Single Mom Paradise

(I'll forward any feedback to the author, please specify the story and author)

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This story is intended for adults only. It contains depictions of forced nudity, spanking, and sexual activity of preteen and young teen children for the purpose of punishment. None of the behaviors in this story should be attempted in real life, as that would be harmful and/or illegal. If you are not of legal age in your community to read or view such material, please leave now.

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Single Mom Paradise
by Kitty

Summary: A struggling 29 year old single mom finally gets her big break after enrolling in a special program to raise boys. An offer beyond her wildest imagination: a dream job located in a tropical paradise - an exclusive island resort that caters to women desires. Not so much to their sons'. An eight year old Jimmy is about to find out he was brought to the exotic island for his mom's, her friends', and complete strangers' amusement: to satisfy their unconventional motherly and sisterly love.

Disclaimer: It feels silly writing it. All characters are fictional, names coincidental, no real children were hurt, the author does not condone, blah, blah, blah. It cannot physically happen in real life, can it? It's a fantasy, inspired by a rather novel (for the Western world) practice of "elimination communication" (EC). Google it. See the potential?

Sorry, (American) English is not the author's native language. Grammar corrections are welcome.

However... respect the author's world. Be honest in your feedback, but don't ask for specific "improvements" or adherence to your subjective "guidelines": making the characters older or younger, introducing specific kinks, etc. Try to see the author's world with the frightened and embarrassed eight year old boy's eyes. Or his delighted mom's. Maybe both. And use it as an inspiration to create your own kinky world.

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1. The Arrival

"Jimmy!" Laura turned to her eight year old son, unable to contain her excitement. "Look! Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?"

"I dunno, mom," Jimmy looked out of the plane's window. The airport scenery was very cool with big planes and sophisticated trucks, but his mom could not possibly appreciate the trick machinery.

"You've never seen the ocean, have you?"

Jimmy didn't understand her excitement. It was just a big lake. His mind wandered somewhere else. He wasn't sure the island they just landed on would ever grow on him. He couldn't explain what was bothering him, but he knew - the moment they boarded the flight, that the things took a turn for the worse. He kept gazing out of the taxying plane window, trying to think what exactly he didn't like about the tropical scenery.

Why his mom decided to move here? They were perfectly fine in their town. Who needed the ocean? Jimmy was quite happy in their old neighborhood. He realized that he even loved going to school, most of his friends couldn't stand. What kind of schools they had here? Was he going to make new friends? Was everything going to be... normal? There was something sinister about this place.

The plane finally arrived at the gate. Everyone stood up crowding the isle, anxious to get off. Jimmy looked around. It was a weird flight: full of moms, like his. Not a single dad. Or any men. Just young women, teenage girls, and little kids: mostly babies and toddlers. All boys, from what he could tell.

The airport seemed even weirder, being unusually "kid-friendly": with countless baby stores and play areas for toddlers. The art on the walls followed the same motherhood theme: paintings and photographs of young mothers with sons. How did he know all of them were boys? Pretty obvious since every kid was either butt-naked or completely nude. Jimmy has never seen such an explicit display of nudity, which strangely focused only on boys. From newborns to fourth-graders. Little wieners entertained him at first, but seeing a dozen of those photos got him worried. Sure, moms love paying professional photographers for cute portraits, but typically even little babies wear something over their diapers photographed for the family album. And hanging those very private pictures at an airpot? Not that he'd ever let anyone photograph him like that anyway - even for his mom's eyes only.

Jimmy kept wondering where those pictures were taken. The beach ones seemed to be shot on this island. It couldn't be true. Even little babies don't roam the beach naked. They wear special "swimming diapers". He knew at least that much from TV commercials. Sure, a two-three year old wouldn't mind being naked on the beach, unaware of modesty. Toddlers enjoy running around without diapers. But a boy his age? Jimmy didn't allow even his mom to see him naked anymore. Been showering all by himself for over a year now.

A different kind of art displayed throughout the airport: marble and bronze sculptures portrayed the same attractive young moms with naked sons. Typical mother's joy: holding the kid in her arms, playing with him at the beach, bathing... Except for a very detailed depiction of the boy parts. One sculpture, or better said a fountain stood out: a boy in front of the potty peeing in it. Jimmy heard of peeing boy statues, though never seen one close. It would have been funny, but with what looked like a very young mother or a teenage sister kneeling next to the boy to hold his willy, the sculpture was rather disturbing: blatantly showing one of the most private acts supposed to be performed behind the closed bathroom door.

"How cute!" one of the teenage girls walking in front of Jimmy laughed.

There was a bunch of them: 13-14 year old girls from the same flight. Jimmy's mom made him stop and wait until all of the giggling girls took pictures of the peeing statue with their phones. A couple gave Jimmy quick measuring glances like they were comparing him to the boy in the sculpture. Even his mom took notice.

"Looks about your age" she smiled, making Jimmy blush.

"Save your phone storage," a pretty flight attendant told the girls, passing them by. "You'll be seeing plenty of that live."

Jimmy wondered what she meant. The bronze figures were life-size, and the boy indeed seemed to be his age, but any eight year old would have died rather than pee in a plastic potty, let alone having someone aim his willy.

An even bigger shock waited for Jimmy around the corner: a young woman changing her son's diaper. Not only the boy was almost Jimmy's age, which he could somewhat accept, having heard of older children in diapers. But that woman, who looked a lot like his mom, didn't seem to care a single bit about her son's privacy. The thing that surprised Jimmy the most was the "official" sign above the changing table - a picture of a parent bent over a diapered baby. Not that being changed in the ladies room was any better at that age - with everyone staring at your bare bottom, but come on... A diaper changing station in the middle of a busy terminal? No wonder the boy looked so embarrassed. Perhaps that woman wanted to teach her son a lesson. Who knows. Jimmy definitely wouldn't want his mom to ever do it to him.

Pulled by her hand, Jimmy left the airport and boarded a futuristic driverless bus. The airline offered free baggage delivery to passenger homes, so no one had to wait by the baggage carousel.

The silent electric bus drove through a couple of tunnels and entered the city. Jimmy was glued to the bus window. The gender and age mix of the people walking the streets seemed identical to his flight's. No boys older than 10 and no girls younger than 12. Also no women over 40. It didn't seem right. An entire city, or maybe even the whole island populated by single moms? Of little sons and teenage daughters?

It felt like being in his mom's dream. Everything, while not explicitly feminine, looked pretty close to the Barbie's world: trees, buildings, stores, and restaurants. Even cars: cute hatchbacks, wagons, and minivans. Something his mom would drive. No pickup trucks or fast sports cars. It was undeniably a girly world. Why his mom brought him here? How he was going to fit in?

The boys he saw on the streets of the "Barbie City" didn't fit in at all. They didn't look normal in their silly clothes: some kind of footed yoga pants worn... Jimmy looked closely at one of the boys seemingly his age... yep, without underwear. Why would anyone put on something embarrassing like that? Was that boy in some kind of ballet class? He saw a ballet once on TV. A very strange dance to say the least. But all men ballet "tights" were black. The ones he saw on local boys were of a different, thicker kind. And they came in many colors. Thankfully not girly: pink or purple. Being tight made them somewhat feminine: showing the boy's butt, and what looked especially funny, his package due to no underwear. It was like wearing no pants at all. Everyone could see your willy and balls.

At least the t-shirts could have been a little longer. Half of the boys had their t-shirts tucked into the strange pants: pulled up to the chest. Those who didn't, looked equally ridiculous: with the t-shirt ending somewhere around the belly button. Who invented such strange fashion? All girls and women had normal clothing. They do wear tights - of a different, thin type, but they have skirts and dresses to cover their butts.

Jimmy couldn't wrap his head around the strange clothing. It was completely the opposite of what a boy older than two should wear in the tropical climate: baggy shorts... with underwear, duh? And a moderately long t-shirt with some cool brand logo. Where they got those t-shirts? At some baby store? Cartoon animals? Soft pastel colors? Typically of the light green, yellow, or baby blue variety.

He'd have died of embarrassment wearing something as babyish. What's next? Diapers? He started to notice them too. On boys his age and even older. Not many, but still. Either under the tight pants - did the boy's mom wanted the whole world to see her son's diaper? Or... he gasped... without any pants. A diaper and the same short t-shirt. On an eight-nine year old! How could those boys allow to be seen like that?

Most boys Jimmy saw on the street, were indeed noticeably embarrassed. What was going on here? The kids definitely didn't choose their clothing. Their moms did. How could they? He'd never allow his mom to dress him like that. But... he made a terrifying discovery... she didn't pack any of his clothes. None! While bringing two big suitcases of hers. She told him they'd buy everything on the island, since he didn't need much of his old clothes, suitable for the cold North-East rather than the tropical climate.

It suddenly started to make sense. Diapering in the middle of a busy terminal. The flight attendant'd remark about the peeing boy sculpture. The babyish attire. Being naked at the beach. He recalled the city skyline in the picture of a naked nine year old building a sand castle. Their bus just passed that very distinctive building. Meaning the picture was indeed taken at one of the island beaches. What kind of mom would make her kid endure something so embarrassing?

Jimmy's would never do it to him. Even if the entire island's population dressed kids in the ridiculous pants and paraded them around the beach naked. He's not going to be subjected to that madness. Though he would have surely appreciated if his mom warned him about a few strange things here.

She didn't tell him anything. Maybe she didn't know? Nah, she knew. Otherwise she would have made a comment about the absolutely ridiculous attire. Strangely none of the women on the bus did. Like they knew too. Only a couple of teenage girls sitting in the front row kept giggling, poking the bus window with their fingers. Both were unbelievably pretty - another thing that seemed rather unusual. All girls and women he's seen since they boarded the plane were attractive. Some blindingly beautiful, some just cute. But every single one was young, happy, good-looking, and... superior.

The two twelve year old girls sitting in the front row had a bit too much of that superiority in their tone. Jimmy couldn't stand their arrogant chatter.

"That one has a cute round butt too."

"Not to mention his package." Both girls laughed.

"Best clothes for little boys, don't you think?"

"Absolutely agree. I can't stand two year olds in baggy adult pants. Come on! Why to hide a diaper, if everyone knows he's wearing it."

"So who do you like more? The ones in tights or the diapered ones?"

"Can't decide. Diapers sure look funny - especially on a nine-ten year old. But those tight pants are something. It's like seeing the little guy butt-naked."

"My thought exactly. They don't hide much. Pulled over the round butt and little willy."

"Imagine if he pees pants like that. The huge wet spot."

"Look! One already did."

"Are you serious? Where? Oh my gosh! Looks like he messed himself too. See the load under his butt? Should have worn a diaper."

"Eeew! But so funny. I mean soaked diapers are funny as hell too - especially on an older boy. But they are not so obvious."

"Is his mom making him walk in those wet and messy pants on purpose?"

"If my little brother did that, I'd have definitely done that: marched him a couple of blocks to teach him a lesson."

"With everyone staring at him," the other girl giggled.

"Staring, making comments, shaming. I'd have changed him in public too. On the nearest bench."

"Would have been so funny. Maybe you'll get your chance. Does he still wet the bed?"

"Once in a while. Mom and I got it under control."

"Hey!" the "little brother" sitting behind the girls tried to protest.

"Like no one knows about your accidents, Matty," his sister said with a grin. "A seven year old boy should know better. Oh, and if you haven't noticed what boys wear here, I can't wait to see you in those tights."

"Or diaper!" added her friend and both giggled, making the boy's face red. "Does your mom diaper him for the night?"

"She used to. I mean I typically did. Made sure he went potty, then wiped, oiled, and diapered him."

"And he let you?"

"Duh? I'm his big sister. I still bath him. Doubt he likes it either. Boys start getting shy around the age of five. Well, nothing he can do about his baths. Too little to shower on his own. It's so much fun bathing and diapering him. Though the nighttime diapers are kind of expensive. So we decided to do something different. Now he sleeps completely naked."

"But he'd pee all over the bed."

"So what? First, he still sleeps on a waterproof toddler mattress. Second, we put diaper cloth under his butt to absorb all his pee."

"What about the blanket?"

"No blankets. We set the thermostat a couple degrees higher to keep him warm."

"Oh my gosh! You make a seven year old boy sleep naked without a blanket?"

"Yep. He also needs to stay on his back and keep his legs spread, so if he springs a fountain, it lands right on the pad between them.. Arms above his head, so he won't, you know, touch himself."

The other girl giggled. "And he stays like that the entire night?"

"We make sure of that. By tying his arms and legs to the bed posts."

"What if he needs to go to the toilet?"

"You wish. Actually, since my room is next to Matty's, I have an alarm set for 1a.m. So I wake up, go to his room, where he happily sleeps in his naked glory, wake him up and stand him in front of his potty. We keep his old plastic potty under his bed."

"Do you hold his pee-pee too?" another girl asked with a giggle.

"Of course I do. Most of his pee would have landed on the floor if I let him aim. It wasn't easy to make a seven year old pee like that. He was shy at first and needed a little persuasion. It took me a month to get him to pee in the potty right in front of me. While holding his willy. So funny watching boys go."

"What kind of persuasion?"

"The red bottom kind!"

They laughed again.

"Can I come for a sleepover? I wanna do it too. Don't you wish they still used the potty chair at that age? Like throughout the day - instead of an adult toilet. For both number one and two. Right in the living room with you supervising."

"Don't all boys here? Regardless of age. I've heard even kids older than Matty still use plastic potties."

"Under adult supervision?"

"Duh? How else? Someone needs to hold their little worms if it's just number one and wipe their dirty bums after the number two."

"Can you imagine that? A nine-year old having his bottom wiped?"

"Standing up or in the diapering position?"

"You mean like on his back with the legs up in the air? Oh my gosh. A nine year old? Too funny."

"The funniest thing I've heard so far... Get this... If one refuses to use the potty. Or for whatever other reason... The kid is made to do his business lying naked in that position."

"Older boys too? They like... lie naked on the back and spring a fountain? Like a baby during his diaper change? So cute when little boys do it. Though I'm curious how to make an older one tinkle."

"You can tickle a boy to pee. You have no idea how ticklish they are."

"Like everywhere? Or there are some special spots?"

"Boys can't stand their balls tickled."

"How do you know? Did you tickle Matty's?"

"You mean to make him pee? No. But he always peed during diaper changes, when he was little. Especially when mom put baby oil or the diaper rash cream on his little package. Have you ever seen a boy's diaper change?"

"A couple of times."

"Wondered why they squirm and kick when someone touches their pee-pee and balls? The same thing during the bath. Impossible to wash the boy's little package without a tickle dance. Which always ends with a pee fountain."

"Even seven year olds do that?"

"They do. Right, Matty? Tell Cassie what happened when I bathed you yesterday."

Jimmy thought how lucky he was without big sisters or cousins. Especially mean ones like that girl.

"He peed in the tab?"

"Right when I was washing his precious marbles," the girl giggled.

"You do it with your bare hands?"

"Of course. The only way to wash a little boy down there."

"So how do you hold him still, if he cannot stand the tickle?"

"There is a trick," the girl lowered her voice to a whisper, but Jimmy could still hear her. "If he's dancing and prancing too much, I put a soapy finger in his bum."

"Seriously?"

"Yep. Push my index finger right in there and wiggle it a little. Instantly makes him behave."

"So funny. Can I come over and bath your little brother?"

"Wanna do it tonight? I'll teach you. Mom! Can Cassie help me bath Matty?"

"Better tomorrow," Matty's mom replied with a smile.

"Mom!" Matty looked at his mom with tears in his eyes.

"What? Any of your sister's friends can help her bath you. One day Cassie is going to have a little boy of her own. She need to learn how to properly bath one."

"I am not little."

"Anyone who wets his bed is."

Matty' sister looked at him with a grin of superiority.

"By the way, all moms wash little kids bottoms like that," she continued. "It helps with constipation, if you know what I mean."

"I thought moms typically use a thermometer for that."

"That too. We have a special one for Matty."

"Get out! Your mom still takes his temperature rectally?"

"How else? Does wonders for little boys who have difficulty going potty. Especially if you lubricate the tip with liquid soap instead of vaseline."

"Does she lay him on her lap with his butt up? Like... for spanking?"

"Yeah, like that. Though I prefer the diapering position: on the back with the legs up in the air."

"Quite a view, huh?"

"Especially watching him poop after the thermometer leaves his little hole."

"You gotta be kidding me. Only babies do that. A seven year old can make it to the toilet."

"How much you know about seven year old boys? Hold the soapy thermometer in his bum long enough... twisting, wiggling... Five minutes like that and you'll be rewarded by the results. Makes him completely lose control of his little hole."

"Aren't you... like... disgusted?"

"He's my little brother. I've watched him pee and poop since he was a baby. You get used to it. Not disgusting at all. Just funny."

"Does he pee as well?"

"While I am holding him on his back? Yeah, you always need to wait until the baby peed. Means he pooped everything out."

"I'm not a baby!"

"Hush! Adults are talking." Matty's sister giggled.

"When making a baby boy poop like that," she intentionally referred to Matty as a "baby" again. "You always need to wait until he's done. But... It doesn't hurt to speed things up. By poking his puckered hole with the tip of the thermometer."

"Doesn't hurt who?" Cassie giggled. "By the way, do you remember when was the last time he went potty?"

"You mean number two? I like the way you think. He did it in the morning. Right mom?"

"I am not sure. Matty, when did you go poo-poos?"

"What?" the boy's face turned crimson.

"When was the last time little Matty made poopies in his potty?" his sister teased the boy.

"Look at him blush." Cassie smirked.

"Since wittle Matty doesn't seem to remember," the girl continued in the same cooing tone. "I am going to start a potty chart. To record when he makes pee-pees and poo-poos. And how: in the potty like a big boy or in his pants."

She turned to her friend.

"I tell you what, Cassie. He seems awfully constipated to me. Maybe that's why he's so fussy. So when you come tomorrow, I'll teach you how to take care of that problem as well."

"Can't wait."

"You really wanna learn that?" Matty's mom asked Cassie with a sigh. "It can get quite messy."

"I'm not afraid of dirty little bottoms."

2. The Snow Queen in a Medical Lab Coat

The bus made a turn and stopped.

"Pediatric Clinic," the computer voice announced.

"Bye, Cassie. I'll call you later. We need to take Matty to the pediatrician."

"Because of his constipation?" Cassie asked with a smirk.

"No. Because little baby boys need to be examined by pediatricians often. To check for diaper rash, how their baby pee-pees develop, and other things."

Enraged Matty jumped towards his sister, but his mom caught him and administered a loud smack on the boy's behind. "Behave, young man!"

Cassie choked trying to stifle laughter.

Jimmy was definitely lucky, that he didn't have such a mean sister. He watched half of the bus getting off. Matty with his mom and sister left first. Then other moms with boys. The ones with teenage girls stayed seated. What was going on?

"Let's go, Jimmy," his mom urged him to stand up by pulling his arm.

"But it's not our stop."

"It is. Would you kindly stand up and get off the bus? We are the last ones. Don't hold other people."

"OK." Jimmy was completely confused. There weren't any houses or apartment building in sight. Just a big hospital plaza. "Central Children's Hospital" the sign read.

"Come on!" Jimmy's mom took his arm and started walking towards a one-story building, following other moms with boys.

"Where are we going, mom?" Jimmy asked cautiously.

"To the pediatrician's office. For your check up."

"What? Why?"

"Don't argue with me, honey. I don't make the rules here. All children need to see a pediatrician upon the arrival."

"But I feel fine."

"I know, sweetie. It's just a routine check-up. The doctor will ask a few questions and we'll be on our way."

Jimmy nodded in agreement. It was getting stranger and stranger, but whatever. They walked in and got in line. Matty was first. His mom was already talking to the smiling girl behind the counter. "Why every woman on this island was so pretty" Jimmy thought.

"She'll see him in no time" the admin girl said to Matty's mom.

"Is she going to inspect him for diaper rash?" his sister inquired with a sly smile.

"Lucy, please!" Matty's mom gave the girl a stern look.

"She'll check everything," the admin girl assured Matty's mom. "Does your son needs his diaper changed? Don't worry about it. The nurse will thoroughly clean him for the doctor. But if you still want to change him, you can do it over there."

She pointed at the big changing table. Jimmy wondered what it was: a high padded changing table, which could easily accommodate a kid his age. And that admin girl. She clearly saw, that Matty was too old for diapers. Yet talked about him, like a two-year old.

"Mom, I don't wanna!" Matty protested loudly.

"What again, Matty?"

"I don't want that doctor!"

"We can't pick doctors, honey. Not right now," Matty's mom was starting to lose her patience.

"I can get you another one," the young admin offered. "How about Dr.Shaw?"

"It's a woman too?"

"Yes. Why? We have an all-female staff. Both nurses and doctors."

"I am so sorry. Never mind." Matty's mom turned to him. "Did you hear that?"

"But she's gonna see me nekkid!" Matty finally lost it and started crying.

"Please go ahead," his mom told the next one in line, yanking Mattie to the side to have a talk with him. "I don't care how old you are! I don't want to hear a peep if the doctor wants to examine you naked. She sees tens of naked little boys daily. We are going to the back of the line because of you. And if you don't quiet down right this minute, I'll take your pants off right here. So everyone will see you naked. And thoroughly spanked. Is that what you want?"

"I can spank him for you," Matty's sister offered with a grin.

"Geez, Lucy! Will you ever stop teasing him today? I've had enough of you too! Can you leave Matty alone?"

"Sorry."

"Take him and seat over there," she motioned towards a row of chairs. "Show him some game on your phone. Or distract him with something else. He's your brother for crissakes. You know why we brought him here."

"But I was preparing him for..."

"Shh! Are you out of your mind? Look around. Those moms would kill me."

"Don't they like... know?" Lucy whispered to her mom.

"Of course they do. But their... " Lucy's mom shook her head in disbelief. "Can you keep your mouth shut till tomorrow? I already regret I told you. Now sit with your brother over there and keep him occupied."

The conversation didn't go unnoticed by Jimmy. If it wasn't going to be a routine checkup for a seven year old Matty, it surely didn't look like one for Jimmy. Lucy and her mom knew something he didn't.

"Mom, what they were talking about?"

"Who?"

"That girl," Jimmy pointed at Lucy. "She was about to say something and her mom stopped her... "

"Sorry, honey. I didn't hear anything."

Jimmy looked his mom in the eyes. He knew she was lying.

"And all doctors here are women!" Jimmy tried to complain.

"Looks like it. Why? Would you stop worrying, sweetie?" Laura hugged her son. "I didn't know doctors scared you so much. I thought you were a big boy. There's nothing to worry about, sweetheart. The doctor is just going to ask a few questions."

It sure didn't look like "a few questions" after they checked in and went to another room. Jimmy has never seen a medical office like that before. The one he went to, had private exam rooms. None here. Just a large hall with a row of oversized changing tables - the same kind he saw in the previous room.

Jimmy counted six tables - occupied by naked toddlers. All boys. Seemed like that age group was the office specialty. The only other big boy in the room was seven year old Matty. It was quite embarrassing to sit and wait your turn among diapered two and three year olds. Even knowing that you were going to be examined differently.

Was he really? The admin girl told Matty's sister that the doctor would check "everything". Meaning his boy parts. Jimmy shook off his fears. No one would ask a big boy like him to remove all of his clothes. He was not going to undress at all. For a "few questions"?

Only babies needed a full exam. Jimmy wasn't one of them: peeing when the diaper comes off and pooping after their temperature taken. Not to mention only little babies had their temperature taken that way. But the question remained: why his mom brought him to this "baby clinic"? Jimmy couldn't help asking "what ifs", picturing himself on one of those changing tables naked, expertly handled by a pretty nurse.

It'd be so embarrassing. Those tables belonged to a daycare, not medical office. Why didn't they have fancy leather-covered folding benches that looked like beds with drawers? Or whatever those things were - at normal exam rooms of normal medical offices. Nothing seemed normal here. No blinds or curtains on the large windows, arranged into one huge glass wall.

To Jimmy's dismay, the exam tables were set right by that glass wall - for everyone outside to see how the doctors examined their little patients. The "what if" didn't look good at all. The sidewalk behind the glass was quite busy: young moms pushing strollers, tourists in expensive beach clothes, carrying shopping bags from the nearby mall, countless bystanders... All women, as the entire population of this strange island didn't seem to have a male over 10 years old.

Worst of all, a group of teenage girls stopped outside, giggling and pointing fingers at the kids on the changing tables. No doubt enjoying the view. Jimmy hoped they'd leave by the time his turn comes. As if Lucy who came here with her mom and brother, wasn't enough. Matty's turn was right after Jimmy's now, since he went to the back of the line. It meant, that Lucy would see everyone's checkup, including Jimmy's. Thankfully he wasn't going to take off any of his clothes with her watching. Nor the seven year old Lucy's brother, no matter how much she wanted the doctor to examine Matty naked like a toddler.

No doubt she'd enjoy seeing Jimmy like that too. The thermometer sticking out of his butt... he quivered at the thought of that thing invading his body. Especially lying on the back in the humiliating "diapering position", the nurses favored for taking little kids temperature. Jimmy would die if they do it to him... with Lucy watching. Not to mention the giggling teenage girls outside. Other kids' moms. The doctors and nurses - all attractive young women.

Eight years of age, Jimmy wasn't ready for such concentration of female beauty. It confused and frightened him: being surrounded by women, he couldn't takes his eyes off. The "baby clinic" with its lack of privacy was the worst place to be exposed to attractive girls and women. Why it didn't have private exam rooms? And whose idea was to put the changing tables right by the windows? To entertain complete strangers outside? Seemed like privacy didn't apply to kids his age on this island.

Whatever... it just didn't look like a medical office. More like some kind of daycare. But... the sudden realization made him shiver... why would anyone need such large changing tables there? For children his age?

Jimmy gasped, terrified by his discovery. Such daycares did exist on this island. All of the puzzle pieces: scenes he absorbed during the 20-minute bus ride, finally started to click together: boys his age in strange infantile pants and diapers, Lucy's fixation on the potty training. She was very certain her seven year old brother would be using a plastic potty instead of an adult toilet. What about eight year olds? Would Jimmy be subjected to the same humiliation? Why boys his age were treated here like toddlers?

It wasn't just Lucy, who didn't bother to differentiate seven year old boys from diaper-wearing toddlers. Matty's mom treated him like a toddler as well. Together with the rest of the moms, living on the island - if they made their sons wear diapers and toddler clothes.

Jimmy was also certain, that the curt pediatric nurses in their early 20s would most certainly view him as a toddler - judging by their condescending smiles holding kicking and screaming toddlers with thermometers in their butts. And the demeaning comments after the thermometer was withdrawn, resulting in convulsive pooping. Slightly older doctors acted a bit more professional, but couldn't completely hide their condescending tone.

And wasn't it strange, how absolutely every kid pooped after his temperature taken? Were the nurses making them to? Like Lucy, who bragged to her friend about wiggling a soapy thermometer in her brother's butt. The nurses seemed to do exactly the same, causing their little patients noticeable discomfort. Duh? Was that thing really a thermometer? Jimmy's never seen that kind before: a thin stick with a large ball, that looked more like a lollipop, than any thermometer known to him. At least no one was going to stick that cruel device in his butt. He was too old for rectal thermometers.

Jimmy wasn't so sure now amid the ominous surroundings of this strange island. If everyone was a toddler to the pediatricians and their nurses, he was going to be subjected to the same humiliation. He blushed, imagining one of the young doctors touching his boy parts with a cute smile: examining him for diaper rash. Not gonna happen! He didn't wear a diaper, period! Nothing to see down there. He was too big to be examined naked like a baby. He couldn't recall ever being made to remove his underwear in the doctor's office. Let alone the dreaded rectal thermometer.

Besides, he was 100% healthy. Hoping to get through the checkup ordeal quickly: ideally w/o removing any clothes. What for? His mom told him the doctor was just going to ask her a few questions. If it was anything more, than that, his mom wouldn't let the pediatrician treat him like a baby. She'd protect him from those mean doctors and nurses.

Little did he know, his mom was already wet from watching the ministrations the nurses subjected their naked patients to - anxiously awaiting her son's turn to lie on the changing table. It had been more than a year since she saw Jimmy naked, as he started showering all by himself, locking the bathroom door. Laura had numerous talks with Jimmy, asking him to at least leave the door unlocked, so she could help him if he slips and falls. But Jimmy refused to let her in.

Everything was about to change. Not only she'd admire her son naked again. She couldn't wait to see Jimmy's reaction to the rectal thermometer invading his bottom. And that cute freckled girl... Lucy would surely make a few comments about it. Enough to make him blush. "Oh my," she thought, feeling sorry for Jimmy. But what an entertainment he was going to provide for her.

It seemed like a dream. The wet kind. The island was just... perfect. No privacy for cute little boys - treated the same regardless of age. Every girl and woman could admire boys naked: at the beach, during public diaper changes, in a bathtub, on the potty chair... And especially at pediatrician offices, that lacked private exam rooms.

The glass wall... What a wonderful idea to offer a breathtaking ocean view for the moms inside, while letting anyone walking by enjoy the beauty of naked little boys, especially during their cute infantile acts of uncontrollable peeing and pooping. Nothing's more adorable, than a baby boy's innocent pee fountain.

Laura regained control and moved her hand away from the crotch. She desperately needed to relieve the sweet tingling between her tightly pressed legs. Hopefully the wet spot wasn't too noticeable.

She looked around. Her Jimmy was the oldest boy in the room. Most kids, that came on the same plane were two and three years old. If only she discovered this program when Jimmy was that age. She missed six years in paradise. Not to mention the economic benefits. She hated her old job. It paid close to nothing. She had to deal with a degrading boss. The traffic was a nightmare.

It seemed like a distant memory now. She's finally made it. Her dream job waited for her at the local Orlov Robotics office. Creative marketing. There was no catch. Everything seemed perfect.

Especially the complete absence of men. Only little boys like her Jimmy. Laura never liked men. They confused her at best. It took her some time to find her sexuality. She tried men and felt nothing at all. Except being used. Sex with girls was much better - at least they could bring her to orgasm. Which paled in comparison to her explosive feelings for her son. He was her true love. Though the girls were still an option. She could only imagine a family with a girl. Raising Jimmy and maybe another little boy. The conception? A total no-brainer nowadays. Plenty of sperm donors.

She tried her best to build a "normal" family. But Jimmy's "father", if he was ever worthy to be called such, ran away as soon as he heard of her pregnancy. She insisted on keeping the baby. Not easy when you are halfway through college. But what a bundle of joy her little Jimmy was. The ideal man - one that required diapering, bathing, and sitting on the potty. One she could undress and admire naked any time she wanted. The only male body she loved - of a little boy. Without disgusting body hair and frightening dick.

Sooner or later little Jimmy would grow up into such hairy monster. Nothing she could do about it, other than enjoy his childhood. And dream that perhaps one day the science would find some drug to stop little boys from growing into disgusting men. If only Jimmy could stay a toddler forever.

There was no way to shrink his body to turn him into a two-year old, but the experimental ETB (Extended Toddlerhood for Boys) program offered Laura a second chance to enjoy his infancy. An unbelievable opportunity to bond with her son.

Laura recalled her conversation with the program counselor. ETB was sponsored by the Worldwide National Feminist Party, the only one left after the world entered the Era of Global Stability and Prosperity - the result of the historic election night 20 years ago. The program was established by none other than the WNFP Chairman and the all-female World Parliament leader Arianna Orlov.

Orlov made her fortune in robotics: particularly the autonomous mining machines deployed to Mars and Venus. Her generosity knew no bounds. She gave an entire island to single moms.

Granted Laura could only stay on the Arianna island for two and a half years - until Jimmy reached 11, they were set for life. As long, as Laura adhered to the program. She was guaranteed employment at one of Orlov's companies, enjoying the same creative work and stratospheric salary. Jimmy was to go to a good college and also end up at Orlov Robotics or another Arianna's company. He had no chance at a corporate career. Arianna didn't allow males to grow professionally. In exchange for never having to worry about the money.

ETB was the most important, early childhood stage of the life-long OM (Obedient Male) program. It asserted female superiority at the subconscious level - through powerful childhood memories. It was the foundation to raise the new generation of men - groomed to serve female bosses and cater to their desires.

Arianna Orlov has single-handedly changed the world. Her robots completely replaced men. The "strong" sex was no longer needed: to pump oil, lay bricks, or fight in wars. There were no more wars in the world led by Arianna's Worldwide Parliament. The wise and cautious keepers of the planet - women were finally in charge. They eradicated poverty and violence, outlawed devastating stock market gambling, and even banned auto racing. Arianna eliminated anything remotely risky, a prudent mom would not approve.

She was a very vocal lesbian, but loved men too. Below the certain age. Arianna called children the world's cutest puppies and kittens. She unconditionally loved both girls and boys. And while it seemed to many that she did not care what happens to the latter after they reach puberty, Ariana really did: in a different way. Grown men were a "decorative breed" to her, since no one needed their strong arms anymore. Or their dicks.

Most importantly the planet didn't need their stupid decisions. A male brain is not wired to make the world a better place. And so she made it her lifetime mission to properly wire it. Around just one thing: shame. Young boys were raised to live in shame and worship female perfection.

Shame saves lives. By preventing mischievous boys from doing dangerous things. Arianna wanted grown men to retain the toddler mindset: timid, sorry for their mischief, and afraid of the ensuing punishment. With only one desire: to be a good boy and please the mommy. Along with other caregivers who could administer humiliating punishments. She wanted men to delegate all their decisions to women and rely on them for the most basic needs - like every little boy depends on his mommy to change his diapers and sit him on the potty.

That was the shame she wanted all boys to remember upon growing up: the embarrassing memories of wetting and messing their pants in front of beautiful teenage girls and young women. Only a business visionary like Arianna Orlov could come up with such ingenious way to establish unquestionable female superiority - reminding the men of their childhood struggle with potty training. Every time they felt the urge to visit a bathroom.

Cultivating that behavior required a specific environment. A tropical island was perfect to build a secluded community with the right lifestyle and demographics.

Prepubescent boys could not have any male role models like fathers or big brothers. Males over 11 years of age were forbidden within a 100 nautical miles off the island's coast. In the ideal case a male child born on the island was expected to see a grown man for the first time at the safe age of 11, having his mind filled with the proper memories and behavior patterns. The boys brought to the island by their moms, had the image of male strength and authority gradually erased from their minds by living among women.

It was just as important to never let a young boy observe female weakness. For that reason no girl under 12 was allowed on the island either. Only little boys pee their pants. The term "little" was not applicable to a girl. Boys were the only pathetic "littles" on the island. While even 12 year old girls acted as adults in charge. Simply by being girls.

Any "adult in charge" needed to be physically stronger then her charges to boss them around. Two years provided a safe gap. Taught the proper technique, e.g. to hold down a squirming and kicking child during his diaper change, a 12 year old girl could easily overpower a 10 year old boy.

The upper age limit for the island's residents was 45. No grannies. It was important to surround boys by youth and beauty. Arianna wanted every boy on the island to constantly experience "cuteness overload". The looks mattered a lot - to induce a prepubescent boy's crush on teenage girls and young women, ensuring his maximum humiliation upon wetting his pants, being seen naked during his bath or diaper change, and other embarrassing situations.

The program recruiters scouted the world, searching for girls and women with the right looks, carefully selected to populate the island. It was the innocent childish standard of beauty, focused entirely on the face. Little boys don't pay attention to anything else like "ass" or "boobs". Nor they're scared by BDSM theatrics: leather-clad gothic dominatrixes and exaggerated latex nurses. Arianna wanted all grown up women on the island, even the ones pushing 40 to have the "sweet 16" appearance. A petite or even moderately chubby build with a cute youthful round or slightly triangular face, big eyes, upturned nose, and full lips. Features like freckles and cheek dimples were a bonus.

Beauty doesn't work without a happy smile. Arianna went out of her way to keep the female population of her island happy. It was a very specific kind of happiness. She populated the island with girls and women who enjoyed seeing little boys naked and took an even bigger delight in humiliating them.

Laura glanced at her watch, impatient to see Jimmy on the changing table. It took doctors about 15 minutes on average to examine a patient from head to toe - half of that time spent on cleaning the mess every toddler made after his temperature was taken. Rectally, how else? The thermometers looked a bit unusual. Every mom knows what a pediatric rectal thermometer is supposed to look like. The ones used by nurses at this office seemed to be designed for a very specific purpose. She smirked, secretly hoping the "special thermometer" would make her eight year old son poop too.

Boy, did she miss innocent things boys do at the age of two: running around naked, peeing in a bathtub, pooping after their rectal temperature taken. Those "accidents" were the extent of trouble Jimmy could cause her as a toddler, when he fully depended on her. Compared to the eight year old's mischief she had to deal with lately.

Everything was perfect when Jimmy was two. Even the diaper changes. Like most moms, Laura didn't have a tiny bit of repulsion wiping off her baby's pee and poop. Clean or dirty, who'd be disgusted by a sweet baby boy's bottom? Not to mention, that every diaper change provided a perfect opportunity to play with the boy's delicate rosebud: first by thoroughly cleaning it with a wet wipe, and a lot more when applying baby oil or diaper rash ointment. Right on the puckered hole, sensitive to the slightest touch. Tickling and poking it with one finger, probing a little deeper, and finally sliding it all the way in. Instantly rewarded by a cute baby erection.

She quickly learned what to expect next: a spurt of pee. Why all her friends complained about their sons peeing during diaper changes? It is so cute, when toddlers spring innocent fountains out of their tiny willies. So funny to watch a boy do it: lying naked on his back in front of you. Makes every mother's panties wet. Oh, the sweet memories...

