Published: December 16th 2022, 1:00:02 pm
Vickie groaned, wanting to protest, yet again, that she didn't want to eat anything, but she could see that wasn't going to do her any good. She was already in the high chair, the threat of being fed hanging heavy in the air. She was going to be eating, whether she wanted to or not... She might as well maintain some control over it.
"Come on," she sniffled, staring upwards, though, of course, there were no eyes to look into, to make her own eyes big and pitiful for. "Can't I at least get a spoon?"
"Vickie," the room's voice told her, "you know you're not ready for that."
"Yes, I am!" Vickie kicked her feet in frustration. That must have been some setting the babysitters had messed with, along with telling this place her favorite outfit, and favorite snack. She could only imagine how they'd giggled to one another, imagining the combination of saying she loved oatmeal, but denying her any utensil to eat it with.
She rolled her eyes, knowing that, no matter how long she waited, she wasn't going to change the mind of a machine, and that delaying would probably just, eventually, prompt the room's hands to take over. "Fine," she hissed. "I'll eat it."
Feeling ridiculous, and babyish - especially considering what she was wearing, how massive her diaper was - she slid her hands into the mush, stifling a gag at the texture of it as she scooped some out, raising it up to her lips. She blushed as she saw some of it dripping out between her fingers, landing on the bib she'd be so certain she wouldn't need, instantly making her appear all the more infantile, like a toddler not quite ready to feed herself after all.
She opened her mouth resignedly, wrapping her mouth around her hand and scraping as much of the mush off as she could, frowning when it touched her tongue. It didn't taste quite right, but it took a moment for her to decipher why, since it was so unusual. Instantly, she grabbed for her milk, not caring that she smeared the bottle with oatmeal, and pulled it to her mouth, sucking away greedily.
"See?" the voice asked. "You love it!"
"No, I don't!" Vickie pouted as she popped the nipple out of her mouth. "It's awful!"
"Don't be silly," it replied. "It's your favorite."
She couldn't be mad at it, not really; this was, like so much else, Sawyer and Taylor's fault. It was a mean trick for them to not only make her eat oatmeal, but for them to tell the nursery to fill it with both prunes, and some sort of spice, making it hot even when the food itself was not quite lukewarm, a safe temperature for her to eat with her hands.
She squirmed in her seat, tummy already rumbling at the combination. Unless she found some way out of here very quickly, there was no way she was going to avoid filling her diaper here. It was, she supposed, a good thing she hadn't ended up here earlier in the summer, when the girls were still acting like they wanted to help her stay out of diapers... One afternoon here, and she'd prove that she wasn't ready for anything less thick than these ones she was currently in, as absurdly gigantic as they were.
"There, I'm done," she whined. "Thank you for the snack."
"No, you are not, young lady," the room told her. "You are going to eat every last bit of your snack!"
"I can't!" she smacked her hand against the high chair's tray, sending bits of oatmeal flying up, splashing against her bib. "I can't eat any more! I'm full!"
A spoon finally did appear, an arm reaching down from above with it, and just when Vickie was doing her best to hold her tongue about it, to even muster another, "Thank you," despite how frustrated she was to not get it until after she'd already started to ear with her hands, it dipped into the oatmeal itself, coming out with a huge, heaping helping.
She gulped, feeling another trickle of wetness coming from her, though she still was barely able to notice the effects, given how much padding she was wearing. She'd blown her chance... She was going to be fed now, like a fussy little girl, which meant she'd given up any and all control over how much she ate, if she'd had any to begin with.
She shook her head, keeping her mouth clamped shut, but, of course, that didn't last long. Another hand appeared from somewhere behind her, fingers pinching down on her nose. Defiantly, she fought on, glowering straight forward, since there was nobody here for her to direct her ire at; deep down, she knew it wasn't going to do any good. It made her look more childish even trying it, though, at this point, she didn't think there was any further she could really sink, and she'd run out of other options.
