[Fiction] The Research & Correctional Facility

[SubbyAbi]

Chapter One

In the year 2008, the UK government passed on act of legislation that promised to reform the criminal justice system. It was clear that prisons were not the answer; and that criminals were being locked up for years, at high expense to the British taxpayer and at the end of it... reoffending rates were simply too high. Something had to change. The only problem was, nobody could decide on what to change it to.

There were lots of ideas thrown about - but what eventually came to pass was the "Criminal Experimental Reform Act", which gave the criminal justice system additional funding to experiment different methods of punishment on criminals between the ages of 18 and 30. The punishments would be monitored, and the criminals followed throughout their lives in longitudinal studies. After precisely one hundred years, the results of the experiment would be unsealed and released to parliament and the public - who would have the foundation to make an informed decision on the future of criminal justice.

I remembered studying the ground-breaking legislation in Sociology, in Sixth Form, and being outraged by it. No oversight, no transparency - it was going to be an international embarrassment when the documents were unsealed and the century of what would undoubtedly be abuse was released to the public. Not once during that module had I considered that I would some day find myself tangled up in it. It was completely my fault, and I pleaded guilty throughout the entire ordeal. I just wanted it over with. I had hurt somebody - they were still alive, but I had hurt them. My public defender said that typically a pretty 18-year-old girl would draw enough sympathy for a reduced sentence; but given the specifics of the victim, that wasn't likely. He was, however, able to turn what could've been five years in prison into three years at the "Research & Correctional Facility" or the RCF. I hated to do it, but two years seemed like a long time, from the stand.

That's how I found myself sat on a cheap plastic chair, in a white-lit room staring at the empty grey table in front of me. A door was behind it - presumably the one they'd taken me in through. I didn't know, I was blindfolded at the time. I didn't bother checking to see if it was locked, instead I just sat and waited - knowing that somebody would turn up to the futuristic room eventually. I didn't have to wait long. A tall, slender woman; with shoulder-length grey hair, curled elegantly into a lionesses' mane paced in. She seemed to be of Indian descent and in her mid to late 40s, though it was difficult to be sure - as her face was glowing with make-up.

"Hannah Bosworth," she stated, clutching a heavy file under one arm and reaching out for a handshake with the other, "My name is Miss Adwani, it's a pleasure to meet you."

I reached out and shook her hand, trying not to let my anxiety over the situation show. She gripped it firmly and looked into my eyes, as mine did everything they could to avoid her gaze. I gave a feeble acknowledgement, unable to muster any words. I'd always been good, I couldn't believe this was happening. How could I be so stupid to let this happen? Miss Adwani placed the large folder on the table and smiled in my direction. It was not the warmest of smiles, but it seemed like an attempt at one.

"Bless you. Is there anything that I can get for you? A drink, maybe?" I shook my head, not wanting this to drag on any longer than it needed to, "Okay, then I guess we'll make a start. Welcome to the RCF, Hannah, it's a delight to have you here. I am your assigned handler for the duration of your stay which I believe to be three years."

She paused to check the folder again and nodded, "Yes, three years. I don't know how much you've been told about this place, but we tend to run our punishments a little bit differently. Every subject in the facility has a slightly different punishment to the others. Some are very similar; some are complete wildcards. So, you'll be in a completely unique situation compared to the other subjects. Are you following me so far?"

I nodded. It was all information that I'd been told before. They would explore a wide range of different testing methods, and if one seemed effective - they would then invest more resources into it.

"I don't know if you'll be happy or sad to hear that you have been selected for quite a unique experiment. I must admit, I'm not sure how you're going to react to this - Hannah, darling," she said, immediately snapping her fingers.

As if on command, the door behind her and a guard (in a grey uniform with a black mask) stepped forward with something in his hands, that he immediately passed over to Miss Adwani. I didn't get a clear view of it until it was slammed down on the table in front of me. It appeared to be a slab of a cotton plastic material.

"Do you know what this is, Hannah?"

I shook my head nervously, certain that I didn't want to know the answer.

