Sent Back and Diapered at Daycare — Part 9

The following story contains adult content and is intended only for adult readers over the age of 18. Any characters depicted in adult situations are over the age of 18. This story is entirely fictional and has been written and shared for entertainment purposes only.

Miss Turner closed and locked the door of the diaper changing room behind us, then unzipped my crawl-suit onesie down the back.

She directed me to step out of the garment, and as I did, I was met by my reflection in the changing room’s floor-to-ceiling mirror. It occurred to me that the mirror might just be there for the purposes of humiliating overgrown diapered little ones like me. I was immediately confronted and appalled by the sight of my own reflection.

There I was with my drooping diaper, pink mittens, and oversized pacifier. My previously white diaper was now stained dark yellow, visibly mushy and clearly filled to the very brim with my pee. I reflexively reached my mitten covered hand down and pressed it against my crotch, cringing as I felt the mushy squish against my boy parts.

“Oh yuck, you really did lots of leakies in your jammies, little boy. Look, they’re soaked!” Miss Turner said, holding the pink onesie up to show me the dark stains on the crotch and legs. “It’s a good thing these are made to be absorbent for leaky boys like you, but we’ll still have to wash them. At least we know you need even thicker diapers, and maybe even some plastic pants to boot. You certainly shouldn’t be in any big-kid clothes again anytime soon, that’s for sure.”

I blushed and looked away in shame as she put my onesie in the laundry. She then led me over to the changing table, abruptly lifting me up by my armpits and setting me down on my butt on the crinkly changing pad.

My bottom immediately experienced a fresh, mushy squish of my saturated diaper. I winced in renewed embarrassment and disgust, and part of me began to worry that I had even involuntarily peed a lot more than I realized, given how absolutely soaked my diaper was.

Miss Turner pushed me down onto my back, then swiftly strapped my hands to the rails above my head.

“Now, before I change your diaper, I need you to answer me honestly,” she said, grabbing a clipboard from under the changing table. “Did you make anymore naughty stickies in your diaper since I changed you into it? Anymore stiff peepee sticky squirts?”

“What?” I gasped in shock. “Of course not!”

She stared at me skeptically for a moment, than nodded. “Okay,” she said, marking my response down on the clipboard. “And now, I also need to do a final assessment of just how wet your diaper is for your potty-chart,” she added, equipping a pair of latex gloves.

She started by gently placing her glove-covered hand on the crotch of my soggy diaper and lightly squeezing. It seemed pointless an unnecessary to me for her to perform any sort of additional ‘assessment’ about the state of my diaper, given that it had already started leaking. But I hardly had a choice in the matter, of course.

Her gentle touch quickly turned to forceful kneading and patting against my soggy, crinkly diaper. Soon, she was aggressively squeezing, rubbing, and sticking her fingers beneath every portion of my pee-soaked disposable.

“Oh gosh, such a wet baby,” she giggled as she continued rhythmically squeezing and pinching my squishy diaper from my crotch, to my waist, to my soggy butt. “Such a naughty, leaky, stinky, wet, peepee baby.”

Suddenly, to my tremendous embarrassment, I realized I was getting rock hard again in my soggy diaper. Humiliating feelings of involuntary horniness began surging through me, as I helplessly suffered her aggressive, intrusive, massaging hand, squishing and kneading the lukewarm, soggy diaper into and around my tiny shaft and balls.

“Messy boy! Such a stinky, wet, peepee, messy boy,” she cooed under her breath, kneading and smushing my diaper against my groin even harder.

I was suddenly panting. My face started to flush. I felt like she was practically giving me a hand-job through my soggy, stinky diaper!

I was appalled and baffled. She had to be doing this on purpose! I thought to myself. There was no way she didn’t know the effect she was having on my little boy parts, just beneath my yellow-stained diaper!

But I was totally helpless to resist! All I could do was roll my eyes to the back of my head and shamefully writhe on my changing table, unconsciously thrusting against the rhythm of her devious, massaging hand.

The only reason I could imagine for her to be subjecting me to this secret humiliation torture, was that it was an act of clandestine, sadistic punishment. Perhaps meted out against me as private revenge for just how pathetic and infantile she thought I really was.

But I knew I couldn’t dream of actually accusing her of such a thing. I knew I didn’t dare even mention what was happening to my boy parts beneath my diaper, lest my punishment suddenly become exponentially worse!

