Other than the smaller size and brighter colors, the cafeteria at the nursery school was surprisingly normal, though there were quite a few more grown-ups roaming around, making sure there was no choking going on, than you'd find at a regular school. Even the food I saw in front of the kids was childish, sure, but not to the extent that it could have been - chicken nuggets, rice, broccoli, apple slices. While I wouldn't choose that for a meal, I wouldn't say no to it, either.
Unfortunately, that was out of my hands. Rather than taking me to collect my food, as I'd expected her to, Ms. Shelly led me to the table where the rest of the class was sitting, to two open seats near the head. I blushed as the kids looked up at me, sure they could tell the struggle going on inside of me, and what I'd almost just done. Ms. Shelly didn't seem to notice, just set my diaper bag on the table and began to rummage through it.
The first thing she took out was a pink, plastic bib, which I found tied around my neck before I could even try to stop it, or tell her I didn't need it. Nobody else at our table had a bib, of course, a fact I was sure they were all aware of. Then, to make things even worse, she set a baby bottle in front of me. "Drink this while I get your lunch ready," she instructed. I looked over at her, pleadingly, but I could find no mercy in her gaze. The apple juice in the bottle was a bit warm, and had the same strange texture to it as the other juice I'd been drinking lately. It was enough to make me wonder if there was just something wrong with my tongue. It would be hard to judge, since I'd mostly been eating oatmeal lately, and that tasted gritty and gross to me anyway.
And then, as I reluctantly sucked on the bottle, I watched in horror as she pulled out several large jars of baby food, setting them in front of me in a row, first strained pea, then prune, finally, I guess as a dessert, banana. I groaned from behind the nipple, hoping beyond hope that it was a joke.
"You have to eat," she told me as she heard my wordless protest. "Don't you like these?" I knew it was probably a trap, but I shook my head anyway. "If you want, I can mix them all together and you'll be done with them quicker."
I nearly gagged at just the thought of that, then shook my head vehemently. Not only would probably be incredibly nasty, it wouldn't really go down any faster, since there would be the same amount.
"Just thought I'd offer," she shrugged, opening up the jar of strained peas and taking out a pink spoon. "Now put down your bottle, sweetie, so I can feed you."
"I can feed myself," I informed her, moving my bottle only slightly away from my mouth. That wasn't about to happen, however, and she let me know by snatching the bottle away and replacing it with a heaping spoonful of green mush. Almost instinctively when I felt the texture and tasted it, I wanted it out, sending some of it gushing out the sides of my mouth, down my face and onto my bib, making me look, I realized, even more like an infant. Ms. Shelly scooped it up off my face and shoveled it back in, then followed it up with another over-full serving. There was no escape from it, and just when I finally cleared out the first jar, it was on to the prune. It tasted, if it were even possible, worse than the pea, meaning even more of it wound up decorating my bib, though more than enough got inside me. The banana wasn't bad, but by then I was feel quite full. Ms. Shelly would hear none of that, barely giving me time to say it in between bites, and then, when she was finally done, she stuck my bottle into my mouth, holding it there until I put my hands around it.
My stomach grumbled, clearly having trouble finding room for all this new food when there was so much already in me, and I was squirming and fighting to keep that from coming out. I looked around the table as I drank the bottle, surprised to see how slowly the other kids were eating. We might be there a while, I realized, and I wasn't sure if I'd have that long. Was it going to happen here, as I sucked at a bottle, still wearing a bib smeared with gooey, sticky baby food, the same kind that had just been shoveled into my mouth? Even as I thought it, I felt a cramp, one that made me bite the nipple of the bottle from the pain of it. I pressed my bottom into the seat of the chair, struggling to keep my own prophecy from coming true.
"Is there anything wrong, Holly?" Ms. Shelly asked me sweetly, and I just glared at her while I stopped myself from giving her a show. "Are you still hungry? I can see if I can find anything else for you to eat!"
"No," I groaned, shaking my head. I couldn't imagine eating another bite without exploding.
