DREAMS Daycare - Chapter 5

Naptime went off with only a minor incident.

The sissies were all arranged on their mats that were way too close to each other, and given blankies much too small for them. They were grouped according to the ‘Relief’ schedule on their charts. Those with strict chastity/orgasm restrictions were sectioned away from those that had free reign. The girls called the latter section the “Huggie Humpers”.

All of the Littles were encouraged (read: ordered) to snuggle up close to each other. Peter had to wrap his arms around the sissy in front of him, and felt another press into him from behind, spreading his filth even further. The man behind him must not have been caged, because even through both of their padding he could feel something poking him prominently.

As the soft sounds of lullabies filled the air, all that could be heard were the whispered conversations of the supervising Sitters, the crinkling of the Huggie Humpers rubbing themselves against the floor or against each other, and Parker’s pitiful pleas from the Diaper Genie.

It was impossible for Peter to fall asleep in such a short time, and it wasn’t helped by the man behind him grunting and humping his bottom ever so softly. Peter tried to protest, but the man’s arms were wrapped tightly around him, holding him still. All Peter could do was lay there, sucking on his penis paci, while the man rubbed himself against him. Judging by the breath panting in his ear, he must have been close, but he also must have gotten a little carried away, because the Sitters were able to take notice.

“Francis…” one of them said, standing over them. “I don’t think your Mommy would appreciate what you’re doing”

Frank immediately ceased movement, like he was hoping it would make him invisible. Peter felt a hand grab Frank's arm around him and pull him upward.

“You’re lucky the Genie is occupied.” the Sitter said, dragging him by the ear over to the punishment section. She snapped her fingers and pointed down to a mat on the floor against the wall. It had tiny rubber spikes poking upward. They had some give, but enough to make it comfortable in any way. Frank whimpered as she made him kneel down upon it, facing the wall. Peter thought that would be the end of it, but apparently she wasn’t done. “Or maybe you’re not lucky at all,” she said, consulting the chart. “Looks like your Mommy’s punishment for inappropriate touching is to give you a diaper rash…”

Frank had to have his hands cuffed behind his back while one of the girls went to a flower pot. She made sure to put on gloves before pulling out a branch of stinging nettles. Peter peeked an eye open just enough to watch him writhe as they pressed the plant inside his diaper, directly on his penis.

No one got much sleep during all that screaming.

After ‘nap’ time, Peter was given his bottle with the last condom emptied inside of it. This was the yucky bottle. Not just because of the cum, but because it was filled with Jenn’s special ‘formula’. He still didn’t know exactly what was in it. Some fiber, definitely, judging by how sturdy his stool had been. But there had to be something in there that was making his nipples hurt. Whatever it was, he could only have the bottle of “special” formula on a strict schedule.

Casey checked her watch as Peter reluctantly gulped down the last of the chalky liquid. “Awww! Looks like your Stew Time won’t be up until after we’re already out on the Playground…” she said unsympathetically.

“Can’t you just change me out there?” Peter asked beseechingly.

Casey considered that for a moment, and only a moment.

“Na.”

******

The Playground wasn’t the type you would see at a usual Daycare. It wasn’t even something out of a park or schoolyard. Instead, picture it more like a military training ground, and instead of ‘play time’, it was more like bootcamp.

“MOVE YOU PAMPERED PANSIES! LET’S GO!” Michelle shouted after blowing her ear-splitting whistle.

Peter huffed and puffed as he army crawled below the cross-hatching ropes. He had to get so low, his diaper drug across the ground. It pressed his cage into his pelvis painfully, and his drooping doo doo diaper slid like a snail behind him. Having a poopy diaper is bad enough, having to run and sweat outside in it is a whole ‘nother level of uncomfortable.

He was lagging behind the others, who were now able to crawl with their arms and knees outstretched once they cleared the ropes above them. Peter glanced over at Casey, she did not look happy.

