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Home / Stormy Night Publications Newsletter / Sentenced to the Nursery by Carole Archer – Extended Preview

Sentenced to the Nursery by Carole Archer – Extended Preview

Sentenced to the NurseryA short time later, Tamara finally heard the front door open. Several minutes later, Matron’s footsteps moved up the stairs. She wasn’t sure why, but Tamara felt immense relief and smiled as the woman who had been so cruel to her entered the room. “Have you been a good girl?”

“Yes, Matron,” Tamara replied, clinging to her toy.

Matron smiled, her eyes lighting up as little creases lined her face. Tamara was shocked by the woman’s pleasant demeanour. “You look so pretty when you smile,” she said, as Matron pulled her to her feet. Matron’s smile disappeared and she seemed taken aback by the compliment. She quickly recovered her composure and shook her head. “You bad girls don’t give me much reason to smile. Come with me. I’ve brought someone to see you.”

“Is it my new daddy?” Her voice trembled. Although she had decided a daddy would be her best option, butterflies fluttered in her tummy as she wondered if he would like her, if he would decide to take her, and what he would be like.

Matron shook her head. “Not necessarily, but he could be, if you make a good impression.”

Tamara followed Matron from the room and down the stairs, into the living room. She looked around, frowning. “Where is he?” she asked. “In the drawing room,” Matron replied, leading her to a door just off from the kitchen. Matron guided her into the room, and Tamara froze in the doorway. The most handsome man she had ever seen sat in the armchair, drinking coffee.

“Stuart Adams, meet Tamara Templeton-Smythe,” Matron said, shoving Tamara toward him. The man rose from the chair, putting his mug down on the small coffee table. He towered a full foot above Tamara. “I’m very pleased to meet you,” he said, bending forward and reaching his large hand out toward Tamara’s. Taking her hand, he shook it very gently. Lifting her hand to his mouth, he gently kissed the back of it, his neatly trimmed beard and moustache tickling her skin.

Tamara giggled as she gazed up at him. “Matron said you’re going to be my daddy, but you’re a bit too young to do that,” she said.

“Young lady, don’t be so rude,” Matron scolded. Tamara flinched, but the man waved away her objections. “I’m almost forty years old,” he told her.

“You don’t look as old as my daddy,” she said, blushing as he sat down and lifted her onto his lap. “Why is your beard all grey, but your hair isn’t?” she asked, gently touching his short dark brown hair.

“You’re an inquisitive little thing,” he said, tweaking her nose. “I’ve got plenty of grey,” he said, turning his head sideways and showing her the flecks of grey scattered through his hair. “But for some reason, my facial hair is completely grey. Don’t you like it?”

Tamara blushed. She loved it, she thought it made him look sophisticated and very handsome, but she couldn’t say that to him. “Oh, she doesn’t like my beard,” he said playfully to Matron, earning a scowl from the elderly woman.

“I do,” Tamara protested. “It makes you look kind.”

“Oh, don’t be fooled by appearances,” he warned, framing her face with his hands. His tone was sterner, but his eyes twinkled. “I can be a very kind daddy, if you’re a good girl, but I know how to deal with naughty girls too.”

Pouting, Tamara nodded. She thought it was too good to be true. He was going to be a big bully, just like Matron.

“Don’t pout,” he warned, “or I’ll take you across my lap, remove your diaper, and redden your little bottom. I’m sure you don’t want that, do you?”

Tamara shook her head. “I’m sorry, no, I don’t want that. Erm, what do I call you? Stuart? Mr. Adams?”

“No, my baby girl. You’ll call me Daddy.”

“But I already have a daddy,” she protested.

“Yes, you do,” he answered, putting his finger to her lips to silence her. “But for the next twelve months, I’m going to be your daddy. I’m going to take you home soon, and you’ll spend your year-long sentence with me. I have a nursery set up just for you. I only take one little girl at a time, so you’ll have no siblings to play with. I prefer to have a one-on-one relationship with my little girls, then I can devote all of my time to them.”

Tamara’s eyes widened. Although the judge had given her a one-year sentence, and Matron told her she would be going to live with a guardian for a year, she had still hoped they were bluffing and she’d be allowed to go home soon. It finally dawned on Tamara that this really was happening and her father was not making plans to secure her early release. Her heart sank and she chewed her lower lip.