My hands strapped above my head, my soggy diaper wrapped tight around my waist, the sight and smells of the dingy daycare diaper changing room around me...

I felt so totally trapped!

So humiliated and ashamed!

So filthy and naughty and stinky and disgusting and babyish…

And so fucking good! So fucking horny and intoxicated and desperate for more!Her sadistic manual manipulation had me suddenly trapped in a state of involuntary sexual ecstasy!

My cock throbbed harder and harder! I was quickly soaring toward the heights of orgasmic bliss! I was getting closer and closer and closer and then…

She suddenly yanked her hand away.

“Yep, confirmed. That is one very wet diaper,” Miss Turner giggled, marking the observation down on the clipboard as if there was nothing remotely out of the ordinary going on.

I gasped, my body jolted by the sudden halt of sexual stimulation.

I suddenly wanted to scream out loud for her to please keep going! To please keep squeezing my throbbing little stiffy beneath the confines of my soggy diaper!

But I didn’t, of course. My senses fortunately returned enough to keep me from doing something so obviously insane.

After all, I had been punished severely enough just for accidentally ejaculating in my diaper earlier that day. I couldn’t imagine what punishment I might incur if I openly asked my daycare teacher to make me cum in my soggy diapers!

Heaving for breath and now covered with sweat, I quickly succumbed to a fresh swirl of disgust and self-loathing.

I looked down at my soaking wet diaper and realized just how filthy and shameful I was for even thinking of wanting such a thing. An orgasm in my soggy, pee-soaked, stinky diapers…

I was now even doubting that Miss Turner had been giving me sexual stimulation on purpose at all. Perhaps the only thing actually out of the ordinary in the situation… was my humiliating, pathetic horniness during my diaper change.

As I continued heaving and trying to catch my breath, I was suddenly more thankful than I’d ever been in my life, that I didn’t actually disgrace myself by actually orgasming in my diaper on the changing table, yet again.

* * *

“Alright, dear,” Miss Turner said, putting the clipboard back down that apparently had my ‘potty-chart’ on it. “Miss Flower told me that you managed to be extra good for her for most of while I was gone. So as a very special reward, before I change your diaper, I’m going to go ahead and pull that uncomfortable little obedience plug out of you after all, okay?”

My eyes widened with hope. It was the only good news I had heard all day, quickly distracting me from my spiraling shame about what had almost just taken place.

“Just remember, the ouchie-bum-bum plug can always go right back in, if at anytime you decide to act up again,” Miss Turner added. “Now come on, let’s go ahead and roll you over on your belly.”

She unfastened my hands from the changing table, helped me roll over on to my tummy, and re-fastened my hands above my head, securing me face-down on the crinkly changing pad.

As I finished rolling over… my eyes widened in horror.

As my weight settled upon my mushy, diapered crotch pressed against the changing table, I realized… my tiny cock was still rock hard from Miss Turner’s border-line hand-job just moments ago.

And the stimulation of my tiny shaft pressed down into the confines of my soggy diaper… felt incredible.

I was suddenly just as horny as I was before. I felt a desperate urge to suddenly start humping the table in uncontrollable, animalistic horniness. But I managed to restrain myself. Just barely.

“In case you’re wondering,” Miss Turner said, seemingly taking no notice of my sudden extreme horniness, “The reason we keep your dirty diaper on while I take your little bum-bum plug out, is because little babies who aren’t potty-trained yet sometimes do a big poopy in their diapee the second their pluggy is removed. What do you think, baby Lucas? Do you have to make a poopy? Are you gonna go poopy in your diapee when teacher takes your pluggy out?”

My eyes widened. I blushed bright red, momentarily distracted from my horniness. Peeing in my diaper was outrageously humiliating enough. There was no way I was ever going to let myself poop in it.

“No! Of course not!” I blurted through my thick pacifier, accidentally causing a thick gob of drool to run down my chin.

Miss Turner giggled. “Alrighty, baby boy. We’ll see.”

Miss Turner unfastened a couple of the tapes of my sodden diaper, then slid my diaper down enough to expose my bottom. I then felt her gloved fingers wrap around the base of my butt plug and start gently tugging and pulling.

My attention immediately returned to my boner. It suddenly felt like it was eight time stiffer, throbbing harder than ever into the confines of my soggy diaper.

Miss Turner began lightly tugging and pushing on the massive plug in my hole a little more, gently twisting and rocking it back and forth inside of me.