"This is an adult diaper. It's what you're going to be spending the next three years in, darling."

I would love to say that I stood up and yelled in defiance. That I screamed and called Miss Adwani every name under the sun; making it absolutely clear that I would never in a million years wear an adult diaper. That would be lying, though. Instead, I sat there - my blood running cold and my throat unable to muster a sound as I looked at the bulky diaper that sat in front of me. I knew she wasn't joking, or bluffing, or anything like that - she was completely serious. That was the moment it became clear what I was dealing with.

I sat there numbly, making no effort of resistance as a guard appeared at either side of me; picked me up and held me onto the table. I recall being surprised that they needed two of them, given my small frame; but I suppose they expected an extra burst of adrenaline to fight back. There was no fight-back. I started into emptiness, trying my best not to cry as Miss Adwani removed my beige bottoms and tossed them aside. I held my breath as she slipped down my black panties and closed my eyes as the guards lifted my ass up to slide the padding of the diaper beneath me. One cough of baby powder and four tapes later, I was secured into my first ever adult diaper. The guards did not relent, however.

"Now Hannah, I suspect in time - that you will earn my trust and will learn to behave yourself; but for now, I am going to need a little bit of extra security," she said, taking something large and metallic from one of the guards. "I hope you won't hold this against me, but this is a belt which will hold your diaper in place - until I'm ready to remove it."

I made a gasping sound as the cold metal pressed against my lower stomach and clicked into place. Miss Adwani then took another metal strip and attached one end to the front of my stomach and one end to the back, the arch going beneath my diapered crotch. It clicked into place, as she twisted a key into a mechanism behind my back. I didn't need to bother touching the metal to know that it wasn't going to budge without either the key or very heavy equipment... which I was very unlikely to find in the facility.

With my diaper now impossible to remove, the guards relented and I was able to sit up and nervously hop off of the table and back to my chair. My handler returned to her seat opposite, the more confident expression on her face making it very clear that the dynamic in the room was not the same that it had been thirty seconds ago.

"Good girl, Hannah. I think most of our subjects would've put up at least some fight - but you were very brave," I couldn't tell whether she meant to sound so insulting with her words. "All of the handlers have a key to your diaper, so you will come to either myself or one of them when you need a change."

"A- a- change?" I burst out, the first words I'd properly spoken in a long while, brought on by the sudden surprise of what she had said.

She laughed and shook her head in disbelief, "I thought you were supposed to be a smart one, darling. How were you planning on removing that to use the bathroom? You'll need to find somebody to change you out of your mess when the time comes. Now, is that understood?"

My face went white as bone, as I gave a weak nod.

"I said - is that understood?" she repeated, firmer.

"Yes, Miss," I said, bowing my head to hide the rage that lingered on my face.

"Good girl," she said, as she tossed me a pleated grey skirt, "Now put this on to cover up that fluffy underwear of yours, it's time to show you around the Facility."

[SubbyAbi]

Chapter Two

The plastic of my diaper crinkled with every footstep as I walked down the bright white corridor outside of the meeting room. The harsh white light did nothing to conceal the redness of my face, blushing at the knowledge that Miss Adwani could hear every single rustle of my diaper. The provided skirt just about concealed it from view, but it didn't leave much room for error and I found my hand fidgeting with the back of the skirt, making sure that it wasn't riding upwards and showing off my padded behind to the empty corridor behind me.

"These are the meeting rooms," she explained, not bothering to stop like a proper tour guide would, "You'll typically only find yourself here upon entry, upon leaving or if you've been a very, very bad girl. Subjects aren't welcome on this floor, so hopefully - you won't be back here until three years have passed, little Hannah."

After a few snaking turns and a few points where Miss Adwani had to stop to scan a key-card, we exited out into a more open space with a large elevator door. The number "-2" was painted on the wall in a large font next to it. The door pinged open and she stepped inside, I followed nervously behind her into the metallic box. On the wall was long chain of numbers, ranging from -1, at the top, to -15 at the bottom.