“If you’re a good girl, you won’t always have to wear diapers,” he said, patting her bottom. “I prefer my little girls in frilly panties. Diapers will generally be reserved for punishments, or if you’re unwell.” Tamara sighed, feeling some relief that she would not permanently be in diapers. At least that was something to be grateful for.

“What will I wear?” she asked. “Can we call at my house on the way to collect some of my clothes?” Tamara’s mood brightened. When they were there, she would enlist her mother’s help. She could hide in one of the many rooms until Mr. Adams gave up looking for her and left.

“No, baby girl. Your own clothes have no place in your new life. You’ll wear pretty little dresses, like the one you’re wearing now,” he said, rubbing his fingers over the thin cotton material. Tamara frowned. “I’ve got a wardrobe full of pretty dresses for my little girl, and I’ve just bought you the most adorable drop-seat pyjamas. I want to have easy access to your bottom at all times.”

Tamara’s mouth fell open. She knew the answer to her question, but she wanted confirmation of his intentions. “Why do you want access to my bottom?”

He smiled and toyed with one of her ringlets. Leaning toward her, he kissed her on the tip of her nose. “Sometimes daddies need to chastise their little girls, no matter how much they love them. I find the best way to get a naughty girl’s attention is with a hard hand or a hairbrush to her bare fanny, until it’s rosy red.”

Tamara’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Although she was horrified at the thought of being spanked by this man, she was also aroused by the idea of having him as her daddy. And if calling him ‘Daddy’ made him happy, she could do that. She could play the game to her advantage, give him what he wanted, and treat this like an extended holiday.

“Daddies also need to help little girls stay fit and healthy, and medicine is best administered via the bottom,” he said, stroking her cheek. Tamara’s eyes widened as she tried to imagine what medicine would be given rectally. Recalling the bulging enema bag, and Beverley hobbling to the toilet, clutching her tummy, Tamara’s cheeks reddened.

“Mr. Adams, I’m afraid Tamara hasn’t been prepared yet. I haven’t had time to do her cleansing. I had a young lady sent over from the punishment clinic this morning and it’s put me somewhat behind. I came to meet you when I returned her. It didn’t help that this one refused to use her diaper overnight. We had to wait until she was so desperate, she had no choice in the matter.”

The man shook his head and sighed. “You’ll do as you’re told, when you’re told, or I’ll redden your naughty little bottom. Do you understand?”

Gazing into his eyes, which still showed no real anger, Tamara nodded. “Yes… Daddy.” He smiled and ruffled her hair. “Good girl. Now, let’s go and get you ready,” he said, lifting her from the chair. “You don’t mind if I assist with her cleansing, do you?” he asked, taking Tamara’s hand as he addressed Matron.

“Not at all. Follow me.” Matron marched out of the room and toward the stairs.

Tamara dragged her feet as she was led from the room. Stopping, he turned to face her. “Tammy, you’re not being naughty, are you?” Shaking her head, she smiled. She loved being called Tammy. Amelia often called her that, but her mother hated it and insisted on her full name being used.

“Are you going to hurt me?” Tamara asked, wary of going upstairs for fear of what the cleansing might entail. The pain of her previous spanking had faded, but she could vividly recall how much it hurt. And the bath Matron had given her was not pleasant at all, especially when she had scrubbed in and around her anus, and shaved her sex.

“No, we won’t punish you, unless you’re naughty. We’re going to take you up to your room and cleanse you and get you ready for the trip to your new home,” he explained, pulling her toward the stairs. “This is part of the process. You can’t go home with me until it’s completed.” He led her up the stairs, and when they reached the top, Tamara led him toward her room, where Matron waited patiently by the changing table. The chair stood in the centre of the room and Tamara hesitated in the doorway. “I don’t want to be spanked,” she said, glancing up at her new daddy.

“Then be a good girl,” he said, guiding her toward the chair, where he sat down. “Show your daddy how well behaved you can be,” he said, taking hold of the hem of her dress and pulling it upward.

“Noooo,” she squealed, slapping his hand away. She was aware she only had a diaper on under her dress, and it would be too humiliating to let this handsome man see her in such a garment.