Jimmy peed during every bath too, when he was younger. Laura learned the right tricks to make him tinkle. Gently lathering up the little sack between his legs: every boy's most ticklish spot. It was so much fun watching his goose-bump covered naked body squirm and shudder, until the tickle made him pee. Another sure way to cause him to lose his bladder control was pulling back his foreskin and rubbing the exposed pee slit. That stimulation was a lot more intense than tickling his balls, producing results much quicker. He peed so hard responding to her touch.

Laura has experimented with all kinds of stimulation during Jimmy's baths and diaper changes. She thoroughly masturbated him on several occasions. Though his climax wasn't as intense, as she hoped. Compared to Jimmy's reaction to tickle. If anything, masturbating a little boy proved to be a useful technique to prepare him for prolonged scrotal and anal tickling, since the climax made the boy's skin extremely sensitive. She learned her son's most vulnerable spots, and used every opportunity to mercilessly tickle his boy bits and the anal passage: baths, diaper changes, wiping him after the potty...

Was her pleasure sadistic? Making him shudder and lose control of his bladder and sometimes bowels? She never caused her sweet little boy any pain. She was fine with smacking her son's bare butt once in a while, but she never spanked him for real, like many of her friends, who definitely got off by reddening their sons bare bottoms. A single slap - all it takes to get a little boy to behave. Why to make such a ritual out of it?

Laura hated the spanking drama. She preferred the elaborate subtlety of motherhood. The blurred line between care and punishment. Whenever she felt like tickling Jimmy's balls to cause convulsive peeing, she lovingly cooed to her quivering son, that he needed a thorough application of the moisturizing cream to avoid diaper rash. When she was lathering up his ultra-sensitive pee slit, it was to properly wash it. And when she felt compelled to stick something in his bum: a thermometer, enema, or just her finger, it was always to relieve his constipation. Little boys get constipated quite often, whether they complain about it to their mommies or not.

She knew, that her manipulations weren't pleasant for Jimmy, and it turned her on: his discomfort and resistance - trying to break free from her firm hold, squirming to escape her tickling fingers, and ultimately giving in to her expert tickling skills and rewarding her with convulsive pee spurts. That kind of power over men: a complete control of their most private body functions... It made her crotch tingle.

Laura felt sorry for her son, but couldn't stop. The pity turned her on too: a twisted combination of compassion and curiosity how much tender torture a toddler can take. Two conflicting feelings feeding each other - that was her unique brand of motherly love.

She had no remorse for doing "inappropriate" things to Jimmy. It was her son, and she made decisions what's good for him. Any mother has the right to have a little fun with her son. Just watching him in such helpless state: lying naked on his back in the diapering position: forced to expose the most private spots between his legs... fully accessible to her fingers... Gosh, it was such an incredible turn-on.

Potty training proved to be an even bigger fun. Following her pediatrician recommendations, she kept Jimmy butt-naked most of the day - to quickly catch the right moment. Thankfully boys always show it. They strain their willies, when they are about to pee. So cute.

Standing him in front of the potty and holding his tiny pickle, cooing, patiently asking him to do tinkles. And when he did - squirted an innocent stream out of the throbbing spigot she held in her fingers... she often wet her panties a little too.

That era was long gone. First went Jimmy's infant reflexes: his sensitivity and reaction to tickle. Then he learned to hold his willy aiming it in the potty. It wasn't long until Jimmy stopped using the children's potty at all, growing tall enough to climb on an adult toilet. She didn't teach him those things. Laura wanted her son to depend on her. She wanted Jimmy to call her to wipe his butt after number two. Which she always did with wet baby wipes. Jimmy hated the word "baby". Like any boy, he wanted to grow up as quickly, as possible. She should have removed the toilet tissue from all house bathrooms, so he'd never learn to wipe his bottom. But he inevitably did. Her only remaining opportunity to admire her son's bare bum was the daily bath. And finally, a year ago, she lost that too. How could an eight year old be so shy? Many of her friends still bathed their sons: even older than Jimmy.

Her little bunny was growing up and Laura didn't like it at all. She did nothing wrong - for him to reject her like that. If that growing distance between them wasn't bad enough, the school trouble started. Laura was called into the Principal's office almost every week. She didn't know what to do, having refused to put Jimmy over her knees, as all of her friends suggested.

That's when she stumbled upon the ETB program website. She's never been into national-feminism, but the reference to puppies and kittens immediately made her wet. It was right up her alley. Not to mention the money side. No doubt many moms "corrected" their sons for the lifetime financial stability offered by the program. Others considered it their duty because of ideology. Laura just wanted to enjoy Jimmy's second toddlerhood.

"Harper!" one of the nurses called.

"Come on, honey. It's our turn." Laura got up and took Jimmy's hand.

The boy heavily sighed and followed her to the cute blond nurse. Why all medical staff here was so young and pretty? He always felt more comfortable around older women.

"James Kyle Harper. Date of birth..." the nurse confirmed Jimmy's bio with his mom and stopped tapping her small tablet, "Hi. I am Molly. Dr. Larsen will be with us shortly. Hop up on the table, sweetie."

She picked Jimmy up and before he could say anything, sat him on the soft changing table surface. The boy gave his mom a worried look. Why the nurse put him here, if the doctor was only going to ask a couple of questions? Jimmy stared at the pretty nurse, trying to guess her next step. Only to hear the dreaded words.

"Could you undress your son please?" she casually asked his mom.

"Mom, you said..."

"Shh, baby. Don't make a scene. It'll be over in no time. Raise your arms."

Jimmy didn't have much of a choice and reluctantly allowed his mom to pull up and remove his t-shirt.

"Pants too," the nurse said briefly glancing at Jimmy, "And the diaper... I mean his underwear. The doctor needs him completely undressed."

Was she serious? It wasn't a "what if" scenario anymore. Jimmy's worst fear just came true. He looked at Lucy, watching her mom quickly undress a seven year old Matty at the next changing table. Matty's face was red with embarrassment, though he seemed to have accepted his fate.

"Do you need help with him, mom?" Lucy asked, grinning from ear to ear.

"No honey. Thanks. I'll tell you if I do."

"Boys this little are always examined naked?" Lucy turned to her brother's nurse for confirmation.

"Of course," the nurse nodded, "The doctor is going to examine him from head to toe."

"Including... the boy parts?" Lucy giggled, staring at Jimmy with her big blue eyes.

"That too," the nurse said.

Jimmy couldn't stand Lucy's smug face.

"Honey, we need to get these off," Laura said softly, moving her son's hand, so she could unbutton and unzip his jeans. By now she's already removed his shoes and socks.

Jimmy just froze. It was surreal: being undressed by his mother like a two year old. Could she save some of his dignity by allowing him do it? Not really. He was going to lie on this table naked no matter what.

"Lay him on his back. It'll make things easier," the nurse suggested.

"Lie down, honey," Laura gently pushed Jimmy on his back. "Here we go. Now let's get your pants off."

Laura raised Jimmy's legs, taking a mental note, how good it felt to undress her son in this position, like a baby.

"Mom, I don't wanna... " the boy protested.

Laura just smiled and yanked the already pulled down jeans off Jimmy's legs.

"Now these," she slid her fingers inside the waist of his white briefs.

"Tighty-whities!" Lucy giggled.

"Mom, please! I am not... like those babies" Jimmy begged, clutching his underwear with both hands.

"Jimmy!" Laura raised her voice. "You heard the nurse. Please move your hands and let me pull your briefs down."

"But I don't wanna!" Jimmy broke out with tears, "I am not a baby!"

"Sure about that?" Lucy just couldn't stay quiet.

Lucy's mom gave the girl an angry look. By now she already undressed her son, who lied on his table naked covering his crotch.

"Naughty little boy!" Lucy slapped Matty's hands away. "No playing with yourself!"

The girl was immensely enjoying her seven year old brother's embarrassment. Jimmy's too. The best day of her life: to see both of them naked.

"So shy," Jimmy's nurse chuckled, watching Laura's struggle to lower her son's underwear, "I am sorry, sweetie, but you can't have your undies on. How am I going to take your temperature?"

That was too much. Jimmy's checkup was turning out to be exactly the same, as the two year old's, who lied on this table before him.

"I am not a baby... not a baby..." he kept chanting hysterically, tears streaming down his cheeks. "I wanna go home!"

"Look!" the nurse said suddenly, holding a small toy truck. "Wanna play with it?"

She handed the toy to Jimmy waiting for him to take it. That split second was enough for Laura to yank his briefs down.

"Thanks!" she said, effortlessly pulling the white briefs off her son's legs.

Jimmy's eyes widened. It was over. It happened. What he was going to do? He froze watching his mom slide the last piece of clothing off his ankles. It couldn't be happening. It was so, so, so embarrassing. He wanted to disappear in the thin air.

"What a cute little boy you have!" 12 year old Lucy told Laura with a smug face, like she was one of the moms.

If that wasn't bad enough, Jimmy clearly heard a faint laughter outside the window. He turned his head to meet the gaze of four girls Lucy's age - focused on his groin.

Laura smirked, seeing her son quickly covering himself.

"Please don't, honey," she told Jimmy with a soft smile, taking his hands away, "Boys shouldn't touch their pee-pees."

"Like anyone here has seen anything new between you legs," Jimmy's nurse said with a condescending smile. "Why don't you play with your truck instead of your little pickle."

Lucy's giggle sent new hot waves over Jimmy's already red face.

"Mom, how come you didn't buy such thermometer for Matty?" she asked, turning to her brother's nurse again. "Are they like the special hospital kind? I've never seen one of those in a drugstore."

"You mean on the mainland? They are relatively new," the nurse explained. "Very convenient. No need to hold the thermometer. Even our youngest patients are able to retain them."

"No kidding!" Lucy giggled. "With such large bulb... Perfect for little boys' bums."

Horrified Jimmy watched his nurse lubricating the lollipop-looking thermometer. He knew where it was going, but her preparations seemed surreal.

"Legs up!" the nurse said enthusiastically, bringing Jimmy back to reality.

"No, no, no!" he protested, after she tried to lift his legs. "I'm not a..."

"Baby?" the nurse looked at him with a condescending smile. "Honey, we take all children's temperature rectally."

"Don't make a scene," Laura told her son. "The nurse knows what she's doing."

"But I am not a baby!" Jimmy cried in anguish, having lost his mom's support.

It was so unfair! Bawling like a two year old, Jimmy struck the soft table padding with his fists and kicked his legs, preventing the nurse from grabbing them again. Laura stood silent watching her son's tantrum with a faint smile. It was rather funny seeing a naked third-grader kicking and squirming like a restless toddler during a diaper change.

"Would you mind holding his legs?" the nurse asked, showing signs of frustration.

"I am so sorry. He's usually not like that."

Laura took both of her son's ankles and raised his legs as far, as she could, pressing Jimmy's knees to his chest. She's been longing to do it for so many years.

"It's me, honey," she said with a warm smile. "I know you're not a baby. Could you be a big boy for me and calm down?"

Jimmy's crying subsided to sobs. It was his mommy after all: her smell, touch, and of course words. Which made him feel little instead of big. Lying naked on a changing table like a two year old. With his own mom holding him in the most humiliating position with his boy parts and even the poop hole on full display.

In any case, fighting the battle he could not win only made the situation more embarrassing. Another school age boy: Matty just accepted his fate, preserving the last bits of his dignity. Jimmy's best course of action was to do the same: pretend he's not in this horrible room. He closed his eyes. It kind of worked. Until Lucy decided to remind him where he was.

"Nice view!" she chuckled.

Jimmy opened his eyes. No, Lucy didn't mean the ocean, She was staring right between his raised legs. He couldn't imagine a worse nightmare. But he knew, things were about to get much worse.

"Thanks," the nurse gave his mom a nod. "Can you spread his legs a little? Perfect. I'm going to put some of this cream on his bum, so the thermometer goes in easier."

Jimmy flinched at the cold touch of the stranger's finger right to his sensitive hole. Having deftly massaged her cream into the boy' puckered anus, the nurse squeezed a drop of the white substance on her index finger, and without wasting a second, inserted it in Jimmy's butt.

"Let's loosen you up a little," she told the mortified boy, wiggling and twisting her finger inside him. "By the way... when was the last time he had the bowel movement? Feels a bit constipated to me."

"You think so?" Laura struggled to keep the concerned face, that funny her son looked right now, embarrassed by the nurse's question.

"I don't think," the nurse said matter of factly. "I know. Well... the thermometer might help if you know what I am mean."

Lucy giggled.

The nurse withdrew her finger, applied more cream on it and put it in Jimmy's bum, followed by the usual wiggling and twirling. The unpleasant feeling made Jimmy quiver. It tingled and hurt. The nurse didn't care at all. She repeated painful insertions several times, finally declaring Jimmy "all ready" with a satisfied smile.

He froze in horror, feeling something cold press against his hole.

"Tickle-tickle-tickle!" the nurse smiled, stroking his sensitive balls.

Jimmy shuddered and the next moment a large foreign object entered his butt.

"Here we go. It wasn't that bad... was it?"

The thermometer didn't hurt Jimmy too bad, if that's what she meant. But it couldn't have been any worse. He was reduced to a helpless toddler. Any pediatric nurse could do whatever she pleased to him. While his own mom not only kept quiet, but... he couldn't believe it... was helping his tormenter. If that wasn't bad enough, he realized he's about to prove to everyone in the room what a toddler he was. By having an accident after the nurse takes the thermometer out. It couldn't be happening to him. Was he really no different than the two year old who lied on this table before him?

The tingling in his butt turned into painful burning, causing an unbearable urge to poop. If it wasn't for the thermometer plugging him, Jimmy would have already had the mortifying accident in front of everybody.

"Let me take over," the nurse crossed Jimmy's ankles, holding them with one hand. The other one put a thickly folded diaper cloth under his butt. "Just in case."

Jimmy's cheeks burned with shame. How did she know? The boy groaned, feeling the thermometer move inside him. Couldn't she leave the damn thing alone?

"It's definitely going to help with his little problem," the nurse said, wiggling the thermometer. "I can see it already."

"Is he pushing the thermometer out?"

"You have no idea," the nurse wiggled the plastic stick again, intensifying Jimmy's urge to expel everything in his bum.

"How is my little bunny doing?" Laura looked at her son affectionately, caressing his bare butt.

It's been ages since she felt the tender skin of his round bottom. And the plastic thermometer sticking of her baby boy's little hole... Good thing she was wearing a dress - to hide her wet panties.

The nurse finally let the thermometer be. Laura was mesmerized by the sight. Unable to resist the temptation, she "adjusted" the plastic stick, pointing its display up. Looked like it needed other adjustments. Laura pushed the thermometer in, turned it left and right... She wanted to see Jimmy's reaction.

Exactly what she expected. The thermometer was going to produce predictable results. The naked boy lying in front of her was no longer a third-grade brat she straggled with for the past year. It was her little Jimmy again. She had complete control over his most private body functions. She would no longer be deprived of her mother's fun. She loved it so much when Jimmy was little - to use a thermometer, along with a few other objects to make him poop. Lying exactly like this: in the diapering position.

"What's wrong baby?" she asked sweetly, twisting a thermometer in Jimmy's butt. "Do you wanna go potty?"

Making her son uncomfortable - to lovingly coo soothing words to him was her favorite game.

"I know, pumpkin. Kids don't like their temperature taken. Just hold on for a little longer, baby."

Jimmy was visibly upset. Forget the mean nurse. His mom started to address him as a toddler.

"Do you wanna go number two, sweetie? No?" Laura turned to the nurse. "He's not gonna poop right away, is he? After you take this thermometer out."

"He might." the nurse gave Laura a sly look. "Most kids do. Don't worry, It won't be a problem at all. Plenty of baby wipes to clean him with."

Jimmy let out a sigh of relief, after he heard his mom's phone ring. At least she'd stop wiggling the thermometer in his butt.

"Hi Maggie... The flight was great. And the island... So beautiful... Hey, can I call you back? Say in 20 minutes... I am at the pediatricians office now... No, nothing happened. Just a well-baby checkup... Yeah, I am talking about Jimmy... He'll always be my baby..."

Good thing she didn't reveal more details about the "well-baby checkup" to their former neighbor.

"So funny! Why their thermometers shake like this?"

Jimmy blushed realizing he became the object of Lucy's attention again.

"Wiggle it for me, baby!" the girl asked him. "Yeah, the thermometer in your bum. Are you trying to push it out? You know what's gonna happen after that, don't you?"

Lucy moved closer to Jimmy's table. His mom didn't mind, busy with checking her email, or whatever else she did with her phone. Lucy picked a moment, when Jimmy's nurse looked away and quickly bounced his thermometer.

"Aah!" the boy gasped, kicking his legs.

"What's wrong?" Jimmy's nurse gave him a surprised look.

"Don't do it again! OK?" Matty's nurse told Lucy with laughter.

She must have seen the whole thing. Lucy seemed to become friends with her brother's nurse, casually chatting with her about the two naked boys.

"How cute!" Lucy giggled, pointing at Jimmy's crotch. "Do thermometers cause it? Matty always has a stiffie when I take his temperature."

"Absolutely normal reaction" her brother's nurse explained.

"Because he's gonna pee? The thermometer makes boys go number one as well? Matty springs a fountain every single time. At least when I take his temperature. Laying him on the back, like you did. Or it has nothing to do with the thermometer? Do little boys always pee after pooping?"

"Wouldn't you want them to?"

"To pee in the diaper they've just messed? Sure. Keeps the new one dry longer. The diapers are so expensive."

"Exactly."

"Do you think both of them are going to make a mess after their temp taken?"

"Looks like it."

The conversation went for another few minutes. Jimmy felt his face change several shades of red, forced to listen to Lucy's blabber: comparing his boy parts with her brother's and asking the nurse countless questions. "Why boys' strain their pee-pees, when they are about to tinkle?" "Why Matty's little balls jump, when you adjusts the thermometer in his bum?" "Are there more tricks to make a boy pee or poop?" And other things 12 year old girls are curious about.

"Hi!" a tall blond woman in mid twenties approached Jimmy's table. "Angela Larsen, a resident pediatrician and developmental behavior specialist."

"Hello, Dr.Larsen," Jimmy's mom shook the doctor's hand. "I am Laura Harper, and this is my son Jimmy."

"How are doing, little Jimmy?" Dr.Larsen asked the shy boy with a faint Scandinavian accent.

The young doctor's face blinded Jimmy with its beauty. Not that it mattered now, since everyone could see him naked, he'd have much preferred the attractive doctor to meet him in a different situation.

"How long he's been holding it, Molly?" the doctor asked, casually pushing Jimmy's thermometer in.

Jimmy groaned. He desperately needed to poop.

"Three minutes," the nurse told the doctor.

"Let's keep it for another three," the doctor decided, wiggling the thermometer one last time. "Has your son been constipated lately?"

She took out her tablet and proceeded to ask Jimmy's mom all sorts of embarrassing questions about gas, colics, and the potty habits - suitable for a one year old rather than a third-grader. His old doctor never asked anything like that. Diaper rash? Seriously?

"Does his foreskin fully retract? I am going to check in a moment, but have you noticed anything unusual? How he typically pees? One long stream or several bursts?"

Then went even more embarrassing questions about the stool.

"How long it usually takes him to do his potty business? Does he strain too much sitting on the potty? Does he cry pushing the stool out?"

Jimmy couldn't bear listening to the pretty doctor, discussing him like a one year old baby, but the worst was yet to come.

"So how is your son's potty training going?" she asked casually. "How many times he wets his pants during the day? Or he only wets at night?"

"He..." Laura struggled to keep the straight face.

"He has number two accidents as well?"

Why she kept assuming those things? Did she want to embarrass him? She's certainly succeeded. As if lying naked with a thermometer in his butt wasn't embarrassing enough.

"What's your favorite diaper brand?"

That was too much. But worst of all his mom started to play along, recalling Jimmy's struggle with potty training at the age of three.

"Do you typically administer enemas when he's constipated?"

The constipation topic prompted the nurse to resume twirling and wiggling the thermometer in Jimmy's butt. The boy trembled and squirmed, made to endure the excruciating urge to void his bowels, followed by the sharp tingling at the tip of his willy that made him want to pee.

The nurse undoubtedly loved torturing boys like him. While his mom just watched with a smile. She'd never think a pediatric nurse can do something wrong. The cruel doctors didn't care either. When was it going to stop? He must have held the damn thermometer in his bum for those additional three minutes already. Why everyone wanted to wiggle it? Who hasn't touched it already? Even Lucy did.

The young doctor put her tablet away and looked at Jimmy with a smirk. She definitely knew what was happening to him.

"Is he pushing the thermometer out, Molly? Good thing you put this diaper cloth under his bottom," she turned to Laura again. "So when was the last time your son had bowel movement?"

"I don't know." Jimmy's mom shrugged her shoulders. "He doesn't tell me."

"What do you mean? You let him use the adult's bathroom? Unsupervised?"

"Yes."

"But he calls you to wipe his butt?"

"No."

"I wouldn't trust an eight year old with that. Don't tell me you never inspected his bottom after doing number two."

"He wouldn't let me."

"That's a different issue: following the rules you set for him. But as far, as the hygiene, we have different standards here. An eight year old needs to use a potty chair. Under the adult's supervision."

Jimmy's jaw dropped. The doctor finally acknowledged his age, which was good, but she also put a "potty chair" in the same sentence. Was she serious?

"And you need to keep track of your son's potty business." Dr.Larsen continued. "Both number one and number two. When, where, and how he did it: in the potty, in his pants or diaper, during the bath or diaper change, etc.

Jimmy's mom nodded in agreement, making his heart sink.

"Glad I am not the only one thinking about this." Laura said. "Boys make such a mess in the bathroom."

"Exactly. Wet toilet seats, puddles on the floor, forgetting to flush. An adult bathroom should be off-limits for him."

The doctor glanced at her watch. "A couple more minutes. Let me check a few things while he's lying like this on his back."

She reached between Jimmy's legs taking a hold of his willy with her cold fingers. To make matters worse Lucy came closer to watch what the doctor was doing to his pee-pee.

"Shh! No fussing!" the doctor gave Jimmy a stern look. "Hold still, little one. It doesn't hurt... Here we go," she turned to Jimmy's mom. "The foreskin is very tight, but fully retracts. Good. Erections like this are pretty common at his age. It means only one thing, when little boys strain their tiny penises... You're not going to pee on me, are you? I better move to the side."

Jimmy was indeed struggling with the sharp urge to pee, that had been building up since the nurse put the thermometer in his butt. He couldn't even decide which urge was stronger now: number one or number two. Both were driving him insane, the only thought in his head being to somehow endure this horrible checkup without a wet or messy accident.

The doctor's cold fingers moved lower, making Jimmy flinch. The tall Scandinavian goddess was now feeling his sensitive balls, rolling them in her hand.

"Both testicles have fully descended." she announced to Jimmy's mom, continuing her ministrations.

Jimmy shivered and squirmed in extreme discomfort. The tickle was unbearable. It felt like being touched by icicles. Under the gaze of her equally cold steel blue eyes. Her white medical lab coat made her look like the Snow Queen: the evil main character of the fairytale, that gave Jimmy frequent nightmares: to the point he couldn't sleep in the dark. He was afraid the Snow Queen would come in the middle of the night and take him, while his mom happily sleeps in her bedroom. Looked like the kidnapper and torturer of little boys finally found him. Was this cruel Scandinavian doctor going to take him to Lapland? Or torture him here, on the tropical island?

"See how his testicles jump when I touch them?" Dr.Larsen pointed out for Jimmy's mom. "Excellent sensitivity. Especially here, behind the scrotum."

She flicked her fingers across Jimmy's most ticklish spot: the back of his boy's sack. Covered in goose bumps and uncontrollably shaking, he couldn't stand the excruciating tickle torture anymore. But worst of all the tickle impaired his ability to resist the sharp urge to pee.

"Make sure to check his reflexes often," the doctor asked Laura. "For example when you change his diapers or bath him. Both boy's testicles need to pull up in his little sack when he's lightly tickled between his legs. Very good."

Seeing her son's distress along with his bobbing willy and other tell tale signs of the impending "baby boy's fountain", Laura wondered if the doctor was trying to get Jimmy to pee. She often used the same tickling trick when he was little. It stopped working at the age of three. Would be interesting to see the doctor succeed. Of course a pediatrician is more skilled manipulating little boy's willies and balls, than any mom.

"Just tickle him?" Laura asked the doctor.

"Yes." the doctor nodded. "Like this. Use very light touch. Just glide your fingertips over his sensitive areas."

Jimmy couldn't hold his pee anymore. He groaned and let go, releasing a long stream out of his willy.

"Oh my gosh, Jimmy!" Laura was anxiously waiting for this moment, but decided to act surprised. "I am so sorry, doctor."

"I knew that was gonna happen!" Lucy giggled. "Little boys use every opportunity to show off their peeing skills."

Jimmy gathered all his strength and stopped peeing. His face was so hot, one could use it to boil water. He wished the Earth would open and swallow him.

"Did you do it on purpose?" Laura asked her son with a stern look, trying to hide excitement.

"It's OK," the doctor smiled condescendingly. "Every boy does it here."

"They sure do," the nurse confirmed with a scoffing chuckle. "Makes collecting urine samples a breeze."

"Good idea," the doctor nodded. "Would you, Molly?"

The nurse put a plastic cup under Jimmy's willy.

"Go on," she told Jimmy. "Don't be shy. Fill this cup, honey."

Jimmy desperately needed to pee, but he couldn't imagine springing a fountain again in front of everybody.

"Little boys always do it at the worst possible moment," the doctor sighed. "But when you actually want one to pee... in the cup for a urine sample or in his potty instead of wetting his pants... every single one becomes so stubborn."

"Sweetie, you need to pee in the cup." Laura firmly told her son.

"Hold on," the doctor smirked. "Let me bring something to help him tinkle."

She went to the fridge in the corner of the room and dispensed a few ice cubes into a plastic cup.

"This should speed things up," the doctor explained to Laura upon her return, taking an ice cube out if the cup. "The easiest way to make a child pee when you need to collect a urine sample, is to rub his lower tummy with an ice cube."

Jimmy's body jolted at the touch of the ice below his belly button. The urge to pee instantly intensified and he let out a short spurt.

"Good boy!" the doctor smiled. "Let's just aim your little spigot in the cup."

She took the boy's willy in her cold fingers.

"Why don't you pee a little more?" the doctor asked Jimmy, visibly enjoying his embarrassment. "We need a full cup, honey."

With his eyes full of tears Jimmy kept wondering, why his doctor and nurse were so determined to collect his urine sample right here, with everyone watching. Not to mention they were making him pee like a helpless toddler: lying on his back in the humiliating diapering position.

"So that's how one makes a boy pee?" Lucy asked, taking interest in their efforts.

"Yes," the doctor explained, resuming to tickle Jimmy's lower tummy with a dripping ice cube. "The cold makes the bladder contract and causes the urge to urinate."

"I thought you'd rub his pee-pee or something," Lucy giggled.

"That works too. But we can't contaminate his urethra right now, since we need a urine sample."

The 12 year old girl looked perplexed, prompting Dr.Larsen to explain the term: "The little slit at the tip of the boy's penis."

The doctor gently rolled back Jimmy's foreskin - just enough to show Lucy his pee hole.

"There is another technique," she continued. "Very effective considering how cold my fingers are after holding ice. Leave it on his tummy and use your hand to tickle him. Here, behind the scrotal sack. Every boy's most ticklish spot."

"Oh my gosh!" Lucy laughed watching Jimmy spurt a long stream. "Now he's really trying!"

"See how easy it was?" the doctor turned to Laura, stroking the back of her son's quivered ballsack. "Even the most stubborn kids can't hold their pee, if you know the right spots. He won't be able to stop if you keep tickling him. Let's make him empty his bladder."

It couldn't be any worse. Lying naked on the changing table with the evil doctor making him pee for everyone's amusement. She took complete control over his most private body functions.

"The testicles are very sensitive at his age," the doctor explained to Laura. "Use it to your advantage. The tickle makes it difficult for the child to fight the urge. It forces him to relax his muscles and let go."

The doctor used her fingertips to play with Jimmy's balls.

"Look at that!" she smiled "Trying to impress us, aren't you Jimmy? At last! Doing your little boy's business. Is it always that hard to get you to tinkle in the potty? You prefer wetting your pants, don't you?"

She shook the last drops off Jimmy's pee-pee.

"Tickle and cold." she told Laura with a satisfied smile. "All there is to make a little boy pee. Chill your hands with ice before his diaper change, and he'd spring his baby boy's fountain, guaranteed. You'll save a lot on diapers, you know. By making sure he emptied his bladder before you put a new diaper on him."

"Doubt he'd like my cold hands."

"Don't feel sorry for him. Diaper changes shouldn't be pleasant for children his age. Makes stubborn boys like him learn to use potty quicker."

"Never though the tickle trick works on older boys," Laura told Dr.Larsen. "I used it to get Jimmy to pee in the potty, when he was little. But it stopped working when he turned three."

"The reflex weakens with age, when the child develops better bladder control. But it never goes away. And can be reversed, you know." The doctor winked at Laura. "We'll talk about it in a moment."

Jimmy gave the pretty doctor a suspicious look. What was going on here? What they were going to do to him?

"It's time, Molly," Dr.Larsen told the nurse pointing at the thermometer.

"Brace yourself!" the nurse chuckled, abruptly jerking the plastic stick out of the boy's butt, followed by the loud pooping.

"Eew!" Lucy held her nose in mock disgust. "Ma! Look, that boy pooped a lot more than Matty having his thermometer taken out."

"Good," Lucy's mom smiled sarcastically, "Guess he's no longer constipated."

Red-faced Jimmy wondered how he didn't die of shame.

"I told you the thermometer would help," the nurse winked at his mom.

"Why you held all that poop, honey?" Laura asked, embarrassing Jimmy even more. "Didn't I ask you to go potty before leaving the house?"

Jimmy's answer was more poop coming out of his violently contracting hole. He couldn't stop until the painful cramps in his stomach passed.

"Oh my gosh, that wasn't it?" Lucy laughed. "How much poop such a little boy can hold?"

"Quite a bit!" Jimmy's nurse chuckled, still holding his legs up in the air.

"You think he's gonna make more poopies?" Lucy giggled. "He hasn't..."

"Peed?" the nurse winked at the girl touching Jimmy's balls with an ice cube.

The sudden cold touch took the boy by surprise, making him convulsively spurt a stream of pee.

"Here we go!" she proceeded with tickling behind the boy's balls with her cold fingers. "A little more, honey. Good boy! All done? Peed and pooped everything out?"

She pulled the dirty diaper cloth from under Jimmy's bottom, and threw it in a special bin.

"You seem to know a lot about little boys." she told Lucy, starting to clean Jimmy's butt with a wet wipe.

"That they spring a fountain after pooping?" Lucy giggled. "Everyone knows that."

"Keep still!" the nurse told Jimmy, wiping his balls with an ice-cold wipe.

"What a restless baby!" Lucy giggled. "Baby boys can't lie still during diaper changes."

Lying in the diapering position, Jimmy couldn't see, that the nurse put an ice cube inside a folded baby wipe she was cleaning his boy parts with. It tickled so bad, the urge to pee started to build up again. She took her time tormenting the shivering boy, and even more putting the diaper rash cream on his most ticklish spots: the butt crack, anal opening, balls, willy, and groin folds. She was immensely enjoying Jimmy's discomfort and embarrassment. Unable to kick his legs firmly held by her other hand, the boy squirmed, desperately trying to escape the nurse's tickling fingers.

"All done and ready for you, Dr.Larsen!" Molly declared after a few agonizing minutes, allowing Jimmy to lower his legs.

The young doctor took over, proceeding with the thorough physical: listening to Jimmy's lungs and heart, feeling his tummy, and checking his throat. She kept the naked boy lying on the table, like a six-months old.

"No signs of diaper rash," the doctor told Jimmy's mom after spreading his legs. "You take such a good care of your son's skin."

"I try."

Jimmy was upset, that his moms started to play along again. Why couldn't she tell the doctor that he didn't wear diapers? And what... his eyes widened... his nurse was holding in her hands? Definitely a pack of baby diapers. He's never heard of that brand: "Happy Wetters". The package featured a boy his age, wearing an explicitly babyish purple-striped diaper. "Boy diapers. Ages 7-8" Jimmy read. Everything pointed out those diapers were for him.

"Perfect," the nurse nodded after briefly holding a diaper next to Jimmy's crotch. "Which one you like more, sweetie? This one with stars and rockets? Or you prefer trucks and buses?"

He was lost for words. The nurse was indeed about to diaper him. What for? The checkup was, thankfully, over. What was holding his mom here? Jimmy couldn't wait to get out of the "baby clinic". Before someone put a diaper on him or stuck a pacifier in his mouth. But most importantly he wouldn't have to lie on the changing table naked.

"What are you doing?" the nurse stopped Jimmy's hand from reaching his underwear. "The doctor didn't tell you to sit."

"Uhm... getting dressed."

"You can't wear your old clothes, silly. They are contaminated."

The nurse grabbed all Jimmy's clothing including his snickers and threw it in the bin with a biohazard emblem. He didn't know what "contaminated" meant, but his heart sunk upon realizing, that his ordeal was far from over. Jimmy recalled how his mom packed plenty of her clothes, but none of his. No, they wouldn't... He wanted off this island. Immediately. On the first flight home.

"I don't know if your mom lets you dress all by yourself," the nurse continued in a patronizing tone. "But here, in a pediatric office, only adults can dress and undress little kids like you."

Jimmy bit his lip. Arguing would just keep him naked longer.

"Let me find something suitable for a boy, like you," the nurse said.

She reached under the table and showed Jimmy a short t-shirt with the nursery print. Was she serious? He'd never wear anything so embarrassing. He's not two. Didn't they have plain t-shirts? Of any color. Or just white.

"Come on, sweetie. Raise your arms."

She was serious.

"Jimmy!" Laura gave her son a stern look. "Let the nurse put the t-shirt on you!"

Jimmy reluctantly raised both arms. Whatever. They'd go to the nearest clothing store and buy him something normal. Let's just get out of here. Which he obviously couldn't do naked.

"So cute," the nurse admired Jimmy. "Now lie down again, honey."

"Absolutely adorable," Lucy said, reminding Jimmy she was still there, staring at him. "Boys are so cute bottomless."

He blushed realizing the short t-shirt barely covered his belly button. Come on, pretty nurse! Where is my underwear and pants?

"Legs up!" the nurse took a hold of Jimmy's ankles. "Here comes the diaper!"

"I am not wearing it!" Jimmy protested.

"I am sorry, sweetie." the nurse started to explain with a hint of sarcasm. "I know you are a big boy, who goes potty..."

Jimmy cringed. Why everyone kept using that word around him? It's been years since he sat on a plastic potty. And why so much attention to the toilet business?

"But every kid is required to wear diapers in the hospital," the nurse continued. "Regardless of age."

"What hospital?!" The nurse's words hit Jimmy like a lightning. "Mom! What she's talking about?"

"Manners, young man!" Laura raised her voice, trying to hide a guilty smile. "You know the nurse's name."

"Mom, what's going on here?"

"I am sorry, honey."

"Your mommy didn't tell you?" the doctor joined the conversation. "All new arrivals under the age of ten are quarantined and monitored for 24 hours in a special medical facility. We need to run a few additional tests. To make sure you didn't bring any nasty infections from the mainland. The children born on the island don't have immunity against those."

Jimmy managed to understand only half of doctor's reasoning. Her voice was calm, and everything seemed logical. Though still didn't make his situation any better. Why he agreed to come to this island? Was that decision ever up to him? Did his mom know what a horrible mistake she made? This humiliating checkup alone... Has it taught her anything? And now... the hospital?

"I wanna go home!" Jimmy couldn't hold back his tears anymore. "Mom! Please! Let's go back. I don't want to be here."

He wept in despair, realizing not only his mom knew about everything he'd be subjected to on this island, including the hospital, but she also knew what was going to happen to him at that hospital. No one routinely goes to a hospital just for "observation" upon arriving at a tropical resort.

"'Please, mommy!" Jimmy begged. "I don't wanna go to a hospital!"

"It's only one day, baby."

"But I don't wanna!" Jimmy cried louder. "I don't wanna be there! I don't wanna wear a diaper!"

"For someone who claims he's too big to be in diapers, you sure bawl like a one-year old," the doctor said with a condescending smile. "Look at other kids. Not a single one threw a tantrum."

Jimmy felt silly and embarrassed during his pathetic protest, lying on the changing table butt-naked. The lack of underwear was his last worry now, as his mom was about to leave him at this terrifying clinic. The scary fairytale was unfolding right before his eyes. The cruel Snow Queen in the white coat was taking him from his mother to her ice palace: the hospital, where she tortured kidnapped little boys.

"I think it's best for you to leave." Dr.Larsen gently touched Laura's arm. "He'll never stop crying with you here."

"I understand," Laura said with a heavy sigh.

No matter how much she prepared herself for this moment, it was impossible to walk away from her crying son. Did she make a mistake? Should she grab him and catch the first flight back? Then what? She already quit her old job. Which she hated upon waking up every morning. No! She was not going to throw away her, and her son's future over one day in a hospital. Eight year old boys don't plan their future. The moms do.

"Calm down, baby," Laura tried to wipe away Jimmy's tears. "I'll see you tomorrow. Be a good boy and do everything the doctors and nurses tell you."

Laura bent over the changing table and hugged her son, noticing how nice his bare butt felt, wrapped by her arm.

"I love you, Jimmy," she quickly kissed him on the forehead and turned away to hide tears in her eyes.

"Mooommyyy!" Jimmy screamed. "Please! Don't leave me here!"

"Let's go!" Dr.Larsen pulled Laura's arm with more determination.

"Aaaah! Mommy!" Jimmy continued to cry hysterically.