"Say goodbye to the surface," Miss Adwani said, patting me on the shoulder, as she pressed the "-4" button - sparking the doors to close and the elevator to zip downwards.

I wasn't sure how serious she was. Were we actually heading deep underground, or had we started from a very high point? I tried to think about the route that they'd taken me while I was blindfolded, but that felt like years ago now - despite the fact it was within the hour. After less than a moment, the door pinged open and we stepped outside into a tiled area. Directly in front of us was a balcony, which Miss Adwani beckoned me to approach. I stepped forward and couldn't contain a gasp as I looked down. I wasn't sure what I anticipated, but it wasn't something to the scale of the facility that stood beneath. I looked down upon eight more balconies beneath me, each forming a large oval that looked down upon the massive atrium below. We were too high up to make out details, but I could see bustling crowds of people down there.

"Welcome home," she beamed, placing one hand on each of my shoulders, from behind. I kept thinking that I'd reached the moment where things had dawned on me.

She went on to show me the large cafeteria space that spanned the entirety of floor -4. The space was huge, but she reassured me that it wasn't even large enough to hold everybody at once, so they had to stagger meals. "It's a very tight ship," she explained.

"You can find the classrooms on 10 and 11, you'll be expected to attend according to the schedule provided. Sports facilities are at 12..." she took a moment to look me up and down and scoffed, "Not that I think you'll be interested. 13 is the atrium that you see below - that's where you're expected to be, if you have no reason to be elsewhere."

"What about 14 and 15?" I asked, remembering that the elevator had buttons that went lower.

She seemed impressed that I remembered, but didn't reward me with a clear answer, "Be a good girl, and you may be so lucky as to never find out, my darling."

We stepped back into the elevator, and she took the two of us down to -9. We stepped out to an identical balcony, only lower in the structure. Behind us, however, was a wall - with multiple winding doorways. "Follow," she instructed, as she led me through a series of maze-like corridors.

"Good afternoon, Miss Adwani," echoed each subject that we passed in the hall - all female, all wearing outfits that were different; yet all formal. None of them acknowledged me with anything more than an interested glare.

"8 and 9 are for the girls, 6 and 7 for the boys," she explained as we passed multiple wooden doors - all with numbers engraved onto them. After a while of twisting around, we arrived at a door with 909 engraved onto it. "Here we are, this is your dorm. Get yourself inside and settled. There is a device on your bed, make sure that it is turned on and working; it will instruct you on what to do next."

I wasn't given the time for questions, as she opened the door and shooed me inside. As the door slammed shut behind me, I stared in shock at the tiny room ahead. It was barely larger than a wide corridor, with enough foot room to walk to the bed and to the door. However, the greater surprise came from the fact that it was not one bed; but two. Crammed into the small living space were two beds, each with a wooden box at the end of it. Both were made up neatly with pastel pink bedding. It would be impossible to tell them apart if not for the wooden signs that were nailed into the wall above each. "HANNAH" on one, "POLLY" on the other.

"I guess I have a roommate," I mumbled to myself, as I looked at my bed and sat on it. It wasn't the most comfortable bed in the world, but it was certainly more comfortable than how I imagined a prison bed would be. I considered just going to sleep there and then, before I remembered what my handler had told me about the device. It wasn't on the bed, as she told me it would be. It seemed logical to check the chest at the end of my bed.

I shifted the wooden top and looked inside. Sure enough, a pocket-sized tablet sat neatly on top of a stack of... oh, great. A large pile of more adult diapers; identical the one I was currently wearing. I snatched the tablet and closed the chest immediately, terrified that somebody would walk in and see what I was hiding. Breathing heavily, I resorted to sitting back on my bed and booting up the tablet.

"Good afternoon, Hannah," the tablet burst out in a robotic feminine voice, "My name is the Subject Assignment & Routine Automator, but you can call me SARA. It is nice to meet you."

There was an awkward pause, as if it expected me to say something back. I did not indulge.