Soon, she was running out of air, too, and had no choice in the matter, her body overruling her, making her gasp for air, mouth popping open, giving the hands the perfect opportunity to slide the spoon inside. She whimpered, defeated, keeping her mouth open for a moment or two, before slowly closing it, chewing, and swallowing it down. Thankfully, the bottle was ready and waiting, even if the hands kept it there longer than she would have liked, tilted up just enough for the milk to continue flowing into her already overfull bladder, which she felt begin dribbling again to make room.
Maybe it was a good thing her diaper was so bulky, she thought idly. If they kept this up, she was going to be constantly wetting her pants, more and more trickling out at an almost steady pace... Like a real baby did, before they were potty trained at all. She blushed, glancing down at herself, at the shirt currently hidden by her bib, though she could see the sides of the first B and the final Y peeking out, declaring her exactly that.
"Open wide for the airplane!" the voice exclaimed, the arm taking the next spoonful of oatmeal, already loaded and waiting, on a tiny, invisible roller coaster, moving it up and down and curving around before it ended right in front of Vickie's mouth, ready to dispatch its passengers. As much as Vickie didn't want any more of anything at the moment, and certainly not that, she reluctantly opened up, seeing the writing on the wall. She couldn't avoid this, so she might as well get it over with as soon as possible.
She felt ready to pop long before the bowl was anywhere close to empty, but the few meek, "I'm full now,"s she managed to get out between bites went just as well as the earlier ones had, and ended with the same results. There was never any way she was going to get out of this high chair without finishing every bit of her oatmeal... Or, at least, that's what she told herself to feel better about her utter failure to avoid any of it, other than the bit she'd dripped onto her bib.
"Good girl," the voice told her, when it finally scooped out the last of the 'snack', which Vickie thought was more than big enough to qualify as a whole meal. Another hand patted her on the head as she wearily gulped it up, draining the last of the bottle as well, diaper growing soggier as she felt the high chair begin to sink into the floor, lowering her down onto it with a slight squish. She wasn't there for long, however, before she saw something else rising out of the floor all around her, something that she might have assumed were prison bars, if she was anywhere else.
"Now, then," the voice continued, "I think it's time for your nap."
She pouted, but it was hard to put up much of a fight, even before the pacifier was pushed back into her mouth. She'd been feeling tired before her snack, and now that she'd been stuffed full, that had only gotten more intense. The bars rose high above her head before the floor right beneath her started to lift, too, confirming that she was, indeed, being put into a crib.
Once the whole thing had emerged around her, the lights dimmed, leaving just a small bit shining faintly at one end of the room as a nightlight. She sighed, crawling across the crib, staring down at the floor beneath her, then up at the top of the bars above her. Maybe, in a thinner diaper, she could have climbed out... Maybe. There was no guarantee of that, and, even if she did, it would be a long fall on the other side, jumping down from on top of them.
And what would she do then? She could get out of the crib... How did she think she was going to escape the room? She didn't see any exits, or any buttons or switches that would trigger one. The room itself was no doubt watching, too, constantly, and wouldn't just sit by and let her experiment too much before it did something.
Not to mention, of course, the fact that the whole thing hinged on her being in a smaller diaper, something that wasn't likely to happen here. She almost didn't want it to; she thought she would be tall enough to scale the bars of the crib then, but she didn't know that for sure. If she had the ability to stand up, she might wind up, instead, realizing she was still too short, too tiny, to get away, and that would be another blow to her ego, right when she wasn't sure she could take any more.
Weirdly, it was better this way, having no choice other than to curl up in her crib, sucking at her pacifier. She knew she was stuck, so there was no pressure to do anything about it, no getting angry at herself when she couldn't pull it off. And she really was so sleepy, after her big day, and all the eating and drinking she'd done.
She had nearly drifted off when she felt the pain in her tummy, her eyes shooting open in recognition. Her paci nursing grew more intense as she attempted, in vain, to push her legs together, and then to press her hand to her backside, neither of which did any good at all, given her huge diaper. "No, not now!" she begged, and, in response, her body let go, her pants filling with a soft, mushy mass she could do nothing to stop.