At the end of each day, all Littles were sent home with ‘report cards’ for their behavior that day. Including how well they participated in the obstacle course. Or ‘playtime’, as they called it. Generally those who were more ‘enthusiastic’ about the proceedings scored better on their daily marks.Not to mention the Sitters usually had a side pot of bets going. Peter was basically a racehorse for the girls’ entertainment. Mrs. Olsen was skeptical at first, but decided it was a good incentive for the girls to get the AB’s in better shape.

Peter immediately picked up the pace. Casey could inflict some devious punishments on him if she wanted to. But as long as he was giving his best, she was usually pretty lenient.

He winced as he raised up to the ladder, the spiked booties pressed into his heels when he put his weight on them. A stronger man would just use their arms to climb up–Peter did not fit that category. Gingerly putting his feet on each rung, he used what little arm strength he had to keep his full weight off of them. He probably should have tried climbing up using his knees, but he doubted his shins could handle that.

It was a grueling, arduous process to get to the top of the ladder, only to be faced with a long, spiraling slide to take him right back down.

“Get down that slide, pipsqueak!” Michelle, the loudest of the betasitters, barked.

Peter knew he couldn’t hesitate anymore, but the way the mush smushed when he sat on top of it gave him the ickiest of feelings. He took one deep breath, then scooched himself forward. The slide careened his body back and forth, but Peter wouldn’t be surprised if he left a Hershey stripe down the length of it. The mess was covering every crevice of his bits inside his diaper.

He grudgingly dropped to his hands and knees once he hit the ground. The diaper wasn’t even drooping anymore, just sticking to his backside. He made the last, embarrassing crawl to cross the finish line, much after most of the others and much to the jeers of the spectating sitters.

******

“This is gonna be…a bad one.” Casey sighed, plopping the diaper bag down next to him on the mat. She could hardly keep her eyes from watering, but she fought down the urge to gag. Most of the sitters seemed to be well trained at that. I guess when you change enough of grown men’s stinky diapers you develop something of an immunity to it. Peter squirmed on the floor, embarrassed by the dramatic show she was giving, but otherwise happy to hopefully be rid of this disgusting diaper.

Casey put a mask on to cover the smell. Peter had no idea how much it helped, but he watched as she closed her eyes, and put on that familiar, patronizing face.

“Oookay Petey! Why don’t you start by telling me what you did in your diapurr today?” she prompted.

Peter hated having to voice things like this. It made it that much more demeaning. But he didn’t really have a choice, did he?

“I…pooped my diaper.” He grumbled.

Her eyebrows lifted, “Is that how wittle babies are supposed to talk?”

Of course…it wasn’t enough for Peter to have to verbalize his little ‘accidents’, he had to use the stupid lispy baby voice too.

He sighed, “Petey went poo poo’s in hith pampurrs.”

“I’m sorry…I couldn’t hear you…”

It took everything he had to not roll his eyes. Instead, he took a deep, long breath, finding the appropriate pitch.

“I’s did a doo doo in my diapurrs, mith Casey!!”

Even beneath her mask he could see her smirking. “Is that all you did in the huge pair of Huggies you’re wearing?”

He squirmed, “No’s…”

“What else did you do?”

“Petey went pee pee’s…”

“Hmm, any other messes you made in there? Perhaps a…sticky one?”

Peter flushed, shaking his head ‘no’ with disappointed frustration. “No Ms. Casey, no cum cums from me…”

“And why is that, little one? Don’t you want to make cummies?” she teased, obviously knowing the answer.

“Mhmm!!” Peter nodded furiously, “but I’s can’t because Mommy seth I’m too much of a wooser and a piggie to get to do squirties.”

“Awww…that’s too bad!” Casey said without the slightest hint of genuine pity. “Whelp, are you ready to get this big, wet, stinky diaper that you made all cleaned up?”

Again, everyone knew the answer, but it was all for the humiliating display.

