The Nursery

Jim Sneaks Into the Nursery (IVT Stephanie)

This topic contains 2 replies, has 2 voices, and was last updated by  Sissy Jessica 1 week, 2 days ago.

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  • #60841
     Sissy Jessica 
    Participant

    Background:

    My name is Jim, and I am a freelance investigative journalist. I am sitting alone in my studio apartment, having just got off the phone with Sally Fitzgerald, the editor-in-chief of one of the larger newspaper companies in the city. She asked me to investigate some rumors regarding Melandren. She had heard rumblings that the company has been developing some sort of treatment for men, and wanted to break the news first. I managed to negotiate twice my usual fee, seeing as this is a huge company and it would take a lot of work and research.

    What Sally did not mention, is that she has already “sponsored me” and paid the fees. She put in a request to transform me into a submissive sissy baby for her own pleasure. Sally has been career-minded since college. She is single and in her mid-40’s. She believes it would be better to have an adult sissy baby to have fun with, and she has the perfect target. She knows I live alone, and have no close family or friends who would miss me.

    Once I am off the phone, I start doing research into the company. After a couple hours of research, the company’s website doesn’t make any mention of any sort of treatments. What I do find are recommendations to take a tour of the facilities. I sign up for the final tour on Friday, which starts at about 4 pm. I input my name and email to register. I receive an email confirmation for the tour.

    Sneaking into the Nursery

    I arrive about 30 minutes before the tour begins wearing a polo shirt, dress slacks, black socks, and black shoes. Before I enter the building, I spy a couple employees leaving for the day. As I walk by them, I manage to lift one of their ID cards off of them. I kneel to act like I am tying my shoes, but I am really sliding it into my sock. Before I can join the tour, I have to turn in everything in my pants pockets; cell phone (no pictures allowed), wallet, keys. I am told I will get everything back at the end of the tour. What they didn’t know is that I hid a small camera in my pants.

    The tour group is about 14 people, including me. The tour guide is friendly and dressed professionally, but something doesn’t seem quite right about her. In the middle of the tour, I look for an opportunity to sneak away. When we reach an intersection, I see a pair of elevators and no one else around. I bend over to tie my shoes again, letting the tour group get several yards away. I pull out the swiped ID card, and use it on the closest elevator. The hallways are deserted, everyone leaving early on Friday, I suppose. I decide to start my investigation at the bottom, and punch in for Sub-basement 2.

    The elevator ride is fairly short, and the doors open to a small waiting area with a pair of pink doors right in front of me. Above the threshold reads “Welcome to the Nursery.” What the hell is this? I slowly open the door to see if anyone is around.

    #61219
     Stephanie Suckswell 
    Participant

    Stephanie smiles wide as she hears the elevator ding outside of the nursery. In a few seconds, she would have her first visitor of the day.

    She had been told that this new visitor was one of the more reluctant participants in the program. Which excited her, the reluctant ones always end up loving the transformation the most.

    She harkened back to her days before she was transformed, all those memories still vivid in her mind.

    She sighed.

    This new visitor thought he was going to bring down the program, or something stupid like that. Did he really think exposing this program would fix anything? The Feds are the ones who started this whole program in the first place as a research and development operation into psychological warfare against the Russians. A universal gag order on information about the program had been in place since its inception. Any journalist caught writing about the program would be silenced…or gagged.

    This journalist would find all that out, either the easy way or the hard way.

    A few seconds later, the doors open. A man walks in who is 6’0. With short brown hair, blue eyes. He is athletic, about 190 lbs. He has little body hair, just like so many men who show up here.

    Stephanie stands up, and giggles a VERY girlish giggle.

    “Hello, Sir!” She says, “Welcome to the nursery. We are so happy you are joining us here.” She says with a deep curtsey. Her fingers lifting her skirt high and wide, exposing her plastic panties and diaper.

