Little Ducklings Daycare - Part 2

From the outside, Little Ducklings looked like a normal daycare. Its name was written across the front of the building in bold, brightly coloured letters, and a smiling cartoon duckling sat beside it, clutching a baby bottle in its wings and wearing a nappy on its bottom.

But Casey pressed the buzzer beside the entrance with a sense of unease. She couldn’t get the image of Ella out of her head, a woman who had been intelligent and independent only a month ago sticking her bottom out and pooping her pants right in front of them. A woman who’d swapped business suits for dirty diapers. For a moment, Casey fought the urge to turn and run and abandon her investigation, but then the intercom crackled into life, and a deep male voice spoke from it. “Welcome to Little Ducklings. How can we help you?”

“Hi,” said Casey, and she was relieved to find that her voice sounded both relaxed and professional, “I’m from social services. It’s nothing to worry about, but I’m here to perform a random inspection. Just to make sure everything is up to scratch, you understand.”

There was a moment’s pause. “Of course,” said the man’s voice. “I’m the administrator here. I’ll just come and let you in.”

A few seconds later, and the man appeared behind the glass front doors to the daycare. He smiled at her and pressed a button on the inside. The doors opened.

“Thank you,” said Casey. She held out her ID and said, “Do you think we could go to your office? I’d like to start by asking a couple of questions if that’s okay.”

“Certainly!” said the man brightly, barely glancing at her ID before ushering her inside. He was perhaps in his mid-thirties, Casey noticed, and quite handsome. “If you’d just like to follow me.”

He led her over to a side door and through into an office room. His desk stood in the middle, covered in papers, and behind it several cabinets lined the walls. Casey’s eyes travelled over the documents on the desk, scanning for anything unusual.

“Please, take a seat,” said the man, pulling up a chair in front of his desk and circling around to sit down himself. “I’ll be happy to answer any questions you might have.”

“That would be lovely,” said Casey, then she adopted an apologetic tone and said, “but before we get started, would it be an awful imposition if I asked for some coffee? I had to skip my usual cup this morning and I’m not the same without it.”

“Of course!” the man said, jumping back up from his seat. “I’ll just go and get you one.” He left the room, and at once Casey got to her feet and started sifting through the papers on the desk. She barely noticed the soft nursery music that began to play.

Casey looked through forms and spreadsheets, a frown growing on her face. There was nothing suspicious at all! Her bottom lip stuck out in a pout, and she turned and opened the draw to one of the filing cabinets. Maybe there’d be something in there. But after a minute or so of frantic searching, Casey huffed and stomped her foot in frustration. Nothing but stupid forms! The nursery music tinkled in her ears, louder now, and she scrunched up her face. Why were they playing stupid baby songs in the office? That was dumb. That was silly. Casey shook her head from side to side, like a cow trying to shake off flies. The music was ringing inside her head. What was she doing here again?

The door to the office opened, and the man stepped inside. At once, the music shut off and Casey looked up at him blankly. “Hi, sweetie,” he said pleasantly. “I’m afraid there’s no coffee for you, but I’ve got something I think you’ll like just as much.” He held up a large baby bottle.

Casey stared at the full bottle with her mouth slightly open. Was that right? Was that okay? Even though the music had stopped, for some reason she imagined that she could still hear it going on in her head. Her stomach rumbled a little as she looked at the bottle, and she realised she was hungry. She hadn’t had lunch that day because she’d been in such a hurry. Why had she been in a hurry again? She’d come here from somewhere, hadn’t she? Come to do something important.

“Ready for num-nums?” the man asked, tilting his head.

Casey blinked and nodded. The man beckoned her over, and Casey found herself being pulled into his lap. There was another moment of concern, when she settled her bottom on his thighs, that something she was doing wasn’t right, but the feeling quickly vanished once the nipple of the bottle was pressed between her lips. Casey began to suck.

“That’s a good girl,” the man cooed, as warm baby formula flowed down Casey’s throat and into her tummy. “That’s a good baby. Drink your baba.”

Casey pulled her mouth off the bottle. “Nodda baby,” she said, scowling.

“Shhh!” the man said, looking around the empty room conspiratorially. “You don’t want to blow your cover, do you? Remember you’re here to investigate.”

Casey nodded slowly. That was right. She was here to investigate. She had to stay undercover. The man slid the bottle back between her lips, and she started drinking again. All thoughts drifted out of her mind, everything except how yummy her milkies were, and how comfy she was in the man’s lap.