When Casey was finally satisfied, she put his penis pacifier in his mouth. They say it makes the AB’s feel small when that happens. If Peter was any indication, they were right. Casey removed the tabs of his diaper one by one, taking a deep breath before finally opening it. She gasped and did the exaggerated show of acting surprised at what a huge, disgusting mess it was. She then began the arduous process of actually cleaning the mess.

The front of the diaper took the brunt of the damage. Any experienced diaper changer knows to use the front flap to scrape away most of the filth. But because Peter had to do literal mudslides on the playground, it did not make for an easy clean-up.

“I’m gonna have to remove your cage…” Casey sighed after using what was probably her 12th wipe. “Can I trust you to hold still while it’s off?”

Peter nodded with the pacifier still in his mouth, but Casey didn’t seem convinced after what happened yesterday. She looked up somewhere behind him and crooked a finger for help. Before he knew it, four Sitters appeared out of nowhere. They were probably all done with their much easier diaper changes, so they each gathered around one of Peter’s limbs and pinned them down. Peter knew it was best to hold still anyway, he didn’t want to end up in the Genie, or worse, with bad marks to go home with. His bottom was still bruised from the day before when he received a less-than-stellar report from Mrs. Olsen herself.

Casey pulled the key from her necklace and used it to click the tiny lock open. Ropes of constantly dripping precum stuck to the cap as she pulled it off. She hardly got her hand away before his cock was standing at full attention.

The sitter holding his arm had to take one hand off so she could use it to stifle her giggles. The other girls exchanged knowing looks.

Peter swore it used to be bigger. Honest! It was the fact that he was kept in a cage so long that it had shrunk to this size. He never got to be hard like this anymore!

But the girls didn’t seem to believe any of that. They got quite a few laughs at his expense. Peter hoped they were just doing it as some sort of humiliation tactic, and not because they genuinely thought his penis was that small. He was snapped out of his reverie though when he felt a sharp smack against the head of his penis.

“Put that tiny thing away! No baby boners from you!” Casey snarled menacingly.

Peter’s peter quickly retreated to its flaccid state after a few more painful flicks from Casey’s nails.

“I swear to fucking god if you cum while I wipe you I will make your life a living hell!” Casey warned, fearing for her own job if Jenn got word that she made her pathetic husband cum.

Peter wanted to tell her his life was already hell at this point, but decided to hold his tongue and just keep sucking the rubber penis in his mouth.

Casey gave the most rapid two swipes possible with the wipes. Able to easily cover his little acorn of a penis and balls with one palm. The cold wipe, as well as her soft hand felt amazing on his constantly caged cock, but he hardly had any time to enjoy it.

That didn’t stop his dick from springing to attention once again, though, which Casey quickly flicked several times before snapping him back into that stupid cage.

******

“Once upon a time, there was a silly little sissy who thought he was a man.” Madalyn read, turning the book around so that all of the sissies sitting crisscross-applesauce could view the picture of a pitiful looking guy wearing a pink tutu. “Does this look like a man to you babies?”

“Noooo!!!” the class called in unison, knowing that any other response was unacceptable.

Every week, one of the Sitters was tasked with coming up with a ‘lesson’ for the AB’s to ‘learn’. It was usually something trivial, and often designed to just humiliate them and remind them of their place.

“And one day, the little sissy said ‘I want to be a real man!’” Madalyn said in a silly little high-pitched voice. “Does it look like this little loser could ever be a real man?”

She flipped the book around to show them a picture of the man pulling up the skirt of his tutu to show an incredibly small micropenis. It was so tiny, Peter could hardly see it from his vantage point. It didn’t even feel like a lie when he called “NOOO” with the other–also poorly endowed–sissies around him.

“Nooo he certainly doesn’t,” Madalyn echoed before continuing. “So one day, the sissy decided to take off his diaper–is that something a sissy baby should do by herself?”

“NOOOO”

“He talked back to his Mommy…”

“BOOOO”

“And he threw all sorts of silly tantrums.”