Tamara shrieked in protest when he grasped her wrist and tugged her across his lap. Lifting her dress, he yanked at her diaper, pulling it down and baring her bottom. “You will do as you’re told immediately,” he said, his tone harsh as his huge hand smacked down on her right buttock. Tamara squealed and kicked hard as he peppered her buttocks with hard, stinging swats. His hand was much larger and harder than Matron’s, and created a much more intense burn. “Daddy, I’m sorry. Please stop. Please. I promise I’ll behave. Please.”

“I’m very pleased to hear that,” he said, resting his hand against her stinging buttocks. “But if I stop now, I’m sending home the wrong message.” Tamara whimpered at the knowledge her spanking was not yet over. “You need to learn to do as your daddy says, immediately. I won’t repeat myself. If you refuse to do as you’re told, you’ll be punished. I’m going to teach you what happens when you don’t obey your daddy. Matron, could you pass me a hairbrush, please?”

Tamara shrieked with horror as she glanced over her shoulder and saw Matron hand him a large wooden-backed brush. “Please, Daddy, no, I’ll be good.”

“Yes, I imagine you will, after this,” he said, tightening his grip around her waist and smacking the brush against her buttock. Tamara shrieked loudly each time the brush splatted against her behind. The pain was unbearable and after less than a dozen smacks she was crying and begging him to stop. Her spanking continued, her legs kicking out behind her and her hands scrabbling at the floor as he continued to land hard swats against her cheeks. She yelled herself hoarse as her buttocks flattened too many times to count under the heavy implement, until finally she slumped across his lap and sobbed, her entire body trembling.

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” she whimpered as he stood her up. She was startled when he lifted her onto his lap and cuddled her close. “I know you’re sorry, but hopefully you’ve learned a valuable lesson and will do as you’re told in future.”

“Yes, Daddy.” Clinging onto him, she found comfort in his actions, and she sobbed with relief that her spanking was over. She couldn’t believe the contrast between the two spankings she had received. Matron’s had left her absolutely distraught and feeling very vulnerable. But although her daddy had smacked much harder, she oddly enough felt cared for and even loved.

“Good girl, it’s over. Settle down,” he said, rocking her in his arms as he kissed away her tears. Tamara couldn’t believe how kind he was being, after he had spanked her to tears. Her bottom burned, and although she wanted to hate him for hurting her, she guessed she had been warned. She took a long time to calm down, but when she did, he took out a handkerchief and dried her eyes. After encouraging her to blow her nose, he lifted her off his lap and stood her in front of him.

“Let’s get this dress off,” he said, and without hesitation Tamara’s arms shot up. Her cheeks flushed as he guided the dress over her head. Looking down, she realised her diaper had been kicked off during her spanking, and she was completely naked. “Good girl,” he praised, running his hand over her stomach and smiling up at her. She gasped as his fingers brushed gently over her sex, before he reached around and patted her behind.

“Where do you want her?” he asked, and Matron pointed toward the changing table. “On her hands and knees,” she said, “and we’ll begin her cleansing.” Tamara’s eyes widened as she spotted the bulging enema bag, which Matron had prepared whilst her new daddy consoled her after her spanking.

“I’ll put this here, so it’s at hand if you decide to misbehave,” he said, placing the hairbrush on the end of the changing table. Tamara was lifted onto the table and helped into position. On her hands and knees, she gazed down at the brush. Her buttocks stung and she had no desire to be spanked again, but she wasn’t sure she could take all that liquid. Glancing over her shoulder, she gazed with terror at the bulging bag, filled with frothy liquid.

“Do I really need that?” she asked, her voice wavering.

“Of course you do,” Matron told her. “You haven’t used the potty since you came here, and your daddy wants to take a nice, clean girl home with him.” Tamara’s cheeks flushed crimson. Slumping forward, she rested her arms flat against the table and pressed her forehead against her arms, desperate to hide her blushes.

“I need you to hold still,” he instructed. “I don’t want to hurt you when I insert the nozzle.” Tamara gritted her teeth when his thick finger entered her rectum, lubricating her tight tunnel. It was removed and replaced with a long, thin nozzle, which was fed into her. “Good girl,” he praised, reaching across to open the clamp. Tamara whimpered as the soapy water started to flow into her, and she squirmed in distress as her stomach started to swell. “No, Daddy, no more.”