"10 milligrams of T!" the young doctor ordered, briefly turning her head back. "I've had enough of him! And Molly, please make sure he is placed in Unit 2B after the operation. They know how to handle fussy babies."

An operation? Jimmy gasped for air. His suspicions were right. It wasn't just "a couple of routine tests". Everyone here, particularly that mean blond doctor, knew he was 100% healthy.

What they were going to do to him? Turn him into a helpless baby since everyone here treated him like one already? Probably not. He saw other boys his age and even older walking the streets of the island. What else could they do to him?

A better question was what his mom agreed to? Since she clearly knew about the "operation". And... he sobbed in despair... it was probably her who organized the whole thing. What she wanted done to him? She kept calling him her little baby for the past several weeks. What's up with all her jokes about his return to toddlerhood? Recalling how well he behaved when he was two. Dreaming how much they would have enjoyed it again together. He didn't think much about those remarks. Was she really serious?

No one can be turned into a baby. It's not physically possible. He knew at least that much at the age of eight. But the whole island seemed to be about one thing: the babyhood. In its worst form: the complete absence of privacy. Whatever the evil doctors were going to do to him, was to make him comply with the island's demeaning customs.

"Let me diaper you before you made a mess," the cute nurse reminded Jimmy of his predicament. "Tiff! Could you help me with him please?"

"You want me to hold him down?" another pretty nurse came to Jimmy's changing table.

"Please."

The other nurse grabbed Jimmy by his ankles and raised his legs.

"Thanks."

"Let me go!" the crying boy demanded. "Where's mommy?"

"You always get fussy ones, Molly," Tiff said.

"Well, what do you expect from an eight year old one? To calmly let you diaper him? Should have behaved. He's going to pay fro his tantrum. Angie sent him to 2B."

"Amy's dungeon? A bit harsh for refusing to wear a diaper, don't you think?"

"I'm just a nurse. I don't make those decisions."

"Poor baby. You know, Molly, what happens to cuties like him in 2B."

"They get undivided Amy's attention. He brought it on himself. Alright, lift his bum, so I can slide a diaper under it."

"Why don't you let him stay bottomless? It's a crime to cover such a cute bum. Even with a diaper."

"You know it's not up to us. Besides, you should have seen the load he pooped out after I took his rectal temp. How long before he does it again?"

Jimmy looked at the nurses, trying to comprehend their conversation. Who was Amy? Some super-mean doctor, who tortured little boys?

"Almost forgot." Molly produced a small disposable syringe and filled it from one of the tiny bottles on the nearby cart.

"That'd clam him down for sure" Tiff smiled.

"Hold him still" Molly released a small spurt of clear liquid out of the syringe and bent over Jimmy.

He felt a sting in his right thigh.

"All done," the nurse smiled. "Now let's put this diaper on you, before you peed all over the table."

Jimmy wanted to protest, but suddenly felt the strange weakness come over him. His last sight before drifting off to sleep was Molly's pretty face: reddish blond hair, full lips, upturned nose, and the huge blue eyes. Looking straight at him, while fastening the diaper tabs.

3. Raising a Good Boy: the National Feminist Perspective

The doctor took Laura into her office, decorated with pictures of cute naked boys.

"All your patients?" Laura looked around.

"Cute. Aren't they? Would you mind if I add your son's photo?"

"Not at all."

"Such a sweetie. Though can be a real handful."

"I am so sorry for his accidents. He didn't get any of his pee on you, did he?"

"No worries. Actually... we made him pee and poop on purpose. An important behavior reinforcement - making an eight year old experience a loss of bladder and bowel control. Giving him a glimpse, what it is like to be a toddler. Makes the further regression therapy easier."

"I see."

"You think anyone needs their urine samples? We just take them in the most humiliating manner. Which," the doctor switched to a serious professional tone. "… is what you are gonna be doing for the next two years: putting your son in different embarrassing situations. Boys should live in constant shame."

"Shame saves lives?" Laura chuckled, recalling the main ETB staple.

"It really does."

"So he peed because you tickled him?"

"He's going to after the correction procedure. Today though, there were a few extra steps to induce the urination and defecation urges. First, Molly gave him a generous dose of fast acting diuretic rectally."

"I was wondering what that ointment was. Never seen it before."

"Second, she covered the thermometer with a strong laxative."

"Your thermometers are rather unusual. Designed... to relieve constipation?"

"Glad you figured it out."

Both women laughed.

"And finally, all our pediatricians hold ice cubes in their hands before entering the exam room. You should chill your hands too for a diaper change, if you enjoy innocent baby boy fountains."

"Are you going to perform Jimmy's correction? Is that... a real surgery?"

"Yes and no. It's a series of precise shots into the spinal cord, assisted by electromagnetic imaging to hit the exact sensory pathways. The surgeon stimulates the patient's urge to urinate to find the right "wire" transmitting the signal to the brain. Having found the right neural pathway, the surgeon administers the growth hormone into it."

"Making the wire thicker?"

"Significantly. A similar shot is administered into the neural "wire" responsible for transmitting the defection urge. Wider wires transmit signals better, intensifying the urges several times. There is a lot more to it. I am just trying to explain it to you in simple terms."

"That's it? Just two... wires? What about the tickle one?"

"There isn't a single wire responsible for tactile senses. Not to mention the human body has many ticklish spots. The whole tickle reflex is rather a side effect. See, when the urination and defecation urge pathways grow, they intertwine with other neural "wires", typically of the tactile sensory tract, since the signals are coming from the skin closest to the boy's penis and anus. Basically the whole groin area plus the tummy. The correction makes it extremely sensitive."

"So when he feels the tickle those tickle wires get hot and... short the peeing and pooping ones?"

"Exactly. I see you are starting to grasp the concept. Normal infants exhibit the same reflex due to the extremely narrow spinal cord with many wires tightly pressed together."

"That's why I was able to tickle him to pee when he was little."

"Not only the correction restores the specific infant reflexes in older children: urinating when tickled between the legs, and defecating in response to the irritation of the anus. It makes them several times stronger."

"Is it painful?"

"The shots? Somewhat. Plus the patient needs to be completely immobilized. So we prefer general anesthesia."

"Is it reversible?"

"No need. Without additional shots the effect simply goes away - approximately by the time your son reaches puberty. As the vertebral column grows, it provides more space for the spinal cord, and the wires stop touching each other."

"Will he need followup injections then - while we are here?"

"Very unlikely. One should cover the full two years. It only sets the baseline though. So if you want to increase your son's sensitivity to tickle, all you need to do, is tickle him more. To heat up and short more wires, melting them together. The effect lasts for several hours. We recommend prolonged tickling sessions at least once a day. You'll find the right occasion. Most moms prefer to do it right before the child's bath, since the things usually get quite messy. You can "train" your son's reflexes more often, if you wish. You won't hurt him. No one has ever died of tickle or thorough anal stimulation."

"How interesting. Never thought I'd be able to fine-tune such things."

"To a certain extent. You'd need professional help to turn your boy into a six month old infant, peeing and pooping from a single touch."

"You can do that?"

"A specially trained nurse can. Ask your regular pediatrician about tac-stim sessions... Tactile stimulation... Intense tickling after the application of a special ointment, that increases the skin sensitivity. Plus various mechanical and electric stimulators. Again, an absolutely safe treatment. Though somewhat extreme for the boy: keeps him on the verge of fainting. Oh... and be prepared to deal with wet and messy pants a lot more often, since he won't be able to hold either urge for longer than a couple of seconds."

"I'll think about it. It does seem a little extreme."

"It's your son. You decide, how much fun to have with him. Just make sure he'll have embarrassing accidents daily, providing an opportunity to change him. Ideally in public. Let others change him too: your friends, their daughters, even strangers offering their help. Make every change the most unpleasant and humiliating experience."

"I'll try."

"He'll also spend a lot of time at regular and after-school daycares. And with babysitters, who humiliate boys much better, than moms. There are plenty of "bad cops" he'll be exposed to, so you can be a good one."

Dr.Larsen proceeded to explain how they rotated the caretaker staff: hospital and pediatric office nurses, babysitters, not allowed to look after one boy for longer than two months, daycare workers, and anyone else who comes in contact with her son.

"It teaches him, that any girl or woman can undress him and touch his boy parts," she explained. "Changing his pants and diapers, bathing, sitting him on the potty, and otherwise caring for him. Not to mention the complete control over his urination and defecation. Anytime, anywhere. That'll remind him of his pathetic self when he grows up - every time he goes to the bathroom.

We carefully pick caretaker personalities to alternate between good and bad cops," she explained. "Making the boy wonder what comes next. Uncertainty is a powerful tool to reinforce the feeling of vulnerability and despair. Not to mention the shame of being seen naked by someone new. And having embarrassing accidents in that person's presence. You are required to alternate babysitters with daycare environment. Your son's pediatrician will also make sure the child visits the hospital once in a while. The next two years are going to be quite a ride for him. And you. Hope you are ready."

"I am."

"His potty business is really up to you. You can make him go potty often to avoid wet and messy pants. But we recommend staging a couple of accidents every day - ideally at some public place like a busy mall. Or when you have guests. Your son needs to be constantly reminded of his condition."

"I understand the humiliation aspect of potty training older boys," Laura said. "Don't get me wrong. It's a much better idea, than for example diaper punishment. But how do I make it last for two and a half years? Sure he'll be embarrassed to use the potty for the first couple of weeks, especially under my supervision..."

"Not just yours. Guests, babysitters, daycare workers, nurses... We'll make sure to rotate all his caregivers, so he won't get used to one person."

"I get that. But the concept is rather simple to grasp, don't you think? For an eight year old. What am I supposed to do if, I mean when he starts using his potty?"

"First off, he cannot "use" it on his own. He needs to ask you for his potty. Telling you what he needs to do: pee-pees or poopies. Make him uses those baby terms. And while you'd always put the potty in the living room, so you and ideally some quests can observe his little boy's business, keep it locked in the bathroom when not used: off-limits for your son."

"OK. What if he starts regularly asking for his potty?"

"Don't give it to him right away."

"What am I going to tell him?"

"A lot of different things. You can make him ask for his potty again, using the proper words and tone. Keep doing it for a minute or two and he'll wet or mess himself. You can simply forget where you put the potty. You can tell him you are busy. Many moms dial their friends when they see the signs that the kid needs to go potty."

Dr.Larsen showed Laura a special number to chat with a bot.

"Or you can find him something to do," she continued. "You can also keep him from asking for a potty by scolding him. Experienced moms and babysitters time their scolding. Looks like your kind of fun?"

"To scold the kid when he's about to wet his pants? What'd I scold him for?"

"There is always enough mischief. How about his potty training failure?"

Laura chuckled. It did seem like fun.

"You should also time all your public outings, so he'll be surrounded by people when he feels the urge. Obviously you can't carry a potty with you everywhere you go. Nor there are public restrooms for little kids on our island. I mean no restroom for males.

But most importantly it is you, not him - who decides when he needs to go number one or number two. Offer him the potty at the worst time, when you have guests in the house. Ask one of them - ideally some teenage girl to help your son with his potty business: hold his willy, massage his tummy, wipe his butt... Ask him to use the potty after a recent accident, when his bladder is empty. Praise him for being a good boy and using his potty in public. There will always be some 12-14 year old girls, who'd tease him about it. Discuss his potty training with your friends and even strangers: moms you meet at the mall, playgrounds, and bus stops.

One way or another trick him into refusing to pee and poop in the potty. Believe me, asking him to use the potty in the most embarrassing context will make him clamp up. It's not that hard to make an eight year old boy hate his potty.

And don't forget, that the correction procedure made things very easy for you. It gives the boy a 30-second window to go potty like a "good boy". All you need to do is delay giving your son the potty for a minute or so. He'll have an accident, guaranteed."

"Right."

"Besides, the potty privilege needs to be earned. The key to never completing your son's potty training is focusing on its very early stage called elimination communication. Are you familiar with that concept?'

"The eco-friendly way of raising a baby?" Laura smirked sarcastically. "Without landfills full of disposable diapers?"

She tried the so called EC, when Jimmy was two: not because of its environmental aspect, but solely to enjoy watching her son do his little boy's business right in front of her. She did for a couple of days - until realizing she didn't need to practice EC to make her son entertain her with baby boy fountains. She saw plenty of action during diaper changes and baths.

Though right now, applied to a shy eight year old, the idea of holding him butt-naked over a plastic basin or potty took on a completely new meaning. Laura was confident she'd be able to hold her eight year old son in such "classic EC position". It'd surely make his face way redder, than just being sat on the potty.

"The environmental benefits of EC are really a bonus," the doctor explained. "Your main goal should be maximizing the shame. EC typically precedes potty training, so "teaching" an eight year old to pee and poop on cue before you can trust him with using a potty is perceived as an infant's activity, a lot more demeaning than being forced to wear a diaper. Not to mention EC requires him to do his little boy's business in the full view of the supervising adult: held on the changing table in a diapering position or over a basin, bathroom sink, or another receptacle with his legs raised and spread. It takes away the last bit of privacy the potty offers."

"I always told him to keep his knees apart, when I sat him on the potty," Laura recalled.

"Right. A supervising adult should always be able to monitor the process. But wouldn't you agree, an EC hold is just more fun."

"Holding both of his legs up in a suspended squat position, with the butt and boy package hanging over the potty? Absolutely!"

"Take your time with EC, and your son's potty training will stretch over the two and a half years quite naturally. You are the one who decides when to make the switch from holding him over the potty to letting him sit on it. Let him graduate from EC and fail at traditional potty training."

"By staging a few accidents?"

"Which would prompt you to "start over" with the part-time (diaper-wearing) EC, followed by a diaper-free stage, then another try at potty training, which he'll predictably fail at again."

"Never thought of EC that way. I can basically reset Jimmy's potty training as often, as I like."

"Exactly. Would be rather awkward without the EC stage you can always go back to, wouldn't it? Get yourself familiar with EC terms. Here's a couple for you. "Pottytunity" - an opportunity to potty the little one. Basically any time you feel like making him pee or poop. The "catch" concept doesn't really apply, since the correction makes it easy for you to get the needed results, making the likelihood of a catch 100%. You can still use "special sounds" like "pss" and grunting, along with cooing your son into making his little boy's business. It's more to embarrass him with babytalk and assert his infant status, than actually coerce him to pee or poop. Scrotal tickling and anal stimulation produce the results within seconds."

Dr.Larsen glanced at her smartwatch. Plenty of time before the next appointment.

"In addition to the spinal injections to correct the urination and defecation urges, we take care of a few other things," she told Laura. "We use mild hormonal therapy to give boys a perfect, slightly feminine body. Your son will basically look like a three year old: with a bubble butt, the arched back to attenuate it, and a slightly round tummy. The right diet will keep him in shape: not too skinny and not chubby."

"What about his..."

"Genitals? We ensure, that they stay slightly underdeveloped. Not abnormally small. Just toddler-like, even erect. An innocent little penis a cupid or angel would have. Not a scaled down version of an adult..." Dr.Larsen momentarily wrinkled her face in disgust. "...dick".

That's how Laura liked little boys' pee-pees: small and infantile.

"Embrace your feelings," the doctor continued. "There is nothing to be ashamed of. No taboos. You are free to enjoy all your previously forbidden desires. As long, as you are not hurting the child... physically. You can't hurt someone you love, can you? Everything you do to your son, is for his own good, whether it is pleasant or not."

"I am not into spanking, if that's what you mean."

"We tolerate corporal punishment to a certain degree. Not severe caning or anything explicitly sadistic like that. As far, as tickling... like I said, no one has ever died of it. A very effective way to reinforce the right behavior. Without cuts, bruises, or any lasting damage.

One more thing about their little penises. Not sure if you've noticed by watching the boy checkups, none of them was circumcised. We are strictly against that barbaric procedure. It traumatizes the child, and also makes the penis adult-like - a big no-no here. We don't accept circumcised boys into the program.

From the physiological point of few, the foreskin keeps the penis glans sensitive, allowing several types of manipulations to cause the strong urination urge. Among otherwise extreme sensations. One more effective technique to make the boy behave in addition to tickling his extremely sensitive scrotum.

Which should be smooth, round, and tight. To maintain the same toddler appearance even at the age of 10. That's, by the way, when you are required to leave the island."

"In two years, I know."

"It's hard to fight changes in older boy's physique. We can take care of the pubic hair, but will inevitably lose the battle with the adolescence, when boys start to look masculine. Some moms are into that, and you are free to enjoy that stage of your son's development. Just not on our island. The ETB program ends at the age of 11.

What else? Special additives to eliminate the poop odor. Makes the child defecate more often: at least five times a day. Plenty of opportunities for you to stage an accident. And punish him for it. Softly, like a mother would: e.g. making him do his business lying legs-up on the changing table.

The correction takes away the control of the bladder and bowels, but we don't want complete incontinence: when the child doesn't feel that he wet his pants. We want the boy to experience intense urination and defecation urges. And fight them with everything he has... for a minute or so. We want him to live in constant fear of unpleasant and embarrassing accidents.

And we want him to know that adults: the women are in complete control of his two most private body functions. Not only you decide when and where your son does his potty business. You also decide how: in his pants, in the potty, held legs-up on the changing table, etc.

It is not up to him at all. He should live in constant uncertainty, not knowing if being good would spare him from unpleasant treatments. For example, put him on the changing table even after he diligently pooped in his potty. Tell him you want to check if he peed and pooped everything out. Boys never do. Next time he'll try harder, but it won't save him from the unpleasant tickling and anal stimulation.

Most importantly he should learn that once he was asked to pee or poop, his caretaker: you, daycare worker, pediatric nurse, or even a 12 year old girl babysitting him, will always get the results, no matter how hard he resists.

As far, as the home attire, try to keep him butt-naked as much, as possible. Especially when you have guests."

"Running around the house bottomless is customary during toddler's potty training."

"And caring for toddlers provides plenty of opportunities to leave the child completely nude. You should expose your son to sun and air. Does wonders to the immune system. We also offer special massage therapists that make house calls. Everything is free.

Of course no excessive nudity in public, except at designated places: beaches, kiddie pools, fun fountains... You can't keep him naked or bottomless 100% of the time, because he'll get used to nudity. It is the act of undressing the boy in the presence of others, that makes him blush. Generally he should only wear pants to pee and poop in them - ideally in public. So you'll have an excuse to take them off.

Natural, isn't it? No need to explain weird rules that boys need to be naked all the time, they need no modesty, etc. We want him to be very modest. And we want you to tell him why he doesn't deserve privacy: for wetting and messing his pants and otherwise acting like a toddler.

No underwear. It just increases the amount of laundry, since he'd wet it together with his pants."

"What about diapers?"

"Use them once in a while, when you take your son out. Make sure the diaper is visible. Most moms don't allow their kids to wear anything over it, though it's as embarrassing covered with tights. In any case, try not to diaper him often. Remember, it's EC and potty training.

Any bottoms come off completely when you sit him on the potty. And he stays butt-naked until he does a thorough job filling it. How thorough is for you to decide. You may scold him for not peeing or pooping enough and leave him without pants. Unless you specifically want him to wet or mess his tights.

"They are not really tights. More like footed yoga pants. So cute. "

"Yet absorbent enough to contain an accident."

"Are they? Like diapers?"

"Pretty much. Except for letting everyone see, if the boy wet or messed himself."

"Whose idea was it?"

"Thank Chairman Arianna. Thick boy tights are quite common in her home country: Ukraine. The whole Eastern Bloc actually. They are also very popular in Germany. Tights are as much of a symbol of toddlerhood over there, as diapers. And work much better than the Chinese take on EC clothing: split pants."

"The ones with a hole cut out around the crotch and butt? They look so funny."

"Yeah, but why not just leave the kid bottomless if you want to admire his naked butt? Why to cover it with any pants, if you still need to deal with puddles on the floor?"

"You are right. Should be either absorbent pants that contain the mess or no pants at all. Besides, they are so stretchy and tight, it's like wearing nothing."

"That's the idea."

"Why only in Europe? Little boys look absolutely adorable in them."

"Well, you know, the whole homophobia thing... Though we don't want to make that specific statement. No pink or purple tights. I mean, no one's going to stop you. It's your son. But most moms stick with boys colors: blue, green, or yellow. The white ones... are more of a dressy kind: for special occasions."

"To make the boy wet or mess them during some kids party? Would be so funny."

"The most important part is subtlety. He should never suspect he's treated unfairly and constantly being belittled. With no explicit insults or punishments like severe spanking there is nothing he can complain about.

The tickling? You just happen to clean and lubricate the most ticklish spots between his legs. Or gently stimulate him do his potty business, so he won't wet or poop his pants.

Cold wiping? To teach him a lesson not to wet and mess himself.

Some moms get very creative with their punishments: marching their sons around town after they wet themselves, making them ride a small toddler tricycle in messy pants, massaging the butt to mash the load inside. I've even heard of one mom using a vibrating massager for that. Have fun, but don't overindulge, so he won't get suspicious.

A boy should remember one thing. Adults always help, whether it is pleasant or not. Because they, I mean the women, know what's better for him. That's the mindset we want to reinforce - unconscious submission to female wisdom and superiority. He's a pathetic little boy who'll always need to be cared for by a strong woman."

Dr.Larsen got up from her desk.

"Can't wait to see Jimmy after the correction," Laura smiled, getting up from her chair as well.

Two women shook hands and Laura left, heading to the nearest kid's superstore. Decorating Jimmy's bedroom... uhm, "nursery" would be so much fun. She decided to buy an additional changing table for the living room: to change her son in front of the guests, enjoying his red face.

4. Nurse Amy

Three hours later Jimmy woke up in a crib-style hospital bed. He felt dizzy and completely disoriented. It took him a few minutes to realize where he was. He's never been hospitalized before, so he didn't know what a pediatric hospital should look like. Most are similar to adult ones - with one or two-person rooms. Plus the privacy curtains around the bed. Just like the unusual pediatric office he went to earlier, the hospital Jimmy was in, had little in common with mainland ones. It didn't have rooms or even wards.

Instead one half of the floor was made a "unit": a large hall with two rows of crib-style pediatric beds. It was essentially a hallway, intentionally designed to have non-stop traffic of doctors, nurses, and little patient moms. The beds stood perpendicular to that wide walking area in the middle. Not only they didn't have curtains, the patients weren't given any blankets. No need for those in a tropical climate anyway.

The unit Jimmy was at: 2B (second floor, East wing) was ran by the head nurse Amy Wilson. Only 25 years old she was a distinguished member of the Worldwide National Feminist Party, awarded a Platinum Venus medal for her research in young male sensitivity and special punishment techniques. That medal, like other WNFP regalia, looked more like an expensive piece of jewelry - a femininity symbol necklace with a tiny Venus rock embedded in it - courtesy of Arianna Orlov's space mining operation. The necklace was always on Amy's neck, reminding others of her untouchable status. Shaking hands with the WNFP's Chairman Arianna during the awards resulted in an unheard of promotion for a young pediatric nurse, making her the head of a hospital unit overnight.

Nurse Amy's cruelty was known well beyond the Central Children's Hospital walls. The whole island talked about her. Sending a boy to the "Nurse Amy hospital" became one of the most effective threats used by big sisters, baby sitters, and even moms.

Those, who've never seen Amy, pictured her as a tall leather-clad gothic queen. She was the exact opposite looks- and personality-wise: a petite 25 year old woman with a perky, almost teen figure and a matching face, that made her look like a high school girl. Whether the rumors of 50-something Chairman Arianna relationship with a 25-year younger Amy were true or not, Amy was the WNFP's standard of female perfection. The slightly round freckled "baby face" with big greenish eyes, cute upturned nose and sensual lips - framed by dark blond hair. The high young voice and and impossibly sweet smile completed the picture.

Amy was raised on the Arianna island since 12, and couldn't imagine living anywhere else. She was the happiest person on the island. She loved her job. The smile never left her lips. Whether she was condescendingly addressing her embarrassed naked patients, trying to cover their boy bits, or she expertly handled boy's most vulnerable tiny appendages, making the poor kid gasp for air and beg for mercy, Amy always did it with a smile.

"That's the new kid? What a cutie!" Jimmy noticed two young nurses stopped by his bed."

"He's just woken up after the anesthesia. Probably doesn't know where he is. How are you feeling, sweetie?"

Jimmy kept staring at the nurse, mesmerized by her beauty. Like most eight year old boys, he knew nothing about sex. Or paid attention to boobs, butt, and other adult female features. He only looked at girls faces.

"How are you doing, little one?" another nurse asked. "Do you feel pain anywhere?"

Jimmy turned her attention to her, struggling to decide who was cuter. It was so humiliating and unfair - being seen by pretty nurses in such condition: lying in an oversized infant crib in a ridiculous attire: babyish t-short and a matching diaper. Which... he felt his face getting red... was already wet. It was only the matter of time before the pretty nurses discover it, since he didn't have any sheet or blanket to cover his shame.

"Any tingling in your lower back?"

The boy shook his head. Why she was so worried about his back? How long he's been out? They must have already performed the procedure. What did they do to him? Removed something from his body? Or inserted? Jimmy didn't know much about surgeries at the age of eight, but being a smart and curious kid, he figured out, that any surgical procedure would leave a scar. One of Jimmy's school friends bragged about his - from having his appendix removed.

Jimmy's body was intact. He already inspected every inch of it - upon realizing where he was. He was too shy and too frightened by anyone in the nurse uniform, to ask questions. Maybe they decided not to do anything to him. Who knows.

"When he was administered M30?" the first nurse reached into her pocket, took out a small tablet, and scanned the bar code on Jimmy's bed rail. "Only an hour ago? Wow! I've never seen the spinal correction work so fast."

"Judging by his diaper condition?" the other nurse felt the front of Jimmy's diaper, making him blush a deeper shade of red. "Already filled it like a six-months old. I suspect, not just with pee."

The nurse smiled slyly and before Jimmy could do anything, casually lifted his legs and felt his diapered bottom.

"That's some load," she said mashing the yucky poop inside Jimmy's diaper.

Feeling the soft poo spread all over his butt and crotch Jimmy pouted and started to sob - that unpleasant and embarrassing it was. Out of all people it had to be these two pretty nurses discovering his pathetic state.

"Aww, poor baby! Did you go poo-poo in your diapie?" the other nurse produced a green pacifier, immediately sticking it in Jimmy's mouth.

Jimmy bit the pacifier, deciding to suck on it, so he wouldn't need to have an embarrassing conversation with those nurses. One kept massaging his dirty bottom, pushing the poop deep into his butt. The sliding mess tickled his balls so badly, he shivered and involuntarily let out a hot stream of pee.

"Did you just pee?" the nurse put her hand on the front of his diaper.

Jimmy wanted to disappear. The experienced pediatric nurse seemed to notice everything. She winked at her colleague and continued her tickling massage of boy's balls through his messy diaper, making him pee again.

"Look at him wetting."

"Yeah, I can see it from here. Guess, the spinal correction is working."

Jimmy flinched, feeling the nurse's finger probe his poop hole, as much as the diaper allowed her. What was the point of such unpleasant ministrations? Was she teaching him some kind of lesson?

"You sure love wetting and messing yourself," she said with a condescending smile.

It wasn't personal. The hospital nurses subjected every little patient to the same humiliating "massage" upon waking up from the general anesthesia. They simply enjoyed embarrassing helpless boys in their care. Especially cute shy ones like Jimmy.

"Wanna change him so badly. See how sensitive he is."

"Me too... Need to wait until Amy sees him. Speaking of the devil..."

"What's going on, girls?" Jimmy looked at the unbelievably pretty young woman approaching his bed. She was surrounded by several 17-18 year old girls in nurse uniform.

"Checking his diaper. He seems to have responded exceptionally well to the spinal correction."

"No kidding! Thank you, sweetie. I'll take it from here. Could the two of you check if anyone else needs a diaper change?"

"Yes, ma'am."

The two nurses quickly walked away.

"I dare you to find a cuter boy among our today's patients." Amy told her girls.

"He is indeed an angel."

"So adorable."

"Angels like that are primarily my responsibility," Amy added. "I'll be using him today to teach you the essential pediatric care techniques."

"So we get to try them on him?"

"Of course. You wouldn't wish for a cuter patient to try different things."

She removed the pacifier from Jimmy's mouth.

"Let's start with the proper introduction. What's you name, sweetie?"

"J-jimmy," managed to say the boy, staring at the nurse.

By now he realized that the pretty young women was "the" Amy everyone was talking about. She didn't look mean at all. Just blindingly beautiful. Her eyes were impossible to break contact with.

Amy was used to little patient's stares and their pathetic elementary school crushes. "Beauty is your main weapon" Chairman Arianna told her, hanging the Venus medal on her neck. "Then your skilled fingers".

Amy knew every patient's name. She just wanted to gauge Jimmy's shyness.

"Hello, little Jimmy," she smiled sweetly. "Looks like you already learned how to properly use a diaper. I am Miss Amy, the head nurse of Unit 2B. And these are our trainees. I am teaching them how to properly care for little boys like you. Please introduce yourself to the patient, girls."

"Amelie."

"Emma."

"Becky."

"Tess."

"Holly."

"Cathy."

"Now, after we got properly acquainted, let's hear from our patient. Are you feeling better, little one?"

"I'm... feeling fine," the dazzled boy mumbled, staring into her huge green eyes.

"The pain's gone? Or the allergic reaction that brought you here?"

"What reaction?" Jimmy hadn't a slightest idea what she was talking about.

"Let's look at your chart," Amy produced a small tablet and scanned Jimmy's bed bar code. "Now I am confused. No allergies. No pain. Was it some other discomfort? Nausea? Constipation? Which seems to be completely cured." She pointed at Jimmy's diaper, making the girls giggle.

Jimmy felt his face getting red. Why she kept bringing up that embarrassing topic?

"Oh, yeah. Found it," Amy said with a condescending smirk, looking into her tablet. "You wouldn't believe me, girls. Such a big boy... Shame, shame... Do you know, why you are in a hospital, Jimmy?"

"For... tests?"

"Really? That's what your mommy told you? OK, let's start with a simpler question. Can you tell me why are you wearing a diaper at the age of eight? Pretty obvious why you need them, huh?"

"I... I don't..." Jimmy struggled to explain, blushing even more. He wasn't just wearing a diaper. He's used it for its intended purpose.

"You don't what? Need diapers? What makes you say that?"

"I'm... too big for them."

"How would you explain your soaked and messy diaper then?"

"Aww! Aren't little boys even cuter, when they blush?" one of the trainee girls giggled.

"It was... and accident," Jimmy struggled to preserve the last bits of dignity.

"How many of those accidents you have daily?"

Jimmy knew she wouldn't believe him. No one here would. Worst of all, he wasn't 100% sure if he wet and mess himself by accident. The previous nurses mentioned a "spinal correction", when they talked about his diaper. Was that "the" procedure? To make him dependent on diapers like a little baby? It didn't make any sense. Like the rest of this island. No sense at all. Just extreme embarrassment.

"I asked you a question, little one!" Amy raised her sweet young voice.

"I dunno."

"Guess you don't have a potty chart at home? To record how you do pee-pees and poo-poos. And reward you with stars when you use the potty. Have you seen a chart like that? No? Your mommy hasn't started potty training you yet, huh?"

Jimmy bit his lip. It was pointless arguing with her. And what could he possibly say with a yucky mess in his diaper?

"We'll start a potty chart for you. What should I put there? Can you tell us what you did? Yes, in your diaper. Come on, everyone is dying to know."

The trainee girls giggled.

"Well, it appears to be a big and stinky... secret, why you need a diaper change," she continued. "You need it, don't you?"

Jimmy froze, unable to answer. He wished the Earth would open and swallow him.

"Hey!" Amy snapped her fingers in front of Jimmy's red face. "Do you need a diaper change or not?"

"I... do," Jimmy mumbled with a nod.

"That's a start. Now tell us why. We have a few rules here. No nurse will change your diaper, until you tell her, what you did in it, apologize, and properly ask for a diaper change."

Jimmy frowned, holding back tears. It was so unfair. Why she was going out of her way to humiliate him?

"It's up to you." Amy shrugged her shoulders. "I don't care if you spend the whole day in this yucky diaper. It's completely soaked and will get very cold and uncomfortable really soon..."

She softened her tone, smiling at him.

"I wanna help you, honey. Admitting that you peed and pooped yourself is the first step towards becoming a big boy... No? Not gonna tell us? I am the one signing your release and I can promise you, that you'll remain here until you learn to behave like a boy your age."

The frightened boy struggled to understand "signing the release", so she put it in simple terms.

"Honey, I decide when you leave the hospital. This..." she pointed at his diaper. "...is a serious condition. It brought you here: to the special unit for children, who wet the bed and otherwise struggle with potty training. I can't let your mommy take you home until you show some progress. Which starts with honesty. Are you ready to tell me what you did in your diaper?"

Jimmy gave the nurse a suspicious look. Was she bluffing? Didn't doctors make such decisions? He knew better, than questioning her authority. And a lot of things were different on this damn island. What if she could keep him in the hospital forever? Jimmy started to sob, feeling completely defeated.

"Don't cry, sweetie," Amy came to his bed and stroked his hair. "Let's start over. What did you do in your diaper?"

"I..." Jimmy took a deep breath, waiting for the hot wave of shame to sweep over his face, and managed to continue... "Peed."

"A lot!" one of the trainee girls giggled.

"Eight year olds make much bigger piddles, than infants, don't you think?" another one smiled.

"It's OK, sweetie," Amy consoled the boy, enjoying his embarrassment. "Isn't it every little boy's natural reaction: to tinkle in the fresh dry diaper? You couldn't resist, could you?"

Jimmy hated the conversation with every fiber of his being, but that was his only way out of the evil hospital.

"Boys being boys..." Amy sighed, "Put one in a diaper, and it won't stay dry for long... So you just made pee-pees in your diapie, honey? Or you want to tell us more?"

She spread Jimmy's legs and pressed his dirty diaper to his crotch, producing a loud squelching sound of mashed poop. The unpleasant sensation made Jimmy squirm.

"Eew!" the girls behind the nurse giggled in mock disgust.

"There is definitely more to your story, dear," Amy smiled. "Go on. Looks like thoroughly soaking your diaper felt so good, you decided to poop in it too, didn't you? Or someone else made that mess?"

The trainee girls broke out laughing.

"Why to waste a good diaper just on pee? Amy chuckled, watching the boy's red face. "Look at me when I am talking to you! We haven't gotten very far. Do you want your mommy to take you home tomorrow?"

Jimmy nodded.

"Then answer my questions. Did you make poopies in your diaper?"

"Yes," the boy whispered.

"Yes, what?"

"I... pooped." Jimmy managed to say.

"No, dear," the nurse corrected him. "Big boys poop. In the potty. While little ones, who wear diapers, make cute little poopies in them. And I want to hear it from you. What did you do in your baby diaper? You made pee-pees and..."

"Poopies," Jimmy said with a crimson face.

"Say it loud, so everyone can hear. I made poopies in my baby diaper."

Jimmy had no choice, but to repeat the humiliating phrase for the nurse and her girls.

"Good! Now tell us why you did it."

"I dunno."

"Yes, you do! You like pooping yourself, don't you? How many times a day you have messy accidents? Do you have them at home? What about school? Who changes your diapers there? The school nurse? Or some teacher's assistant. Am I right? Look at him, girls. The color of his face says it all."

Amy knew no mercy.

"This brings us, little one, to the topic, that started our conversation," she continued. "Do you understand, why you are in this hospital? What happened at the routine medical checkup this morning?"

Jimmy's cheeks burned with shame. She knew everything.

"Tell us. What you rewarded the nurse with for taking your temperature?"

"It... was an accident," Jimmy mumbled, unable to make an eye contact with the nurse.

"Too many accidents, don't you think? I already spoke to Dr.Larsen. She told me everything. That wasn't your only..." she paused with a scornful smile. "...accident during that physical, was it? Wanna tell us how you tried to pee on the doctor, when she was examining your boy parts?"

Jimmy thought his face would catch fire, that hot it was.

"One year olds have accidents. But when a boy your age pees and poops, lying legs-up on the changing table, that's a different story. And I wanna hear it from you. If we don't in the next 30 seconds, I am going to get up and leave. Some nurse will change you diaper eventually. Say, tomorrow morning. But your mommy won't take you home. Neither tomorrow, nor the next day. Nor the next week. Is that what you want? Seems like you really took a liking to wetting and messing yourself. We don't want your mom to deal with it. This facility is much better suited for 24-hour infant care."

Jimmy had no choice, but to tell the mean nurse and her giggling trainees everything that happened during his embarrassing checkup.

"Congratulations, little one!" Amy smiled sarcastically. "Your infantile behavior convinced Dr.Larsen, that you needed additional evaluation for a preteen incontinence syndrome. Or in simpler terms potty-training failure. Turns out, she was absolutely right. Look at your diaper! I feel for your mom. She must have given up on your potty training. Not to worry. We are going to guide you on the right path - to dry pants. Your journey to the potty begins now. By properly asking for a diaper change. Repeat after me..."

The nurse spent several minutes making Jimmy repeat embarrassing confessions, apologize for his diaper condition, and ask her to change it. The boy's face changed several shades of red by the time he was finished.

"Would you mind if one of the girls changes you?" Amy asked him. "Under my supervision of course. They need to learn how to change a boy's diaper."

The question didn't sound like much of a choice. Having a giggling 17 year old girl see your boy parts, let alone touch them, was extremely embarrassing, but all of them were going to watch the diaper change anyway. And it also meant the meanest nurse in the Universe won't be touching him. Who knew what she'd do.

"Who'd do the honors?" Amy looked at her trainees. "Any volunteers?"

"I can change him," one of the girls said casually, doing her best to hide the excitement.

"I wanna change him too!" another one added.

"Can I change him?" the third girl asked.