It felt like it went on forever, oozing and spreading and squelching, but, even when it finished, and she reached behind herself to give her seat an experimental poke, she could barely tell she'd done anything... From the outside. Inside the diaper, obviously, was a different story, where it was impossible to avoid the mess squishing all around her anytime she moved. "Ugh, right before my nap, too," she complained, wrinkling her nose.
Then again, it wasn't like she was back home, and her sitters had just left her alone, and she was too scared to bother them. What else did the room have to do, other than its job? "Hey," she called out, pulling the pacifier out of her mouth so that she could be understood. "Can I have a change now?"
An arm slithered out from the bed itself, taking the pacifier from her hand and putting it back where it belonged, Vickie's eyes widening as another hand slid a strap over top of it, pulling it snugly around her face, while a third, unseen one, fastened it behind her. When her own hand reached back, she could find no buckle, no lock, nothing, just what felt like a smooth strip of fabric, soft, yet too strong for her to break. Whatever the room had done to close it, she wasn't going to get it open herself.
"Your sitters will change you when they pick you up," the room reminded her, Vickie whimpering into her paci-gag as it sank in that the rule did, in fact, apply no matter what she did in her diapers, apparently. "Now, hush up and take your nap, Vickie."
Vickie couldn't help but do the former, the pacifier too large for her to get out any decipherable words. And, in the darkness, despite the condition of her diaper, the latter was looking pretty unavoidable as well. She groaned, tossing and turning and feeling her mess shift inside her pants, sulkily sucking on her pacifier, her descent into toddlerhood more clear, and real, than ever.
She was still there in her dreams, sitting there in the middle of the blank room, playing with blocks, in her huge, heavily used diaper. How long had she been stuck there? It was hard to say... She shouldn't have run away from her babysitters... At least if they'd put her here, they'd know where she was, and that they ought to come get her... Now, she felt like she was going to be trapped here forever, constantly being fed spicy oatmeal and milk, filling her diaper more and more, with no hope for a change...
She blinked as she heard a new sound, one she didn't recognize, turning her head slowly, only to see, to her surprise, Graham stepping into the room. Her heart began to beat faster at the sight of him, even as she awkwardly attempted to push the pile of blocks in front of her, to keep him from seeing her diaper, though as big as it was, that seemed an impossible task... And a pointless one, given how she'd already seen his nose wrinkle, knew that he'd smelled it, and knew what she'd done.
"Vickie?" he asked, confused. "What are you doing in here?! I'm supposed to be picking up my sister!"
"Graham?" she squeaked. "You hafta get me out of here!"
Graham looked down at her, his nose twitching again in disgust as he took in the sight. "I... I don't know about that," he hesitated. "It looks like this is where you belong..."
"No, it isn't!" Vickie wailed. "You can't leave me here! You know I'm not a baby!"
"Do I?" he asked harshly, glaring into her eyes in a way that made her squirm. "You're in dirty diapers, again... And don't think I forgot about what else I saw you do in them."
She blushed bright red. She recalled that, too, of course... It was the last time she'd had an orgasm, despite Sawyer teasing her with it earlier that day, bringing her to the brink, then stopping short, not saying those magic words that would allow it to happen... She hated to admit it, but, even with Graham watching, it had felt so, so amazing...
"Pl-Please," she leaned forward, knocking her blocks down as she crawled forward towards him. "I-I can show you I'm a big girl... I-I can do it so much better this time, I promise..."
She reached up to unbuckle his pants, face burning with shame, and excitement. No matter how their last encounter had ended, she was glad to see Graham again, to have another chance to prove herself... This wasn't a task she'd ever particularly wanted to get good at, or cared about her proficiency at, but she couldn't deny that it had been on her mind since that first time.
She was, essentially, doing it to get a diaper change again, perhaps the least adult motivation possible for such a mature task. It was all she could think of, however, all she could do in her present condition... And, to be honest, she wanted to as well, couldn't say that she entirely minded having an excuse.