“Tammy, we’ve barely begun,” he said, resting a hand against her back. “You stay in position and keep quiet, unless you want me to reheat your butt.” Tamara shook her head and gritted her teeth, squirming as the water bloated her. “Oh, Daddy, it’s too much,” she protested, mere seconds later. “It hurts. I need to go to the toilet. Please.” Tamara sighed with relief when he snapped the clamp shut, reached under and massaged her swollen tummy. “Good girl,” he praised, as she calmed down and relaxed once more. “Let’s get the rest in.”

Gritting her teeth, Tamara remained silent as the water continued to fill her, but once more it became too much. Her stomach started to cramp and she wailed in distress. “It’s okay, baby girl. Daddy’s here,” he said, closing the clamp again. “Just relax. We’re almost done. Just a little more.”

“I’m sorry, Daddy. I can’t take anymore. I really need to go, now!” Tamara’s stomach churned and she squeezed her buttocks together, fearing she was about to have an accident.

“That’s a shame, but if you really can’t take anymore I’ll remove the nozzle.”

“Thank you, Daddy.”

“Then I’ll take you across my lap and smack your bottom until you’re ready to take the rest. So what’s it to be?”

Tamara gasped loudly. “No, Daddy, please don’t. I’ll try to take the rest, but I really am full.”

“That’s my good little girl,” he said, opening the clamp and massaging her tummy as the liquid bloated her. “Remember, Daddy’s in charge. I make the rules. Not you.”

“Oh, Daddy, it’s too much,” she protested, rearing up. His hand pressed against her back, forcing her forward.

“Just you stay there,” he warned, rubbing her back gently. “You’ve taken it all, but you need to hold it for fifteen minutes before you go on the potty.”

“Oh, but Daddy, I don’t think I can hold it for that long.”

Her daddy sighed loudly. “Well that would be a real shame, because then we’d have to start all over again.”

Gritting her teeth, Tamara clenched her buttocks together and vowed to hold on. She loved her daddy’s hands gently massaging her back and her tummy, but her stomach gurgled in protest. “Please, Daddy, I really need to go.”

“Sshh,” he comforted, rubbing the small of her back. “Two more minutes and you can go. Be Daddy’s good girl.” Nodding, Tamara held on, relief flooding through her when he lifted her down and removed the nozzle from her ass. Relief turned to shock when she saw Matron had lifted the lid off a potty seat and was pointing to it. Before she could object, her daddy had gripped her by the shoulders and steered her toward it. Whimpering as her sore behind was pressed against the seat, Tamara pleaded to be allowed to go to the toilet.

“No, the toilet’s for big girls,” matron said, as her daddy mopped her brow.

“Tammy, you’re my baby girl, and for the next twelve months you’ll do as I say. If you’re a good girl, you can use the toilet, but if I tell you to use the potty, that’s what you’ll do. Once a week you’ll be given enemas to keep you healthy. If necessary, I’ll also use suppositories on you, so it would be in your best interests to open your bowels for Daddy every day.”

Tamara’s cheeks burned with humiliation. Leaning forward, she rocked as she tried to clamp her buttocks together. She couldn’t use the potty in front of him. She just couldn’t.

“Please, go away. I can’t do it in front of you,” she protested tearfully.

Laughing, he took her hand and knelt down beside her. “You can resist all you want. Increasing the retention time will simply make your enema more effective. We can sit here all day as far as I’m concerned, but eventually you’ll have no choice in the matter.”

Tamara opened her mouth to object, but a cramp hit her. Doubling up, she panted as she desperately tried to hold on. Sweat rolled down her back and beaded on her brow as she struggled to halt the inevitable. Another cramp hit, followed by another, and Tamara whimpered as the effort required to clamp her buttocks together was immense.

“Tammy, are you having trouble obeying Daddy? Do you need me to take you across my knee?”

“Nooo,” she wailed, gripping his hand, her red face contorting as she finally lost control and the long-held contents of her bowels gushed into the potty below.

“Good girl, put yourself over Daddy’s knee and we’ll clean your bottom,” he said, pulling his reluctant little girl up to her feet and guiding her across his lap. Her bottom hole was wiped clean as Matron took the potty and the enema equipment away.

When Matron returned, Tamara was dismayed to see her replacing the potty bowl and hanging another filled bag on the hook.

“No,” she wailed, glancing up at her daddy. “No more, please.”

“It won’t take as long this time, and won’t be as hard to hold. It’s just a rinse to get rid of any soap residue. We don’t want you to have a sore tummy. Be a good girl and it’ll be over soon.”