"Come on," the fourth one sighed. "Who doesn't want to change such a little cutie?"

"Cathy was first," Amy announced her decision. "Come here, kitten."

"So unfair!" the second girl gave Cathy an angry look.

"Y'all will get your chance today." Amy told the girls, taking Jimmy out of his crib.

The nurse put the boy on one of the nearby changing tables. Jimmy cringed. The table stood, as usual, by a large window - for everyone outside to see him naked. Not counting the people walking up and down the isle between the beds.

"I know all of you are experienced babysitters," Amy said after the trainee girls gathered around the changing table. "But let's start with the fundamentals: how to properly hold a child during a diaper change. It is especially important with older boys. What's the oldest you babysat, Cathy?"

"Nine."

"The first rule changing a boy, is standing a little to the side: out of the "splash zone". Secondly you need to be able to securely hold the child with just one hand. There are two ways to do it. You can completely immobilize him by crossing his ankles and grabbing them with one hand, like this. Bring his legs up... You don't need to be strong to hold even a ten year old in this position. Nothing he can do to break loose. And if he resists too much, you can also put his hands on his ankles: one on top of another, covered by your hand. See, now I am holding both of his legs and both of his arms? With just one hand."

Amy allowed the boy to lower his legs.

"The second hold is more... entertaining: behind his knees. Like this... pushing down with your forearm. It allows him to kick his legs, but as any of you, who've tried it, already know, no matter how much little boys kick and squirm, they can't break your hold. So... how you are gonna hold him, Cathy?"

"Behind the knees. Wanna see him kick his legs. So funny, when boys his age act like six month olds during a diaper change."

"Let's see how you handle him," Amy said.

"Looks like I have everything I need..." Cathy assessed the diapering supplies on the table. "Diapers his size, the cream, baby wipes..."

"Let me check those," Amy said, touching the box of wipes. "Not cold enough. Becky, would you bring a new box from the fridge please? And put this one in there to chill."

Amy handed Becky the box.

"Always use chilled baby wipes, when changing boys his age. They should not look forward to being changed after wetting or messing themselves. "Chilled wipes also make your fingers cold, which increases the boy's discomfort. Let's make sure he's not going to enjoy his change."

Becky brought a new box of baby wipes.

"That's what I'm talking about!" Amy said with a satisfied smile. "Now, let's remove his diaper, shall we? Put this towel under his bum in case he wets during the change."

Cathy quickly unfastened Jimmy's diaper and raised the boy's legs.

"Geezus..." she winced after opening it.

"I've seen much dirtier bottoms." Emma shrugged her shoulders, watching Cathy pull the dirty diaper from under the boy's butt.

"Aww, are we ticklish?" Cathy smiled, starting to clean Jimmy's bottom with an ice-cold wipe.

"Look at him kick his legs!"

"So cute."

Shivering Jimmy struggled to endure the cold wiping. He never thought a diaper change could be so unpleasant. As if humiliating him by displaying his naked butt and boy parts to everyone wasn't enough for the mean nurse and her trainees.

"Kick your legs for me!" Cathy smirked. "Here we go! Poor baby... So sensitive. Let's wipe your little jewels again. Now this tiny pickle. And the tummy..."

"They hate cold wipes on their tummies," Amelie noted.

"Could someone give him a pacifier?" Amy asked. "Thank you. Do you always kick and scream like a six month old during diaper changes, Jimmy?"

Cathy took her time wiping the boy's tummy and pubic area, enjoying his squirming and kicking.

"Entertaining us by kicking your legs, huh Jimmy?" she teased the boy after changing the wipe. "Wanna show us something else little boys do during diaper changes?"

The girls giggled.

"Fold the wipe," Amy instructed her. "Yeah, like that. And use the pointy tip. I think he needs additional wiping behind his little balls: every boy's dirtiest spot after they mess themselves."

Cathy winked at Amy and tickled Jimmy behind his balls, almost instantly making him pee.

"Look at that!" she laughed. "What boy doesn't love peeing during a diaper change?"

"So funny!" Amelie giggled. "Make him do it again."

Cathy touched Jimmy's shriveled sack with the cold wipe, pretending to clean him. The shuddering boy immediately rewarded her with a jet of pee.

"Kicking his legs and peeing," Amy said. "You need to do it on stage, little one."

"Mom! Look!" a 14 year old girl walking through the hall, stopped and pointed at Jimmy. "Did he do it on purpose?"

"Never let your guard down, when changing a boy," her mom replied.

"Why all boys pee during diaper changes?" the girl wondered.

"He probably thought a baby boy's fountain would get him out of cold wiping," Cathy ran the pointy tip of the wipe across Jimmy's balls, watching several convulsive spurts burst out of his throbbing willy, "No, sweetie. Everyone here is used to that. Pee all you want, but your diaper change is not going to stop."

Jimmy blushed deeper seeing another mom with a teenage girl stop by his table. The diaper change was indeed turning into a stage performance.

"Take a q-tip and thoroughly clean his poop hole," Amy instructed Cathy. "Yes, with soap."

"It's so sensitive too," Cathy noticed, running the q-tip over the boy's puckered hole. "Look at him squirm and shake. Oopsy!" She inserted the cotton tip inside and twisted it.

Jimmy felt the sharp tingling, followed by a severe cramp.

"Oh my gosh, I think he's gonna..." Cathy realized, quickly withdrawing the q-tip.

"Poop?" one of the 14 year olds giggled, watching Jimmy produce a load under his butt.

"Showed us everything. Didn't you, Jimmy?" Cathy said with a scornful smile. "Is this diaper change ever gonna end? I need to clean your bum again."

She covered her index finger with a wet wipe and forced it into Jimmy's butt, making the boy nearly jump off the table.

"Good!" Amy nodded. "Change the wipe and do it again. Deeper. Now twist you finger. Left... And right. That'll teach him a lesson. OK, that's enough. Unless you want him to poop more. So what comes next, kitty?"

"Applying the diaper rash cream?" Cathy picked up a blue tube.

"Right. Start with the butt," Amy coached the girl. "Up and down his crack with one finger. Make sure it gets inside too. Good! Now his scrotal sack."

Shuddering at the touch of the cold fingers to his sensitive balls, Jimmy convulsively squirted a stream of pee.

"Hey!" Cathy raised her voice. "Will you ever stop peeing? Now I need to start over."

"So cute when boys do it," one of the 14 year old girls giggled.

"But we don't want it to happen again," Amy said. "Could you make sure he completely emptied his bladder?"

"Just tickle him?" Cathy asked.

"Yeah. Until he pees everything out.

"OK. Coochie-coochie-coo..." Cathy ran her fingers over Jimmy's pink sack. "Look at that fountain!"

Jimmy felt like he was about to faint. He's never been so ticklish before. And this girl seemed to know all his vulnerable spots. But worst of all he had to listen to the giggling and comments from the "audience".

"All done?" Cathy asked the boy.

"Keep tickling him," Amy insisted. "Even if nothing is coming out. No one has ever died of tickle. Gather around, girls. See, how he strains his little twig?"

"Looks like he's trying to pee, but his bladder is empty."

"Exactly. Boys need this kind of stimulation at least twice a day. The dry spasms make the bladder sensitive and keep the tickle reflex sharp... Did I tell you to stop, Cathy? Keep tickling him. And you, little one... Have you enjoyed spurting baby boy fountains today? Promise not to pee when Cathy starts putting cream on your boy parts again?"

Jimmy nodded, desperately trying to escape Cathy's cold fingers.

"I can't hear you!" Amy raised her voice. "Say "I promise to be a good boy and keep still, while Ms.Cathy is wiping my little twig and berries"..."

The quivering boy had to repeat her words. Jimmy would promise anything to stop the tickle torture.

"And you are going to tell her if you need to pee. Understood? You can stop now, Cathy. Go back to applying the cream."

Cathy made the boy endure a few more agonizing minutes, while she put the diaper rash cream on the most ticklish areas between his legs. Jimmy couldn't control the excruciating urge to pee, but nothing came out. He cried, squirmed, and tried to break free, feeling completely helpless. The girl easily held him down with just one hand.

"Let's put a fresh diaper on you before you made another mess," Cathy said finally.

"He's spent too long in a wet diaper," Amy told the girl. "Let's keep him butt-naked for a couple of hours to air the skin."

"Get him into his bed then?"

"Please."

Cathy picked Jimmy up and carried him to his crib. Amy with the girls followed.

"Sweetie, I know that you are used to diapers," the nurse told the embarrassed boy, spreading his legs. "But let's try to depend on them less, OK? Air is good for your sore bottom."

"Can I have a blanket?" Jimmy asked sheepishly. "I'm... cold."

"Don't lie to me. The thermostat is set at 25C. It's like being at the beach... Why don't you imagine lying on one of our beautiful beaches?"

"I want a blanket!" Jimmy insisted on the verge of crying.

"No blankets!" Amy told him firmly. "There are no waterproof ones, you know. Like this absorbent pad under your bum. Nor we can monitor what's going on under blankets. You know what I am talking about. Little boys playing with their willies."

The girls giggled.

"Now, the only way to prevent it is to restrain their arms."

Amy raised both of Jimmy's arms above his head and secured his wrists to the crib bars with special velcro straps.

"It will also make him stay on his back." she explained to her girls. "So he won't rub his little pickle against the mattress."

Jimmy didn't know what she was talking about, though it was obvious she was making fun of him. Could anyone humiliate him more at this point? To be made to lie on your back naked from the waist down without a blanket, with every passer by gazing at your willy? It couldn't possibly get any worse, but Amy produced another pair of velcro straps.

"And to make sure his bum gets enough air, let's put his legs in the proper position," she told the girls.

She raised and spread Jimmy's legs, tying them to the crib rails. Jimmy couldn't believe it was happening to him. He was essentially put in a relaxed diapering position with his butt hole and boy package on full display.

"See?" Amy pointed at Jimmy's crotch. "If... I mean when he pees again, it is going to land on the pad under his bum instead of his legs."

"Great position," Cathy agreed.

"We alternate diaper time with butt airing," Amy explained to the girls. "His mom will need to do the same at home. No blankets there either. One night in a diaper, typically tightly swaddled. Followed by two nights like this: spread like a frog. We are blessed with such a great climate. So little kids don't need pajamas. Or blankets."

The nurse turned back to Jimmy.

"You need to promise me something, sweetie-pie. Every time you want to go pee-pee or poo-poo, you are to call the nurse... Any nurse. If it's just number one, she'll bring a potty and place it under your boy's fountain. If it's number two, she'll put a disposable diaper under your bum, so you can poop in it. Do we have a deal?"

Jimmy nodded.

"Good!" Amy smiled. "Because if any of our nurses discovers that you peed or pooped on the pad without telling anyone, she'll have to make sure you expel everything you have inside you. You already know how we do it. Believe me, the pee fountains you just showed us on the changing table, are nothing compared to a skilled nurse draining your bladder by tickling sensitive spots between your legs.

A good pediatric nurse, and I only accept the best in my unit, can turn you inside out. You didn't enjoy Cathy applying the moisturizing cream on your precious marbles, did you? Tickled you pretty bad, huh? You are going to wish for her little fingers working your balls instead of the nurse's. And that, sweetheart, is just the beginning. Because you'll still be cleaned with very cold baby wipes, followed by thorough creaming, which'd probably result in more pee fountains for a ticklish boy like you. So it's in your best interests to call the nurse at the first sign of a pee or poo tingle."

"Don't you have like special buttons to call the nurse?" Amelie wondered.

"Not in infant and toddler units, dear. They'd think it's a toy. Besides, it's better to get them used to loudly asking adults for a potty."

"Doubt a shy boy like him would call anyone," Tess shrug her shoulders. "He'll try to hold it."

"Corrected boys can't for longer than 30 seconds," Amy explained. "Plus we make them drink plenty of fluids: milk, juice, water. He'll be wetting every 15-20 minutes. Number two is even easier: generous feedings of fiber-rich oatmeal laced with mild laxative and stool softener. In any case, if some stubborn kid manages to resist the urination and defecation urges, we have a strict schedule for both. Ready or not, his bladder and bowels will be thoroughly drained by the scrotal and anal stimulations."

Amy motioned the trainee girls to follow her. The group slowly walked between the two rows of metal cribs, admiring butt-naked boys made to lie on their backs with the raised and spread legs. Amy briefly described every patient, stopping to watch how the red-faced kid peed and pooped right in front of them. Followed by the thorough wiping and creaming of his ticklish boy bits, which repeatedly caused him to lose control and pee again.

Diapered boys were just as entertaining: watching them struggle with the urge, then give up and fill the diaper. All diapered patients over the age of four were required to call the nurse and loudly announce what they did every time they wet or messed them. After that the boy had to ask for a diaper change using the same babyish terms.

It was up to the nurse to change him immediately or make him lie in a wet and messy diaper. Even forced to endure half an hour or more in a cold wet diaper, no boy looked forward to being laid on the changing table and tickled with cold wipes and fingers, causing involuntary peeing and sometimes pooping.

The elaborate torment Amy and her nurses subjected their little patients to had a profound effect on the trainee girls. By the time the group was approaching the end of the hall, all of them were visibly aroused: wet and desperate to rub their aching slits to relieve the pressure building over the last two hours. The youngest one: little Becky, a cute 16 year old "ginger" almost lost it watching Amy punish one of the boys for failing to report wetting his diaper.

Hospital punishments varied depending on each nurse personal preferences. Amy favored anal stimulators: flexible sticks with four large balls, generously lubricated with the special stinging soap. A simple, but cruel device quickly caused the excruciating defecation urge. Amy took her time, working the balls in and out of the poor kid's poop hole. All while smiling, making jokes, and pointing out little tricks to increase the boy's discomfort.

Amy immensely enjoyed his screaming, muted by a pacifier gag. She was aroused by the boy's trembling, squirming, kicking, and futile attempts to free himself from her expert hold. While she calmly explained, how to effortlessly keep even an older kid on his back in the helpless diapering position: with his vulnerable bum hole and boy parts completely exposed to her fingers and tools.

When she finally allowed the boy's bottom to erupt, followed by more condescending comments, she typically wiped his butt and proceeded with the merciless tickling of the boy's shriveled sack: teaching her girls the most effective tickling techniques: with fingers, feathers, and several kinds of brushes: the art of driving the boy insane with unbearable tickle, while keeping him from fainting.

"And that's how you properly "drain" a little boy", she summarized with a smile, securing a shaking nine year old in his crib. "Questions?"

Amy spread the boy's legs further by adjusting the ankle straps, and admired his wide open butt. She couldn't resist the temptation to poke his puckered hole and caress the pink sack one last time. The boy shuddered and squirted several drops of pee out of his willy, still pointed straight up - the result of prolonged anal stimulation.

"See how sensitive he's become?" Amy told her girls. "Peed from a single touch to his little marbles. Tickling makes boys more ticklish. But most importantly, several minutes of powerful bladder and bowel spasms weaken both sphincters..."

"The valves that hold the pee and poop," Tess told Becky, seeing her confusion. "Do you remember anything from the school anatomy course?"

"Yes, those valves," Amy nodded. "Non-stop spasms weaken them to the point of turning the boy into a six months old. He won't be able to hold his urine or stool for longer than five seconds now."

"Isn't it the main goal of the spinal correction?"

"Kind of. The correction establishes the base sensitivity threshold. Anything more than that is achieved by forcing the boy to strain his bladder and bowel muscles. Compared to the permanent correction of both urges, the residual effect of the thorough "draining" only lasts a few hours. It's really up to you, as the boy's caretaker, to keep him in such infant's state. Some moms do. All pediatrician offices offer special body waste draining "massages". Similar to what I just showed you. Only three times longer and using mechanical and electric stimulators in addition to our simple tools.

By the way, I am certified to administer such treatment too. I may show you this week. I'll ask one of the doctors to prescribe it to a couple of our patients. We have a special soundproof room here with all the equipment."

"Soundproof?"

"Yeah. You have no idea how loud the screaming gets. Even after you gag the little one with a pacifier. They squeal like pigs."

"That bad..." sighed Emma.

"For them? Definitely," Amy chuckled. "But you... are sure gonna enjoy watching an older boy professionally drained of the body waste. It's typically prescribed to elementary school age kids. Toddlers never exhibit any stubbornness holding their pee or poop. If some do, it's easy to correct without electric stimulation.

Older boys though are very shy to use the potty when someone's watching. To help them with that, their bladder and bowel control needs to be adjusted once in a while. Pediatric nurses time the child's reflexes during regular checkups, when they make him pee in the cup for the urine sample. If the boy resists the tickling stimulation and holds his pee longer, than his age norm, e.g. five seconds for an eight year old, He is prescribed the draining therapy. Typically three times a week for a month or two. The same if he doesn't immediately defecate after the rectal temperature taking. You've seen the rectal thermometers we use."

"If one doesn't poop after that, he's definitely constipated!" Cathy laughed.

"What if he pees before the nurse even touches his ticklish balls?" Amelie asked.

"I was wondering about that too," Emma said. "Every boy would start obediently peeing in the cup after learning how unpleasant that draining therapy is. How would you accurately gauge his reaction to tickle, if he doesn't resist?"

"There are many tricks to make a boy resist," Amy explained. "Using his natural shyness. E.g. placing the changing table he is examined on by the window. All pediatric offices on the island are on the first floor. And as all of you have probably noticed, there are no private exam rooms. Just several changing tables to examine the patients on. With other boys' moms and older sisters watching. Second, the nurses are rotated. The office admin makes sure to assign the boy a new nurse every time his mom schedules a checkup, which all boys under the age of 11 are required to take every two weeks."

"I see," Cathy said. "He'd be embarrassed more, since the new nurse hasn't seen him naked."

"Right. As a future pediatric nurse, each of you needs to learn to keep the boy in the constant state of shame. I am sure, you practiced it when you babysat older boys. Believe me, it's not that hard to make peeing in the cup extremely embarrassing for the boy, so most will resist as much, as they can.

The few "good boys", who pee instantly upon being shown the cup... Every nurse hates that. So, first she'd subject him to a prolonged tickling anyway. And second, the doctor will always prescribe the draining therapy in that case.

There are all kinds of other reasons it's prescribed. Daycares have their own standards. They typically insist on increasing school age boys sensitivity to the maximum. Makes it easier for them to control their kids potty business regardless of age."

"But it also causes wet and messy accidents more often, doesn't it?"

"They are used to it. A very convenient way of putting an older boy in his place, if he complains about being in a daycare with toddlers. Plus they lay everyone on a changing table every 30 minutes or so."

"To pee in the legs-up position?"

"Yep. No potties at daycares. They don't have the patience to sit an older kid on the potty and wait for him to do his business. Everyone there pees and poop like a six month old: on his back with the legs up in the air. A lot faster to tickle a boy to pee, than to stand him before the potty and solicit his tinkle with gentle talk. Moms love doing it. Not daycare workers. Or hospital nurses.

And not all moms are patient either. If one complains to the pediatrician about her son being stubborn, it almost always results in the draining therapy prescription.

Finally, that unpleasant therapy is very effective to reinforce good behavior and the image of female superiority. Do you know how much even ten year olds fear "draining nurses"? Many pee their pants by seeing one when she comes to the boy's apartment."

"They make house calls too?"

"Yep. It's up to the mom, whether to take her son to the pediatric clinic to see the nurse licensed to provide the draining treatment. Or arrange for house visits."

"So what happens when the boy pees himself before she starts the session? Not much to drain, huh?"

"She may fill his bladder with a catheter. Though draining the kid of his pee and poop is not really the point. Using intense stimulation to cause the bowel cramps and bladder contractions is. The nurses task's is to make the boy experience the extreme urination and defecation urges for 30 minutes. Whether his body has enough nasty substances to expel is irrelevant.

And believe me, a boy's bladder is never completely empty. Try it and see for yourself." Amy pointed at the nine year old she just punished. "Come on. I know, every one of you is dying to check his sensitivity."

"May I?" Emma asked.

"Of course."

The girl reached behind the boy's pink sack, instantly making him pee.

"Wow! I just touched him behind his balls."

"A very convenient position, isn't it?" Amy nodded at the boy tied to the bed rails. "Everything on display."

"I can touch him anywhere," Emma giggled. "How about another squirt, sweetie?"

"Hey!" Becky said. "I wanna check his peeing reflexes too."

"Have at it!" Emma smirked. "Hope you don't get any pee on you."

Amy has been watching little Becky for a while. The girl could barely control her arousal. "Good thing she's not rubbing herself" Amy thought. She remembered how it was for her at 16. She orgasmed more than ten times a day babysitting boys.

Becky approached the crib and stroked the back of the boy's balls, instantly rewarded by a stream of pee. She giggled and started tickling the boy again, making him squirt yellow drops. Amy watched Becky's freckled face, full of tell-tale signs of the approaching orgasm: rapid breath, pinkish tip of the cute button nose, widened eyes... There we go... Little Becky "scratched" her groin and let out a faint sigh.

"Enjoying helping boys pee a little too much, Becky?" Cathy giggled.

"Who...wouldn't?" Becky struggled to catch her breath. "Wanna try?"

She let Cathy take her place.

"Alright, girls, if you'll excuse me..." Amy said, fighting the unbearable tingling in her crotch.

What a day. First all of the little boys in her care: the cutest group of patients ever. Then this ginger 16 year old, she had a secret crush on since she saw her. No one would have allowed an eleventh-grader in a pediatric nursing volunteer program, if Amy didn't pull some strings. And now her big-eyed kitty climaxed right in front of her and other girls, who sure took notice. Hopefully the boy didn't suspect anything. They can't see girls like that. All women need to project the image of strength and superiority.

"We're basically finished here," Amy told the girls. "You are welcome to stay and play with him. Try to get him to do number two as well. In any case, it's almost lunch break. I'll see you in my office. Say, about 13:30? Great job, everyone! Enjoy caring for my little patients. And you, kitty nose, come with me."

Amy motioned Becky to come.

"Anything wrong, Miss Amy?" Becky asked, visibly shaken.

She already knew what the feared nurse wanted to talk with her about.

"Nothing, dear. I am going to the restroom. Want me to show you where it is? I think you need to visit it too."

Becky blushed. Amy obviously knew why.

"For heaven's sake!" Amy chuckled. "It's them..." she pointed at boys' cribs. "Not you, we want to blush here. Let's go!"

She took Becky's hand and both walked out of the hall.

"There is nothing to be ashamed of, sweetie," Amy told the girl. "I know what you feel. You love caring for little boys: wiping their butts, tickling their balls to make them pee..." Amy was doing her best to arouse the girl again, caressing Becky's hand. "Am I right, kitten?"

Amy fondled the girl's cheek. It was working. She knew just the right combination of words and touch.

"I love boys, Miss Amy. Especially older ones."

"Like from six up?" Amy asked, "accidentally" brushing the girl's ear with her fingers, then sliding lower, to the girl's neck. "Because older boys are shy and get embarrassed when you look at them naked?"

"Y-yes. It's so cute, when they blush."

"I know, sweetie-pie. All of us love to admire shy naked boys. You wouldn't want to be a pediatric nurse, if you didn't like seeing them naked so much."

The girl closed her eyes, allowing Amy to caress her neck.

"But you need to control yourself around them!"

Becky suddenly exhaled, staring at Amy with wide open eyes. Years of experience taught Amy to keep the straight face.

"I saw what happened when you touched that boy's jewels. It's perfectly natural. Nothing to be ashamed of. But... No boy can see you like that. Do you understand why?"

"Yes, Miss Amy."

"Tell me!"

"Because I am a... motherly figure?"

"Right. Be the authority figure all girls are born to be. Governing mischievous little boys. They can't know our weaknesses."

"It was... an accident. I am sorry."

"Accidents happen, sweetie. Are you at least wearing a pad?"

"Of course."

"Good! And for all future "accidents"... Let me show you the perfect place to have them."

"The restroom?" Becky wondered, blushing again. "You... do it in there too?"

"Geez, girl. Everyone does. Better behind the closed door, than in front of the patient. Come on. We have a "special restroom" here for girls like you."

She winked at Becky and opened the door she stood next to. It was an immaculately styled ladies room.

A nurse washing her hands welcomed Amy with a wink. A young woman: one of the visiting moms gave them a nod. Her smile showed, she knew why the two came in.

"Showing my today's trainees around," Amy said casually. "Alright, let's grab a couple of fresh pads first. Here we go. And now... which room is free? This one. Perfect. Go in."

Becky stepped into what she thought would be a restroom stall. It was: three times more spacious. It did have a toilet. And a bidet. Won't find these in a regular bathroom. But the biggest surprise... Becky gasped, when Amy pressed a button, which quickly rolled up the curtain, exposing a window into a room full of changing tables with naked little boys on them.

"Our treatment room," she explained to Becky. "For enemas, bathing, and other.... fun things.

"They can't see us, can they?" Becky whispered.

"Nope. Or hear. But anyone who's been in this... "restroom"... Obviously all of my nurses have, most of the moms as well... They know, that someone is watching. Only the boys don't. Come closer. You are free to stay here, as long, as you want. Well, until 13:30, remember?"

"Oh my gosh, I didn't know boys can pee that high!" Becky giggled, watching one of the nurses.

"You have a lot to learn, kitten. Now, let's change your pad, before you started leaking, shall we?"

"I... can do it myself." Becky blushed again.

"Nonsense! I need to change mine too. Both of us can do it here. Ain't nothing we girls haven't seen before. Come on, don't be shy."

Amy removed her pants and put them on a chair.

"Your turn, little girl."

"I dunno. I'll go to another... stall."

"Kitten, I am sure they are all occupied. It's lunch break for the half of our staff. And if one is free, it'd be really nice to leave it for our patients moms, wouldn't it?"

Becky's eyes widened, seeing Amy lowering her panties, revealing the perfect hairless pussy. The island had an unofficial standard of neatness down there. All arriving girls and women had their pubic hair permanently removed during their first complementary visit to one of the luxurious spas.

The girl expected the nurse to change her pad and pull the panties back up, but Amy casually took them off.

"What?" she smiled, watching Becky's reaction, after she removed her nurse scrub top, standing in front of the girl in just her bra. "Never seen a naked girl before?"

She unfastened the bra letting free two perky breasts. "Why she even needs a bra?" Becky thought. "And why..." she already knew the Head Nurse didn't bring her here to enjoy masturbating alone. All of the rumors, that Amy loved younger girls... Or everyone was hitting on her? Who'd resist such beauty? And who else a girl should love? Men? Eeew!

"Kitty, I think you came here to see something else," Amy pointed at the window. "The kind of view best enjoyed naked, don't you think? Get out of the scrubs. Let your skin breath. It'd be a crime to just change your pad and leave. So much is happening on the other side. Let's watch together. Just watch..." she softly whispered into Becky's ear, rubbing her nipples over the girl's back. "Don't mind me at all. Why don't you pick a table and describe what's going on for me? How about this one: right in front of you? How old is the boy lying there? Nine?"

"Yeah, about nine."

Amy put her fingers inside Becky's pants making sure to grab the panties as well.

"Don't mind me. I'm just helping you change your pad. So you don't need to do it yourself, because you'd miss a lot of action in that room. OK, kitten?"

"OK," Amy smiled, feeling her pants and underwear pulled down.

She didn't have much of a choice, feeling frightened and excited at the same time. She's only been with a girl once. Fun, but nothing out of this world. Both were equally inexperienced. But to do it with a feared celebrity like Nurse Amy... Who had just as many legend about her kinky ways of pleasing girls, as she was infamous for torturing little boys.

"What a pretty round bum you have," Amy smiled, caressing Becky's globes. "Let's get out of these pants. Here we go. Spread your legs a little, dear. And keep telling me what you see. What the nurse is doing to the boy?"

"Preparing him for his bath."

"What makes you say that? Arms up!" Amy quickly removed Becky's top and without losing a second unbuttoned the girl's bra. "Off it goes. Oh my! Nice little titties. Are your nipples always that hard? Only when looking at naked little boys, right?"

Amy leaned into the girl's back, pinching and caressing Becky's nipples. The girl let out a soft groan.

"Now we can fully enjoy the view, my button nose kitty. A lot better without clothes."

"Y-yes."

"So tell me what you see. Why the nurse is preparing that boy for his bath?"

"Because she left him completely naked."

"But where is the bath?" Amy hugged the girl with her left arm, resting her hand on Becky's right breast, while sliding the other one between the girl's legs.

"I d-d-d-d..." Becky quivered, feeling the nurse's finger find her aching slit. "Oh my gosh... dunno. Maybe she'll bath him in one of those basins."

"Right. That's how we bath older boys. You wouldn't mind a bath right now yourself, would you? So wet."

Another nurse came to the one bent over a naked boy, and whispered something in her ear. Becky recalled seeing her in the "special restroom" earlier. No, she wouldn't... The first nurse looked up: right at Becky, and winked.

"You said they can't see us!"

"Relax. They can't. But now they know who's watching. She'll make sure you see a lot of action. If you were tending to that boy, and knew one of your friends is on the other side, wouldn't you show her something special?"

She was right. The nurse repositioned the boy on the changing table, making him present his little package to Amy and Becky.

"Is she going to raise his legs and tickle him to pee?" Becky wondered.

"She already did: made him thoroughly pee and poop before his bath. But believe me, no matter how hard you try, boys always pee in the tub. Well, if you wash them with your bare hands."

"How else? With a sponge? One can only wash boy's delicate little things with her fingers."

"Absolutely agree. But it also means the moment you start lathering up one's ticklish little balls, he's going to strain his pickle and spring a fountain. I am not even talking about washing his little worm with soap. Especially under the hoodie."

"Is she going to pull down his... skin? I've never seen it done to a boy before."

"Really?"

"Nope. I've never baby-sat such a big boy. My oldest was five. Tried to open his willy when I bathed him, but couldn't. Made him pee though - by rubbing its tip with a soapy finger."

"Oh, this one will pee for us too. Michelle is going to make sure of that. She's also going to make him poop - by cleaning his bum with a soapy finger. You know that you can always make a boy do that by being a little... thorough?"

Becky giggled, as Amy was rubbing the little button at the top of her pussy, periodically dipping the finger inside to get it wet. The girl never felt so good. She completely relaxed letting Amy set the pace.

"We are in for a treat. She is going to show us how to use the boy's sensitivity to make certain things happen."

"What things?" Becky couldn't continue, as the excruciating orgasm swept over her.

"Things... You'll see. Would you let go of my hand now? You almost crushed it with your thighs."

"Sorry. Did I scream too loud?"

"Don't worry about it. Did you feel good? That's all that matters. Relax and enjoy. Here we go."

Amy started to masturbate Becky again, a little harder this time. It took the nurse almost five minutes to bring the girl to the second orgasm, which happened when they watched the nurse rubbing the exposed nub of the boy's willy. The boy resisted so much, Michelle had to call another nurse to hold him.

"How about we switched places, kitten?" Amy whispered into the girl's year.

The girl took a cue. It was her turn to please her boss.

"In!" guided her finger Amy. "And the middle finger ri-ight here. You know where the little girl's button is, don't you? Ohhhhh... of course you do. Don't stop!"

It took Amy only a few seconds to come, watching Michelle repeatedly inserting her soapy finger in the boy's poop hole.

"Did you..." Becky asked with a surprised look.

"Yes, kitten. Thank you!" Amy turned around and passionately kissed the girl.

Amy and Becky quickly dressed and left the "special restroom". Amy felt so relaxed, she didn't care about tickling and fingering little boys... for another hour or so. She walked by Jimmy's bed, noting a couple of her nurses tending to him. She knew her entire staff would be thinking up excuses to have fun with a super cute eight year old.

Having survived that "fun" for 24 hours, Jimmy finally saw his mom, ready to take him home.

"Amy Wilson," the nurse greeted Laura by Jimmy's bed. "The Head Nurse of this unit. We ran a few tests. Everything came out normal. Nothing's wrong with your son physically. He's just too stubborn to use the potty."

Jimmy knew better, than to argue with her lies. It was the nurses who made him wear diapers.

"Look how wet he is now," Amy sighed. "Soaked his diaper again. He was doing it non-stop yesterday. Messed himself too. Here's his wetting and bowel movement chart. We keep track of those things."

Jimmy felt the hot wave sweep over his face.

"We have a lot to talk about, honey," his mom told him, acting concerned. "I though I potty trained you at the age of three. Well, if you prefer diapers..."

"I wouldn't diaper him at home. You'd never get him to use the potty. Start with part-time elimination communication using every opportunity... also known as "pottytunity"... to make him do his little boy's business. Diaper changes, baths, taking his temperature, undressing him at the beach... pretty much every time you remove his pants. Once you establish the urination and defecation schedule, you can move to the next stage: teaching him to ask for the potty."

"You are right. No comfy diapers. Come on, Jimmy. Let's get you changed. Hope you won't pee your pants on the way home."

Laura looked around.

"Can I change him on this table?" she asked the nurse.

"You don't need to do it. In fact you are not allowed to here. Only the nurses can. And as for wetting his pants, let's make sure he thoroughly does his little boy's business before the trip. Both number one and number two."

"Thank you."

"No problem. Let me show you a few tricks, that'll make your life easier." Amy picked up Jimmy and carried him to the closest changing table. "First, always make sure he empties his bladder when you change him. And if you have time, induce a bowel movement as well. It's easy to get a boy his age to do his potty business, if you know the right technique."

Amy unfastened and opened Jimmy's diaper.

"No poopies? Good boy! Though you should have had a bowel movement by now. We'll take care of that shortly." Amy raised Jimmy's legs and pulled the wet diaper off of his butt. "Let me wipe you first, and then you can make pee-pees and poopies for your mommy. Can't wait to show her, huh? Aww, aren't little boys cuter, when they blush? Yes, sweetie, right here, on the changing table. So you won't wet or mess your pants on your way home."

She took a baby wipe and quickly ran it over Jimmy's crotch. "Must be cold," Laura thought, watching her son's uncomfortable squirming. She touched the box of wipes. It indeed felt like an ice brick. Did they keep it in the fridge?

Laura experimented with cold wipes when Jimmy was little, keeping the box by the window. It chilled overnight, especially during the cold months. Jimmy hated cold diaper changes. A sure way to speed up potty training per one of her friends advice.

"Do you keep your wipes in the fridge?" Laura asked cautiously, after Jimmy's shriek when the nurse started wiping his balls.

"We do. I suggest you keep them in the fridge too. Boys like him shouldn't be too comfortable on the changing table. An eight year old should know better than wetting and messing himself. Even wearing a diaper."

Jimmy squirmed and kicked, desperately trying to break free. He could barely endure the cold wiping.

"Goes without saying, never stand in front of the boy changing him. Especially when you use cold wipes," the nurse told Laura. "A strained weenie like this means only one thing..."

The nurse folded her wipe and used its pointy corner to tickle the boy's pink sack, resulting in an instant burst of pee out of his throbbing willy. Laura gasped. She had never seen her son or another boy pee so fiercely.

"I wanted you to do it after I wiped your boy parts, but it's OK, little one. Couldn't wait to impress your mom, could you?" Amy told Jimmy with a condescending smile before turning to his mom. "A mess during a change should be your cue to make sure he emptied his bladder. Thankfully getting a boy to pee is extremely easy. Just tickle his little marbles... Here we go! Look at that fountain! Keep going... Good boy!"

Amy kept stroking the boy's sack with her cold fingers, making him squirt one spurt of pee after another.

"The back of the scrotum is very sensitive," she explained. "You can also run two fingertips over both testicles. See? The sides are ticklish too. And of course the spot behind his boy's sack: between the scrotum and the anus. Coochie-coochie-coo... That was dry tickling. You can also use soap. Let's thoroughly wash his little jewels. Wanna pee some more for mommy? Yes, that's what I'm talking about! Good boy!"

"He seems to pee everything out," Laura noted. She was excited, but also found it increasingly difficult to watch the nurse expertly torture her shuddering son.

"Boys never do," Amy chuckled, making Jimmy squirt again. "Always keep stimulating the urge for a couple of minutes after he seemed to stop peeing. The dry contractions weaken the bladder, making the child a lot more compliant when it comes to potty business. It'll be much easier for you to make him pee in the potty next time."

The nurse stopped tickling Jimmy, letting him catch his breath.

"Simple, isn't it?" she told his mom. "Boys his age cannot endure tickle for longer than five seconds. Just the matter of knowing the right spots. Now, sweetie, didn't you also want to show your mommy, how little boys make poopies?"

"Are you gonna take his temperature?"

"You've already seen our pediatric thermometers in action. I am gonna show you something new today. There are other tools to treat little boys' constipation. Like this one."

She produced a thin plastic stick with four balls.

"They come in different sizes. This one looks about right for an eight year old."

"You sure?" The "right size" seemed awfully large to Laura.

She watched the nurse cover the plastic stick with a generous amount of liquid soap, curious how Jimmy takes the ominous device, "innovative" rectal thermometers paled in comparison with.

"Don't worry. His cute puckered hole would happily gobble it," the nurse smiled. "Especially lubricated with soap. This one works best: a special gel, that irritates the bowels causing strong cramps."

Amy pressed the stick against Jimmy's butt hole.

"Don't be afraid to force it in," she continued. "He sure won't enjoy it, but he can do absolutely nothing in this position to prevent objects entering his little hole. See?" Amy pushed the first ball into Jimmy's butt, making the boy flinch. "He can't clench his butt at all lying on his back like this: with the legs raised to his chest and slightly spread apart.

Resisting the insertion only makes it more painful. Are you trying to poop already, sweetheart? Of course you do.

When he acts like that, you should teach him to take all balls in without a fuss. Let him push the stimulator out and immediately reinsert it. Here we go. It is the moment of penetration they hate the most. Are you crying because you wanted to poop for mommy and I didn't let you? You are gonna do it soon, I promise... Withdraw and insert it several times, until he learns to keep it in his bum. In... And out... And again. See? He stopped pushing it out. Good boy!