"Are you sure? I don't want you to go hungry, sweetie." She reached over, patting my full tummy, then starting to rub it again. I tried to swat her hand away desperately, knowing what she was trying and also fully aware that I was in no shape to resist it again. "You're so fussy!" she teased me, thankfully stopping with one final pat. "Do you need a change?" Before I could answer, she was up and walking to her assistant, asking in a stage whisper loud enough for me and anyone else to hear, "Will you be all right here? I think Holly needs a diaper change and a little extra nap time. Besides, she needs cleaning up - she's a messy eater."
"Go ahead," Ms. Marian told her, and just a few seconds later, I was being marched back through the lunch room, still waddling in my even wetter diaper, stomach in even more pain, now in a food-covered bib, while my face was in similar shape. Ms. Shelly took me back to the classroom, and from there back to the bathroom, where she took off my bib and rinsed it off, then roughly washed my face. When she was satisfied, she lifted me up onto the changing table, putting me on the side so my feet dangled off the edge, letting her pull off my boots, putting them next to the diaper bag. She removed my vest as well, folding it and putting it on top of the boots.
She pushed me onto my back and strapped me down so she could dig in the diaper bag for a fresh diaper, and a thick soaker pad that she applied to the center, making sure I could see her doing it. "I don't want a heavy wetter like you leaking during naptime," she informed me. "Because, as you know, once you're down for your nap, you're not to get up again until I tell you it's over. Maybe we should use two. What do you think? Oh, what do you know? We'll do two." She smiled as she saw me squirm as she put on a second soaker, then untaped my current diaper.
This was it, I knew. This time, I knew she wasn't going to let me out of this diaper until I'd pooped it, even if it meant extending my naptime for the rest of the day, not that she was going to need to. Once it was taped on, there was no turning back. "Please!" I squeaked pitifully. She stopped for a moment, looking at me curiously. "Please, let me use the potty!"
"A big baby like you doesn't deserve the potty," she informed me. "Look at how wet you made this diaper!"
"Please!" I tried again.
To my surprise, she unstrapped me, lifting me down to the floor, and then removing my jumper. I started for the toilet, but she stopped me. "Beg," she ordered. I looked up at her in confusion, and she repeated it. "Beg, if you really want to use it. Show me."
I pressed my palms together and stared up at her with pleading eyes. "Please, please let me." She shook her head, and I carefully got down on my knees. "Please, I just want to use the potty."
"Please, let me use the potty," I said. "Please don't make me use my diaper, please."
"Keep going," she instructed. "Why are you asking me? Oh, and, Laura? Don't you dare have an accident on this floor before you're done, young lady."
"B-But..." I flushed, before giving up. I had no way of controlling when, or if, I went, and the whole morning had been proof of that, as I'd tried everything I could think of to stop myself from wetting my diapers, and failed every time. I was just going to have to hurry, and, I was sure, that was Ms. Shelly's whole plan. "I need you to let me because I'm just a baby, and you're a grown-up, and you're in charge of me," I fumbled, not quite sure what she wanted me to say. "Please, I..." I squirmed, feeling a trickle of urine run between my legs. I clamped them even further closed in desperation. "I'm completely in your control, and you can do whatever you want with me. So I'm just asking, please, this once, just let me use the potty!"
"You're right," she beamed, more than happy to confirm all my suspicions. "You are in my control. And you know what I want? I want to see you toddle up to me in a full diaper and beg me for a change. So your little bottom is going right into your nice, thick diaper until you can do that." She picked me up, then wrinkled her nose as she looked down. "I also think you're going to clean that up once I have you in your diaper, so you don't make an even bigger mess."
Stepping around my little puddle, she put me back on the changing table, not bothering with the straps this time before cleaning me up, starting with my crotch so she could shove the extra-thick diaper beneath it, then moving down my legs before going back up to sprinkle a liberal amount of baby powder on me before taping me in. The soakers gave the diaper, which I was starting to get used to, unfortunately, just enough extra bulk for the whole thing to feel strange between my legs again.