The nozzle was slid back into her rectum and the water immediately started to fill her. Tamara was surprised that her daddy was right. It wasn’t as bad and she took it all in one go.

“What a good girl you are,” he said, helping her up, guiding her to the potty and removing the nozzle. Seated back on the makeshift toilet, Tamara closed her eyes and let nature take its course. She was pleased that it seemed to be mainly water this time, and she stood up the instant her daddy told her to, bending over and allowing him to wipe her bottom.

“Matron’s going to bathe you now. Be a good girl or you know what’ll happen,” he warned. Nodding, Tamara solemnly followed Matron to the bathroom, where she was helped into the filled tub. The water was lukewarm, with no bubbles, but Tamara sat silently as Matron scrubbed her clean, lifted her out, and rubbed her down with a rough towel.

Taken to what had been her bedroom for the past two days, Tamara was put into a fresh diaper and a pretty yellow dress. White ankle socks and white buckled shoes were added, and a couple of yellow ribbons tied around her hair bunches completed the outfit. Finally, she was given a bottle to drink.

When she walked downstairs ahead of Matron, the man who was to be her new daddy gasped. “Oh, don’t you look beautiful?” he enthused, rising from his seat to meet her at the foot of the staircase. Holding out his arms, he whisked her up and held her against him. Tamara wrapped her arms around his neck, her legs dangling as he playfully swung her from side to side.

Tamara smiled brightly. Although he had smacked her much harder than Matron had, he was much nicer than her. She really looked forward to spending time with him, and guessed her sentence wasn’t going to be as bad as she thought it might be. She was so relieved to be getting away from the strict matron, she felt like singing with joy.

“Right, we’d better make a move,” he said. “The traffic was a nightmare coming here. I hate driving in central London. It took over two hours to travel just forty miles.”

“I’m coming with you now?” Tamara asked. She had thought there would be a process to go through, if he decided he wanted to take her. She was thrilled that it seemed she was going immediately.

“Yes, I’m looking to take in a new little girl, you’re absolutely perfect, so there’s no time like the present.”

Tamara grinned.

Matron smiled at Mr. Adams. “Safe journey. And you be a good girl,” she said sternly to Tamara, “unless of course you’d like to come back here to serve your sentence.”

Tamara pouted and shook her head, before burrowing her face into her daddy’s shoulder.

“Tammy, what do you say to Matron before we leave?”

Lifting her head, Tamara looked at him blankly. “I’m not sure, Daddy.”

The butterflies fluttering in her tummy calmed immediately when he smiled brightly. “You thank Matron for looking after you so well. And you thank her for finding you a nice daddy.”

Tamara frowned. She had no desire to thank Matron for looking after her, but she couldn’t deny she had found her a lovely daddy. At least he seemed to be, if first impressions were anything to go by. She hated how Matron had so coldly punished her, but even though her daddy had made her bottom hurt a lot, he made it all better again by holding her and offering comfort. Her scowl deepened. Hell would freeze over before she thanked that old witch for anything.

“Tamara,” he said sternly, and her cheeks reddened as she heard the warning tone in his voice. “Bad-mannered little girls are rewarded with hard, bare-bottom spankings. Do you really want another one so soon?”

“No, Daddy. I’m sorry,” she whimpered, kissing his cheek and wrapping her legs around his waist. She most certainly did not want to be turned across his lap again, especially not when her bottom was still stinging.

Turning her head toward Matron, Tamara forced a smile. “Thank you for taking care of me, and thank you for finding me a nice, kind daddy.”

Matron’s eyebrows raised as her lips pursed in obvious disapproval. “Hopefully he won’t be too kind. Little girls learn best through the sound application of discipline to their rear ends. Your father has already failed you on that count.”

“I totally agree with you,” he replied, tapping a hand against Tamara’s bottom. “I have no intention of failing this little one. If she’s good, she’ll be rewarded in abundance. But if she chooses to be naughty, I’ll light a fire in her seat. Have no doubt about that.” Chewing her lower lip, Tamara clenched her buttocks. But although she was terrified at the prospect of another spanking, part of her yearned for the attention of this very attractive man.

“Very well. I trust you know what you’re doing, Mr. Adams. I’ll bid you good day, and wish you good luck.”

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