“Bad Baby! Bad Baby! Bad Baby!” They all chanted in unison in front of the Sitters that encouraged them to do so. Clapping their hands with every syllable.

“But thankfully, along came a big ‘ole Bull in shining armor!”

“Yayyy!!” some of the sissies cheered, some of them might have even meant it.

“The Bull was BIG and strong! He was a REAL man!” Madalyn exclaimed dramatically, “Does this look like a real man to you?”

The picture was of an overly exaggerated muscular man with a huge dick long enough to slap against his kneecaps

“YESSS!!” Everyone shouted, some sissies clapped in authentic excitement, one of them even started rubbing the front of his diaper.

“So, the big strong man came to put the naughty sissy in her place.” Madalyn continued, “He bent the sissy over and smacked his little hiney! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!”

“SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!” the sissies clapped their hands in rhythm again.

“And so, the silly sissy learned that he will never be a real man. Just a pathetic little diaper pissing prissy gurl. The Mommy was sooo happy that her Bull in shining armor was there to save the day, she gave him a BIG kiss on his penis, and they lived happily. ever. after.” Madalyn trailed off, but there was one more page, “Except of course, for the silly little sissy!”

******

“What are you going to write about today, sissy boi?” Casey mewed, placing a purple Crayon down on the table in front of him.

Peter shrugged, arms crossed, looking done for the day.

“You’ve been well behaved for the most part today, don’t mess it up now.” She warned.

That got Peter to soften. He let out a deep sigh and instinctively picked up the Crayon with his right hand, but Casey’s glare quickly reminded him to switch it to his left. He stared blankly at the equally empty paper.

“You can write what you remember about pussy even though you’ll never get it again,” Casey suggested, “but you probably don’t even remember what it feels like, do you? I bet you could write me a book on the feeling of a warm, wet widdle diapurr though!!!”

Peter tried not to blush but was nowhere even close to successful.

“Oh! I know!” Casey exclaimed, “You got a new Daddy, didn’t you? How about you write him a letter?”

Peter didn’t like the idea of that at all, but Casey seemed to have her mind made up. She gave him a prodding look, tilting her chin up expectantly. Peter knew he didn’t have any other choice.

The waxy, rounded point of the crayon meandered across the paper clumsily, he still hadn’t gotten used to his left hand, but he also didn’t have a clue what he should write to his best friend that was fucking his wife.

“Why don’t you start by thanking him?” Casey proposed, “thank him for giving your wife a proper pounding. For giving her something other than your little pin-dick. For not cumming after only a few seconds. For satisfying her needs. For being a real man.”

Peter tried to keep up but his limited dexterity fell behind. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Casey was giving him useful material. If he could just copy her words verbatim, this might be easy. But she was going so fast, rattling off all of his shortcomings when it comes to being a man. He scribbled down as much as he could, accidentally breaking the crayon in half along the way. His shaky letters looked like something even a 1st grader would laugh at. But Casey didn’t critique his handwriting, in fact, she made him intentionally misspell words or write the letters backwards to make it look more infantile.

When it was done, she read it over, unable to contain her mirth. But she still wasn’t satisfied. “Why don’t you draw a little picture too? Maybe of Daddy fucking Mommy while you’re off in the corner? It would be sooo cute! They could even hang it on the fridge!”

Peter grumbled, wriggling in his diaper while he drew three stick figures. Casey didn’t think Trevor had big enough muscles or abs, so she had him draw it over. Peter was never great at drawing–even with his dominant hand–so the picture looked absolutely horrid, especially with the pitiful dress he had to color onto his awkward looking pictorial version of himself. It all looked incredibly ridiculous.

“It’s beautiful Petey!” Casey cooed patronizingly, folding the paper in half and putting it with his other little creations from that day. “One last diaper change before we go?”

Peter nodded absentmindedly, it hadn’t even registered that his diaper was wet until she mentioned it.

“Awww…too bad!” Casey said after checking his diaper. “But we can still use it to write your report card!”