"Sit up," she ordered, turning me so my legs dangled over the front of the table once I'd done so. Unsurprisingly, it was to give me more pills and water before lifting me down and handing me a damp paper towel. "Now clean up your mess."
Feeling quite silly, I carefully knelt down in front of the spot I'd been doing the same thing in just a minute or two before, though this time I wouldn't have been able to squeeze my legs together if I wanted to. Not that it would matter - with all this padding between them, there was no way I'd be leaking on the floor again anytime soon. My stomach rumbled ominously beneath my pink shirt, making me sink my bottom down lower onto the tiled floor, pressing the diaper up against me.
"No, no," she shook her head. "Get on your hands and knees and do it."
The cramps in my tummy were still going, and getting stronger, leaving me unable to do much more than sit there, squirming, not able to even beg her, again, for mercy she likely wasn't going to show. She didn't like that, of course. "On your hands and knees, Laura, or I'll make you crawl the rest of the day!"
I opened my mouth, though I wasn't sure what I was going to say, but all that came out was a quiet grunt. I was sure I could weather this, if she just gave me another few seconds. It wouldn't be much, but it would buy me a little more time, and...
It happened almost automatically, my fear at what she'd do to me, or have my nanny do to me, overriding my sense in a moment of panic. I bent forward, sliding my hands out in front of me, trying to make her see I'd do what she wanted just as soon as I could. But I slid just a little too far, felt my bottom lift off the floor. I immediately panicked, trying to drop back down, but it was already too late. As soon as they had an empty space to fill, my bowels were more than willing to do so. I gasped as I felt the mess starting to push out, beyond my control or ability to stop it.
My cheeks turned red from the strain and the humiliation as my body took over, lifting my butt rather than lowering it, forcing my face down until it was against the floor, staring right out at my previous accident as I tried to complete my current one. I felt it hit the back of my diaper, then bulge it out before spreading across the seat, a slow, unstoppable journey that left me short of breath, only to be followed up by another, softer surge of soft mush, ballooning the seat of my pants out even further.
"There's a good girl," Ms. Shelly praised me, snapping another picture before patting my bulging diaper, making me flush and squirm away weakly, every movement reminding me of the inescapable nature of what I'd just done. "Come on," she said after a moment or two, "clean up your little mess so we can get your nap started."
I pouted, staring up at her unhappily. "D-Don't I get a change?"
She shook her head. "I just changed you, sweetie. You should have just gone before that. Now you're going to have to wait." I felt tears forming at the corners of my eyes as I wiggled about in my full pants, but she either didn't notice or didn't care. "On your hands and knees," she reminded me.
I lifted myself on shaky arms, wiping at the wet spot with paper towel after paper towel, until Ms. Shelly stopped handing them to me, making me assume she was satisfied. She grabbed my jumper, but when I started to stand so she could put it on me, she stopped me. "I think you should crawl out," she said. "Then I'll get you dressed again once you're out there."
I knew it wasn't a suggestion, that I had no choice, so I sighed and stayed on my hands and knees, waiting for her to open the bathroom door so I could crawl out, glad to see the other students hadn't somehow snuck back into the room without making a racket. My diaper sagged behind me, swaying slightly with its heavy load, while I crawled beside Ms. Shelly, feeling utterly and completely infantilized.
"I think I'll have you sleep up near my desk, so your stinky pants don't disturb the other kids too much," she told me. "If it gets too bad, maybe I'll see if there's an empty crib somewhere for you." I didn't bother to answer, not sure I even had the strength, mentally or physically. I watched her get me a mat, then lifted my arms for her to slide the jumper over me, glad for that bit of camouflage for my diapers, even if I knew it was probably pointless. Carefully, I laid down on my side, then quickly rolled over onto my stomach, trying to keep from squishing the mess against myself too much.
"Sleep tight," Ms. Shelly said, tugging at the hem of my jumper, then spreading a blanket over me.
I wasn't sure if I'd be able to get to sleep at all, with the state of my diaper, but I hoped I could follow her directions, so I could think, at least for a little while, that I was imagining all this.