"My job is to answer any questions that you have. For example, if you need to find your handler - I can provide you with her location. Most importantly, however, my job is to tell you where you need to be; by providing you your routine. To hear your routine, please say 'SARA, tell me my routine'."

"SARA, tell me my routine."

The robot replied immediately, "To hear your routine, please say 'SARA, please tell me my routine."

I rolled my eyes, but obliged, knowing that somebody had coded that in specifically to gain that reaction, "SARA, please tell me my routine."

"Your current assignment is to stay in your dormitory," SARA replied, cheerfully, "In 30 minutes time, you are expected to make your way to the Dining Hall for your evening meal. Please make yourself at home."

I nodded to myself and re-perched myself on my bed. I didn't have my phone, I didn't have any books, I had nothing to do with myself. I spent a few minutes just sitting in silence, before my attention turned to downstairs. I pulled down my skirt and examined the diaper that I was wearing. It was held very firmly in place by the metal - though I was sure that I could damage it, if I really wanted to. What would that achieve, though? The good news was that I didn't need to use the bathroom just yet... but it wouldn't be long.

Another, more sinister thought crossed my mind, and that gave me another horrific realization. I considered masturbating. Rubbing myself through the padding of the diaper and giving myself some enjoyment, in this very bleak situation. However, the metal belt seemed to precisely cover any area that would be suitable for rubbing. Was that intentional? Surely, not.

With nothing else to turn my attention to, I looked at the only other puzzle piece in the room. My roommate's chest. It was unlocked, as mine was; and given that mine contained a hint to my punishment, I wondered if theirs considered a clue towards theirs. I spent a full minute talking myself out of it, before curiosity got the better of me and I found myself opening the top of their crate. It all felt extremely lacklustre when I found nothing but the most basic dresses, tops and panties. I found myself inspecting every item of clothing, desperate to find something wrong - desperate for proof that I wasn't the only person going through a fucked up form of torture right now.

I was sat on Polly's bed, checking over a pair of panties when I was startled by a cough - my eyes shooting upwards in horror. In the doorway, stood a tall brunette with fair skin.

"What are you doing with my underwear?" she scowled, closing the door behind her.

[SubbyAbi]

Chapter Three

I didn't realise that girls like Polly existed. Or, at least, I didn't realize they existed out in the wild - beyond TV screens. She was stunningly gorgeous. A strong-jawed face, bronzed and contoured perfectly with make-up; eyeshadow painted delicately around each eye. Her dark brown hair was tied into a high ponytail, that ran down her back. Most fascinatingly, however, was her outfit. I was wearing a cheap, beige t-shirt - something that I'd been provided before entering, and my basic grey skirt. I'd assumed that most of my fellow residents would be wearing similar outfits. Her outfit looked like it could've cost thousands. A white dress, that tightly hugged her body, with the upper section (and sleeves) made of a see-through fabric, showing off her cleavage. Stitched into the fabric was some beautiful floral embroidery.

My face flushed red with embarrassment at her arrival and without thinking, I flung the panties across the room in a panic. "I- I- It's not what it looks- I was just curious," I burst out, trying to find the right words that wouldn't make life with my new roommate start in the most awkward way possible.

She stood at the door for a moment, one hand on her hip looking at me suspiciously before her tough exterior finally broke and she shook her head with a cackling laugh. "Don't worry about it," she said, a floaty-pitched voice - traces of an American accent visible within it.

She sauntered over towards me, it becoming clear as she approached that there was a full foot difference in height between the two of us. Her hands snatched the panties from the bed and tossed them back into her crate. She then turned to me, paused for just a second and then pulled me into an embrace, pushing my face into her chest as she did so.

"It's so nice to meet you, Hannah, I'm sorry - you must be having such a shit day," she said, as she held me tightly. I tried to make sense of the tonal whiplash, going from complete fear of this young woman's reaction to now experiencing my first actual bit of human warmth in what felt like a long while. My brain couldn't make sense of it, and decided to simply and silently cry into Polly's chest, instead. She stroked the back of my head, and held me for a moment before I was composed enough to break the hug.