Now let's push the second ball in. I know, baby, I know. No one likes it. But it will help you poop, and your tummy will feel better."

Jimmy's tummy felt perfectly fine. He couldn't get the nurse's obsession with making him do his potty business on the changing table. Hopefully his mom was not going to practice those extremely unpleasant, let alone embarrassing treatments at home.

Or was she? Why she didn't stop this mean nurse from torturing him? And worse, is closely listening and even asking questions. It was pointless to argue with nurses here, as every one of them looked at him, like a mindless toddler. But his mommy would listen. He wouldn't need to convince her that his tummy is healthy.

Little did he know, no one, not even his mom, cared about his health, subjecting him to unpleasant and humiliating treatments solely for the caretaker's amusement.

"There is another, gentler technique," the nurse continued, having quickly withdrawn the stick.

Laura smiled, seeing the first two balls covered with poop. She didn't mind, thinking along "your own kid's poop never stinks" lines. In fact it didn't smell at all. She recalled Dr.Larsen mention the special food additives to kill the smell. Laura wasn't a fecal freak. She was a good mom. Just like Amy was a good pediatric nurse used to messy diapers. One thing the two women had in common, was being aroused: not by pee or fecal matter, but the innocent and quite funny acts of uncontrollable toddler urination and defecation.

"This stick is also suitable for punishments," Amy winked slyly. "Though you may consider a special one designed just for that: with a slightly larger balls covered with bumps. Best used with the special stinging soap."

Laura smiled with delight. She knew Jimmy would provide plenty of opportunities for creative punishments with anal sticks and other tools she was anxious to try. A lot more effective than old-fashioned spanking. She felt the familiar wetness in her panties. Making Jimmy behave has never looked so sweet.

"I am sure he's going to be a good boy after he gets acquainted with tools like this one" Amy smiled sarcastically. "Invaluable for every mom... And, by the way, his good behavior shouldn't keep you from enjoying certain things, when you are in the mood to treat his constipation or have other fun..."

Amy winked at Laura.

"So when he's been a good boy and you want to be gentle inserting these rather large balls into his rather small hole," the nurse continued. "You need to make him relax his anus for you. Which you need both of your hands for. Have someone hold his legs up. Or secure them with a special strap."

The nurse opened the table drawer and took out a leather strap.

"Run it under his back," she showed to Laura. "Now wrap these around his legs: right under the knee... And tighten. See, how it made him spread his legs? And if you want to secure his arms as well... See these velcro straps? In it goes. And the left arm... Let's tighten everything up... All set. Isn't he a sweetheart? Nicely parted his buns to present his little hole."

Amy took a moment to admire the naked eight year old boy.

"You can buy it at any drugstore," she continued. "Comes very handy. He can kick and squirm a little, but he'll keep everything between his legs open and accessible to your fingers."

"So that position makes him relax his bottom?"

"Tickle does," Amy wiped the boy's hole and ran her index finger over it. "Did you know, that the anus is very ticklish too? So sensitive. Look at it pulsing with every touch. Just wait for the right moment, when he opens it. Here we go!" she effortlessly slid the plastic stick all the way in. "Nice and easy... There are other ways as well."

Amy withdrew the stick. The repeated insertions and withdrawals started to take effect on Jimmy's weakened bowels. Not to mention the stinging soap the stick was lubricated with. He was unsure how long he'd be able to hold the growing urge to poop.

"It doesn't really matter what to tickle," Amy said. "Try his other ticklish spots. Like these little marbles. Tickle-tickle-tickle... Oops! Decided to squirt some more from your willy? Don't mind him peeing. Keep tickling him until his whole body starts to shake. Which means he opened his hole for us again... And in it goes. The first ball. Now the second. And the third... One more sweetie. Here we go. Now let's work your poopie hole a little, shall we? Let him push the stimulator out... Not so fast, sweetheart..."

Amy stopped the stick.

"Pull the ball out halfway," she explained to Laura, "And hold it for a moment to stretch his little hole... Then let him push it out completely. Now the next one. Nuh-uh! The last ball stays in. Let's just add liquid soap. Here we go. All in again."

The nurse's ministrations hurt so bad, Jimmy broke out in tears. It felt like pooping soap bars over and over.

"So cute when they kick their legs?" Amy smiled, increasing her pace. "Aww, poor baby. Let me cheer you up. Coochie-coochie-coo!" she tickled the boy's sack until a yellow fountain erupted out of his jerking willy. "Feel better? Let's continue... Pushing the balls in fast and taking them out slow. All, except for the last one..."

Amy poured more soap on her torture device.

"Always take your time," she told Jimmy's mom. "It's really up to you how long to stimulate him with this stick. I'd say two-four minutes for a boy his age. Works wonders on stubborn boys' poop holes by stretching them and making the rectum super-sensitive. So the next time you want him to do number two: in his potty or like this, in the diapering position, just touch his anus, and he'll instantly poop."

"Aaah! It hurts!" Jimmy cried. "Please... take it out. I wanna poo!"

"Hush, little one!" Amy smiled. "The adults are talking."

"Why don't you let him poop?" Laura asked, trying to remain calm.

"What makes you think he will? He didn't tell us anything. Do you wanna make poopies, honey?"

Jimmy nodded.

"I can't hear you!"

"Y-yes."

"Yes, what? Tell your mommy you want to show her how you make poopies. Yes, those exact words. Dear mommy, let me show you how I make poopies."

Laura hated the mean nurse as much, as her son did, but she couldn't help admiring her expert humiliation skills.

"We're waiting..." Amy reminded Jimmy, working the stick faster. "Mommy... let me show you..."

"Mommy, let me show you..." the boy repeated with his face aflame.

"How little boys make poopies."

Jimmy blushed a brighter shade of red and repeated the embarrassing words.

"Well, let's see it then!" the nurse withdrew the stick, instantly making Jimmy poop a big load onto the diaper cloth under his butt.

"Holy crap!" Laura gasped.

"Literally!" Amy giggled. "You think this is it? Let me show you another handy tool. Now that the ball stick made his anus sensitive, a single touch can make him poop. How about cleaning his little hole with a toothbrush?"

Amy produced a toothbrush and ran it over the puckered Jimmy's poop hole.

"Oh my gosh!" Laura said, watching her son convulsively poop again. "You were right."

"Let's try an electric one now," the nurse continued. "These vibrating ones work best."

She turned on the toothbrush and touched Jimmy's anal opening with it. The boy's body jolted and he immediately increased the load under his butt.

"Look at him kick his legs," the nurse told Laura. "I think I told you already: boys' anuses are as ticklish, as their balls. By the way you can use this toothbrush on his scrotum too, you know."

Amy moved the buzzing toothbrush up, sending convulsions through Jimmy's body.

"Showing off your peeing skills again?" she teased the shaking boy. "How about we clean another dirty hole of yours: the one you pee from?"

She expertly pulled back the boy's foreskin and touched the exposed tip of his willy with her finger, making Jimmy shudder a let out a burst of pee.

"Always open his little hood and clean under it, when you can use both of your hands," Amy explained to Laura.

Amy poured soap in her fingers and started to lather up the pointy tip of Jimmy's willy, using her other hand to keep it open. The boy's shudder turned into seizure-like convulsions, making the whole table shake.

"I know, sweetie. Little boys' pee-pees are very sensitive," the nurse smiled, enjoying Jimmy's suffering. "I am almost done. Could you stop kicking your legs please? And peeing is not going to get you out of having your little buddy's head thoroughly washed with soap."

The nurse glanced at Laura, gauging her reaction. No mom ever questioned her cruel methods. Amy knew every one of them secretly wanted to test the limits of their sons endurance too.

"Boys hate being washed like this," Amy told Laura. "But he needs to learn to keep still when you change him. So if he gives you any trouble on the changing table, you can also clean his nub with a toothbrush."

She picked a different electric toothbrush and ran it over the boy's tiny nub. Laura gasped in shock watching her son frantically kick his legs and shake the changing table with his wildly bucking body. His convulsive peeing was no doubt painful too. "Who hires such sadists?" she thought. She tried to open her son's pee-pee and wash it during one of his baths, but Jimmy cried and resisted so much, she had to stop. She never did it again, afraid to hurt him, since he complained about stinging when he peed in the potty after his bath. She could only imagine what a vibrating toothbrush felt like.

"Slowly slide it up and down over the top of his nub," Amy explained, "It instantly makes boys pee. Aww, poor baby... Why don't we clean your tiny pee slit too?"

Amy pressed the buzzing brush into the hole at the tip of the boy's willy.

"That'll teach him to keep still next time you clean his his little worm."

The nurse felt wetness between her legs. She typically enjoyed torturing boys with an electric toothbrush for a bit longer, but she already got enough angry stares from Jimmy's mom to push her luck. How would she explain a patient's fainting to his mom?

Amy quickly wiped the boy's willy and returned the foreskin to its normal position, proceeding to demonstrate feathers, brushes, and other tickling tools on his balls.

"Alright. The fun is over!" she said after a couple of minutes, replacing the wet and dirty diaper cloth under Jimmy's bottom with a new one. "Let's wipe you again and apply the diaper rash cream."

She quickly and efficiently wiped Jimmy's bottom and picked up a q-tip.

"Always clean him inside too," Amy said, pouring a drop of liquid soap onto the cotton tip. "Sweetheart, you need to open your little hiney for me... It is important to teach him to keep his bum open, when you are cleaning it. Let's do a fun little exercise. Open your bottom, honey. I am talking about your poop hole. Just relax and pretend you are pooping... Not gonna do it for me?"

The nurse inserted a soap stick into Jimmy's bottom, pushing it deep with her finger.

"How about now? Do you like soap in your bum? I don't think so. Let's try again. Relax your hole..." she massaged the puckered hole with one finger. "Here we go. Now try to keep it open like this. Good boy! Imagine yourself sitting on the potty, waiting for the poopies to come out."

Amy took a q-tip and poured a drop of liquid soap on it.

"Gently trace the inside of his hole," she explained to Laura, touching Jimmy's butt hole.

The boy flinched and puckered it.

"What did I tell you?" Amy gave him a stern look. "To keep your bum open?"

She inserted another soap stick in his butt, making sure to wiggle her finger, until Jimmy burst out in tears.

"You need to learn to keep your little hole open, so your mommy can thoroughly clean it," the nurse told him. 'Every time you close it, I am going to put a soap stick in your bum. Let's try again. Good!"

Amy touched the inside of Jimmy bum with a q-tip. It tickled so badly, his whole body trembled. He strained to keep his butt open. He didn't want another soap stick in his bottom.

"No manners at all!" Amy laughed after her q-tip caused Jimmy's bowels to cramp and let out a loud fart, "I'm sorry, honey. You shut your little hole again. You know what it means: another soap stick."

She kept torturing the boy until he shuddered and pooped all of the soap out.

"Trying so hard, you made a poopie?" the nurse sneered at the embarrassed boy. "Luckily just soap. OK, enough for the first time. Your mommy will train you more at home."

Amy wiped Jimmy's butt and quickly covered everything between his legs with the diaper rash cream. As always, the nurse took delight in tickling the boy's most sensitive spots, though his bladder was completely empty, and the tickle just caused dry spasms, making Jimmy strain his willy and gasp for air.

"You can dress him now," she said after two minutes, that seemed like an eternity for an eight year old boy.

"Look what I bought you!" Laura said enthusiastically, showing Jimmy cute tights and a matching baby blue t-shirt.

She expected her son to protest, but Jimmy was so exhausted by the nurse's torture, he just gave her a "whatever" look. Laura quickly dressed Jimmy and sat him on her arm like a toddler.

"Thank the nurse for taking such a good care of you!" Laura knew how wrong it was to ask her son to do that after everything Amy subjected him to in the last 30 minutes, but she couldn't resist contributing to Jimmy's humiliation.

"Thank you!" Jimmy mumbled, avoiding the eye contact with his tormenter. He couldn't believe they were finally leaving the horrible place, likely to haunt him in his nightmares for the rest of his life.

Laura left the hospital, holding Jimmy in her arms. She wanted the world to know he was her toddler again.

5. The Neighbors

It took them almost an hour to get home due to the lunchtime traffic.

"Beats our old house, huh?" Laura said after they entered a spacious two-bedroom apartment. "Just the view alone..."

She pointed at the giant living room window, better described as a glass wall with a sliding door to the balcony.

"Come here," Laura took her son's hand, and walked onto the balcony. "Have you ever imagined living in a building like this? Overlooking the ocean."

The futuristic all-glass apartment building was indeed pretty cool. Until Jimmy realized the spacious balcony, that served as a "back yard", was shared: spanning across the entire floor. Anyone could come to their window and look inside.

"I don't know about you, but I'm gonna spend most of my time here, outside" Laura told her son.

Neighbors: young moms like Jimmy's with little sons and teenage sisters also seemed to prefer the balcony to being inside. It was quite busy, best compared to a regular house backyard during some kid's birthday or another party. Maybe there was one of those going on.

"They thought of everything," Laura said. "Even changing tables."

Jimmy followed her sight, discovering a 15-16 year old girl changing a toddler boy's diaper. Was she the boy's aunt or sister? His babysitter? So pretty. Did that boy's mom put the changing table outside? Probably not. He counted five of them throughout the balcony, apparently provided for the moms convenience. Whose idea was that? Little kids had no privacy at all on this island. Jimmy blushed, recalling embarrassing diaper changes at the hospital. Thankfully he won't be changed in public again. Not here. Since no one would make him wear a diaper.

"Let's go inside," Laura took her son's hand and they returned to their apartment.

"Mom, is that a..." Jimmy couldn't believe his eyes. Something he initially mistook for a dresser, was a very obvious padded changing table.

"Changing table?" Laura smirked, "It is. Nice to have one in the living room, isn't it? So I can watch TV, while changing you."

She couldn't be serious. And why she put that table right by the window?

"Are there any blinds?" Jimmy wondered.

"No need for blinds or curtains. The window glass dims automatically when you turn the TV on. Watch!"

Laura picked up the TV remote and pressed a button, turning on a huge screen on the wall. Jimmy noticed the window dim a little.

"Let me record this show," she said, pressing another button. "Come on, honey! Wanna see your room?"

Jimmy followed his mom into one of the bedrooms, noticing it didn't have a door. A bigger surprise was waiting for him inside.

"Like what you see?" Laura asked, struggling to keep a straight face. "Isn't it the most adorable little boy's bedroom in the world?"

She knew her eight year old son would be shocked to see an oversized crib and the second changing table. She even decorated the light blue walls with cartoon character decals for a distinctive toddler nursery look.

"Is that a crib?" Jimmy could barely hold back tears. "I'm not sleeping in that!"

"It's a kid's bed. The only one I found with a waterproof mattress."

A subtle reference at night-time incontinence made Jimmy blush. It was so unfair.

"I don't wanna sleep in a crib!" he cried in protest. "I'm not a baby!"

"Calm down, sweetie. It's not a crib."

"But it has side rails!" Jimmy pointed at the crib, tears streaming down his cheeks.

"All kid's beds do."

"My old one didn't. I wanna go back! I hate this island!"

Laura chuckled, secretly enjoying her son's tantrum. "If you are so upset over this crib, wait, until you discover your potty," she thought with a sly smile. The bathroom had a fingerprint lock, programmed, like many other doors, for the female residents of the island only. Her eight year old son would have no choice, but to use a toddler potty.

"Let's go back!" Jimmy insisted with a sob.

"Honey, this is our home now," Laura said firmly. "But you can indeed go back... to the hospital. I swear, if you don't quiet down right this minute, I am going to take you straight to the hospital we just came from."

Laura glanced at her son's frightened face. He was definitely afraid to see the "creative" nurses. Especially the one that changed him last. What little boy wouldn't? Laure briefly mulled on the sudden idea.

"I'm serious, honey," she told Jimmy with a straight face. "Let's call the hospital."

Laura quickly looked up and dialed the hospital number.

"What was that nurse's last name... Wilson... Can I speak with Ms.Wilson please?"

"Mom!" he cried in fear.

"Shh!... Who's calling? I am one of her patients mother... Harper... Yes, James... OK."

Laura put the phone on loudspeaker, so Jimmy could hear the conversation.

"Mom, please!" Jimmy begged between sobs.

"Quiet! Not another word, or we'll start packing. Are you gonna be a good boy now?"

Jimmy nodded.

"Promise to do everything I tell you?"

"Yes."

"Good! .... Hi Amy."

"Hi, Laura."

The unmistakeable young voce made Jimmy nearly pee his pants.

"How is our little Jimmy doing?" Amy asked. "What a cute boy you have."

"He's doing fine, thank you. We just got home. A lot of new discoveries. You know how it is."

"I certainly do," Amy stifled laughter. "What can I help you with today? Would you like to schedule Jimmy's next checkup? Say, two weeks from now. Bring him to the hospital and I'll personally take care of him."

"Let me think about it," Laura was enjoying her son's frightened look. "I just wanted to thank you for taking such a good care of Jimmy. Especially considering all his diapers you had to change."

"No problem at all. That's what we do here: care about little wetters and poopers. Hope your son will be using his potty at home. Good luck with his potty training! Say hi to Jimmy for me."

"He's actually listening. I put the phone on the loudspeaker. Sorry for not telling you earlier."

Jimmy heard another giggle.

"It's OK. So if you are listening, little one, do everything your mommy tells you," Amy said in a patronizing tone. "Especially when it comes to your potty business. Or we'll be seeing each other quite often."

"Thanks again for taking care of my son. Is there anything I can do for you?"

Amy wanted to tell Laura to ask Jimmy's pediatrician for the tac-stim therapy... mentioning just the right nurse, certified to do it... But that' would have been too obvious. Besides Jimmy's mom didn't seem to pick a pediatrician yet. All in due time.

"Making sure his pants stay dry would be the best reward for me and the rest of the nurses who changed him." she said instead.

The women said goodbyes and hung up. Amy stood in the hallway grinning. She was used to calls like that, typically ignoring moms calling her to frighten their sons. Half of the island did.

Though she made an exception for Jimmy, she still vividly remembered. The cute eight year old provided endless entertainment for the Unit 2B staff. He was more than welcome in their hospital again. Naïve Jimmy's mom couldn't know her threat to send her son to Amy would indeed materialize.

Cuties like Jimmy never severed their ties with the Unit 2B. Arranging his new visit there was super easy - the matter of just one conversation with his pediatrician. Especially if it was going to be Amy's best friend and lover Angie Larsen, who always sent Amy the cutest kids arriving on the island. Convincing others took more effort. Amy had to brandish her WNFP connections.

"I am sure your bedroom will grow on you," Laura told her son. "Let's go back to the living room, where you'll be spending most of your time in this apartment... with your mommy, since little children always need to be supervised."

Jimmy pouted at being called "little", but didn't argue. The hospital threat still seemed very real.

"All your toys are in that box" Laura pointed at the big plastic container. "Make a habit of putting them back after you are done playing. By the way, that's your play area. You are only allowed to play on those mats."

"But they are for babies," Jimmy protested, staring at the brightly colored foam mats: the interlocking kind commonly found at daycares.

"What's wrong with the mats, honey? Easy on your knees, don't you think? You crawl a lot, when you play... My little baby." Laura loved teasing her son. "Well, if you hate them so much, I can get you a playpen. Would you prefer that, honey?"

Jimmy couldn't understand, why his mom started treating him differently the moment they arrived on the island. It was so unfair. Even with everyone around treating kids his age like mindless toddlers... Why she allowed other moms to convince her, he was one too?

"I did some thinking after seeing your baby boy's fountains at the pediatrician's office," Laura started cautiously. "We need to change a few things, honey. You are not quite ready to be a big boy."

"What do you mean?" Jimmy gave his mom a suspicious look.

"For starters, I regret letting you shower on your own. You can't even wipe your bottom properly," Laura smirked at Jimmy's red face. "It was quite embarrassing seeing your dirty hiney, when the nurse took your temperature. She probably thought I am too lazy to take a good care of you. Pooping after the thermometer left your bum didn't make things any better. I am supposed to keep an eye on your potty business and take care of your constipation. Not a nurse with a rectal thermometer."

"But mom!"

"Silence! I'm not finished yet! I was a bad mother: not paying enough attention to your health and hygiene. We are going to start things right in our new home. Children your age need to have their temperature taken daily. Yes, with "that" thermometer. I already bought one. Hopefully it'll take care of the constipation problem too."

Jimmy frowned realizing how serious his mom was.

"And I am going to make sure, that the little hole the thermometer goes into, stays squeaky clean. I will not let you embarrass me at your next checkup."

Laura struggled to keep the straight face, watching her son blush.

"You are going to be bathed by me from now on," she continued. "I am also going to thoroughly wipe your bottom after going potty. Speaking of which..."

She went to the bathroom, returning with a light blue plastic potty.

"Like this potty, honey? Seems to be the right size for a boy your age."

"Mom are you..." Jimmy stared at the potty, unable to continue.

"Serious? I am, sweetheart. Little boys don't shower on their own. Nor they use adult toilets."

"But I'm not little!" Jimmy broke out in tears.

"Tell it to the hospital nurses, that changed your diapers. They gave me this wetting and pooping chart. Let's see. You took quite a liking to soaking and messing your diapers. Interesting... Looks like you also peed during every diaper change like a six month old. Why did you do it? I wouldn't want your nurse's job. Having to deal with your pee fountains all day long."

Jimmy didn't know what to say.

"I'm not little! I'm not a baby!" he kept chanting between sobs.

"You sure wet yourself like one. Don't tell me how big you are. Prove it. Show me, you know how to use a potty."

"Uhm... right here?"

"Yes, sweetie. Right here."

"But aren't you..." Jimmy blushed deeper. "...gonna leave? I can't do it with you watching."

"No, honey, I'm not leaving. Little children need to be supervised at all times, remember? Especially on the potty. What's the matter, sweetheart? I'm your mother. You weren't so shy, when I potty-trained you a couple of years ago. You loved showing everyone, how you tinkle in the potty, like a big boy. Come on. Let's take your pants off, so you can show your mommy again, what a big boy you are."

Laura kneeled and reached for Jimmy's pants.

"No!" Jimmy jumped back before she could put fingers inside the elastic waist of his footed "yoga" bottoms.

'Honey, let's try to pee in the potty. It's been over an hour since you did it last. Good thing the nurse made you tinkle before we left, so you wouldn't wet your pants on the bus. Let's keep them dry."

"But I don't wanna pee!" Jimmy lied, fighting a rapidly intensifying urge to relieve himself.

'Why did you cross your legs like that then? Honey, I don't want you to pee these nice pants. Can't you do it in the potty like a good boy?"

Jimmy didn't answer.

"Fine!" Laura raised her voice after standing up. "I gave you your chance to be a big boy. Guess you are not ready for the potty. Expecting me to diaper you? Is that what you want?"

She looked at her fidgeting son, gauging how soon he'd have a wet accident.

"You're gonna be very sorry, if you wet these pants," she told Jimmy.

Laura didn't care about the dirt-cheap pants. She bought plenty, expecting frequent accidents. She was secretly waiting for one. Hasn't seen her son pee himself for ages. Always so funny. She could stage Jimmy's wetting and messing every 30 minutes, if she wanted to. Laundry was a breeze: completely automatic. She didn't even need to dispose of the load inside the kid's pants. The washer machine took care of everything.

Suddenly the doorbell rang. Laura opened the door, looking at a mid-thirties woman with a teenage girl.

"Hi! I'm Monica, the 24th floor community president," the woman introduced herself. "And this is my daughter Vicky. We saw you on the balcony and thought we'd stop by and welcome you to the community. By the way we live next door, in 24E."

"Laura," Jimmy's mom smiled, taking a note of Monica's silver Venus pin indicating her WNFP rank. "Please come in."

"Are you busy tonight?" Monica asked. "I'm thinking of a welcome dinner. You'll get a chance to meet everyone. How about 19:30? Right after the daily kids bath."

"I need to bath my son before bringing him to that dinner?" Laura looked confused.

"No, not for the dinner," Monica explained. "Sorry. I thought you knew. Another tradition of ours: to bath all little children together on the balcony. We set up several inflatable kiddie pools."

"What a great idea!" Laura smiled slyly, imagining her shy son's reaction to such public bath. "Letting little ones play in the water together."

"With a weather like this all year round no one bathes their kids indoors. One condition though, if it's OK with you. Someone other than you would bath your son. While you'd bath somebody else's kid."

"Interesting..." it took Laura a couple of seconds to digest. "Like... swapping kids?"

"Something like that. You don't have to swap your son with another mom's kid. You are free to pick any little one you like. As long, as he is not yours. Or just bring your son there to have him bathed, if you are busy."

"I see."

"It lets you care for children of different ages: younger and older than yours. Just make sure you go through all of the kids before bathing the same one again. By the way, you can also visit other floors. All floor communities bath little kids like that. They may have different schedules. Some prefer mornings. Make sure you are OK with specific rules, like cleaning the child with an enema before his bath."

Laura grinned with delight. She yearned to hold a baby in her arms again, missing her son's infant and toddler years. And if she bathes someone else's boy Jimmy's age, he'd blush, when she touches his boy parts. While watching her red-faced son bathed by another mom. Priceless!

"It teaches the kids, we are one happy family," Monica kept explaining.

"Jimmy will be thrilled to find out, that he's got many moms, who can bath him," Laura smirked sarcastically. "And big sisters." She winked at Vicky. "Is that kid sharing strictly between moms? Or you bath little ones too, sweetie?"

"Love doing it," Vicky smiled.

"You can ask for a babysitter certificate, if the girl that wants to bath your son looks too young." Monica suggested. "Most girls here become experienced babysitters by the age of 14. Infant care is part of the high school curriculum."

"Younger girls are allowed to bath kids too," Vicky explained. "They just cannot do it alone."

"I can assure you, everyone here has the necessary skills to bath your son," Monica told Laura. "Young girls learn them very quickly. We set aside one day a week just for that. No one older than 16 is allowed to bath little ones. Just supervise."

"Great idea," Laura agreed. "To teach younger girls how to bath a kid."

"Yep. The adults take a break, watching their daughters and younger sisters doing that. Many bring friends."

"Seems like fun. I'll be delighted to participate," Laura decided. "Jimmy needs to get used to being cared for by others, so he won't give trouble to babysitters and daycares workers. I won't always be around to change and bath him. Starting the new job next week."

"Congratulations! What you do for living?"

"Creative marketing."

"Wow! So you are an artist?"

"Of the internet kind. And you must be a pastry chef?" Laura turned to Vicky. "Did you bake these delicious rolls yourself?"

"I did. We always bake them for the new neighbors."

"Thanks a lot! Can't wait to try them. And Jimmy would gobble all of them, if I let him. Can I offer you some tea? Please come in."

Laura invited Monica and Vicky into the living room.

"This is my son Jimmy."

"Hi Jimmy," Vicky smiled. "I'm Vicky."

The boy just stared at her, unable to speak.

"Jimmy!" Laura raised her voice.

"Hi!" Jimmy mustered to say, mesmerized by the girl's beauty.

"So shy," Monica smiled. "How old is he? Eight?"

"Yeah, eight," Laura confirmed.

"Love your pants, Jimmy," Vicky said. "You must be a big fan of Vinnie the Pooh."

Jimmy blushed, reminded of his ridiculous toddler attire. Not to mention how awkward it felt being at the center of everyone's attention.

"And this is your potty?" Vicky pointed at the plastic potty, making Jimmy's face redder.

"Made your mom's life a lot easier..." Monica remarked.

"When did you get him to regularly use the potty?" Vicky asked.

"We're still working on it," Laura told her. "You know how it is with boys."

"Boys are notoriously hard to potty train," Monica agreed. "How many pairs of wet pants you have to deal with daily?"

"Looks like he is about to pee these ones," Vicky giggled.

"I noticed his potty dance too," Monica nodded.

It suddenly dawned on Jimmy he didn't need to stand in front of them listening to the absurd conversation about his potty training. Not to mention he indeed needed to be somewhere else: in the bathroom, to avoid wetting his pants in front of everyone. He glanced at his mom and dashed out of the room.

"Mom!" Jimmy called anxiously a couple seconds later after finding the bathroom door locked.

"Honey, what are you doing here?" his mom came. "It's kind of impolite to leave guests like that. They were wondering where you went."

"The bathroom's locked."

"Yeah. So what?"

"I need to go to a bathroom!"

"No, you don't. I'll bath you before the dinner."

"But I..."

"Honey, how many times I have to tell you? You need to use the potty for your little boy's business."

"I don't wanna!" Jimmy burst out in tears "Only babies do!"

"Don't make a scene. We have guests," Laura told her son calmly. "You heard the doctor yesterday. Children your age should do their business in the potty. Both number one and number two. How about this? Show me that you know how to use the potty. Keep you pants dry for a week, and we'll talk about the adult toilet. Deal? Now, calm down and let's go back to the living room."

Laura took Jimmy's hand and dragged him to the living room.

"What happened?" Vicky asked.

"He does need to go potty after all," Laura sighed. "It's right here, honey. Let's take your pants off and sit you on it. Or it's just number one?"

Jimmy froze with a blank stare on his face. Was his mom really going to sit him on the plastic potty?

"Jimmy, I asked you a question!" Laura raised her voice. "Is it number one or number two?"

Barely able to hold his pee, Jimmy decided to tell his mom about it. He still hoped she'd unlock the bathroom for him. She couldn't be serious expecting him to pee in the potty right in front of their neighbors.

"It's..." Jimmy felt the hot wave sweep over his face. "Numb-b-b..."

He trembled and let out a stream of pee in his pants. He couldn't believe what was happening to him. And he couldn't stop wetting his pants, feeling the warm patch spreading around his crotch and inner thighs.

"Oh my gosh, Jimmy!" Laura tried her best to act surprised. "Look what you did!"

Jimmy kept his eyes downcast. He couldn't face his mom's gaze. Or anyone else's. He wanted to disappear in the thin air.

"Never seen a redder face in my life," Vicky giggled.

"At least he's ashamed of peeing his pants," Laura sighed. "Why did you do it, Jimmy? Why you are so stubborn? Couldn't you pee in the potty, when I asked you to?"

Laura felt the tingling in her crotch. Scolding her red-faced son was so much fun. His first wet accident far exceeded her expectations, when Jimmy peed himself in front of their neighbors. Especially the cute 14-something girl he seemingly had a crush on.

"And there I thought you were a big boy," Monica sighed, playing along.

Jimmy strained his whole body and stopped the flow. There was a big wet spot on his pants everyone kept staring at. Having finally realized the full extend of what just happened to him, the boy started to sob.

"How often he wets himself during the day?" Monica inquired.

"Quite a bit according to the chart they gave me at the hospital. Though they diapered him there."

"Hospital nurses don't have time to sit kids like him on the potty and wait for the results."

"I thought it wouldn't be a problem to get him to use it at home." Laura took her son's hand. "Come on. Let's get you on changed."

She brought Jimmy to the changing table and sat him on it. "Lie on your back. Here we go. Lift your butt!"

The boy complied allowing her to pull his pants off.

"Don't touch anything there!" she slapped Jimmy's hands away. "Great! Now I need to wash your hands too."

"He's so shy," Vicky giggled.

"Jimmy!" Laura raised her voice, seeing her son cover himself again. "Could you keep your hands on the table please?"

Jimmy sighed and moved his hands away from his crotch, wondering why their neighbors didn't politely leave. Seemed like they really wanted to watch his change.

"That's better," Laura said. "Hasn't anyone here seen little pee-pees before."

"Nothing new down there, sweetheart," Monica agreed, pointing at Jimmy's crotch. "I see plenty of naked little boys every day at the daycare I manage. Vicky works there too. When she's not babysitting privately."

"You do?" Laura turned to Vicky. "I may need your services."

"Let me know," the girl said. "I'll be happy to babysit your little cutie."

"Would you watch him for a few moments?" Laura asked her. "I need to get the baby wipes and his diaper rash cream."

Laura went to the fridge, returning with a box of baby wipes and a tube of cream.

"We also use chilled wipes on kids his age," Monica nodded in approval.

"He needs to learn his lesson."

She raised her son's legs and started wiping Jimmy's bottom.

"So cute... Wiggling his bottom like a six month old!" Vicky giggled. "Why boys are always so restless on the changing table?"

"Keep still!" Laura told her squirming son. "If you pee your pants at the age of eight, you can surely handle cold wiping."

"Let me hold him for you" Monica offered, taking a hold of Jimmy's ankles.

"Thanks," Laura nodded.

She proceeded to wipe her son's balls, taking a note how he trembled every time she touched his pink sack with a cold wipe. Laura took her time, watching Jimmy's pee-pee strain. She was determined to make him spring a baby boy fountain.

"You're not gonna pee on me, are you?" she asked her embarrassed son, tickling his balls with a folded wipe.

Jimmy shuddered and let out a spurt of pee.

"Guess that's your answer..." Laura sighed.

"Playing firemen?" Vicky giggled. "Every boy's favorite game on the changing table."

"Who needs a fire extinguisher, when we have his little hose?" Laura said, making everyone laugh.

"With boys, you don't need mad elimination communication skills to turn a pants/diaper change into a pottytunity," Monica remarked. "Every single one pees having his little package cleaned with a cold wipe."

Having learned by now what EC meant, Jimmy was sick of listening to adults exchanging tips to "potty" him like a six month old.

"Thoroughly wipe him behind the balls," Monica instructed Laura, "Every boy's dirtiest place."

Laura kept wiping Jimmy for another couple of minutes, following her neighbor's pointers. An experienced daycare worker, Monica taught her even more tricks, when Laura proceeded to put the diaper rash cream on her son's boy parts. Knowing how ticklish Jimmy became after the "correction", Laura made sure to use a very light touch. It didn't take long for the pee to pour out of his willy again.

"Jimmy!" she gave him a stern look, trying not to laugh. "Are you doing it on purpose? I've had it with you! Do you want me to spend all day changing you? Since now I need to start over. There is so much to do in our new apartment. Not to mention a ton of emails I need to answer."

"I can wipe him clean and apply the ointment," Vicky offered, taking a hint.

"You can? If it's not too much to ask... So sorry about him."

"No problem. I'll take care of him."

"Thanks!" Laura let the girl take her place. "He's all yours, sweetie."

"I can hold him all by myself, mom," Vicky told Monica, taking Jimmy's legs.

"Sure you don't need my help? He's a handful."

"I'll manage," Vicky crossed Jimmy's ankles and raised the boy's legs making him lift his butt off the table. "First let's make sure we're not gonna have any more surprises." She winked at Jimmy. "Can you make a tinkle, sweetie-pie?"

Jimmy blushed a brighter shade of red. It seemed unreal: a pretty teenage girl holding him butt-naked on a changing table and asking to... pee? Like a six month old? He started to regret he didn't pee in the potty, though doing it in front of everyone like a three-year old was only marginally better.

"What's the matter, bunny?" Vicky cooed, "Show me your baby boy fountain again. I know you love doing it. Every little boy does. Come on. Let me help you a little."

She reached behind Jimmy's balls and started expertly tickling them, quickly making the boy pee.

"Here we go!" the girl smiled. "Look at that fountain! So much fun!"

No matter how hard Jimmy kicked his legs and squirmed, he couldn't escape the girl's fingers.

"How are you able to hold him down like that?" Laura asked Vicky, watching her son's wild bucking. "You had a good teacher, sweetie."

"Amazing, isn't it?" Monica grinned with pride. "Only 14 years old, yet perfectly capable of handling the most uncooperative kids even older than yours."

"You taught your daughter well," Laura said, watching the girl's fingers dance all over Jimmy's shriveled little sack. "I wonder if she plays piano."

"I do," Vicky nodded.

Vicky kept tickling Jimmy for a little while even after he stopped sprinkling pee out of his willy.

"There is like a special term for cowardly boy's balls..." she said, "When they jump up at the lightest touch trying to escape your fingers."

"Are you talking about the cremasteric reflex, honey?" Monica suggested.

"Yeah, that's what doctors call it. Look!" she tickled the left side of Jimmy's ballsack. "So jumpy. The right one is too. Is that how the doctors check the boy's ticklishness?"

"Among other things," Monica smirked.

Laura immensely enjoyed watching Vicky's ministrations. It was such a cute and innocent scene. She wished for a 14 year old sister or niece: pretty and experienced like Vicky. Would have been perfect for Jimmy. It was fate. That cute giggling neighbor girl was meant to be his babysitter.

Seeing her son pee again responding to Vicky's touch sent Laura over the edge. She desperately needed a relief. It was wrong, but she had a crush on the cute girl too. Who wouldn't? Vicky got Jimmy under her spell the moment he saw her. He didn't have a chance, instantly drowning in her pretty hazel eyes. Laura has never seen her son blush so much. His red face always turned her on. And together with that cute kitten changing him...

"Would you excuse me for a moment?" she apologized to her guests, heading to the bathroom.

It took Laura mere seconds to rub her engorged "girl's button" to a shuddering orgasm, she hadn't experienced in years. She covered her mouth to silence the screams. The first excruciating wave of pleasure passed, and she just sat on the toilet shaking. It seemed like the sweet cramps would never stop. Was she still on Earth, or she went to heaven? She was so lucky to be accepted into the ETB program with her son.

"Almost done," Vicky told Laura upon her return, "Just need to put some cream into his groin folds."

"I need bathroom breaks like that too, when I am at work," Monica whispered into Laura's ear. "Especially if someone brings a pretty boy like yours. You are so lucky!"

"Thank you!"

Having her secret discovered felt a little awkward, but Laura did not need to be ashamed of her desires. Not on this island.

"Stand up!" she told her son, after Vicky finished massaging the diaper rash cream into his delicate folds.

"Can I wear different pants?" Jimmy asked, noticing a piece of footed clothing in his mom's hands.

