It was a regular Tuesday morning and Timmy Lovell awoke to the sound of Harriet readying things in the bathroom while humming to herself. He felt a shiver travelling down through his spine at the thought of the morning proceedings he would have to endure, and yet his penis was rapidly engorging, pressing firmly against the soft fabric of the cloth nappy she made him wear at night. Although Timmy was almost thirteen now, his foster mother still kept him on a strict hygienic regimen with very little consideration for the poor boy’s modesty.