    Her small tits, showing when he bends forward. Her make-up giving her the look of a pristine doll.

    imagemore

     

    She rises from the curtsey. Her eyes linger on the man’s crotch.

    A camera, oldest trick in the book. Remember, he probably thinks you want his help to get out.

    “If you would be so kind, please walk with me and I will take you to a more private room where I can be more…honest with you.” She says as she darts her eyes towards the camera in the corner of the wall.

    She grabs the man’s hand, and whispers into his ear. Her outfits ruffles and lace brushing against his body. Her soft hands, gently intertwined with his.

    “I can tell you everything you need to know. Just promise to help me out.” She says innocently.

    They walk down the hall, further into the depths of the nursery.

    Halfway down the long corridor. Stephanie stops and gestures with her body for the man to enter the room.

    A sign on the door indicates it is the “Introduction, and interview room. No submissive’s allowed with proper authority.”

    The door opens, and the lights turn on.

    A relatively large room, with a large crib, changing table, rocking horse, sink, and tons of outfits, diapers, and other materials. The air filled with the distinct smell of baby powder effectively hides the other “sweet” smelling toxins which produce a calming effect on its victims. The calming agent working to create docile victims.

    Stephanie gestures towards the small table in the center of the room with two accompanying seats across from each other.

    “Shall we talk?” She says as she sits down, folding her skirt underneath her bottom.

    “What questions do you have?”

     

    OOC: Sorry if I wrote in a way that assumed to much of your character, I just wanted to get the story going. Also, I hope you’re okay with the use of mild calming drugs, it will help give your character an excuse to ever try on diapers. Lol. That’s always the hard part with these stories, the actual getting a grown man into diapers. Let me know in our PMs, if you have suggestions or hard limits about my methods to get you transformed.

    #61310
     Sissy Jessica 
    Participant

    As I open the door I am greeted by a beautiful woman standing in the reception area wearing a frilly pink satin dress. Oh shit, I’m made. I thought everyone would have gone home for the weekend by now. I wonder who she was waiting for. She curtsies for me and reveals her panties, and… Is that a diaper!? Is she really wearing one? Is she a victim here? She greets me, and welcomes me to the Nursery. She bends over slightly to reveal her cute breasts, and her make-up is pristine. She kinda looks like an adult-sized doll, very beautiful.

    I blush and my heart races. I sputter out a lie: “Oh, uh, well you see. My name is Jim, and I was part of a tour group and got separated. I somehow ended up here.”

    Before I can get another word out, she tells me she would like to take me to a room and talk in private. I see her eyes dart to a corner of the room. Security cameras, dammit. She must want to get out. Before I can tell her that I think she has the wrong person, she approaches me and takes my hand. Her dress swishes, and her diaper rustles as she moves toward me. She presses her warm, soft body into mine, and my manhood awakens. A noticeable bulge forms in my slacks. Definitely not a good day to have been wearing boxers.

    She then whispers in my ear that she can tell me everything if I promise to help her out. She could make for a great resource for my article. I should hear what she has to say. I immediately respond in a hushed tone: “Let’s go, tell me what you know.” She giggles with glee, and gives me a peck on the cheek. She leads me through the reception room, down the hall further into nursery. Eventually, we stop at a room marked for “Introductions and Interviews.” She opens the door and turns on the lights, letting me enter first. She closes the door behind us.

    The first thing that I notice is the sweet smell of the room. Is that smell… baby powder? I look around the room, and see all the different baby furniture and clothes. Wait, all this baby furniture is adult-sized. What is this place? As I look around, taking in the room, the girl goes to sit at the table toward the center of the room. She breaks the short silence by asking me if I have any questions. I look back at her, and join her at the table.

    The calming toxin starts to take effect, causing my racing heart rate to slow and my body feels more relaxed. It allows me to focus a bit on asking the questions. I turn the to girl, looking into her beautiful eyes, and ask: “Who are you, and how did you end up here? Also, what is this place? What can I do to help you?”

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