"They are different, honey. Lime green with a little froggy."

"Do you know his name?" Vicky asked.

Jimmy sighed. Of course he knew the frog's name: Kermit. But why this pretty girl kept talking to him like a two year old?

"I don't like them," he told his mom, on the verge of crying. "Mom, please! Can I have like... normal pants? And underwear."

"I am afraid, honey, the only underwear appropriate for you after your accident is a diaper. So what it is going to be? These Kermit pants or this Diego diaper?" se pointed at a couple of diapers the nurses gave her at the hospital.

Jimmy frowned, offended by the choice his mother's gave him.

"Neither?" Laura asked with a scornful smile. "No pants at all?"

"Doesn't he look cuter without them?" Vicky giggled, admiring the butt-naked boy in his short t-shirt, that didn't even cover his belly button.

"What did I tell you about covering yourself?" Laura raised her voice. "Stop pulling your t-shirt. You almost tore it at the seam.

She was tempted to leave her eight year old son butt-naked, but she didn't need another scene in front of the guests. There'd be a more appropriate time to introduce him to being naked from the waist down at home. And most importantly on the spacious shared balcony, where other moms can admire his bare butt. While she is enjoying looking at their sons round bottoms and bouncing willies.

"Did your mommy tell you, you have the cutest tummy in the world?" Vicky jokingly poked Jimmy in his belly button.

It took the boy by surprise, making him let out a loud fart.

"Where are your manners, Jimmy?" Laura asked her son. "Our neighbors probably think I didn't teach you any."

"I am sorry," Jimmy mumbled with a red face.

"Sorry for what? Come on. You need to say it loud. That you are sorry for pooting. Let's hear it: sorry, I pooted."

Jimmy had to repeat the humiliating apology, wishing the Earth would open and swallow him.

"You are only allowed to do it on the potty," Laura told her son. "And lying on the changing table with your legs up in the air. If it happens in any other situation, you need to apologize for pooting. Understood?"

Jimmy meekly nodded.

"Now, let me ask you again. Are you gonna wear these pants or you prefer a diaper? Pants, right? I thought so too."

Jimmy reached for the green pants in his mom's hands.

"What are doing?" she gave him a sharp slap on the wrist.

"Getting my pants?" Jimmy looked completely confused.

"To put them on? You can't do it, honey. Guess, I forgot to tell you the last rule. Only adults can dress you from now on."

"Why?"

"Little boys are dressed and undressed by their mommies and babysitters, silly."

"I'm not little!" Jimmy struggled to hold back tears. He didn't want to cry like a toddler in front of the pretty girl smiling at him.

"I am afraid, sweetie, you are", Laura told him with a condescending smirk, "A mischievous little boy refusing to use his potty. Keep wetting and messing your pants, and you'll be treated accordingly: like a two year old.".

Jimmy bit his lip, realizing, that arguing with his mom would only make things worse.

"Now," she continued. "If you want me to put these pants on you, you need to promise, that you'll ask for your potty next time you want to make tinkles or poopies. And if I am not around, you need to ask any adult supervising you - to sit you on the potty. Is that clear?"

Jimmy nodded. Anything she says. He couldn't bear standing on the changing table butt-naked in front of his mom and the two neighbors, not to mention the ones on the balcony, that surely stared at his bare bottom.

"Good! Do you know how a good boy should ask for his potty?" Laura wasn't quite finished, enjoying her son's red face. "No? First you need to tell me or your babysitter, what you need your potty for: tinkles or poo-poos. If it is only number one, the potty will be placed in front of you. Like this," Laura brought the plastic potty and put it on the changing table by her son's feet. "Put your hands down by your sides! Stop covering yourself! Or you are trying to play with your willy? We'll eradicate that nasty habit as well."

Vicky stifled a giggle, sending new hot waves over Jimmy's face.

"What a shame!" Laura couldn't stop scolding her son, feeling familiar wetness in her panties. "How many times a day you rub it?"

She took a hold of Jimmy's flaccid pee-pee, making him blush more.

"Little boys have this tiny spigot between their legs for only one purpose," Laura continued, rolling her son's willy in her fingers. "Can you tell us? No? Forgot what your willy is for?"

"For peeing?" Jimmy managed to mumble.

"Right. And nothing else. Under no circumstances you are allowed to touch any of your boy bits. Only mommies can touch their little boys down here. And other adult caretakers."

"But she..." Jimmy nodded at Vicky.

"Hush! Ms.Vicky..." Laura made a pause for her words to sink in. "...is an adult, as far, as you are concerned. She is a skilled babysitter, and she can touch you anywhere she needs. I won't always be around to change your wet pants. Get used to others helping me bath and change you. Even girls younger than Vicky."

Laura let go of her son's pee-pee, noticing, that her manipulations made it stick forward. Perfect for what she planned next.

"Since you are not allowed to touch your little twig, someone else needs to aim it in the potty, so you won't wet your legs or make a mess on the floor," she looked at her son's red face. "No one enjoys mopping pee puddles. And as far, as your own hands, put them on your head please. You heard me! Now pick your favorite person in the room to hold you willy. Yes, I really want you to try. Show us how good little boys pee in the potty."

Jimmy hated his mom's game, but he desperately wanted her to put the pants on him.

"Mommy?" he looked at Laura.

"No, honey. I am sorry. I've had enough pee-pee holding for today. Why don't you ask Vicky to do it? Didn't you like how she wiped your bottom and boy parts? So much, you tried to pee on her several times. Is that how little boys show their affection? I know you can't wait to do it again while she's holding your little spigot. Go on, ask her... Ms.Vicky, could you please hold my willy while I tinkle in the potty?"

Jimmy stood silent, unable to comprehend her request. He couldn't believe his own mom would humiliate him like this.

"Are you acting up again? Do you want your pants? Or you prefer to spend the rest of the day butt-naked? Mostly on the balcony. It's so nice outside."

The boy meekly abided, asking Vicky to hold his willy.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Laura asked Jimmy after Vicky aimed his little spigot in the potty.

"Let's make tinkles for mommy," the girl asked him with a sweet smile. "Don't you want to show her what a big boy you are - peeing in the potty standing up?

Vicky cooed to Jimmy for another minute trying to persuade him to pee.

"What I thought," Laura concluded with a smug face. "Not quite ready to be a big boy."

"But I don't wanna!" Jimmy tried to explain on the verge of crying.

"Don't wanna what?"

"Pee," he blushed again.

"Mommies know best when their little ones need to go potty. If I listen to you, we'll run out of dry pants in a few hours. I want to make something very clear. Adults are always in charge. You need to do what you are told. You are lucky I don't have time right now to deal with your stubbornness. Or keep Vicky here for another hour holding your pee-pee."

"I can lay him on his back and tickle him again," Vicky offered.

"No, dear. You've already spent too much time on him. Without me paying a penny."

Laura turned to her son again.

"Alright, we've covered number one. Let's move to the second part: making poopies. Which, remember, you also need to properly ask for. Assuming you still remember how... What one needs to do after that?" Laura moved the potty behind Jimmy and forcibly sat him on it.

To Jimmy's surprise and further embarrassment the potty indeed fit his eight year old's bum perfectly, though it was a little low for his longer legs, forcing him to open his crotch. He traced Vicky's gaze and brought his knees together in a futile attempt to hide the boy parts hanging between his legs.

"Is that how good boys sit on the potty?" Laura raised her voice, "Keep your legs apart, so everyone can see your progress." She pulled his knees apart. "So what we do to make the poopies come out?" she continued. "Strain and push, right? Can you at least pretend, honey? Looks like you completely forgot your potty training. No wonder you took to wetting and messing diapers."

Laura let her son sit on the potty for half a minute, watching his face changing different shades of red.

"I don't suppose you'd reward us with a poopie right this moment," she sighed. "Next time, when I sat you on your potty for real, you'll be given exactly two minutes. Your potty better has a nice big load when that time is up. Because otherwise you'll find yourself on the changing table in a diapering position. Spending some quality time with this mommy's helper."

She showed Jimmy a "special" rectal thermometer. "Or this one," Laura produced an enema syringe. "Yes, I know, very unpleasant. But extremely effective tools to make stubborn boys like you do your little kids business. I hope it won't come to this, as you'll be filling your potty, when asked to. Now, what you need to do after you went number two? Come on, it's obvious."

"Wipe my butt?" Jimmy looked up, wondering how long his mom was going to torment him with embarrassing questions.

"Not exactly. You need to tell the adult in charge, that you finished pooping, and ask her to clean your little hiney with baby wipes. Which will happen on the changing table in the diapering position - for easy access to you dirty hole and boy bits. Followed by a thorough oiling or creaming, so you won't get a rash."

Laura put the thermometer and enema syringe back into the top table drawer.

"OK, get up!" she helped her son to stand up. "Not sure, how much of what I just told you sunk in, and how many wet and dirty pants we are going to go through today, but before I put a new pair on you, you need to do two things: thank Vicky for taking such a good care of you and promise me and our sweet neighbors, that from now on you'll ask for your potty in time - to avoid wetting and messing your pants. Can you promise that, honey?"

With his face aflame, Jimmy made the humiliating promise, repeating his mom's words.

"Now thank Ms.Vicky for cleaning your bum and boy bits"

"Thank you!" JImmy told Vicky, noticing his mom's stare.

"For what?" Laura raised her voice. "Repeat after me. Thank you, Ms.Vicky for cleaning my pee-pee... Go on."

Jimmy repeated her words, wondering how his face didn't catch fire.

"My little marbles..." Laura continued. "And my poopie hole."

Jimmy stumbled. He had no choice, but to repeat that too.

"Alright, let's get you dressed," Laura quickly put the footed pants on her son, pulling them high over his t-shirt. "Do you need help getting down? Here's the chair."

Jimmy got down from the changing table and immediately headed to the door. He couldn't stand another second with the neighbors who just witnessed the most humiliating moments in his life.

"Your play area is over there!" reminded her son Laura after catching his arm.

She pointed at the brightly colored mats.

"Thanks for your help, Vicky. Finally... Let's have some tea."

Laura made the tea and invited everyone to the kitchen table.

"We are going to the beach," Monica mentioned. "Wanna come?"

"Which one?"

"The Pond."

"I heard about it. It's like a giant aquarium full of colorful fish?"

"You need to see it for yourself. Come with us. There will be another mom. Her son and Jimmy can play together."

"OK. It's a crime to avoid beaches, living on this island."

"Let's meet... say in one hour? At the bus stop by our building?"

Laura bumped her smartwatch with Monica's exchanging the contact info and the neighbors left. An hour was enough to eat sandwiches and get ready. She had everything: the sunblock, towels, and toys for her son to play in the sand - all bought yesterday during one epic shopping spree, while Jimmy was in the hospital.

6. Beach Fun

In exactly one hour Laura and her son were standing at the bus stop, everyone agreed to meet at.

"Ready?" Jimmy heard behind his back.

He turned around, noticing Monica, Vicky, and a blond woman in the early twenties, holding a two year old boy.

"This is Irene," Monica introduced the toddler's mom.

"Hello!" Irene greeted Laura and Jimmy with a slight Eastern European accent.

"Hi, Irene!" Laura said, "I am Laura. This is my son Jimmy. And who is this happy little fella?"

"Danny. He loves the beach. We brought plenty of toys for the both of them to play in the sand."

"I brought some too. Where are you from? Such a beautiful accent."

"Poland. Though going to the US after our stay here. WNFP took care of the green card. And the job."

"Of course. What city you're gonna settle in?"

"Haven't decided yet. Any with an ORC office." (Orlov Robotics Corporation)

"You'll sure have enough time to decide. How old is your Danny? Two?"

"Turned two last month," Irene confirmed.

"How long he's been out of diapers?"

"I started potty training Danny a couple of weeks ago."

"See, Jimmy?" Laura couldn't pass up the opportunity to make her son's face red again. "Even a two year old managed to learn how to use the potty. While you prefer to pee your pants."

"He does?" Irene faked her surprise. "Poops them too?"

"Thankfully hasn't happened today," Laura sighed. "Gonna keep your promise, Jimmy? To ask for your potty in time. Are you?" she raised her voice.

"I am," Jimmy nodded, feeling his face getting hot. Why his mom had to bring up his embarrassing accident? And this happy toddler. That's who they wanted him to "play together" with? He expected a boy around his age instead of a two year old. Who'd surely make him look like a toddler. Little did he know, what waited for him at the beach.

"Here's our bus," Monica said, pointing at the compact driverless bus.

It took about ten minutes to get to the beach.

"How about this spot?" Irene suggested after a brief walk in the sand.

"Perfect!" Laura agreed, dropping her bag.

Everyone rolled out their beach blankets and planted the umbrellas. Jimmy lazily watched Irene undress her two year old son. He expected her to put some kind of swimwear on Danny, but she left the boy naked. And this is when it hit Jimmy: every boy at the beach was naked too. Some even older than him. The pictures at the airport were indeed taken at the local beaches.

"Come here, honey," his mom called. "Raise your arms. Let's take off your t-shirt. Now the pants..."

"Are you..." Jimmy felt his cheeks getting hot. "… going to change me right here?"

"Change? Who said anything about changing? Stand still. Here we go."

She pulled Jimmy's pants to his ankles and quickly freed his feet of them. Jimmy wasn't very happy about changing in front of everybody like a toddler, but he still hoped he'd be treated differently than the rest of the island kids.

"That's it, honey," Laura told her naked son. "Here's your bucket and shovel. Go build a sand castle."

"But... what about swimwear?"

"Swimwear? Sorry, sweetheart. There is no swimwear for kids your age."

"Little kids don't need to wear anything at the beach," Irene told Laura with her Polish accent. "The "swimwear" I saw in your country is absolutely ridiculous. Swimming diapers? Are you kidding me? No such thing in Europe. And pretty much the rest of the world."

"Never liked those either," Laura agreed, taking off her dress, "Still here?" she looked at her son. "Don't give me any trouble. You gotta stop acting like this. Never thought an eight year old could be so shy. I thought you'd happy to lose your clothes. Look at Danny. What's happened to you? You loved running around naked when you were younger."

"But I am not anymore."

"There we go again." Laura sighed. "A big boy, huh? Who hasn't learned how to use the potty. Stop making a scene! Look around. See that boy?" she pointed at the naked boy nearby. "Looks older than you. I bet he let his mom undressed him without a fuss. What's he, nine?"

"Maybe even ten," Monica said.

Jimmy looked around. He did make a scene and quite a few young moms and their teenage daughters were staring at him. Not to mention Irene two feet away looking him up and down.

"What did I tell you about touching your pee-pee?" Laura slapped her son's hands after his attempt to cover himself.

"I'm..." Jimmy's face turned redder. "Not touching it."

"Yeah, right!" Laura rolled her eyes.

"Boys use every chance to do it," Irene added.

Jimmy heard a few stifled giggles, as more young moms around them tuned in.

"Move your hands! No covering!" Laura slapped his hands again. "Nothing anyone here hasn't seen before. Are you gonna stand and stare at me? Who did I buy this for?"

Laura handed her son a small plastic bucket with a matching toy shovel. Jimmy reluctantly took the toys. It was so unfair. Only a three year old would play with something like this. Not to mention how ridiculously he looked standing in front of everyone naked.

"I've got a better idea," Vicky said, getting up from the blanket. "Wanna go for a swim, Jimmy? See the pretty fish? Plenty of it in the water."

"You're gonna watch him, right?" Laura asked the girl.

"In the water? Of course!" the girl nodded and turned to Jimmy. "Do you like swimming?"

"He can't," Laura said.

"I'll teach him. Let's go!" Vicky took Jimmy's hand.

By the time they got to the water, walking past moms with toddler sons and teenage daughters, Jimmy's face was beet-red. Seemed like the entire beach was staring at him. He couldn't wait to get in the ocean: waist deep, so no one would see his willy. Well, at least people on the beach. The ones in the water could perfectly see everything and everyone, that clear it was.

"Pretty cool, huh?" Vicky asked him.

The calm blue lagoon indeed mesmerized Jimmy: its crystal clear water, pebbles and seashells at the bottom, not to mention the small fish.

"Let's go deeper," Vicky pulled his hand. "What's the matter, honey? I know you can't swim. Silly little boy. You are safe with me. I am gonna hold you. I won't let you drown. Come on. There is more fish... right over there."

She took Jimmy in her arms like a baby, looking at him with a sweet smile. He stared at her beautiful face, enjoying being so close to her, but also confused and embarrassed. He was like a little brother to her. A pathetic toddler brother, who pees his pants.

"My little baby boy," Vicky gently rocked Jimmy in her arms. Should she even charge for babysitting such an angel? He definitely had a crush on her. She noticed it a while ago, catching a few of his shy glances. She felt the boy squirm and held him tighter.

"Playing the bubbles game?" Vicky giggled after his loud fart.

"Sorry," Jimmy apologized awkwardly.

"Do you need to go number two?"

The red-faced boy shook his head.

"Sure? Your little hole..." She felt it with her finger, making the boy flinch with a surprised and frightened look on his face. "...is trying to convince me otherwise. How about we plug it. Just in case."

Vicky curtly slid her big finger in before Jimmy could say anything. He was speechless, staring at her with a dropped jaw.

"What?" Vicky tried to act innocent, wiggling her finger inside Jimmy's butt.

It was so funny watching him squirm and kick his legs.

"Do you play the stinky bubble game in the bathtub with your mommy?" she asked the boy. "No more pooting. Promise?"

Jimmy nodded, wondering how long she was going to keep her finger in his sensitive hole. Vicky kept wiggling and twirling it, knowing that such stimulation will cause new loud farts the moment she withdraws her finger. She did it without notice, satisfied with the results: a big bubble erupting out of Jimmy's poop hole.

"You seem to need some help with keeping your little hole shut," she told the embarrassed boy, pushing her finger in again.

Jimmy cringed at the unpleasant invasion. He felt helpless and vulnerable: left naked and held by a much older girl, who touched him anywhere she wanted penetrating his most private places, no one, even his mom, dared to touch.

"Calm down, baby. It doesn't hurt," Vicky told him with a sweet smile, wiggling her finger around. She was contemplating withdrawing and inserting it again to enjoy Jimmy's reaction. It is the moment of penetration, that causes the most discomfort. Though it also evokes the strong urge to poop - something she definitely wanted to avoid now.

"Let's turn around," Vicky reluctantly withdrew her finger from Jimmy's butt and turned his weightless naked body to face away from her, putting her hand between his legs and holding him like moms hold their infants. Except there was no diaper, and Vicky's hand cupped Jimmy's boy parts.

She chuckled upon discovering his cute stiffie, no doubt caused by her recent anal ministrations.

"You weigh nothing in the water. Ever thought you could just sit on one's hand?" Vicky couldn't help playing with his ticklish balls, rewarded by furious leg kicking.

"Hold still. You are scaring the fish. By the way... let's make sure you don't scare any with your farts." She giggled and quickly inserted her big finger into Jimmy's puckered hole, keeping the other four on his balls and willy.

"Let's go a little further. Calm down. It's safe. I am holding you. With just one hand. Or better said finger." She giggled. "The trick is to know, where to place it, right?"

She wiggled the finger inside his butt following by gently tickling his sensitive balls with other fingers. The sharp tickle made Jimmy kick his legs and nearly jump out of the water.

"OK, since you are so eager to swim, let me teach you," Vicky told the boy, putting him into a horizontal position. She kept her big finger in his butt, using the other four to tickle his balls. "Ready? Hold your breath and put your face in the water... Let's do it again. Only now you need to exhale, making bubbles... Good! Let's see how long you can hold your breath underwater. I'm gonna count. Ready. Set. Go! One! Two! Three! Four! Five! Not bad for a first timer."

Jimmy proudly looked at her. It was a lot of fun. He almost forgot she was still holding her finger in his butt.

"And as for swimming, it's just treading water," she explained to the boy. "Come on!"

Vicky reasserted her authority by wiggling her finger in his butt.

"Kick your legs and move your arms, silly!" she told the boy, tickling his balls. "Here we go! That's what I'm talking about!"

She could care less to teach him swim. It was her excuse to manipulate Jimmy's boy parts under the cover of water. She experimented with different ticklish spots to make him kick his legs. Not just the back of his round sack and the sensitive area between it and his poop hole. She explored the tip of his willy, delicate groin folds and even the smooth hairless pubic area.

Vicky did it to every boy, she babysat, when she brought them to the beach. At least she never viciously masturbated them in the water, like some of her friends, bragging about their mad skills to give little boys prolonged "wigglies", an unofficial babysitter's rite of passage.

One claimed that she was able to keep a six year old climaxing for half an hour, until he passed out. Then, after the poor kid regained consciousness, he was subjected to prolonged scrotal tickling and willy nub rubs, making him repeatedly lose control of his bladder and even bowels. Until he passed out again. Vicky enjoyed tickling boys to make them pee, but she never subjected anyone to such torture.

"Wanna try something different?" she asked Jimmy, withdrawing a finger from his butt. "Do you know, that you can just lie on your back without doing anything? You won't drown. Yes, I am serious. You don't need to tread water. Just lie still with your arms and legs apart. Like a starfish. Remember Patrick?"

She gently laid Jimmy on his back, supporting him with one hand.

"Ready? I am going to let go for a second. Let's see if the water can support you... Oh, come on. You need to be absolutely still to float. Let's try it again. I am here. Just trust me, OK? You won't drown."

She let go for two second, watching Jimmy panic and helplessly tread water.

"You need to completely relax and let the water support you," Vicky told the boy after bringing him back to surface. "Make a star. Good boy!"

She pushed on Jimmy's soft butt to raise his tummy out of the water. Then some more to reveal his willy. It was still stiff - pointing straight up. Vicky smiled at the cute infantile erection. The tiny thing was so adorable. Why didn't her smartwatch had a camera to snap a picture?

"Lookie what we got here!" she giggled, flicking the boy's pee-pee. "Is that a ship mast? A submarine periscope? Or just one little boy's weenie?"

Jimmy giggled at her references, but abruptly stopped, realizing he cannot laugh at baby jokes about his willy. Only two year olds do.

"Why it is pointing up like this?" Vicky asked, watching the boy's face getting red. "You know why, don't you?" She gently rolled the little twig in her fingers. "What happens when little boys strain their willies? No clue, huh? Pee fountains happen! Is that what you wanna show me? Guess doing it on the changing table wasn't enough."

"Yup!" someone laughed behind her. "You are about to see a baby whale."

Vicky turned her head back, noticing a pretty girl a couple years older than her.

"I meant with his little pickle like that we are about to see the baby whale's fountain," the girl explained. "Every boy's favorite pastime."

Both girls burst into laughter, sending hot waves over Jimmy's already red face.

"What an adorable little brother you have!" the girl told Vicky.

"He's just a neighbor. Moved in today."

"So lucky! I don't have cute neighbors like him. What's your name, sweetie pie?"

"Jimmy..." the boy said meekly.

"Great to meet you, little Jimmy! I am Ashley," the girl introduced herself.

"Vicky."

"They are so much cuter when they blush."

"He's very shy."

"Just the way I like my boys."

Ashley moved closer and patted Jimmy's tummy, proceeding to casually flick his willy.

"Gonna make a fountain for us?" she asked Jimmy "Like a baby whale?"

Jimmy tried to cover himself, but Ashley moved his hands away.

"Your favorite toy, huh?" she giggled. "Well, since we are not gonna see a baby whale's fountain, how about jumping out of the water. Whales do it a lot. Wanna try? Can I?"

"Of course," Vicky let her new friend take the boy.

Jimmy frowned at being handed to a complete stranger like a toddler. But Ashley's game turned out to be fun: weightlessness, splashes... No one tossed him in the air like that. Probably not since he was three years old, which he couldn't remember. "Wait a second..." He was being tossed like a toddler. Naked. So they could watch his bouncing willy and make fun of it.

"What's wrong, little one?" Ashley asked the boy. "Why such pouty lips? Tired of jumping? Let's take a break." She held Jimmy in her arms, like he was her son.

Ashley suddenly smiled, enlightened by a new idea.

"Excuse me," she asked one of the moms nearby. "Is that you swimming ring?"

"Yeah, it's ours," the young woman replied.

"You are not using it at the moment, are you? Can I borrow it for five minutes?"

"Sure. Actually... We are about to go back. Just bring it to me after you're done. See that big umbrella?" the woman pointed at the shore.

"The white one?"

"Yep."

"OK. Thanks a lot."

"No problem. Have fun!" the woman smiled, starting to walk towards the beach.

"Let's put him in," Ashley said. "Here we go. Much better. This ring is perfect for him. Not too small. Not too big. Just right."

Vicky smirked noticing Ashley's hand move towards the boy's butt. She knew why her new friend borrowed the ring. Swim rings were very convenient for rendering the boy helpless since he couldn't reach down with his hands or even see what was happening to his lower body and legs.

A lot of different things could happen. Done by the mom, big sister, or babysitter. All the boy could do was helplessly kick his legs while their fingers penetrated his hiney or played with his sensitive package.

"Such a cute round bottom," Ashley caressed Jimmy's butt with her hand, proceeding to grab both of his feet with another one.

Vicky watched her bend Jimmy's legs and bring them up. She knew what was going to happen next.

"Shh! Don't be scared. Here we go."

Vicky felt sorry for Jimmy seeing his surprised and frightened look. But didn't her own finger visit the same place not so long ago? Let Ashley play too.

Little boys lived on the island with their moms, but in reality they belonged to the entire "community". It was customary to let other women, including complete strangers, not only admire the boy naked, but also "pet" him - like someone would pet a cute puppy or kitten.

The problem, at least for Jimmy, was everyone playing with kittens differently. Unlike Vicky who mostly held her finger in his butt, Ashley wasn't gentle at all. She unceremoniously probed around causing extremely unpleasant sensations. Until she found one spot, that instantly made Jimmy's willy super-stiff and sent tingles to the very tip, like he was about to pee. He never felt anything like that before. He couldn't call it pain. Just a very intense and unpleasant sensation.

"He likes you a lot!" Vicky giggled, noticing the state of Jimmy's twig in the clear water.

"I know," Ashley nodded with a smile, "The little fella between his legs can't lie."

The girls laughed, making Jimmy blush upon realizing they were making fun of his pee-pee.

"Oopsie!" Ashley withdrew her finger and quickly reinserted it again, causing Jimmy to shudder and kick his legs. "Love when they do it." She repeated her in and out motion.

Jimmy stifled a cry. The repeating insertions became unbearable, especially when Ashley increased the pace. Vicky didn't like Ashley's ministrations a single bit. Her new friend looked like the kind of babysitter who'd "wiggly" a boy until he faints. Though there was an unwritten code not to interfere unless someone caused your boy real physical pain.

"Could you hold his legs please, so he doesn't kick?" Ashley asked Vicky.

"Why? What you wanna do to him?"

"Check something," Ashley winked at Vicky. "You babysit him, right?"

"Sort of. If changing a pair of wet pants counts as babysitting."

"Did you notice if his foreskin retracts all the way?"

"When I was wiping his willy? Sorry I didn't check. I was busy avoiding his pee spurts."

"I can imagine!" Ashley giggled.

"I guess it does," Vicky shrugged her shoulders. "It should at his age, shouldn't it?

"Let's see. Would you hold him for me please?"

"OK," Vicky took a hold of Jimmy's legs.

"A-aah! Stop! It hurts!" the boy screamed.

"No, it doesn't!" Ashley told him. "Stop fussing!"

"Boys hate having their little hood open."

"Don't I know that? Hold him still... A little more..."

Vicky gauged the distance to the blanket, Jimmy's mom was sitting on. She could barely see her, having walked quite a distance into the shallow lagoon to get to the shoulder-deep water. Vicky wasn't particularly happy with Ashley's manipulations of Jimmy's boy parts, but at least no one would hear his cries. She knew Ashley was doing something naughty... and just let her. She was strangely aroused by her friend's ministrations. What if she prepared Jimmy for the "wigglies"?

"Gotcha!" Ashley smiled with satisfaction. "Super-tight, but fully opens. Don't tell me, you've never done it to a boy."

"I do sometimes. When I bath them. Though I can't do it alone. Someone needs to hold the kid. Boys can't stand even the lightest touch to their little worm, when it's open. Not to mention washing it with soap makes them pee."

"Well, the reaction depends... On where you touch."

"Are you talking about..." Vicky paused, overwhelmed by guilt and excitement. "...wigglies?"

"What else?" Ashley winked at her. "Wait a second... You've never wigglied a single boy you babysat? Want me to show you, how it's done?"

"OK," Vicky nodded shyly.

"Actually... How selfish of me. You should do it. You said he just arrived on the island?"

"Yesterday. Why?"

"With a foreskin this tight... Looks like we've got a virgin. You are his babysitter, so you should pop his cherry. Don't worry, I'll teach you."

Jimmy had no idea what "virgin" and "cherry" meant, but that girl was no doubt planning something horrible. He looked at the shore, trying to find his mom. She seemed so far away.

"Alright..." Ashley looked around, making sure there was no one nearby. "Come here."

She switched places with Vicky.

"First you need to properly anchor him, so he won't float away," Ashley giggled.

"You want me to put a finger..."

"Yes, in there. It'll make things much quicker. Let me hold his legs." Ashley spread and raised Jimmy's legs making him part his buttocks.

Vicky traced her index finger between them, until she found Jimmy's little hole. She felt for the boy, but couldn't help enjoying his frightened look.

"Oops! I did it again!" she forced her finger in.

"Look at him, Ashley giggled, "Wanna call your mommy, little one?"

Vicky kept her finger in Jimmy's butt, awaiting further instructions.

"Turn your finger, so it's pointed forward... Aww, poor baby. Are you gonna cry now? ... And find... I can't really describe it... Feels like a bump."

"I'm not sure. Seems like it..."

"Oh you surely found it!"

"How do you know?"

"Look at his twig."

"Geezus. You mean my finger makes it dance like that?"

"Yep. Keep pressure on his bump. Rub it with your finger. Hold on... Let me grab his legs differently, so I can hold them with one hand."

Ashley crossed Jimmy's ankles and pushed his legs further up and apart. The boy tried to break free, only to feel defeated and vulnerable. Ashley firmly held his legs, while Vicky's finger rhythmically moved inside his butt causing strange tingling at the very tip of his willy.

"You know how many kicking and screaming little boys I've babysat?" Ashley asked Jimmy with a condescending smile. "Stop fighting, and you might actually enjoy it."

Jimmy quivered, feeling the stranger's fingers take a hold of his sensitive willy.

"Still open. Good!" Ashley smiled. "I'm gonna make sure his little buddy's hood stays down. All you need to do is rub the tip."

"I dunno..." Vicky hesitated. "I really wanna try. But what if he tells his mom?"

"Yeah? And what exactly he's gonna tell her? He has no idea what's happening to him. No one's gonna listen to him anyway. Stick to your story. Tell her he sprung a fountain when you played with him and you made sure he thoroughly pees in the water before bringing him back. To avoid accidents when he's lying on the blanket enjoying the sun."

"What if he faints?"

"No one does. Come on. Wigglies are good for boys. Keep rubbing the magic spot in his bum. Now put your other hand under him and find the pointy nub of his pee-pee."

A jolt surged through Jimmy's body, like someone touched his willy with an electric wire.

"Don't worry, I'm holding his legs. He's not going anywhere. Start rubbing the tip."

"His pee slit?"

"Yeah. Apply some pressure. Try to open it a little. Good! Move a little lower and rub the tiny bridle underneath the slit. But not the top of his nub, or he'll pee. Come on, girl. Work it a little harder. I can tell by his strained pickle, we're almost there. And don't stop rubbing the bump in his butt. Do you feel him tighten his little hole around your finger."

"Oh yeah."

"Ah-ha-ha. Let's start the countdown. 5, 4, 3, 2..."

Jimmy sharply exhaled and kicked his legs, still firmly held by Ashley.

"Holy shit!" Vicky gasped. "His whole body is shaking. And the hole. Is it supposed to pulsate like that? Is that the wigglies?"

"Congratulations! I wish I could take a picture. Both of you look so funny now. You're as surprised, as him."

"Well, if I knew what to expect..."

"Now you know. By the way, keep wigglying him."

"Isn't he like... done already?"

"Id doesn't matter. You can wiggly him as long, as you want. Preteen boys don't produce any... hmm, milk, so they can be kept in this state for a very long time. Give him another one. Did his hole start to pulsate again?"

"Not yet. But I think... Oh my gosh, this time it's even more intense. He's like having a seizure."

"Gets better with every time, huh? Though the real fun actually starts right after the wigglies."

"What do you mean?"

"Try to touch the top part of his nub now. Just touch. Don't rub it yet."

"Oh my gosh! Is he peeing? From a single touch. I feel something warm."

"The wigglies make boys extremely sensitive to tickle. Try to rub the same spot now."

"The one above his slit?"

"Yes."

"Gezus! He's going to jump out of the water. And is obviously peeing again."

"Now that's what I call fun! You can also tickle his balls, you know."

"You read my mind," Vicky's fingers touched Jimmy's shriveled sack, instantly making the boy release a stream of pee. "Unbelievable. I can't even touch him, that sensitive he is. I gotta stop. Seriously. I don't want him to pass out."

"Trust me, he's far from passing out. He never will if you alternate: tickling different spots. The exposed nub... Here you go. Now his jewels... Behind them - every boy's most vulnerable spot... Poor baby! Pee some more for us... The lower tummy is pretty sensitive too... Good boy! You just love peeing, don't you? A li-itle more. All done? Rub his pee slit to see if anything comes out. Did you feel him peeing? No? Let's cover it then."

"Geez, Ashley, we really drained him. And look how he's shaking. Poor Jimmy. It's over, baby. No more tickling... Well, until you need to tinkle again. Which I am sure your mom is gonna make you do soon."

Vicky removed her finger from Jimmy's butt and carefully freed him of the swimming ring, immediately taking the boy in her arms. She held him under his butt, making the boy wrap her waist with his legs: still shaking with his stiff willy poking her stomach.

The tingling inside Vicky's crotch was unbearable. She wouldn't mind if someone wigglied her too.

"Stand still, girl," Ashley asked her suddenly. "And spread your legs a little... You know, for better balance, since you are holding someone so heavy."

Older and more experienced Ashley seemed to read Vicky's mind.

"He's not heavy at all," Vicky argued "Especially in the water."

"Shh! You need better balance anyway."

"OK," Vicky giggled, getting a clue. "But what if he..."

"Don't worry. Just stand still and hold your precious bundle of joy."

Jimmy was curious about Ashley's ministrations behind his back, but Vicky made him rest his head on her shoulder. Now he couldn't even see her face to guess what was going on. At least Ashley wasn't doing it to him.

Vicky found Jimmy's little hole and started to caress it with her finger, occasionally stroking his balls. She kept doing it, making him squirt warm liquid into her stomach, while Ashley pulled down her bikini bottom and started rubbing her engorged pleasure button.

"A-ah" Vicky groaned.

It took Ashley mere seconds to bring her to climax.

"It's OK, sweetie," Vicky whispered in Jimmy's ear. "Nothing's happened. Oh my gosh... Aaa-ah, I love you so much!"

She tightly hugged the boy.

"Easy, girl," Ashley chuckled. "You'll crush him."

"How... aah... Jimmy, do you know how pretty you are?" Vicky needed to keep talking. Otherwise she'd have completely lost her mind... "You're my favorite little boy in the world."

"Mine too!" Ashley withdrew her finger from the tightened Vicky's slit and pulled her panties up. "Need any help babysitting him?"

"Uhm... an extra pair oh hands is always welcome... Especially such skilled hands. You know, I can also try..."

"Not right now. His mom is probably wondering where you are. And that nice lady is waiting for her son's swimming ring. I'll call you, OK?"

Vicky felt Ashley's smartwatch bump against hers, followed by a soft confirmation tone of the exchanged contact info.

"Let's do something fun tomorrow."

"Sounds good. And... thanks again. That was very... educational."

"I can teach you a lot of things about little boys. Have you ever played a "machine gun" with one?"

"What?"

"A machine gun. His cute bum would be perfect for it. Clean him up with a couple of enemas and stuff his hole with a dozen of grapes or cherries. Dipped in shampoo or liquid soap. Keep him like this for a minute: on his back with the legs up in the air. Buns tightly pressed together."

"Until I see he like really needs to go?"

"Yeah. Wait until he cannot take it anymore and tickle his balls. And right when he starts peeing... simply release his butt. He'll shoot the grapes out of it. Really far."

"I can imagine!" Vicky giggled.

"I'll teach you. You can't call yourself a babysitter until you played it with your boys. Gotta go now! Bye, little angel!" Ashley patted Jimmy's butt. "And you, pretty girl. It's so unfair, you got such a cutie living next door."

"Bye, Ashley!"

Ashley took the swim ring and headed towards the big white umbrella on the beach.

Vicky went ashore too, returning Jimmy to his mom. The boy did try to complain about the unpleasant ministrations he endured in the water, but Ashley was right: no one believed him. Vicky calmly told her story: how she met Ashley and they played with Jimmy, splashing the water and tossing him in the air. Until he peed.

"You mean when he was out of the water?" Laura winced. "Like... on you?"

"On Ashley."

"Did you do it on purpose?" Laura asked her son after giving him a loud smack on his bare butt.

"I didn't!" Jimmy burst out in tears. "She's lying!"

"Couldn't you tell Vicky you needed to tinkle? So she'd take you to the bushes?" Laura continued, completely ignoring her son's cries. "What did I teach you today? Always tell adults when you need to pee and poop."

Jimmy wept and tried to argue, but his fed up mother just slapped his butt again to shut him up.

"It wasn't bad, you know," Vicky said, trying to diffuse the situation. "Little boys always do it in the water. I just positioned him away from me and made sure he pees everything out. I tried to be gentle, but considering how ticklish he is... Boys don't like that kind of help: to do their potty business."