She took a seat on her bed and I took a seat on mine. We couldn't sit directly parallel to each other, as there wasn't enough space in the walkway between the two beds for both of us to take up post there. Instead, we sat slightly out of sync. "I've been here nearly a year now," she explained after a moment of enjoying the silence of our emotions, "I still remember the first day. I wish I could reassure you and tell you it's the hardest, but you've got many harder days to come, I'm afraid."

I nodded, appreciating the honesty of her words. Sniffles poured of my nostrils, as snot dribbled down my chin. "You don't- you don't understand what they've done to me," I choked out, thinking of the thick padding between my legs; knowing that it was only a matter of time before it became soaked with my own pee.

"The diapers, right?" Polly asked, quickly, before then realizing that she wasn't supposed to know about them.

"Wha- how did you?"

My eyes shot to the crate at the end of my bed, then to Polly and then to her crate. Ah. For the first time since arriving at the RCF, I laughed and shook my head. "Guess we're even then."

Polly laughed too - a strange laugh, that sounded almost like a pig squealing. "Sorry, I couldn't help myself. They brought the crate in and I was so excited to find out about my new roommate. I was very, um, confused."

I nodded, "Me too. When I woke up this morning, I didn't think that I'd be committing the next three years of my life to being in adult bloody diapers."

Polly smiled, "That's how it goes here. When I first came here, I didn't think they were going to pump me full of hormones and make me a girl, but here we both are."

"Wha-?"

Was she joking? Suddenly, I found myself hyper-analysing Polly's facial structure and her body, trying to make sense of this off-the-cut comment. Her face was so beautiful and feminine, and her boobs too real for that to be a serious remark... right?

As if she could read my mind, Polly shook her head, "I'm not joking, Hannah. There's quite a few of us - undergoing "forced feminization therapy". A couple going the other way too. I'm not really supposed to talk about it, but since I know about your diapers - it only seems fair."

"So, like..." I shook my head in disbelief, suddenly incredibly jealous at how much more traditionally beautiful Polly was than me, "What pronouns am I supposed to use?"

Polly giggled and shook her head, "I'm not transgender. This is completely against my will. But, you have to use she/her pronouns and call me Polly, or they'll punish both of us. Technically, they refer to me as a 'sissy', I think so they don't get me confused with the actual women that are here."

I nodded, feeling a little bit of shame at my previous jealousy over Polly's situation, it did not sound fun at all. "I'm sorry, that really sucks. I shouldn't be complaining about my diapers."

"Don't worry, you get used to it around here. There's a lot of variation in punishments. Some are way worse than mine, and some are so, so much better," Polly explained, "If yours stops at the diapers, it's still probably on the worse side of things."

"Can you please not tell anyone about them, I really want to- wait, what do mean if it stops at diapers?"

Polly blushed, "Forget I said that, sorry! I didn't mean anything by it."

I couldn't forget that she'd said it, unfortunately. My mind began to race. I'd thought this was the extent of my humiliation here, but was it going to get worse? Did Polly know something that I didn't? Despite my mind exploring all avenues, I decided not to pressure Polly about it; already feeling guilty about searching through her underwear.

"Okay," I sighed, "But, can you please not tell anyone about the diapers? At least for now."

Polly nodded, "Of course. People are going to be curious though, they're going to want to know what your punishment is - and the longer it takes you tell them, the worse they're going to assume it is."

"I'm fine with that," I nodded, "So, what's-"

I was cut off by the voice of SARA, coming from both of our devices. "It is now time for the evening meal. Please make your way to the Dining Hall immediately."

Polly nodded and slipped her SARA into her pocket, beckoning me to do the same. "We better get going - they don't like it when we're late. Plus, I want to get good seats."

She stood up and made her way to the door, turning to me and giving a joking grin, "Come along, diaper girl."

I blushed, but smiled - able to recognize it as a joke, "Right after you, sissy girl."

Polly laughed, "We're going to be fun. I can tell."