My tiny cock surged from the flood of sensation in my ass. It was now practically thumping against the hot, mushy wetness of my diaper.

“Ooh, your naughty little bum-bum has quite the hold on your little pluggy, doesn’t it?” Miss Turner giggled, adjusting her grip. “No worries, I’ll just try a little harder.”

She began pushing and pulling with even more force. I succumbed to waves of physical sensation unlike anything I’d ever experienced before in my life. It felt like my body was attempting to have an involuntary bowel movement… and one of indescribable pleasure.

It was a sensation that was as humiliating as it was shocking, as overwhelming as it was pleasurable, as indescribably babyish as it was indescribably adult, all at the same time, all adding to my overpowering sense of helplessness and humiliation on the changing table.

My overpowering horniness once again took over. Once again, I was unconsciously thrusting my cock into my soggy diaper. Sweating and whimpering. Helplessly taken by the heat of filthy, helpless, involuntary sexual ecstasy.

I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs. Screams begging her to stop… or screams begging her to keep going.

My hole was getting stretched wider and wider…

My cock getting harder and harder…

My aching balls closer and closer…

Just as they were about to finally explode…

Miss Turner let go.

I gasped and collapsed forward onto the table, the butt plug retreating right back into the depths of my hole.

“Oops, silly me,” she giggled. “I forgot to deflate your little bum-bum plug before trying to pull it out. I forgot how naughty you were earlier, which is why I needed to inflate your rubber pluggy so wide. No wonder your tiny little rosebud couldn’t stretch out enough yet to let it go.”

Miss Turner reached down and released some small, hidden valve in the base of the butt plug. I groaned loudly with relief as I felt the massive, sinister, rubber invader finally slowly deflating inside my utterly stuffed rectum.

I gasped and heaved, trying to catch my breath. I hoped this meant the worst was over. I didn’t know how much more involuntary ’stimulation’ I could take…

But unfortunately for me, that’s just when the real torture began.

Because even when deflated, the butt plug was still massive for my tiny hole. And Miss Turner now began twisting and yanking it back and forth inside of me with reckless abandon.

She was rhythmically shoving and pulling, sliding it slightly out, then all the way back in, then slightly out, then up and down and all around… She was practically reverse-fucking my hole! My tiny anus was getting stretched and violated more and more and more!

I began helplessly, involuntarily humping my soggy diaper, practically fucking my sodden disposable with my tiny hard shaft on the changing table, squealing as she fucked my virgin rosebud harder and harder with the hulking rubber invader.

My face flushed and dripped with sweat. Every muscle in my body was twisted and clenched. My groans were animalistic and helpless. I began writhing and screeching, seismic waves of involuntary sexual ecstasy shaking me to my core.

This time I knew it was coming. The unbearable pleasure was finally too much. I could feel the butt plug moving further and further toward my bottom’s exit…

Her other hand suddenly on my crotch, squeezing my balls through my pee-soaked diaper…

And with one final yank…

Phlump!

The plug finally popped out.

I screamed at the top of my lungs. “Mommmmmy!!!!”

One of the thickest, stickiest loads of my entire life exploded into the front of my pee-soaked diaper.

My tiny cock sprayed and sprayed as I writhed and convulsed. I squealed and ejaculated my hot sticky load on the changing table for what felt like minutes, helplessly thrusting and writhing to finish spraying out as much of my sticky shame as possible into my already shameful mess.

For several seconds, I was lost in indescribable, orgasmic ecstasy. It felt like I had just taken the biggest poop of my life, while climaxing the hardest I’d ever climaxed. It was a swirl of shameful pleasure unlike anything I had ever experienced before.

And yet, just as quickly as it had come on…

My pleasure evaporated.

I slowly opened my eyes back up. Once again, I saw that I was sitting in the daycare diaper changing room, on the changing table, wearing a soggy diaper, my butt hole gaping from the just-removed ‘obedience’ plug.

And I suddenly remembered what, exactly, I had just screamed.

Mommy.

I was mortified. I had screamed for my Mommy. I had screamed for my Mommy, while blowing the biggest load of my life into my soggy, stinky diaper, while my daycare teacher stretched my tiny butt hole out.

I knew I had just reached a new, shockingly pathetic, babyish, filthy, shameful low.

And I was sure, judging by the look on Miss Turner’s face now staring down at me, I was soon going to pay a hefty price for my shameful, humiliating, infantile crime.