"That's it? That's what he's complaining about?" Laura sighed. "Being made to pee?"

"Yeah," Vicky nodded. "He's probably upset, that Ashley helped a bit too."

"Should have thanked Vicky and her friend for making you do your little boy's business at the appropriate time," Laura told Jimmy. "So you won't wet anything here."

She turned to Vicky.

"I'm so sorry about him, honey. How can I possibly thank you for taking such a good care of my son?"

Jimmy couldn't believe his mom take the mean girl's side. No one believed him here. He was nothing, but a mindless toddler even to his mom. No one listens to toddlers.

"Let's help Danny build his sand castle," Vicky told Jimmy, pulling his hand. "Are these yours?" She pointed at the brightly colored plastic bucket and shovel. "Come on!"

Vicky took Jimmy to the two year old poking the sand with his tiny shovel.

"Alright... Fill your bucket, Jimmy," she told the eight year old boy. "Show Danny what he needs to do. That's it. He got it. Stay here. I'm gonna bring some water."

Jimmy was still upset at Vicky, not to mention embarrassed of being naked, but her sweet smile quickly made him forget the terrible things she did to him in the water. The castle turned out great. Vicky knew a thing or two about building them.

"Look at these two cuties!" Jimmy suddenly heard behind his back.

He looked up, noticing two 12 year old girls staring at him.

"So adorable! Let me snap a picture."

One of the girls took a step back and pointed her phone at Jimmy, prompting him to cover his boy parts.

"What did your mommy tell you about touching your pee-pee?" Vicky forcibly moved Jimmy's hands away from his crotch.

"Aww, look at him blush!" the girl on the left smiled, making Jimmy's face redder. "Is your brother always that shy? The little one doesn't seem to mind."

"Is that OK if I take pictures of them?" the one holding her phone asked Vicky.

"Sure!" Vicky nodded. "Take as many, as you want. Come here, Danny. And you, Jimmy... Where is your smile? You were so happy building this castle. What happened, honey? Come on. Everybody say cheese!"

Vicky made both boys pose for pictures. The giggling 12 year old wasn't satisfied, until she took several.

"Could you make his little brother stand next to him? How about making both of them get on all four? Make them arch their backs and stick their cute bums out. Perfect! Let me find the right angle... Legs apart, so I can catch their cute pink packages... Oh my gosh! Look! The little one's got a stiffie. So cute! Lay him on his back. Yeah, like that, so his tiny thing is pointing straight up. Thanks! I bet this one will get a hundred thousand likes."

Jimmy felt like his face was on fire. Seemed like the requests to turn left and right, stick out his tummy, and present his willy would never stop.

"Wanna shoot a video too?" Vicky asked with a hint of sarcasm.

"Can I?"

"Of course. It'll probably get a million likes... What do you want them to do?"

"Could they like..." the girl paused for a couple of second, thinking. "…jump up and down?"

"Jimmy! Come here and show Danny how to jump. Come on! Just jump! Hey! Did you hear what I tell you? I wonder if Ashley has left already. Maybe we can go for a swim again..."

"Who's Ashley?" the girl on the left wondered, noticing a frightened look in Jimmy's eyes.

"A friend," Vicky said casually. "So... Are you gonna jump or we're going for a swim? Here you go!"

"So funny!" the other girl giggled, keeping her phone pointed at the jumping boys. "Look at their bouncing willies!"

"I didn't tell you to stop!" Vicky raised her voice, looking at Jimmy. "Would you clap your hands every time you jump? Yeah, like that. Good boy!"

"Can they squat and do a duck walk?" the girl with a phone asked. "Make a pass around their castle?"

"You heard the girl, Jimmy!" Vicky pushed on the boy's shoulder, making him squat. "You too, Danny. That's my boy! Now walk like little ducklings."

"Oh my gosh! Too funny!" the girl with a phone burst in laughter. "The best video ever! That's enough, boys. You can get up now." She turned to Vicky. "Thank you so much for letting me take pictures and video of your little brothers."

"They are not."

"Nephews?"

"Nope. I'm just watching them at the beach."

"I see. What's your email? I'll send you a link to my album. By the way, I am Bianca." the girl with a phone introduced herself."

"Sabrina," her friend smiled.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Vicky."

"So you are babysitting them?" Sabrina asked Vicky.

"Helping his mom." Vicky nodded at Jimmy. "Mostly in the wet pants department."

"You're talking about the younger one, right?" Bianca gave Vicky a confused look.

"Nope, this one," Vicky pointed at Jimmy.

"How old is he? Like seven?"

"Eight."

"And still wets his pants?" Bianca stifled a giggle.

"He did two hours ago," Vicky confirmed. "Right in front of me. Then peed several times when I was changing him."

"Seriously? An eight year old?"

"Boys do it quite often," Vicky told the two girls. "Gotta stay alert when changing one."

"I know," Bianca giggled. "Baby boys love peeing during diaper changes. So cute watching them squirt."

"Want me to give you a call next time I need to change his wets pants? So you can come and shoot a video of him peeing on the changing table."

All three girls burst in laughter.

"I may actually take you up on that," Bianca told Vicky.

"Can I come too?" Sabrina asked. "Wanna see it so bad!"

"An eight year old peeing up all over himself?" Bianca giggled. "Would be so funny."

"It is. But considering you need to wipe him again... everything he sprayed: the legs, butt, tummy, not to mention his boy package... With a high possibility of another pee fountain, when you start putting the diaper rash cream on his balls and willy... A lot of work, you know."

"Why boys give their moms and babysitters so much trouble?" Sabrina sighed. "Did he try to get you with he? On purpose?"

"At that age? Are you kidding me?" her friend giggled. "Of course he did it on purpose."

"I've babysat a few older than him," Vicky told the girls. "Nine and even ten year olds. It's like a game to them."

"Wait a second... Are you saying you changed them? Because they wet themselves?"

"You have no idea. Several accidents daily. Including messy ones."

"Eeew!" both 12 year olds giggled in mock disgust.

"You're gonna see it a lot around here." Vicky smiled. "When did you come to Arianna's?"

"A week ago. Why? Is it that obvious?"

"Yeah. By your lack of tan." Vicky lied to the girls with a sweet smile.

Tan had nothing to do with spotting FOPs (Fresh Off the Plane): naïve 12 year olds, who typically came during the summer break to get enough time to settle on the island before the middle school start in September. Which was the first time some of the new arrivals learned about the "correction". Though the majority typically discovered the specific "boy reflexes" on their own.

Vicky didn't want to ruin the 12 year olds surprise. It was an unwritten code among the older girls to never explain the ETB program to the fresh arrivals, robbing them of the fun of discovering things on their own.

"Boys are notoriously difficult to potty train. Even at that age," Vicky sighed matter-of-factly. "I do my best to get my kids to pee and poop in the potty."

"So... did he get you when you were changing him?" Bianca nodded at Jimmy.

"With his pee? I know better than stand in the "splash zone"! And it's easy to tell, when a boy is about to spring a fountain. Just watch for the signs, and even the most conniving little sprayer won't take you by surprise."

"What signs?" Bianca wondered.

"They always strain their little pickles when they are about to pee," Vicky explained, raising Jimmy's flaccid willy with one finger to imitate an erection."

Both 12 year olds giggled, making Jimmy's face red. Vicky smiled with delight. It was war after he complained to his mom. She was determined to make his face much redder. And very skilled at humiliating boys his age.

"Is that your truck?" Bianca kneeled next to Jimmy. "Let's fill it with sand. No, not here. How about over there? It'll be our sand quarry."

She intentionally moved the toy truck away from Jimmy to make him reach for it. Providing her the opportunity to pat his cute round bottom.

"What?" Bianca put on an innocent look after caressing Jimmy's butt. "Fill your truck, sweetie."

Vicky watched the two FOPs with a smile. Sabrina seemed somewhat reserved, while Bianca was completely uninhibited, using every chance to touch the naked boys crawling in the sand around her. She started with patting their butts and poking the tummies, soon letting her fingers explore other interesting spots: mainly between the boys legs. As expected, Jimmy got more attention, than Danny. Every Bianca's touch made a shy eight year old blush, providing endless entertainment for her and Sabrina. Both immensely enjoyed embarrassing him with endless comments about his red face, questions about his wet and messy accidents, and giggling comparisons of his boy bits with Danny's.

It didn't take long for Sabrina to figure out what her friend was doing and she started to play along, touching the boys all over their naked bodies. The truck game turned into crawling around the castle with stops to collect and dump the sand. The girl in front of the boy kept him distracted with "operating" the toy truck, while the one behind quickly snuck up and poked his butt hole or tickled the little sack dangling between the boy's legs, while her friend "accidentally" trapped his hands.

Two year old Danny couldn't understand what the girls were doing to him, but red-faced Jimmy was noticeably upset with their ministrations. The sudden touch always took him by surprise, making him flinch. Bianca even managed to get Jimmy to pass gas by repeatedly poking his little hole with her finger. Jimmy awkwardly apologized, making the girls laugh.

7. The Bushes

"Who are those girls?" Laura wondered, watching her son.

"Vicky always makes new friends at the beach," Monica told her.

"She's so good with kids," Laura commended Vicky's babysitting skills. "Look at them happily play in the sand."

Jimmy wasn't happy at all, but he didn't know what to complain about. Everything around seemed more or less appropriate. For a two years old, like Danny. Which everyone here assumed him to be as well.

"Their moms?" Sabrina asked pointing at the two women approaching the sand castle.

Vicky nodded. "Probably going to take them to the bushes."

"To pee?" Bianca giggled. "About time. Look at their willies."

"I noticed that too," Sabrina said. "That's the sign you were talking about?"

"Yep," Vicky confirmed with a smile. "It means only one thing, when little boys stick out their willies like that."

She had no intention of telling the two FOPs, that it was their tickling of the boys' sensitive balls, that caused Jimmy's and Denny's infantile erections. And surely a strong urge to pee.

"What I thought," Irene smirked, pointing at her son's stiffie. "Let's go to the bushes, honey." She picked up her two year old son and turned to Laura. "I think yours needs to visit the bushes too."

"Don't you think I noticed?" Laura sighed. "Should have taken him there already. A little embarrassing... letting such young girls see him like that."

"Like they haven't seen little boys' stiffies before," Irene laughed. "Come on!"

"Do you need to make tinkles, honey?" Laura asked her son, making his face crimson. "Let's go to the bushes."

"I... don't," Jimmy mumbled.

"Come on!" his mom didn't take a "no" for an answer. "Little Danny is going there too. You'll have fun watering the bushes together."

Jimmy frowned, offended by his mom's babytalk. Couldn't she ask about such private things discreetly? Instead of humiliating him in front of the two new girls.

"Mom! I really don't..." Jimmy tried to keep the conversation neutral: without referring to the infantile activity his mom insisted on.

"Why to even ask him?" Irene gave Laura a frustrated look. "A boy would never tell you until the last moment. Just grab him and go."

"You are right," Laura agreed. "Jimmy! Get up and come with me!"

She yanked his hand, making her son stand up.

"I don't wanna!" Jimmy broke out in tears.

"And I don't want you to pee in the sand other kids may build their castles of," Laura told him. "Or pee your pants again. Stop fussing, honey! You know you need to go number one. You can't make your little buddy lie for you, can you?"

She pointed at his strained willy, making the girls giggle.

"I saw how much you enjoyed playing with your truck. Make your tinkles and return to your game."

"Yes, go with your mommy and make tinkles, little one!" Bianca giggled. "We don't want you to tinkle here, playing with us."

Laura dragged her son by his hand towards the area unofficially designated for little kids potty business, known as "the bushes".

"Don't wanna!" Jimmy kept wailing. "Don't wanna be here! I wanna go home!!"

"We will soon. Another reason why I need you to do your little boy's business: so you won't pee your pants on our way home."

"But I don't need to! Please, mom! I really don't!" the crying boy pleaded.

"Mommies know best, when their little ones need to go potty!" Irene looked back at him with a condescending smile.

A few stifled giggles made Jimmy's face redder. He was at the center of everyone's attention again.

"About time your mom took you to the bushes," a young woman sitting on the blanket nearby told Jimmy.

"Judging by his little twig?" the 16-something girl next to her giggled. "Most definitely!"

"Put your hands away! Stop touching your willy!" Laura smacked her son's hands and then his bare butt, making him cry louder.

The slap was rather loud, than hard, but Jimmy didn't want another one. It was so unfair. What did he do to deserve it? Being humiliated in front of the two girls, marched through a busy beach naked with everyone staring at his stiffie... and now spanked on his bottom like a fussy toddler.

The worst was yet to come. He knew his mom was not taking him to a restroom. But he expected more or less normal "bushes" one could hide behind. Not a few patches of tall grass, that barely covered his knees.

"So those are the bushes," Laura chuckled. "Should he make his tinkles on one of them?"

"It's a bit more civilized than that," Irene explained with a smile. "The kids do their business into that concrete trench. Then you turn on the water to wash the stuff away."

"A toilet of sorts. Come here, Jimmy."

"Mom, I don't nee...."

"You do and you will!" Laura cut him off. "I don't wanna hear another word from you. Stand here, at the edge of the trench. Nuh-uh! No covering and no touching anything between your legs! I'm gonna aim your pee-pee."

She took a hold of her son's tiny twig pointing it into the trench.

"Now be a good boy and do your tinkles."

Jimmy blushed a brighter shade of red. Did she seriously expect him to pee on command? Talking to him like a mindless toddler? While holding his willy? As if standing naked in front of her and quite a few other moms wasn't bad enough.

"Pss, pss... Come on, Jimmy! Look at little Danny. He's already peeing. I thought it'd be you showing a two year old how big boys do it."

"I thought so too," Irene snickered at Jimmy. "Instead of the little one teaching yours how to pee. Let's show him, Danny, shall we?"

Irene repositioned Danny in her arms and gently tickled the back of his boy's sack, instantly making him squirt pee out of his willy.

"That's my boy!" she praised her two year old son.

"Maybe I should hold Jimmy in that position to get the results," Laura said. "Not like you though: holding just one of Danny's legs. Looks so funny: letting him kick it while he pees."

"Quite a secure hold for toddlers," Irene explained. "A one-hand version of the classic EC hold. A firm grip on the right thigh behind the knee, pushing his leg all the way up. Supporting his back against my torso. He can't move his body at all. Now, if I wanted him to do number two, I'd have held both of his legs. While squatting down all the way: making his butt hang between my legs, inches from the ground."

"That's what I'm gonna do," Laura got behind her son. "Bend your knees, Jimmy."

"But mom!"

"I gave you a chance to do your tinkles standing up, like a big boy. Since you refused, you must want to be held like a baby, with your bottom hanging down."

She wrapped her left arm around Jimmy's chest and put the right one behind his knees, proceeding to pick him up in one smooth motion.

"Definitely heavier than a two year old," Laura told Irene. "But not as bad, as I expected. Let's just get lower to the ground."

Laura slowly squatted, placing her son's naked body between her legs. She adjusted Jimmy's knees, spreading them apart, both bent up against his chest and wrapped by her right arm.

"Pss-pss..." Laura used her free hand to feel the tender sack hanging between her son's legs. "Every mommy knows how to make her little one tinkle. Right, honey? Are you gonna make pee-pees for mommy?"

Laura stroked the sensitive area behind Jimmy's balls, making him buck wildly in her arms. It wasn't working. An eight year old was strong enough to knock her down by furiously kicking, squirming, and arching his back pressed against her chest. She needed to hold him with both hands.

"Can't get him to pee?" Laura heard Vicky's voice behind her back.

She smiled noticing her son flinch and turn red at the sound of the girl's voice. To his dismay Vicky brought the girls, who played with him in the sand earlier.

"That's how little ones do their potty business around here?" Bianca giggled, jumping over the trench - followed by Sabrina.

Both now stood in front of Jimmy on the other side of the trench, gazing at his crotch. Beet-red with shame, he wanted to disappear in the thin air. No way he'd pee while they are watching.

"Come on, little one, make your tinkles." Sabrina smirked.

"He seems to have forgotten what that little spigot between his legs is for," Bianca giggled pointing at Jimmy's crotch.

"Let's try again," Laura said, reaching behind her son's balls.

Jimmy kicked his legs and arched his back, making her stop, afraid to lose her balance.

"Keep still Jimmy!" she raised her voice. "And do your little boy's business already! Makes me wonder too, if you've forgotten how to pee."

"Why don't you hold him with both hands," Vicky suggested. "And I'll get him to tinkle."

"Thanks!" Laura repositioned Jimmy between her legs grabbing both of his thighs and spreading them as wide, as she could.

"Nice view!" Bianca giggled.

"How are you gonna make him pee?" Sabrina asked Vicky.

"I'll ask him nicely," Vicky replied with a smug smile, ripping two thick pointy leaves off of a shrub-looking plant behind Laura. "I mean I'll let these two leafs do the talking." She winked at Jimmy's mom.

Laura braced herself for Jimmy's kicking and bucking. Having witnessed Vicky's expert tickling skills, she knew what kind of agony the 14 year old girl is capable of causing her son with the two leaves.

"Tinkle time!" Vicky announced enthusiastically, squatting by Laura's side.

She traced the back of Jimmy's ballsack with the pointy tip of one leaf, making the boy tremble.

"How about a nice baby boy's fountain?" Vicky added the second leaf, poking and teasing the tiny opening in the wrinkled hood covering the tip of the boy's willy: instantly erupted with a stream of pee. "Here we go! Don;t I know how you like to show off your peeing skills?"

The two 12 year olds stood with their mouths agape, watching the leaves dance all over the boy's shriveled sack, causing new convulsive bursts out of his willy.

"Did you just... tickle him?" Bianca wondered, having regained her ability to speak.

"Yeah... Boys his age are very sensitive. All it takes to get one to pee is knowing his most ticklish spots. The back side of his little sack... See? And the area behind it... Coochie-coochie-coo!"

"Never seen a boy pee that hard!" Bianca pointed her phone at Jimmy. "Make him pee again. Aww! It is so, so cute, when a little boy springs a fountain! Gonna be an epic video!"

"Is it just their balls?" Sabrina asked. "I saw you tickling his willy too."

"The little pickle is also very sensitive," Vicky explained. "Mainly the tip."

She took a hold of Jimmy's willy and started to rapidly scratch its tip with the leaf, resulting in more convulsive peeing.

"And of course the hole he pees from" the girl pushed the pointy leaf tip into Jimmy's willy and started twirling it left and right.

"Aaaaaah!" Jimmy let out an anguished cry, shaking and kicking his legs, as he involuntarily strained and squirted several hard bursts of pee.

Laura was getting tired of holding her son, though she decided to allow the girl to continue her ministrations. Jimmy needed to learn his lesson.

"Let's not forget the other hole. It's extremely sensitive too. Watch!" Vicky withdrew the leaf from the boy's willy and used it to tease his anal opening.

Jimmy responded with a loud fart, making the two 12 year olds giggle.

"Would you like me to take care of the number two as well?" Vicky asked his mom. "Since you brought him here."

"Worth a try," Laura nodded.

"Gonna tickle him too?" Bianca giggled. "Until he poops?"

"Yeah. Just not with those leaves."

Vicky looked around and picked up a tiny twig with a bud.

"Wish I had shampoo or shower gel."

"My mom bought some on our way here," Sabrina told Vicky.

"Could you ask her? I just need a few drops."

"OK," Sabrina went to her mom, returning in a minute with a bottle of shower gel."

"Now we're in business," Vicky grinned, pouring a drop of the thick pinkish liquid on her finger. "Let's thoroughly lubricate his little hole first. See, how it puckers at the slightest touch? So sensitive... Alright, that's enough. All you need to do now is work his hole with some tool," Vicky explained to the girls, lubricating the twig with the shower gel. "In and out... With a twist... Let's twirl it a bit more... Withdraw and insert again... Poke and tickle his poopie hole..."

"Look at him wiggle his bum! Are you still shooting your video, Bianca?"

"Yep! Waiting for the big moment."

"Get ready!" Vicky winked at Bianca.

She kept poking and tickling Jimmy's butt hole with a twig, using her other hand to tickle his balls. That was the last straw. Jimmy shuddered and squirted a jet of pee, followed by loud pooping.

"Finally," Vicky sighed with a satisfied smile. "Wonder is that was it."

Vicky poked the boy's hole again, making him poop more. The prolonged stimulation made him completely lose control of his bladder and bowels.

"Got that?" Vicky asked Bianca, laughing.

"On video? Of course. Is he done?"

"Let's see," Vicky pressed the twig bud to Jimmy's hole and started twirling it, making the boy shudder and kick his legs. "Looks like he is," she concluded after a minute of poking and twirling. "Though he didn't squirt any pee out of his little spigot. That's typically the sign, that a boy's done pooping."

"You can make him," Sabrina shrugged her shoulders.

"Yeah, let's make sure he's emptied his bladder. Boys never do... without help. I'm gonna use my fingers this time... Tickle-tickle-tickle... Good boy! I knew you saved some pee for us. How about another spurt? Here we go!"

Vicky picked up the bottle of shower gel and poured some in her hand.

"Shower gel and liquid soap are great for tickling little boys balls too," she explained to the girls. "They make the tickle worse."

She cupped Jimmy's shriveled sack with her soapy hand and started playing with his tiny balls.

"Look at that fountain! Now we are really trying!"

"Isn't he shaking too much?" Sabrina wondered. "Looks like some sort of seizure."

"Seizure or not, you always need to completely drain the boy's bladder," Vicky explained, mercilessly tickling Jimmy's balls. "Alright, looks like he's done with number one too. Let's thoroughly wipe him," she took a baby wipe out of a box conveniently left at "the bushes" by one of the moms. "All done!"

"Thanks, sweetie!," Laura got up and stood her son on the ground, "Gotta admit you handled Jimmy much better, than me today. I'm sorry. I'm a little new to this whole EC thing."

"No problem. Let me hose his stuff into the trench."

"Thanks again!" Laura took Jimmy's hand and started walking towards the showers.

She took her time thoroughly rinsing her son, trying her best to clean him up without soap. He needed a full bath, which Laura was anxiously looking forward to: the moment Jimmy learns about the public bathing - by someone other than her.

"Wish I could stay with you, girls, a bit longer," Laura told her new friends upon returning to them, "Need to do some shopping. Come here, Jimmy. Let's get you dressed."

Jimmy let out a sigh of relief. Finally! They were leaving the worst beach in the world.

"Say goodbye to everyone!" Laura instructed her son. "And thank Vicky for taking a good care of you."

"Thank you, Vick... Miss Vicky!"

"You are still going to attend the bath?" Monica asked Laura.

"Of course I am. He does need it after the beach."

"Just making sure. Bye!"

Laura took Jimmy's hand, heading to the bus stop.

"We're so lucky to live on a tropical island, honey," she told him once they boarded the bus. "Which means either me or your babysitter will be taking you to the beach daily, if the weather permits. I know it's hard to adjust to the new environment at your age, but you need to accept certain things. And start doing what you're told. Especially when it comes to your potty business. I love you, baby, but my patience is running low. Don't test it again."

8. Happy Shopping

"Mermaid Lagoon Galleria" the bus voice announced.

Laura pressed the stop button and took Jimmy's hand. They got off the bus and entered the huge mall.

"How about ice cream?" Laura pointed at the ice cream shop. The question was rather rhetorical, especially asked to an eight year old.

They went in and Laura got her son a generous three-scoop portion with all imaginable toppings: sprinkles, chocolate chips, gummy bears, and pretty much anything else available there. She also bought him a large decaf Pepsi.

Jimmy was astounded by his mom's generosity. The ice cream was the first good thing that happened to him on the island since they arrived yesterday. What gives? She never let him drink Pepsi or Coke. Perhaps she was trying to make up for the horrible things that happened to him at the beach.

Laura did want to see her son happy: once in a while, between the mortifying accidents and other embarrassing situations the ETB program required her to put him in. Treats like ice cream and soda drinks were a win-win, taking the edge off Jimmy's non-stop humiliation, while setting up his "pottytunities". She watched her son gulp down his soda, knowing quite well where it'd end up.

She was thinking up her next move. No restrooms for little boys on this island. Which left her two choices. To lay him down on one of the changing tables in the mall's hallway and tickle him to pee. Or to walk to a nice crowded spot at the first sign of his urge to wet, and stay there for a few minutes watching him struggle, until he pees himself in front of the giggling teenage girls. Maybe he'd mess his pants too. Would be so much fun to watch his face change different shades of red. Scold him of course, prompting the bystanders to make humiliating remarks. And proceed to change him right there, on the nearest bench, in front of the same giggling "audience": entertaining it with a few pee fountains.

Whatever she was going to subject Jimmy to, one thing was certain: he'd be ready for his next "pottytunity" or accident in about 30-40 minutes - she planned to spend visiting the mall stores, while keeping an eye on her son for fidgeting and other signs of discomfort.

"All done?" Laura picked up the tray to empty it into the trash bin. "Let's go, honey. We have some shopping to do."

They left the ice cream shop and walked towards the huge kids store. Laura chuckled, knowing, that her son wouldn't like anything there. Not even the toys. Though she couldn't help teasing him.

"Look at all these toys!" she smiled enthusiastically. "Anything you like, honey? How about this ring stacker?"

"Mom!" Jimmy gave her a frustrated look. He didn't like her joke.

"What? I thought you'd like it," Laura put on an innocent smile.

Jimmy knew better than pointing out, that all of the crude brightly colored plastic things in front of him were for toddlers. And labeled accordingly: "Ages 1-3". Couldn't she see that?

"Alright, you've got enough toys at home. Let's get other things." Laura said, taking her son's hand.

The realization of where she was taking him, made Jimmy blush. Please no! Not the diaper section!

"Hmm... so many choices," Laura chuckled, feeling Jimmy desperately trying to jerk his hand out of hers.

He definitely did not want to be seen with her in this section, shopping for diapers.

"These seem to be your size," she teased her red-faced son. "Boy's diapers. Age: 7-8... What? Why you are looking at me like that. It's not a typo. They say "years", not "months". And you do need diapers at the age of eight, don't you? Do you like them, honey? So cute: Winnie the Pooh and the Piglet... No? How about these: with cars and trucks. Alright... Since you can't decide, why don't we buy both? See which ones fit you better."

"Is he a heavy wetter?" a cute 18-something girl in the store uniform stopped by. "These are light to medium duty. They may leak if he floods them at once."

"Really?" Laura was enjoying Jimmy's red face.

"There are different kinds of diapers depending on the child's wetting habits. Some kids wet as soon, as they feel the urge to pee, while many, especially boys, try to hold it for as long, as they can, before soaking the diaper."

"Definitely his case: holding until the last second."

"Then he'd be better off wearing these," the girl handed Laura a different pack. "How often he wets himself during the day?"

"About every hour according to his hospital's wetting and messing chart," Laura recalled.

"Oh my!" the girl shook her head. "I thought he'd be somewhat potty-trained by... eight?"

"Don't even start..." Laura sighed, playing along.

She had a crush on that blue-eyed button-nosed angel, who seemed to enjoy embarrassing eight-year old boys as much, as she did.

"Get these too. They are great at nighttime," the girl handed Laura another pack, "By the way, you can have him try them on if you are unsure about the fit."

"You let customers try disposable diapers on their kids?"

"Of course. Like any clothes," the girl shrugged her shoulders. "Except we obviously discard the diaper after."

"I'm not an environmentalist, but seems like a waste."

"Most moms wouldn't let a free sample go to waste," the store girl winked at Laura.

"Are you serious? You mean they like... have the kid test drive a diaper?" Laura laughed.

"Fine with us. It's going into the diaper pail anyway. Why not check it in action to make sure it won't leak?"

Jimmy stood frozen in disbelief. Trying on a diaper? Could it get any more humiliating?

"Let me check if we have the samples of these," the girl said.

She went to the row of changing tables by the store entrance and opened a few drawers.

"Ran out," she told Laura, returning to her. "No problem, I'll open a new pack." She took one from the shelf. "Come with me. Sorry, you'll have to wait for a couple of minutes, since all changing tables are occupied."

Jimmy gasped, realizing where moms had their kids try on diapers and regular clothes. The store did not have a single fitting room. Boys his age were simply lifted on a changing table and undressed in front of everybody like toddlers. Somewhat OK to try on a t-shirt, but not their ridiculous tight pants worn without underwear. Not to mention diapers.

"It's only going to be a couple of minutes," the girl asked Laura, "I wish we had one more changing table to diaper him on."

Laura was mulling on the idea of "test driving" a diaper. Would be fun, but it'd spoil her grand plan of staging a humiliating accident. And how she'd make her son wet the diaper? By tickling his tummy? Sides? Feet? Since she'd have no access to the most ticklish spots between his legs.

"How would I make him wet the diaper?" she asked the girl.

"You mean without tickling his boy parts? There are several ways. I am sorry, you seem to be new to this."

"That obvious, huh?" Laura chuckled. "There's a lot to learn indeed."

"Everyone knows, that scrotal tickling makes little boys pee," the girl started to explain. "But it's not the only way to make a boy let go. You can apply a special ointment to the inside of the urethral opening: easy to do with a q-tip even if your son's foreskin doesn't fully retract yet. Insert the cotton tip just a tiny bit and twirl. You'd only have a couple of seconds after that to pull up his diaper, before he floods it."

"Do you sell that ointment?"

"Yes, at the infant care section. Gotta warn you though. It causes the mild irritation of the urethra, resulting in an unbearable urination urge. I'll make him completely lose bladder control for the next couple of hours: wetting every few minutes. Which typically requires diapers, though some moms and babysitters use such ointment as a punishment, taking a boy for a walk or making him do physical exercises, while peeing his pants non-stop. Another popular application is nighttime swaddling, typically with laxative suppositories to make the boy wet and mess himself all night long."

"Very interesting."

"Do you really want your son wetting himself for the next two-three hours? I'd just use a tickling butt plug to make him soak a diaper. You're welcome to buy one to use at home, though we provide them to diaper testers at no charge."

The girl reached into her pocket and took out a strange rubber device. It resembled a fish skeleton with a large conic "head", thin bristle-covered "spine" and the split "tail", full of longer bristles.

"We call it a fishy," the girl explained. "You can guess, where the head goes. Once in, expand it by pulling on the tail. Prevents the kid from pushing it out of his hiney. Point it forward, making sure the tail rests on the scrotal sack, and pull the diaper over it. It turns on and off with a remote..."

She showed Laura a tiny remote, pressing the red button, which made the "fish" buzz and flop in her hand.

"The tail bristles tickle the back and underside of the boy's sack, while these..." the girl touched the fish "spine", "...stimulate the sensitive area between his balls and the anus. Resulting in almost instant urination. By the way, it doesn't need to be a diaper..."

"I was thinking the same thing," Laura winked at the girl. Wet accidents with a press of a button. At some busy public place. Would be so funny.

"Wanna give it a try? Test his diapers in action?"

"Maybe some other time, when there is no wait. I can return diapers if they don't fit, can't I?"

"Of course."

"Thank you so much for your help!"

"No problem."

Jimmy let out a sigh of relief, having just dodged a bullet.

"Let's go, mom!" he anxiously pulled on her blouse. He couldn't wait to leave the diaper section.

"Just a second, honey," Laura pretended to check her phone messages.

Curious to see the "fishy" in action, she wanted to watch a diaper "test drive", as they stood fairly close to the changing tables.

"Who's gonna flood his diaper first: yours or mine?" a teenage girl winked at another one standing by the next changing table.

"Let's find out," her slightly younger friend giggled.

Both looked like babysitters to Laura. She watched them expertly place the tickling "fish" in their boys bottoms before pulling up the front of the diaper and fastening the tabs. Certainly wasn't their first "test drive". Maybe they came to the store just for that, pretending to buy diapers for their nine year old boys. Why she was deprived of such fun when she was 14? These girls were so lucky to live here.

"Should we keep them on their backs?" one of the girls wondered.

"Let's stand them up," the other one suggested. "The only way to test if the diaper leaks."

They helped their boys get up and asked the attendant girl for spreader bars. Having attached those to the boy's ankles, each girl lifted his arms, holding them with one hand. The other one held the remote.

"Ready! Set! Go!" the girls giggled, hitting the red buttons.

The boys started to shake and dance on the table. It was so funny to watch them struggle: twisting and wiggling in a desperate attempt to free their hands. The spreader bars kept them from squeezing their thighs to stop the "fish" flopping behind their sensitive balls.

"I win!" the girl on the left announced pointing at her boy's rapidly expanding diaper.

"Big deal...Started peeing a second sooner, than mine" the other one put down the remote and felt the front of her boy's diaper with her hand."Let's see who wets more."

Laura felt the familiar tingling in her crotch. Little boys don't necessarily need to be naked to entertain their moms and babysitters. Just watching their red faces was such an unbelievable turn-on. Not just for her. She noticed a few moms stop to watch the fierce diaper wetting too.

The girls kept holding their boys for almost five minutes. Laura was sure both already stopped peeing and just endured dry bladder contractions. Though one never knows, when it comes to boys. There always seemed to be some trick to make one squirt a few drops of pee out of his tiny spigot.

"Going for the record?" the attendant girl smiled sarcastically. "I told you they won't leak."

"Just making sure." one of the teenage girls replied.

"Look!" the store attendant put her hand under one of the boy's diapers. "You can squeeze it as hard, as you can, and nothing will happen."

She squeezed the wet diaper, making the boy groan of extreme discomfort.

"The manufacturer stands behind its no-leak guarantee." the attendant girl continued, doing the same thing to the other boy.

"Let's go," Laura took her son's hand. The diaper show was over, and she could continue her shopping.

They walked up to the infant care counter.

"Could I have those bottles," she asked the girl behind the counter. "All three: the red, yellow, and blue. Thanks... And that green sippy cup. Yeah, the one with monkeys."

Jimmy tried to free his hand. He couldn't bear the counter girl's condescending smile. And everyone around watching his mom buying that stuff... for him. Baby bottles? What's next? A pacifier? He traced his mom's gaze and turned redder.

"You have quite a selection of pacifiers," she told the girl. "Are they available in all sizes?"

"Of course," the girl nodded. "What's he? Eight? That'd be size five here."

"Thanks. Which ones you like, sweetie? I think this green one looks the best. So cute. And this blue one with the yellow ducky. Why don't we buy both?"

She waited for the girl to hand her the pacifiers.

"Thanks. Wanna put it in your mouth, sweetie? No? OK."

Laura walked along the counter, stopping by the section with special liquid soap, suppositories, anal stimulators, and other tools to induce the bowel movement. She chuckled at several electric toothbrushes. If it wasn't for the nurse's demonstration at the hospital, she'd have definitely wondered who put them next to the bulb enema syringes and rectal thermometers.

Jimmy's heart sunk, when he saw his mom buy quite a few of the scary looking devices.

"That seems to be all, we needed to buy," Laura told him.

She looked at her watch. It's been 20 minutes since Jimmy drunk the two large cups of soda. Stall him at the mall for another 10? Until his "big moment"?

9. The Star of the Show

"Hey! What's happening over there?" she noticed a commotion at the back of the store.

Laura came closer. It was some kind of a demo. Or class. There was a changing table and another longer one next to it - with an oversized infant bathtub, that could fit a boy like Jimmy. Size aside, the material was a bit unusual: clear plastic.

"I'll have to cancel the class," the early twenties woman taking on her phone, sighed. "Hope he gets better, so we can do it next week. What did the doctor say?"

The woman looked around, stopping her gaze at Jimmy.

"Actually... I've got an idea. I think I can pull it off without Billy. I'm so sorry, sis. Kiss him for me. He'll get well in no time. Bye now!"

She hung up and approached Laura.

"Hi!" she greeted Jimmy's mom. "Did you register online for my infant bath class?"

"Sorry, I didn't."

"It's OK. We have plenty of seats," she nodded at the several rows of chairs. "I was just wondering. Can I ask you a favor?"

"Sure," Laura smiled warmly, knowing what the button nosed cutie was going to ask.

"I'm Sarah," the young woman introduced herself.

"Laura. And this is my son Jimmy."

"How old is he? Seven?"

"Eight."

"Perfect. So sorry to bother you. Is there any chance I can... borrow him for my class? I typically show everything on my three year old nephew. Just found out he's sick. Some kind of flu. Hopefully nothing serious... I was gonna cancel the class, but then saw your son..."

"You wanna bath him?"

"Bath, massage, cut his nails, comb his hair and make him look pretty... Not that such angel needs any help with that. He's absolutely adorable."

"Thanks."

"Please! I'll pay you."

"Absolutely not! I won't take any money from you. He does need a bath. We just went to the beach."

"Mom!"

"Jimmy, adults are talking!"

Laura made her decision. She could stage her son's accidents any time she wanted. It'd be way more entertaining to see him spurt a pee fountain in the hands of a stranger bathing him. Sure, there was another bath for Jimmy in a couple of hours. Nothing's wrong with keeping little boys clean. Especially after visiting the beach. There's no limit on the number of baths, kids can have daily.

"He's all yours," she told the woman. "And if you, sweetie, give Ms.Sarah any trouble, you are going back to the hospital. I am sure nurse Amy will be happy to see you again."

"Did you mean Amy Wilson?" Sarah gave Jimmy a look of pity. "He was in her unit?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"I work at the same hospital."

"So you know her?"

"The whole island does. Look her up online... Now, why would such an angel give me trouble? Show me a little boy who doesn't like bath time. Right, Jimmy? What's your favorite bathtub toy?"

Sarah lifted the boy onto the changing table. Jimmy sat on it, frozen in disbelief. He was so shocked, he couldn't even cry. It didn't seem real. Like a bad dream, one is desperately trying to wake up from. For the second day now.

