Published: November 16th 2021, 10:08:48 am
Continuation of "License to Pee"
"No, not again," I whimper as the back of my seat fills with mush. Ever since Daddy got his fist up in me, I haven't been the same down there. Not that it matters, since I'm diapered 24/7 and expected to use them.
"Uh oh, what's wrong, sweetie?" asks Daddy. He's all dressed up to go out - sunglasses. Leather cap. Black tank top, and tattoos that are too dirty to describe running from wrist to shoulder. No matter how many times this happens, I am too embarrassed to tell him. It doesn't matter that he's the one keeping me in diapers. It doesn't matter that he's changed my diapers daily for over a month. Daddy sniffs the air and I don't have to tell him.
"Aww, did little Dicky Jr. make poopies?" I hate that name. My real name is Mark, but I guess that's gone along with my hope of ever using a potty again. I can bow my head in shame, whimpering as the big man gets me to my feet. I'm in boots and shorts today, which are left open at the top to show off the top of my diaper. My too-small tanktop does nothing to hide these damn things either.
"W-wait, Daddy... what are you doing?" I look up at him in shock as he tugs me by the hand toward the front door.
"I don't have time to change you now, honey bun. You'll have to go to Daycare messy. They'll take care of you there."
"N-no, Daddy Ple-" My mouth is cut off by a pacifier, and with the warning look he gives me, I know better than to argue. Last time I did, he slung me over his shoulder and smacked my thighs until they were red. And I was still carried out the door anyway. I just follow him out of the building, down to his car. I want to ask for the motorcycle but he says it's not safe for babies. So I'm forced to sit in my baby seat, which just spreads the icky mush further on my butt.
"Don't worry, kiddo, we'll have you off to daycare in no time. We'd better," He says, checking his watch, "I have to be at the boot shop to open up." I give him a questioning look, but then I remember why he's in such a hurry to open. Inter Regional Leather (IRL) is this weekend and Daddy wants his shop open for business for all the boot traffic that will surely come through.
"Aww, don't pout... Next year we'll get that booth for sure, then you can spend the day with Daddy, meeting all his leather friends, okay?"
I'm not pouting because of that. I'm pouting because i'm stuck here in a smelly baby seat. I try to give my extra mad face, but Daddy is already in the front seat starting up the car. He really means business, and he tears off the street. We get to the daycare in no time at all.
"Okay, sweetie. Nice and easy. Up we go," he says as he helps me out of the seat. I'm led waddling through the daycare doors. It was so humiliating the first time I came here, and I still get butterflies in my stomach whenever I'm brought back. They know how to treat big babies like me. I'm sure if you know anything about these adult baby daycares that have been popping up, you can guess where I'm at by now... It's...
[Which nursery will it be? Vote in the CYOA to decide!]