******

The final task of the day involved the AB’s laying on their tummies in the mat area. Peter could feel Casey lifting his skirt and popping the cap off of a large sharpie, followed by the familiar squeaking that came when she slid the tip over his crinkly diaper.

He tried to make out what she was writing, but it was too difficult to decipher through the padding. He knew the basic parameters they took into account: Feeding Time, ‘Changies’, Cummies, Playtime, and Conduct. The sitters would write all of said criterion vertically down the back of the AB’s go-home diaper, and provide a ‘grade’ of each one for that day ranging from “E” for excellent all the way to “U” for unacceptable.

Peter listened for the tell-tale 4 strokes of a capital “E”, but it was impossible to tell what Casey was writing no matter how much he concentrated.

“You’re going to get a ‘U’ in playtime for just sitting there.”

Peter’s stomach plummeted. Sure, he may have hesitated at points, but he felt he at least deserved an ‘S’ for trying and even finishing. It took him more than a second to realize it wasn’t Casey that said it. Instead, it was the girl next to him that was now having to hold the legs of the flailing sissy while she wrote out the big black “U”.

“No! NOO!!!” The sissy whined, “Please! My Daddy is going to kill me! He’ll blister my bottom right in front of my wife! Please! PLEASE!! She already thinks I’m a fucking loser!!!”

But the sitter had no sympathy. “Just for that little tantrum, you can expect a ‘U’ in conduct as well!!”

The blubbering continued, but a quick paci in the mouth muffled all of that.

Peter snapped back to reality when he felt a gentle pat on his poofy diaper.

“All done!” Casey smiled, but it was impossible to tell whether it was soothing or sinister. Peter had been playing back every single thing he did that day, trying to determine if anything could be deemed unsatisfactory. If there was, Jenn would most certainly make sure he wasn’t able to sit for a week, even with the padding of his diapers.

Peter thought about crawling over to a mirror, but Casey quickly ushered him out.

“Your ride is here,” she said after some inaudible chatter over her radio.

Peter pressed his hands and knees into the mats and maneuvered his way through the shelves and Centers, relieved to have the day over with. He remembered how much he hated school when he was a kid, what he wouldn’t give to attend that now instead of this stupid-ass daycare.

The light stung his eyes when the door opened. He searched the line of cars for Jenn’s Range Rover, but it was nowhere to be found.

It wasn’t until he saw the red Chevy truck that he remembered.

“The guy in there is sooo hot!” one of the sitters said to Casey as she strode back to the building after dropping off her Little. Another set of sitters joined Casey in stride, eager to see this supposed hunk.

Peter’s head hung a little lower as he shuffled along in his diaper. At least he got to walk on his own two feet now. He couldn’t imagine how scalding hot that pavement would be on his knees.

“Hello, ladies.” Trevor said through his rolled down window.

“Heyyyyy!!!” The girls, including Casey, cheered. Ogling Trevor like he was Henry Cavill incarnate.

“How was the little guy today?” he asked, not seeming to be bothered by the group of college girls surrounding his vehicle for no other reason than to admire him.

“He was fine.” Casey said, making Peter’s heart leap a bit, “But we’ll see what Miss Jenn thinks of his report card.”

“Or what you think” one of the sitters said, batting her eyelashes at Trevor while Casey opened the back door to the Chevy.

“Oh, front seat is fine.” Trevor said. “Little Petey here has some…thanking me…to do for being nice enough to pick him up!”

Neither the girls, nor Peter, knew what that meant until they saw Trevor unfasten his zipper. The sitters didn’t even look away. In fact, they looked closer as he pulled his already erect cock out.

“Better get to work, buddy.” Trevor smiled to Peter in the passenger seat, putting his hand on the back of Peter’s head. “You don’t want me to give your Mommy a bad report, do you?”

Peter could still hear the girls laughing over the sounds of him slurping and sucking on Trevor’s cock as they pulled out of the circle drive of the Daycare.

To Be Continued?