"Hi! What a cute son you have," one of the women greeted Laura, after she took a seat in the second row.

"Absolutely adorable!" another one added.

Laura looked around. Half of the women that came to the class were pregnant. Average age about 25. Many brought their teenage sisters. There were also a couple of women slightly older than her, in the early thirties. All with 12-13 year old daughters. The kind of audience that guaranteed her son's red face. She couldn't wait for the class to start.

"Thank you for coming to my class today," Sarah addressed the audience. "I'm Sarah Harris. And this little angel's name is Jimmy. He's filling in today for my nephew Billy, typically featured in my online videos. Billy's OK. Just got a little flu."

"Poor baby!" one of the women in the audience sighed.

"You can wish him well online. Just visit my sister's C-Book page. I'm sure she's going to post updates on his condition. Along with a few pictures of the temperature taking."

The audience broke out with giggles.

"Let's give it up for Jimmy and his mother Laura, who allowed me to bath him today. Couldn't wish for a better kid. Little boys don't get prettier than this, do they, ladies?"

Everyone enthusiastically clapped.

"Thank you. Let's begin, shall we?"

Jimmy noticed half of the audience take out their phones to record the class. One woman in the back even had a professional looking camera with a little glowing red light.

"The first step is self-explanatory. You need to undress the child. Raise your arms, sweetie. Here we go." Sarah removed Jimmy's t-shirt. "Now lie down on your back please. Let's move you up. Perfect... It's easier to remove the pants... or diaper, when the kid's lying down. Regardless of his age. Raise his legs to make him lift his bum off the table. And pull the pants down.... Honey, you need to let go of your tights. Does your mommy put you in the bath in them? No? I didn't think so either. Here. Look what I got for you." She showed Jimmy a toy car. "Have you ever seen this car on the street? It's an expensive Italian one. There is a couple on our island."

She pulled the boy's pants down and then completely removed them in one quick motion. Jimmy frowned, holding the toy car in his hands. It was a cool metal toy unlike the ones he saw in this store, but how could he allow being fooled by a toy again? He should have been immune to tricks like that at the age of eight.

"No, honey," Sarah gently, but decisively moved the boy's hands away from his crotch. "No covering. Ain't nothing the ladies here haven't seen before. Where is your yellow car?" She gave Jimmy his car again. "Do you know, that you can open the doors? And the back. Bet you've never seen a car like that: with the engine in the back. I tell you what. Don't drop it again and it's yours. Deal? Honey, you need to hold it with both hands. Here we go. Good boy!"

Sarah repositioned the boy on the changing table to lie across it diagonally.

"The next step takes about five minutes on average, so if you have a large tub to fill, you can turn on the water. I am going to hold off, since he's getting a massage. However before any bath or massage... Anyone wants to tell me what we do after undressing the baby? Yes, sweetie..."

She pointed at a cute 12 year old girl in the first row.

"Make him pee and poop?" the girl giggled.

"You are absolutely right. Being undressed before the bath is a perfect pottytunity. Especially for boys. Hoping, just hoping your little one doesn't pee in the tub. Or worse. You need to always make sure he does his little boy's business before the bath. Both number one and number two."

She raised Jimmy's legs and crossed his ankles, holding them with one hand.

"Potty is out of the question. Even for eight year olds like him," Sarah explained to the audience, pushing a thickly folded diaper cloth under the boy's butt. "First, every second counts. You can't wait for him to make poopies while the bath is being filled. The water would get cold. And second, you need to make sure he emptied his bladder and bowels, which requires two types of stimulation, everyone here is certainly familiar with. Number one is induced by tickling the sensitive scrotal area... Coochie-coochie-coo! Let's show everyone a baby boy fountain... Here we go! Aww, isn't it cute, ladies?"

"Never seen a boy pee that high." one of the teenage girls giggled.

"Though he didn't overshoot the table," a young woman sitting behind her remarked.

"Because his willie is pointing straight up," the 12 year old in the first row said.

Jimmy though his face was going to explode - that hot it was.

"Good observation," Sarah nodded. "No need to hold and aim his pee-pee. And as far, as the intensity, it's just the matter of finding his most ticklish spots. Typically the back of the scrotal sack. And the sensitive area behind it. Keep tickling him until he completely empties his bladder. And for about a minute after that to be sure. See? He's still squirting... You like playing fireman, sweetie? Every little boy does... The lower tummy and the pubic area are very ticklish too. Make sure to use a very light touch. Just glide your fingertips over his tender skin. Here we go: more spurts. Circle around the willy... Amazing sensitivity. I though my three year old nephew responded to the stimulation well, but this one pees from a slight touch. All done, sweetie? Let's take care of the number two then."

She replaced a wet diaper cloth under the boy's butt with a new one.

"There are many tools to induce the bowel movement: from thermometers and enema syringes to ball stimulators. I prefer this," Sarah showed the audience an electric toothbrush and raised Jimmy's legs again. "Needs some lubrication of course. Just a few drops of soap on his little hole... And inside... Lie still, honey..." she twirled her finger inside the boy's butt, quickly withdrew it and showed the audience the baby wipe she used to clean it with. "He definitely needs to poop. We don't want this in the bathtub."

Jimmy was beyond embarrassed. He felt like he died. He wasn't in this world anymore. This island could only exist in some evil parallel universe. Because if those young women and giggling teenage girls watching him helplessly pee like a toddler, were real, the world would have ended...

The excruciatingly tickling touch to his butt hole returned the eight year old boy to reality.

"Gonna make poopies for me?" Sarah asked him sweetly, tickling his sensitive hole with the buzzing toothbrush. "It'd make your tummy feel so much better. Here we go! That's my boy!"

"His tummy should definitely feel better after that!" a pretty pregnant woman said, eliciting a few giggles.

"No kidding!" the one sitting next to her agreed with a condescending smile.

"Does he always poop like that at home? Or he's trying to impress us?" another one asked Laura.

"Responded to the stimulation rather well, didn't he, ladies?" Sarah looked at her audience. "Note, without an enema syringe, stick with balls, or anything else in his bum. By all means, vary your tools. I do use ball simulators and enemas. Not every day though. And honestly I get much better results with a toothbrush."

"You think this is it?"

"Let's find out. Wipe his poopie hole... And tickle it again..." she put the buzzing toothbrush to the boy's butt hole, making him shudder and squirm in a futile attempt to evade the unpleasant touch. "Make sure to firmly hold the kid's ankles. Raising his legs as far, as you can. Like this: his feet should be at the face level. See, how nicely he opened his hole for me? Let's make more poopies, sweetheart. For your mommy and all the nice ladies in the audience. Aww, lookie what we got here! How about another one? Good boy! Let's wipe your bum and repeat..."

Gentle and sweet, Sarah had the determination of a pediatric nurse to turn the boy's bowels inside out. Jimmy wasn't sure who he feared more: mean Amy, who tortured him at the hospital or this pretty woman cooing sweet baby talk to him.

After a few more agonizing minutes of convulsive peeing and pooping, met with condescending remarks and giggles, Jimmy finally saw Sarah put the electric toothbrush away.

"Move here, honey," she told the boy after quickly wiping his butt and crotch. "Let me clean the table."

Sarah covered the changing table with a large towel.

"Roll over onto your tummy, dear. Yes, lie on this towel. Are you ready for your massage?"

She started massaging Jimmy's shoulders. It actually felt good.

"Always allocate enough time for the child's bath, so you can give him a relaxing massage before putting him in a tub," she told the audience. "Start with the shoulders... The back... Arms... Legs. Let's spread them a little wider..."

Jimmy shivered at the tickling touch to his inner thighs. The fingers went higher, briefly stroking his sensitive balls and going between his buttocks.

"Relax your bum, honey. You need to completely let go." Sarah gently tickled the back of the boy's sack with another hand. "That's it. Good boy." Her fingers continued moving up, momentarily stopping to poke the poop hole.

The unexpected touch made Jimmy flinch and pass gas, eliciting giggles from the audience.

"Now all the way down: between the buttocks and along the inside of his legs." she explained. "And up again. Spending a bit more time on this cute round bum... And down again."

The tickling ministrations continued until he involuntarily peed into the towel he was lying on.

"I knew you'd enjoy my massage," Sarah told the red-faced boy with a hint of sarcasm. "Get up!"

She slid her hand between Jimmy's legs cupping his boy package with four fingers, while pressing on his butt hole with a big one.

"Up!" Sarah pulled her hand, making the boy rise until he was on his fours.

Laura was amazed how well that 20-something woman handled her son. Jimmy was visibly distraught, but didn't give her any trouble. What was Sarah's secret? Her sweet, yet assertive tone? The smile she could kill with?

"Turn this way, sweetie," Sarah positioned the boy on the table diagonally, making him present his butt to the audience. "Now bend your elbows and put them on the table. Good boy! Relax your back..." she put her hand on his lower back and pushed down, making him arch his spine. "Good!"

"Quite a sight!" one of the women in the audience said with a gleeful smile.

"Haven't seen such a perfect round bum in a long while," another one remarked.

"Absolute perfection indeed."

"Divine beauty."

"So cute, when they arch their backs and present the bum like that.

"Where such naked angels come from? Heaven?"

"Augusta, Main, United States," Laura told her, trying to keep a straight face.

"You are so, so lucky!"

"Thanks!"

Hasn't she known it already? Let them envy her. Finally... she found a place where her main achievement in life: her beautiful baby boy mattered most. To everyone. Instead of stupid connections and resumes. Laura was admiring her son's naked body too. She could stare at it for hours.

"Spread your legs a bit more, cutie-pie," Sarah continued, patting Jimmy's boy parts to make sure they hang freely between his legs. "No, no, no! Don't get up! Elbows on the table! Keep your back like this: completely relaxed. These buns too."

Sarah poured a generous amount of baby oil down Jimmy's crack.

"That's it, baby. Stay relaxed. Good boy!" she smiled sweetly, running her index finger up and down between his buttocks. "Feels good, doesn't it?"

It didn't feel unpleasant, if that's what she meant. Just extremely embarrassing: standing naked on all fours in front of nearly 50 young women and teenage girls.

"You need to gently massage his crack to make him relax his bum," Sarah explained to the audience. "Just run your finger up and down... probing his hole's tightness, when you touch it... Keep still, sweetie... Good! See him relax his little hole?"

Jimmy let out a loud fart, feeling his face getting hotter.

"Not sure about seeing, but I can definitely hear it!" one of the women laughed.

"Save some for the bath, honey. You know, to make bubbles," Sarah told him, knowing quite well, that such toddler joke was rather humiliating, than funny for an eight year old.

Predictably Jimmy's face turned redder.

"Another technique to make a boy relax his anal sphincter is tickling his scrotal sack..." Sarah continued. "Keep your elbows on the table, honey... The tickle makes him shiver and completely lose the tension. Wait for the right moment, when his body shakes, and... yes, slide your finger in. See how easy it is to make the little boy let it in? Now let's give him a thorough... internal massage."

Sarah started to pump the boy's hole with her index finger. Jimmy felt completely defeated, trying hard to hold back tears. Not in front of these women.

"Keep your finger pointed down and locate his boy bump: about 6-7 centimeters in. You can't miss it. Not to mention, the boy will let you know..."

Most of the audience grinned, though a few younger girls gave Sarah a blank stare.

"How?" a pretty 12 year old girl in the first row asked.

"Come here, kitten... Ladies, please!" Sarah waited for the giggles to die down. "What's your name, sweetheart?"

"Maddie."

"What a pretty name for a pretty girl. Now, you've seen what boys do when they are about to pee?"

"Strain their willies?"

"Right. Take a look."

The girl bent down to look under Jimmy's tummy.

"Oh, my gosh!" Maddie reached between the boy's legs and bounced his stiff willy. "It's like a spring!"

The audience erupted in laughter.

"Learned a lot today?" Sarah asked the girl.

"Yeah!" the girl played with Jimmy's pee-pee a bit more before returning to her seat.

The funny scene left a deep impression on Laura. She wasn't surprised, let alone offended by Sarah letting a 12 year old girl fondle her son. She enjoyed watching his face getting redder, like the rest of the audience. What amazed her the most, was how casually complete strangers like Maddie touched naked boys' packages. She noticed it at the beach first, watching the two girls Maddie's age playing with her son. No reservations at all. Like petting a cute puppy.

"Having located the bump, you can use two fingers to thoroughly massage it," Sarah continued. "Keeping the boy in place by cupping his little package with your other hand... And gently massaging it of course."

She rolled Jimmy's balls in her fingers, making the boy gasp.

"Does he need his paci?" Sarah asked Laura. "I can give him one of Billy's if you forgot yours at home."

Sarah's assumptions made Jimmy choke in anger. But his mom... simply played along, as always.

"Here." Laura took out one of the pacifiers she just bought for Jimmy, walked to the changing table and stuck it in his mouth. To her surprise her eight year old son immediately started sucking on it.

There was no point arguing - standing naked on all four. It'd have only made the situation more embarrassing.

"Thanks," Sarah increased the pace, pumping Jimmy's butt hole with two fingers. "Make sure to drain his bladder," she placed a small bowl under the boy's willy and gently stroked the back of his pink sack.

Jimmy flinched and peed into the bowl eliciting giggles and awws.

"Once he's peed, you can massage his little willy," Sarah continued, "If that's a toddler with tight foreskin, rub the tip of his "hood" with one finger... If it's an eight year old and the foreskin retracts... Seems like it does... Keep still, honey... almost there... Once you fully open his little nub, rub the top along with the urethral opening, which, as you may expect, will cause... Yes, instant urination... And that, my dear ladies, is how you drain a little boy, preparing him for his bath."

Laura looked around. Everyone's eyes were glued to her shuddering naked son. She noticed several young women holding one hand between their legs, casually covered with a purse or hat. They couldn't help rubbing themselves, which was becoming increasingly hard to resist for her as well. Seemed like a norm here: as long, as no boy could see it.

"Are you wigglying him?" the cute 12 year old asked with an innocent smile.

"Maddie!" her mom gasped, visibly embarrassed by her daughter's naïve bluntness.

"No, honey, I am not," Sarah explained after the giggles died down. "It's just a massage. Though I'm certain some moms do what you just mentioned before the boy's bath. A sure way to calm a fussy little boy. Right, ladies?"

The audience burst out in laughter.

"Sure there is plenty of classes dedicated to that specific technique," she continued. "Just not mine, sorry. And Miss Maddie brought up a valid point. We don't want the boy to enjoy his massage too much if you know what I mean."

Sarah withdrew her fingers from Jimmy's butt, wiped them with the towel, and helped Jimmy lie on his back.

"The same sequence," she explained. "Top to bottom: shoulders, chest, left arm... The right one... Spend a little longer on the tummy: circle around the belly button... Then massage the area under it... Up and down... And left to right... He's a little tight, which means..." she turned to the audience.

"Gas," one of the women said.

"Right! Raise both legs, bend the knees and press the thighs against the stomach... Come on, little one..."

She pressed harder making Jimmy fart.

"Here we go! Massage his tummy again, raise the legs and... Good boy! Music to every mom's ears, isn't it?"

The audience giggled.

"Now... Let's put some oil on his bum, keeping him in the legs-up position... Right on his hole..."

Jimmy winced, knowing what was going to happen next: her finger in his butt. Sarah inserted two and immediately started rubbing his "special spot" making his willie ache.

"You can do several leg exercises, while keeping your fingers in his hiney. Lifting one leg at a time... Now both of them... Lift them up... Cross the ankles and push down to make him spread his legs... All while rubbing his boy's bump. Of course it's better to have another pair of hands helping you."

She looked at Laura.

"Do you want me to help you?" Jimmy's mom wondered.

"I was thinking about that kitten," Sarah pointed at Maddie. "If that's OK with you."

"Absolutely!" Laura nodded with a smile.

"Wanna help me, Maddie?"

Sarah beckoned the girl to come and went to the tub to turn on the water.

"Alright. Let me raise his legs. I can hold them separately now... allowing me to spread them wider and raise them higher, almost to his ears. It makes the boy do to things: present his little package..."

The girl giggled.

"And open his poop hole."

"He did open it a little."

"What are you waiting for?"

"You want me to... Oh my gosh!" the girl giggled with excitement.

"Two fingers, honey... A little deeper... Can you feel his bump?"

"I am not sure..."

"Watch his willy... Here we go. You certainly found it."

"Just rub it, right?"

"Make sure to apply some pressure... Good! And use your other hand to massage his little marbles. Excellent! Keep doing it"

"Looks like he's gonna pee."

"Well, don't stand right in front of him, in the soak zone!"

"OK. Oopsie!" the girl giggled, watching Jimmy spurt of stream of pee.

"Make him pee again. That's my girl! In the meantime, we are going to proceed with the leg exercises... Lifting... Crossing... Spreading... Lifting again... Now the exercise called "bicycle". Tickle his balls, sweetie... A little lower, behind them... That's the spot... And I am going to let him kick his legs, making sure he can't hit you... Don't mind his spurts. Keep tickling him... Fun, isn't it?"

"Your daughter is a natural," one of the women told Maddie's mom.

"Thank you. Wonder where she learned that..."

"Video tutorials?"

"Of fingering little boys?"

"Shh! It's called relaxing massage around here."

A few giggles ensued.

Laura started to worry if the pad in her panties was up to the task. She didn't expect so much excitement at the mall. She looked around noticing more women rubbing themselves. She should come to such classes more often. Maybe even start her own. On "wigglying" little boys... No one explained that term to her officially. Seemed like some kind of secret. Are they kidding? There was only one thing those "wigglies" could mean.

"That's enough, honey. Thank you," Sarah told Maddie. "Remember what I just said? Don't let little boys enjoy the massage too much."

The girl withdrew her fingers.

"Make sure to thoroughly clean your hands with baby wipes," Sarah instructed her. "Oh, and could you turn off the water please? Thanks."

Sarah quickly wiped Jimmy's butt and crotch.

"Let me clean up here..." she told the audience. "As you can see, a baby massage can get quite messy... Now... Come here, sweetie." she took Jimmy in her arms. "Let's put you in the bathtub. Isn't it what these lovely ladies came to see?"

She lowered the naked boy into the tub.

"Sorry, honey. It's a class. I can only let you play for a couple of minutes before I start washing you." Sarah apologized to Jimmy, throwing several toys into the bathtub, "Go on. Play with your toys. What's the matter, baby? I thought you liked bath time."

Her smile was so sweet, Jimmy instantly forgot what that woman just did to him, and picked up a plastic boat. It felt really awkward: pretending to be a happy toddler playing with boats and duckies. But what else he could do sitting in this bathtub? Watch the 50 women staring at his naked body through the clear plastic?

"Having fun, sweetie? What's this ducky name? Haven't named him yet? And who's that? A little fishy? You know he can squirt out of his mouth?"

She squeezed the rubber toy, squirting a jet of water into Jimmy's face. He couldn't help giggling.

"Squirt toys are fun, aren't they, Jimmy? Including your favorite one..."

Sarah reached between the boy's legs and flicked his willy, making him flinch and let out a big bubble of gas.

"I knew you wouldn't miss that opportunity," she said, making the audience laugh.

She kept holding the boy's pee-pee.

"On a serious note, ladies," she continued. "If you haven't gotten your boy's foreskin to retract completely... which every mom should make sure of by the age of three... Bath is the best time to loosen Mr. Willy's little hood. The hot water makes the skin soft and stretchable. Pull it back as far, as you can.... Hold it like that for a few seconds... Return to the original position and repeat, trying to stretch it a little more... Be very gentle. Don't force it open at once. It typically takes about two weeks if you work his willy daily.

She stopped rolling Jimmy's pee-pee in her fingers and poured some shampoo into her hands.

"Some moms wash the kid's hair last, but I prefer to take the "head to toe" literally. It's way easier to wash his head when he's still sitting in the tub. Close your eyes, honey."

Jimmy quickly did. He hated when his mom washed his hair, but Sarah's soft hands actually felt good.

"Thoroughly rinse the hair... Face too... You can open your eyes now, sweetheart."

Sarah reached into the water and pulled out the tub's plug to drain it.

"Get up, hon. Let's have you washed."

Jimmy reluctantly stood up, immediately covering his crotch. He couldn't bear facing 50 young women and teenage girls devouring his naked body with their pretty eyes.

"Need to go potty?" Sarah asked.

Jimmy shook his head, feeling his face getting hotter.

"Sure? Why are you touching your willy then? Could you keep your hands out of there please?"

She put the boy's hands on his sides and started lathering them up.

"I think everyone here would agree, that the only way to bath a kid is with your bare hands. Start with arms. Then the body: shoulders... back... Turn around, honey..." Sarah poured more shower gel into her hands and lathered up Jimmy's chest, making sure to rub the boy's nipples. "Now the tummy... Hold still!"

She moved her hands lower, making Jimmy endure the sharp tickle.

"Relax your bum, honey. I need to wash it too. No? You know I am gonna do it anyway?"

Sarah lathered up Jimmy's buttocks and forced her hand between them. Nothing he could do to stop her slippery finger from reaching his sensitive hole.

"No little boy likes having his hiney washed. I am not even talking about his boy's package. Great if you have someone to help, but if you are bathing the kid alone, there is a simple way to make him comply and stand still: the hook."

She bent her index finger in an explicit gesture. No one in the audience needed an explanation where the "hook" goes.

"Doesn't really matter if he clenches his buns, because a well-soaped finger will make it to the right spot... And in it goes."

Sarah forced her finger into Jimmy's butt hole, making the boy jump.

"Did you poke him through?" a young women in the first row asked sarcastically. "It's not your finger, is it?"

She pointed at Jimmy's willy, that sprung up the moment, Sarah inserted her finger into the boy's poop hole.

"Some boys really love their baths," another woman laughed.

"Some?" the one sitting next to her giggled.

"You're on my hook now, sweetheart," Sarah smiled, bending her finger inside Jimmy's butt. "How about some ballet?"

She pulled her finger up, making the boy stand on tiptoes.

"Up, up, up! Good boy! My little naked ballet dancer," Sarah smiled sarcastically, wiggling her finger in his butt.

Jimmy quivered and fidgeted in discomfort, biting his pacifier. The soap stung his butt every time his smiling and cooing tormenter moved her finger.

"Dance some more for me..." Sarah kept wiggling her hooked finger inside the boy's hole. "Are you going to let me wash your dirty bum now?"

He nodded.

"Because if you don't..." she wiggled her soapy finger again, making him fidget. "Where did you learn these moves, honey? Trying to entertain the ladies? The new dance sensation, isn't he?"

The audience burst out in laughter.

"I'm sure your best performance is coming up: when I start washing your jewels. Spread your legs, sweetie! I'm not gonna ask twice! Good boy! Now bend your knees a little and arch your back. Keep your bum stuck out, while I am washing it... Between your buns... And your dirty little hole of course. In... And out... In... Honey, you need to keep your knees bent. There we go... Out... And in again. What? I am sorry sweetie. It's gonna stay inside, while I wash your boy parts."

She cupped the boy's balls with her other hand, making his whole body shake.

"I know, baby. I know... It's every little boy's most ticklish spot. Try to keep still..." she wiggled her finger in Jimmy's butt and turned to the audience. "Every time you need to persuade him to do something, use the "hook" to do the talking."

A few stifled giggles ensued.

"Let's thoroughly wash your little sack... What was that?" she momentarily stopped rolling the boy's balls in her soapy fingers after he convulsively squirted two jets of pee out of his throbbing willy. "I told you, ladies..." Sarah said with a condescending smile. "One can only hope after making a boy go potty before his bath, that he wouldn't pee in the tub. Obviously accidents like that shouldn't deter you from thoroughly washing his boy parts."

Sarah resumed her gentle massage of Jimmy's shriveled sack, rewarded by more spurts from his pee-pee.

"Aww!" one of the teenage girls smiled with glee. "Little boys are so cute, doing it."

Sarah kept lathering up Jimmy's balls for another couple of minutes. Laura watched her son shudder and pee, knowing, that he was deliberately subjected to prolonged tickling for everyone's amusement. Who'd resist tickling sensitive boy's balls when giving him a bath? She did it every single time she bathed Jimmy, when he was little: tickled him to pee and then some more, after a mock scolding.

"Do boys ever grow out of this naughty habit?" Sarah let out a condescending sigh, enjoying Jimmy's beet-red face. "Are you done with your peeing fun, baby? Let's give Mr.Willy a thorough wash, shall we? Keep still and try not to pee again please. If that's not much to ask from a boy your age... Honey, I told you to hold still!" Sarah used her soapy finger inside the boy's butt to assert her authority. "Do we have an understanding? Good! I need to clean Mr.Willy with soap... Inside and out... Which means we're gonna pull his hood all the way down... Hold still... Here we go! Now we can thoroughly wash his head."

An excruciating jolt made Jimmy nearly jump out of the tub. The sensation was so strong, he couldn't help peeing again.

"That was too much to ask of you, wasn't it?" Sarah sighed, continuing her manipulations. "Boys being boys... And since you are refusing to keep still, we're gonna do things a little differently."

She reached behind the table and picked up a strange looking plastic bench.

"Comes handy when you are bathing an uncooperative boy alone," Sarah explained to the audience. "Move here, honey."

Sarah placed the bench into the tub.

"Lie down, sweetheart... On your back... Good boy... Legs up!" she grabbed Jimmy's ankles and pushed both of his legs up. "See, how I positioned him? The butt hanging off the edge of the bench, so everything that comes out of his pee and poop holes lands in the tub and goes down the drain. Now, you don't suppose he'd lie still in this position, allowing me to wash his poopie hole and boy parts? Let's make sure he does. See the poles on each side of the bench? Let's raise them a little higher... Aligned with his knees. Perfect... Secure each leg to the pole. Two straps: one at the ankle and one below the knee. Beautiful. Made him spread his legs and present his little package. The bum is wide-open too. Sweetie, you can come closer to watch, if you want to." she beckoned Maddie with her finger.

A few other teenage girls came too, making Jimmy's face redder.

"Stand on the other side please, so your moms can watch too." Sarah instructed them.

The bench was slightly lower, than the edge of the tub, though it didn't matter, since the tub was made of clear plastic. Jimmy felt completely exposed and vulnerable, shivering in anticipation of very unpleasant things the young woman restrained him for.

"Did Mr.Willy put his hood back on? Before I finished washing his head?" she took a hold of the boy's pee-pee, making the girls giggle. "By the way, is your little buddy tired of standing upright? Let's fix that too."

She thrusted two soapy fingers into Jimmy's butt hole, making him gasp.

"Here we go! Up again," Sarah poked the boy's "special bump" a couple more times and withdrew her fingers, turning her attention to his willy.

"So cute!" one of the girls giggled.

"Let's pull the hood down... And thoroughly wash Mr.Willy's head."

Jimmy felt the familiar sensation: intense tingling and unbearable urge to pee. His body shook wildly, making him gasp for air.

"Boys hate being touched like this," Sarah explained to the girls. "Be gentle, but very thorough. And of course prepared for this." She removed the palm, she was rubbing the boy's tiny slit with, letting a jet of pee burst out of it. "Don't mind his pee fountains. Every boy does it having his little nub washed with soap."

"Poor baby!"

"Not very pleasant, I know. Spend a couple extra minutes on his sensitive nub to teach him a lesson. Why don't we wash this pink sack too. Aww, is little baby ticklish? What about your little hole? Let's thoroughly wash it again. In and out... Now with a twist. Just quickly insert and withdraw. Rapid penetration is a very effective way to stimulate a bowel movement. Here we go! Better in an empty bathtub, than your pants. Right, Jimmy?"

Sarah continued her ministrations for another minute, before turning on the shower head.

"Rinse all of the soap away... And we are done! One sparkling clean little boy."

She unfastened the straps and took Jimmy in her arms.

"Back on the changing table," she lowered the boy onto the fluffy towel. "It's more convenient to pat him dry lying on his back, like an infant. The hair, face... Peekaboo! Arms... chest... tummy... legs... the boy bits of course... Now turn him on his tummy and thoroughly dry the back and this cute round bottom. Did your mom tell you, you have the cutest baby boy bum in the world? Stay on your tummy, honey. I need to apply the lotion all over your body. The lavender one is the best. Feels good, doesn't it? Spread your legs a little... Sweetheart, when I said "the whole body", it meant your bum too. OK, it's much easier when you lie on your back. Turn over... Hold still. Yes, it goes under the Mr.Willy's hood as well... And on your little marbles... Thanks for not peeing on me. Now... Let's lift your legs and take care of your bum..." she turned to the audience. "Make sure to get some inside too... All done. Stay on your back. I need to clip your nails."

Sarah took a nail clipper and lifted Jimmy's left leg.

"Aww, how cute!" one of the girls said. "Lying naked on the changing table having his nails clipped."

"Yeah, so adorable. An eight year old with a pacifier in his mouth."

Jimmy rolled his eyes. At least Sarah was gentle with a nail clipper unlike his mom. It didn't hurt at all. But being naked in front of a dozen giggling teenage girls? Not to mention their moms in the audience... Listening to endless awws... A couple of girls even played with his boy parts. Sarah just watched it with a smirk, listening to the girls debate if Mr.Willy looked cuter with his hood up or down.

"Sit up, honey," Sarah helped him sit. "Gotta style your hair. Let's prepare you for your beauty pageant." She turned to Jimmy's mom. "Have you enrolled him in one yet?"

She started to comb Jimmy's hair, using a brush and expensive looking hair dryer.

"I am serious," she told Laura. "With his looks... He'll easily win this year in his age group."

"I'll think about it," Laura smiled.

"Well, if you do decide to enroll him in the "Cutest Boy" pageant, you can count on my vote.

"And mine!" Maddie smiled.

"Mine too!"

"Geez, who wouldn't vote for such an angel?"

Sarah stood Jimmy up.

"What do you think of this hairstyle, ladies?"

"Absolutely stunning!"

"I'm speechless"

"I think I need to go to the bathroom."

"Yeah, I came a little too."

"Shh!"

"What a pretty little boy!"

"The best kind of attire for this cutie, don't ya think?"

"His birthday suit?"

The awws continued for another couple of minutes. Sarah let everyone take pictures of the naked boy with their phones.

"Could you make your son pose for me?" a late-twenties woman with a professional camera approached Laura. "I run an ad agency."

She handed Jimmy's mom her card.

"Little Cuties... So you make kids commercials?"

"Yeah. Mostly clothing. Can I take a couple of test shots? I'll email them to you."

"Sure. Take as many, as you need."

"Thanks."

The woman started photographing Jimmy in different poses.

"Such a great boy model. It's up to you."

"Modeling?"

The woman nodded. "If you say "yes", he's basically hired. Wanna do some modeling, Jimmy? Let's try these on."

She handed Laura a couple of cute nursery print t-shirts. Laura put the first one on Jimmy. It was short: didn't even cover the boy's belly button.

"Thanks! Perfect!"

The camera started to click again. "Aww. Are you shy, little one? No! Don't remove his hands. Let him pull the t-shirt down. Wanna capture his face... Such a cute scene. I know a few magazines, that'd kill to have it on their covers. By the way, keep the t-shirts. They're yours. So... Would you consider modeling for him?"

"When do we start?" Laura chuckled.

"I'll call you tomorrow. Can I get your number?"

The women bumped their smartwatches exchanging the contact information.

"The star of the show!" Sarah smiled. "Come here, Jimmy." She hugged the boy. "Thank you so much, sweetie! And your mom of course. Can I hug you too?"

"It's me who should be thanking you. For bathing Jimmy and making him pretty."

"Anytime. Seriously. You know where to find me. So any time he needs a bath... after visiting the beach... or to clean him up after an accident..." she winked at Laura. "Can I also invite you to our weekly brunch? We have it every Sunday. Just my sister and a couple of friends."

"I'll be delighted to meet them," Laura pulled her son's pants higher. "Say "bye", Jimmy! Let's stay in touch, Sarah."

They bumped their watches and Laura helped Jimmy to get down.

"Did you enjoy your bath? We still have another one tonight. Sorry, honey, I make no exceptions. Every little boy needs to be bathed before going to bed. Let's go."

10. Puppies and Kittens

She took Jimmy's hand and they left the store. The rest of the mall looked more or less conventional: expensive boutiques and big department stores. Until they turned the corner and saw a glass-encased shop in the middle of the hallway.

"Little Bottoms," Laura read the sign, "A funny name for a daycare. Guess they take kids of all ages..."

"Mom! I don't wanna..." Jimmy pulled her hand.

"Relax! I'm not taking you to this daycare... Well, not right now. Unless you keep acting up... I just wanna ask a question, that's all."

Laura stepped in.

"Hi!" a cute 16 year old girl greeted them. "Welcome to Little Bottoms. What a pretty son you have. I am so sorry. We're full..." she looked into her tablet. "...until 18:15. I can try to talk to the manager. Maybe she'd let him in."

"It's OK. I just wanted to ask you a few questions. You charge hourly, right? And take kids of all ages?"

"Under 11."

"Of course. So I can leave him here and go shopping?"

"For up to three hours."

"What if he..."

"Has an accident?" the girl chuckled. "We make every kid go potty upon taking him in. Both number one and number two. Then get them to pee every 20 minutes, so they won't make puddles on the floor. Since they are not wearing any pants."

"That's what "little bottoms" means. You keep them butt-naked?"

"Yes. Little boys love it," the girl pointed at a three year old running around in just a short t-shirt.

"Wanna come here someday, honey?" Laura couldn't resist teasing her son. "So I can shop alone instead of dragging you from one store to another? You'd have so much fun with other kids."

"He will!" the girl turned to Jimmy. "Do you like sports? We have football. And basketball. All kinds of games with all kinds of balls." She chuckled, but managed to keep a straight face and continue. "Tricycles, trampolines... The manager is big on physical exercises."

Laura looked around. All kids were indeed involved in some kind of ball throwing game. Their bare bottoms looked so cute. Not to mention the bouncing willies. She noticed a few shoppers stop by to admire the kids too. Mostly teenage girls, taking pictures with their phones.

"Is he potty-trained?" the girl asked.

"We're working on it."

"So he's not? That actually works out better, since we don't allow potties."

"What do you mean?"

"EC only. We don't have enough staff to supervise every kid on the potty."

"I see. Since you make them tinkle so often."

"Yes. Plus no one gets offended. Being too little for the potty or too old for the changing table. Everyone does it the same way: lying legs-up in the diapering position."

"Fine with me."

"You sure you don't want me to talk to the manager? See if she can squeeze him in."

"No need. Thanks. Almost forgot. Do you bath kids?"

"We can - for an additional fee. Not here though. We take them to the grooming salon over there."

"Grooming salon?"

"You've never seen one? Every mall has them: bathing and grooming salons. I can call them and make a reservation for you. Do you wanna have him bathed now? While you're shopping?"

"No, he's just had a bath. I was just asking."

Laura thanked the girl and headed to the "grooming salon."

"Curious what they do," she told her son.

The grooming salon turned out to be a fenced off area in the corner of the hallway. It had three big stationary bathtubs, several plastic infant ones, and a couple of large basins. Plus the changing tables: one occupied by a three year old toddler receiving a massage from a pretty 18-something girl. The most unusual part was the seating for moms watching their kids bathed: a set of retractable bleachers taken straight from some high school gym.

The amphitheater arrangement reminded Laura of the medical theaters she saw in the movies. What a great idea. Watching naked little boys during hygienic and medical treatments. As she expected, the audience wasn't just their moms. Half were teenage girls and young women just enjoying the show. Like pet store visitors who never owned, nor cared to adopt a dog or cat: coming to the store to admire adorable puppies and kittens up for adoption.

"So that's the grooming salon..." Laura chuckled.

"I am sorry," the girl at the counter corrected her. "We used to be called such, but are a full-service kids spa now. Would you be interested in our today's special? It's called "Happy Baby". A thorough colon cleansing with two enemas. Followed by a relaxing massage. A special herbal bath. The moisturizing lotion over his entire body. Cutting and polishing the nails. A designer haircut. And lastly a small vitamin enema."

"How much?"

"Oh, the first one's on the house. I don't think I've seen you here before."

Laura was tempted, but Jimmy just had his bath. Not to mention another one in a couple of hours.

"We're kind of in a rush," she apologized.

"Come back any time!" the girl smiled.

They left the mall and boarded a bus, heading home. Laura took the last look at the mall. She was definitely going to take advantage of the grooming salon's offer. Maybe even tomorrow. A "spa"? Yeah, right! It was nothing, but a "grooming salon". For pets. Grooming cute little doggies and kitties while their owners watched. The glass-encased "bottomless daycare" also belonged to a pet store. Puppies and kittens made to run the ramps and jump through hoops. Dogs and cats don't need any clothing. Nor do little boys.

Laura recalled Chairman Arianna's famous speech: "men becoming a decorative breed". That's who boys were on this island: pets. Precious and loved, but still... nothing, but pets.

Most dog and cat breeds were indeed decorative: to develop certain physical features. Tiny chiwawas and curly poodles didn't have a chance in the wild. But the planet wasn't wild anymore. No harsh environment or physically demanding jobs, that required muscle strength. The robots took over traditional men duties.

The procreation was even easier. Cleaner, safer, well-planned genetically... And so, males indeed became a decorative breed to entertain the prudent and cautious keepers of the planet: women. Who'd never do anything risky or foolish. The era of mischievous overgrown boys was over. The world has entered the new phase of stability and prosperity. Led by the all-female economic council presided by Arianna Orlov.

Laura wondered how many other "special" islands she owned. Running all sorts of experimental programs. It'd have been nice if she found a way to freeze the boy's physical development, stopping their growth at ten. No doubt her scientists were already working on that. In the meantime Laura had two and a half years of living in a dream. Or nightmare for her son. She didn't wish him ill. But one's dream is always somebody else's nightmare, isn't it?

To be continued...

(End of File)