Baby Fever - Part 2

“I don’t need to go to a stupid daycare!” Naomi insisted, as her boyfriend dragged her up to the front of a squat, one-story building. A large sign outside read 'HappyDays Daycare for Baby Fever Girls'. “You can just leave me at home! Nobody will find out! Please!”

“I told you, sweetie, I’m not going to take that risk,” Isaac said shortly, pulling her along. “My paternity leave will run out soon and I’ll have to start going back to work, and I am not leaving you unsupervised. This is where you’ll be playing during the day from now on.”

“But-”

“That’s enough, Naomi,” Isaac cut across her. “Honestly, you might insist that you haven’t experienced any mental regression, but if you ask me you’ve been acting like a fussy little four-year-old today!”

They entered the building, Isaac tugging her along, and were met at once by a smiling, middle-aged lady in a plain white blouse and jeans, standing in front of the reception desk.

“You must be Isaac,” she said politely, shaking his hand. “And you,” she said, turning to Naomi and grinning, “must be little Naomi! Hi, sweetie! You can call me Miss Brenda!”

Naomi scowled. This was exactly what she’d been afraid of. A bunch of dumb daycare staff, lucky enough to be immune from the virus, cooing over her like she was an actual toddler. “I’m a grown woman,” she said firmly. “I might have the virus, but I don’t appreciate being talked down to like a child. For you information, I haven’t undergone any mental regression whatsoever, and-”

“Naomi’s a little embarrassed about her condition,” Isaac explained, cutting in apologetically. “She hasn’t experienced much mental regression and she’s a bit grumpy about the idea of going back to daycare.”

“Not to worry,” said Miss Brenda, her eyes crinkled with amusement, “we’ve got plenty of experience dealing with fussy girls who want to pretend they’re still grown-ups. We’ll keep her in line. Is it alright if we spank her?”

“Yes, that’s fine,” Isaac said casually. “I imagine it will be necessary. Naomi can be quite naughty sometimes.”

“What?!” Naomi squealed, looking from Miss Brenda to her boyfriend in shock. They both ignored her.

“That’s good,” said Miss Brenda. “We find that a red bottom is by far the easiest way to teach a misbehaving young lady her place. We have other methods, of course, but a spanking is usually the quickest. I see she’s wearing pull-ups. Can she use a potty?”

“She still uses the toilet at home most of the time, but she wets the bed every night, so I’m sure she’d pee during any naps, and she does have accidents in her special undies on occasion.”

“I see,” said Miss Brenda. “We have a one-strike policy when it comes to accidents at HappyDays. We’ll start Naomi off in the big girl’s class, I think, since she’s so insistent on being treated like a grown-up, but we’ll move her down to the baby class if she proves she can’t make it to her training potty on time.”

“That sounds excellent,” Isaac said happily. “I can see she’s in good hands.”

“Hold on a second!” Naomi whined. Her face was burning. She was uncomfortably aware that her just-in-case pants were still a bit wet from earlier, and she didn’t like the sound of this one-strike policy at all. “You can’t just talk about me like I’m not here! It’s not fair! It-”

“Hush, baby!” Isaac scolded. “The grown-ups are talking.” Naomi spluttered indignantly, but once again, she was ignored. Isaac turned back to Miss Brenda. “I’d better be off,” he said. He slipped an arm around his girlfriend’s waist and pulled her close to him, planting a big kiss on the top of her head. “Be good for Miss Brenda,” he told her. “Daddy will come and pick you up at the end of the day, okay?” With an extra kiss on her cheek and a firm pat on her padded rear, he turned and left the building.

Naomi stared after him in shock, feeling a strange ache in her chest at the sight of him walking away, leaving her here with this strange woman. But she was distracted a moment later, when Miss Brenda shoved her hand down the back of her tights and groped her bum through her padded pants.

“What are you doing!?” Naomi squealed, spinning around to face the woman.

“Just checking your pull-ups, princess,” said Miss Brenda sweetly, and before Naomi could react, she’d thrust her hand down the front of her tights this time, slipping a finger invasively into her training pants. Naomi froze.

“Oh dear, Naomi…” said Miss Brenda, sounding disappointed. “An accident already? You heard what I said about our one-strike policy, didn’t you?”