“Finish your baba, sweetie,” he said a few minutes later, “then we’ll get you into some more appropriate clothes, okay? We don't want anyone in the nursery room to suspect, do we?”

Casey shook her head, still suckling rhythmically on the baby bottle.

“Good girl. Remember, you’re not Casey the journalist right now. You’re Casey the big baby.”

There was a hiss of air as Casey finished the last of the formula, and the lovely man helped her off his lap. Her tummy felt very full, and her head was even foggier. But she knew he was right. She was trying to infiltrate a daycare, so of course she had to pretend to be a baby. That made sense. She stood still patiently while the man opened up one of the cabinets and took out a t-shirt and a white square of plastic. But when he unfolded it, Casey felt a chill run down her spine.

“Don’t wanna wear dat,” she whined, staring at the enormous disposable nappy. An image flashed in her mind of a grown woman wearing a diaper just like it, screwing up her face and messing herself without any shame at all. “Not… I’m not wike her. I’m a adult.”

“Of course you are, sweetie,” the man said soothingly, placing the nappy and shirt down on his desk and getting to work stripping off Casey’s clothes. “But you don’t want the daycare workers to know that, do you? Have you forgotten you’re undercover? Hmm… Maybe you’re too silly to be a journalist. Maybe you ought to just be a baby instead.”

Casey shook her head violently as the man slipped her button-up shirt off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. “I’m a jouwnalist!” she pouted, stomping her foot. “I undercover!”

“That’s right,” the man cooed. “Clever girl!”

Casey grinned. Her bra went next, falling to the floor to join her shirt. She looked down at her bare chest with a frown. Her boobies were out. Was that okay? Another image flashed in her mind, of a woman bouncing up and down on her bottom with her large breasts jiggling madly. Casey hopped a little on the spot, and her own boobies wobbled about. She giggled.

“Hold still a moment, honey,” said the man gently. He was sliding her trousers down her legs. Her underwear quickly followed them, so that Casey was left standing naked in front of him. “There we go. Now it’s time to get your nappy on! Legs apart, baby.”

Casey spread her legs obediently, and the man positioned the huge diaper between her thighs, holding it in place with one hand while he did up the tapes expertly with the other. “All done!” he said happily, reaching around to pat her padded bottom. “Isn’t that better? No more toilets for you, sweetie!”

Casey frowned at that. No more toilets? That didn’t sound right. That didn’t sound right at all. She shook her head slowly, trying to shake out the silly, tinkling music that was still playing distantly inside her head. She took a step backwards, and her nappy crinkled loudly. She could feel the bulky padding pushing her thighs apart, forcing her to stand bow-legged. This definitely wasn’t right. She looked down at the puffy diaper between her legs, and something clicked into place in her mind.

Oh God, she thought. Oh God, oh God, oh God. She looked up at the man with terror in her eyes.

He smiled pleasantly at her. “Is big girl Casey having a little wakey-wakey?” he asked in mocking baby-talk.

“You… you dwugged… drugged me,” Casey said in a hushed tone, glancing at the empty bottle standing on the desk.

“No sweetie, there was nothing in your baba but lovely warm formula.” The man tapped her on the forehead. “But there is some special music in your head.” He chuckled at the look of horror on her face. “It doesn’t take much,” he explained. “Just some sweet, lovely songs, and you silly girls are happy to strip off your suits and put your Pampers on.”

Casey was breathing fast, and her eyes darted towards the door.

“There’s no point trying to toddle away, silly girl,” said the man. He grinned. “I’ll catch you. We can’t have you running off, can we? You need to learn your place, sweetie. You need to learn that women are just babies.”

Casey looked at him in a rage, but he’d already taken a smartphone out of his pocket and held the screen up to her face. At once, she was bombarded by bright, swirling colours, a beautiful lightshow that pulsed and shone in time to the sweet, silly music in her head, the music that had risen up from the back of her mind to fill her every thought.

She felt her bladder let go, and a wonderful warmth spread across her crotch as she drenched her diaper with pee-pee. No more toilets, she thought, and she giggled. No more toilets for her.

“Your Daddy’s already on his way to pick you up,” said the man. He looked down at Casey’s nappy as the front darkened and it began to sag lower and lower, then his gaze drifted upwards, lingering on her bare breasts before coming to rest on her vacant, happy-looking face. He smirked. “Wasn’t that nice of him to ring us up and say he thought you might be coming? We’re always on the lookout for nosey parker reporters, you know. But now you have a lovely home to go to, with a sweet sister and a caring Daddy to look after you. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again, though. You’re going to have such a wonderful time at Little Ducklings!”