"I'm such a big girl," she told him, opening her mouth wide, eyes closing as she began to suck.
It wasn't quite the way she remembered, though she couldn't put her finger on why. It was definitely familiar, perhaps even more-so than what she'd done on that beach, and fantasized about ever since. It might have been better, in fact, prompting her to go at it faster and harder, wiggling in place, waiting for something to happen until...
She gasped, eyes popping open as the thing in her mouth exploded, releasing a torrent of... oatmeal. Mushy, spicy oatmeal. She was no longer on her knees, or facing Graham, she was still in her crib, eyes crossing as they tried to take in the sight of something dangling beneath them, attached to the pacifier still strapped around her head. It took her a moment to recognize that it was a hose, hanging down from the ceiling.
Vickie shook her head, but there was nothing she could do to get away from the flow. "Did you have a good nap?" the voice asked her. "It's time for your next snack! I thought this would be easier."
"No!" Vickie burbled into her paci, and the mouthful of oatmeal it had given her. "I'll feed myself!"
The room couldn't hear her, however, or at least couldn't understand her... That, or it didn't believe her, after all the fuss she'd made earlier. Either way, she now had no control whatsoever when it came to the feeding, unable to even attempt to hold her mouth shut, for as much good as that had done her. She was going to eat what the daycare wanted her to eat, what her babysitters had told her she liked, and there was no way around it.
She thought for a moment, at the very least, that it wouldn't be as big of a feeding, when it seemed to stop short. That, it turned out, was just so it could send a wave of milk down the hose instead before starting up again, alternating while she squirmed in her crib in her messy diaper, cheeks warm from the memory of her dream as she sucked away at her pacifier.
Graham wasn't going to just show up, she knew. Jordan and Liz knew she was here, but even if they wanted to let her go, if they decided she'd been through enough - not that there was any way for them to know exactly what they'd done by bringing her here - would the daycare let them check her out? Sawyer and Taylor had made her account here, and she found it very unlikely that they'd allow for anyone else to do that... Certainly not Jordan and Liz, who, as far as she knew, hadn't officially met the younger girls when they'd set everything up.
Would Jordan and Liz try to find Sawyer and Taylor? Would they bother to tell them about her being here? Or would they feel satisfied with what they'd done and head home? Maybe Sawyer or Taylor would get a notification to come pick her up, if they left her here long enough... If they'd put in their actual cell numbers. If they hadn't, and they assumed she'd somehow made a run for it out of the mall... How long was it going to take them to come find her here? How long was she going to be stuck in this diaper? It felt like it could hold plenty more... But, given her last two snacks, she suspected she was going to be pushing the limits anywhere before long.
There was no way this could get any worse, she thought, gulping away as the hose switched back to oatmeal. It couldn't possibly...
The hose detached, after she had more than her fill yet again, a hand appearing to push a plug back into the pacifier to close it back up, like the one she had back at home. She should have recognized that was what this one was, known that, if she got too fussy, the room wouldn't hesitate to use it... Now, it was too late.
"All right," the voice said pleasantly, while the crib lowered into the floor around her. "Are you ready for play-time?" She shrugged. It would be nice to move around some, even if she could only crawl. Perhaps it would help take her mind off of things. "Wonderful!" the voice exclaimed, one of the walls sliding open without warning, revealing a larger room, surrounded on all sides by smaller rooms, like the one she was in. There were lots of toys in the central room, some rocking horses, huge stuffed animals...
And lots of babies, and a few toddlers, though nobody older than that. She was sure there were kids older than that here, so they must have a separate community room like this that they'd been separated into. Obviously, the daycare thought this was where she belonged, what she was on the level of.
She shook her head at the idea of having to spend any time here, playing among these infants like they were her equals. The crib had finished sinking into the floor, leaving her with nothing around her, nothing to hang onto as the room raised up, turning into almost a slide, her diaper gliding easily down the tilted surface, depositing her flat on her mushy bottom right in the middle of play-time, with all the other babies.