“N-no!” Naomi spluttered. “This doesn’t count! That was earlier today, before we even arrived!”

Miss Brenda sighed and shook her head. “Looks like it’s the baby class for you, little one.”

“No!”

“Yes, little missy,” the woman said, taking her by the hand. “Come along now. Let’s swap those yucky wet pull-ups for a nice, clean nappy, okay?”

“It was just an accident!” Naomi said, feeling utterly ridiculous. “I don’t need nappies! Please, I don’t need the baby class! I’ve still got my adult mind! I should at least be with other people who aren’t fully regressed!”

“Our class divisions are made on the basis of potty training level, not mental age,” said Miss Brenda, leading her deeper inside the building. “Not all of our staff sign up to change a grown woman’s messy nappies, so that’s the way we split the groups.”

Naomi screwed up her face in disgust. “I don’t do that in my pants!” she cried, revolted.

Miss Brenda said nothing. She took her through a set of large double doors and into the room beyond. It smelled of peanut butter sandwiches, baby powder, and pee. Naomi gaped at the sight of a dozen fully grown women, ranging everywhere from their early twenties to their mid-forties, all dressed up like babies and toddler, either waddling about clutching dolls, or crawling around on the floor playing with blocks and shaking rattles, pacifiers bobbing between their lips. Although their outfits all varied, there was one thing they had in common – each and every one of them was wearing a thick disposable diaper. They peeked out from under skirts, or stuck out above waistbands. Some were bulging beneath onesies and overalls, but there was no mistaking what any of them wore in place of panties.

Miss Brenda gave her bum a swat. “Don’t dawdle, sweetie. Let’s get you up on the table! I know a cute little botty that needs a nappy on!”

Naomi felt too dazed to resist as she was helped up onto the adult-sized changing table that stood in the middle of the room. Her anger and indignation were gradually giving way to a mounting horror at her situation. She’d be coming here every weekday for who knew how long. What if they never found a cure? What if they never relaxed the restrictions they’d placed on virus victims? What if she’d be stuck being treated like a stupid toddler forever?

Miss Brenda tugged down her tights, taking her pull-ups with them. She examined the slightly soggy inside and tutted. Then she got to work sprinkling baby powder on her privates and rubbing it in. “We don’t want you getting a rash, do we baby?” she cooed, making Naomi cover her face in shame. “No we don’t!” She dusted powder over Naomi’s bottom next, patting it firmly into her wobbling bum cheeks. “No nappy rash for the happy girls at HappyDays daycare!”

Just as the woman was slipping a bulky, crinkly disposable nappy under her bum, Naomi felt the sudden need to pee. The urge arose without warning. A few seconds ago she’d had no idea she needed to go, and now she was totally desperate for the toilet. She tensed on the changing table. Even if Miss Brenda let her, she knew there was no way she could make it to the bathroom in time.

“Um… Miss Brenda…” she said feebly, taking her hands away from her face, intending to warn the woman. But it was too late. She lost control of her bladder, and, in the middle of her diaper change, an arc of pee-pee streamed from her pussy.

“Oopsie!” Miss Brenda sang, expertly pulling up the front of Naomi’s nappy in time to catch the sudden jet of pee before it could hit her blouse. “Uh-oh!” she chuckled. “Looks like I’ll have to warn the rest of the staff that you’re a nappy change tinkler, Naomi!”

Naomi thought she might faint with embarrassment. Her new diaper wasn’t even taped on yet, but she could feel it warming around her crotch as she pissed into the padding helplessly. Miss Brenda tittered and pressed it down firmly against Naomi’s crotch so she could resume taping it on.

“Ewww!” Naomi squealed as the wet padding was pressed against her skin. “Gross! Can’t I get a… you know… another one?”

“No, sweetie,” said Miss Brenda, taping Naomi’s diaper shut. “We have a rule here at HappyDays to help save on nappies.” She patted Naomi’s padded crotch, smiling. “None of our girls get a change until they’re soaked to the brim, or until they’ve done a nice big poo-poo in their pants!”

***

Sorry about the delay with this one. It's been a busy week. The rest of this story is coming soon.