Chapter 1

I pulled the Range Rover up to the roundabout behind the line of cars. I put the car in park and pulled out my phone while I waited. It was 3:10, they wouldn’t let out for another 5 minutes. 

I already had a text from Trevor: That was fun. You wear me OUT, girl! I’ve never met someone that could squirt like that!

I smiled and typed back: I never knew I could do that! Never had a dick as big as yours! You know how to push alll my buttons :)

I checked my hair in the rearview mirror. It was still disheveled. I pulled it into a tighter bun and wiped off my smudged lipstick. 

Same time tomorrow? He sent back.

Hmmm…maybe. I smiled facetiously. If I can find a place to watch my husband ;)

His ‘lol’ let me know he got my joke. For the last two months we’d been doing nothing but making love all day. I was so infatuated with him, I couldn’t get enough of him and his cock. He worked the night shift, so it was hard to find time for us at first. Until my friend Erica told me about this special little place…

You couldn’t see anything through the windows of the building. It was all decorated with cartoon bears and balloons and other cutesy stuff. The D.R.E.A.M.S Daycare sign was so bright it could be seen day or night. I can’t remember what it stands for, something like Diaper Rehabilitation Enrichment (Enhancement? Entertainment?) And Male Supervision or something. Whatever it is, it’s worth every penny. 

At 3:15 sharp, the doors parted and a smokin’ hot girl in her early 20’s dressed in scrubs strutted out carrying a walkie talkie. She came to the first car in line and poked her head through the rolled down window. After speaking with the driver she muttered into her radio. Seconds later, the doors opened again and out came another hot young lady walking with a very large, pot-bellied man in a white romper with pink fringe.

Even with my windows up, I could hear his large adult diaper crinkling with every step. He shuffled his feet a bit, as if he were afraid to reach the car waiting for him. His wife looked properly annoyed as she got out of the car and came around. Her expression turned cheerful as she spoke to the lady in scrubs for a couple seconds, then back to stern as she grabbed her husband's ear, twisted, and dragged him to the car kicking and whining. She opened the door and spent several minutes strapping him into his oversized carseat. I could see her berating him through the rear window as she did. When she finally had him secured, she slammed the door, smiled apologetically to those in line behind her, got in on her side, and drove off so the line could move up.

The second one that came out was walking funny in his little pink tutu. Like he had something very large stuck up his butt. But he did have these things over his hands that seemed to restrict his fingers from grasping anything. Like little pink mittens. They even seemed to lock! I thought it would be great for my little one. In no time at all I was able to find them on Amazon and order them for myself before the sissy was loaded into the car. The wonderful thing about women turning more and more men into Adult Babies these days is that all of these sleek new devices are easy to find, purchase, and receive on short notice.

The third one got picked up by a man instead of a woman. He got out and threw his arm around the petrified looking sissy walking out in a short little mini-skirt that did nothing to hide her diaper. The man’s smack on her bottom and the hungry look in his eye told me the sissy would probably be walking funny tomorrow too…

The next one wasn’t even wearing any pink! He came out in a blue onesie with dinosaurs on it! What kind of Mommy would let their husband go out like that?! The absolute gall of some people…

At least the next boy was dressed appropriately. He had on a sundress with a flowery skirt and an adorable matching bow under his stuffed cleavage. He must have been in his early twenties, and it had to be his actual Mother buckling him into the car. A college dropout, no doubt. 

Finally, it was my turn. I pulled into the pick-up spot and rolled down the window. 

“Hi, who are you here for?” the girl with the radio asked cheerfully. 

“Hi! I’m here for Palmer” I told her, and her face immediately dropped.

“As in…Peter Palmer?” she clarified.

“Yes, that’s right. Is everything okay?”

She spoke into the radio, then back to me, “Can you just pull up here to the side for a second Mrs. Palmer? We’ll have your husband right out!”

I felt a little pit rise in my stomach as I put the Range Rover in drive and idled up to the curb. A thousand thoughts were going through my head as to what could be wrong. I checked the door frame of the daycare several times. Nothing.

Well, except for the other diapered adults coming out to get picked up.

After 3 or 4 cars went by behind me, Peter finally stepped out of the double doors. He was wearing a different outfit than the one I put him in this morning. When I dropped him off, he had a cute little pink crop top and white mini-skirt that showed off those ridiculously expensive diapers he had to wear. Now, he was wearing a little sailor outfit. Thankfully, it was still pink, just like his cheeks as he walked out, trailed by Mrs. Olsen, the head Supervisor of the daycare.

“Mrs. Palmer! How are you doing today?” Mrs. Olsen asked when we closed the distance.

“I’m fine,” I said uneasily, “Is everything all right with Peter?”

Peter’s face was flushed, his eyes were on the ground and his hands behind his back as he shifted back and forth guiltily. 

“Well...we had a couple issues today.” Mrs. Olsen said with a sideways glance and awkward smile. She let the silence hang for a bit before continuing. “So…he did eat all of his lunch today! Both of the used condoms you sent were added to his peas and bottle.”

She was starting me off with a complement, trying to ease me in. I waited for the inevitable “but…”

“But…” Mrs. Olsen continued, “I guess he was still hungry? So he had a bit of a tantrum, throwing his empty bowl, making a mess, trying to steal from the other AB’s…that sort of thing.”

“Oh my god!” I exclaimed in the exaggerated, motherly way when they are embarrassed by their children misbehaving, “I’m soo sorry!! I will–”

“And then…” Mrs. Olsen continued, “he was kind of getting…handsy…with another sissy baby named Alex.”

I didn’t feign surprise this time, it was all genuine. My eyes went wide as I looked over at Peter, who was avoiding eye contact and shifting back and forth in shame. Like someone that just got caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

“What were they doing exactly?” I asked, concerned. 

“Just rubbing the fronts of each others’ diapers.  It happens when they get pent up and frustrated. Obviously both of them are caged, so there were no sticky accidents. But we must discourage touching unless they are expressly told to. That being said, we did have to remove Peter’s cage today…”

Now I was furious, what were they doing allowing my husband to have stimulation?? There was a reason I kept that little baby dick of his locked up. If I could keep him from cumming for the rest of my life, I would! I spent too damn long pretending to enjoy his pathetic penis in me, only to find out he was putting it in some other floozy on the side! That cheating bastard got what was coming to him, and an orgasm won’t be ‘cumming’ to him for a VERY long time.

“Don’t worry, he didn’t cum. Well…other than the normal leakage,” Mrs. Olsen explained, “He just had a very messy diaper today, so bad he was leaking into his clothes. That’s why we had to change his outfit! Anyway, we had to remove his cage to give him a proper cleaning.He put up quite the fuss when the cage had to go back on, made quite the scene, but nothing a little restraints and penis paci couldn’t fix.”

I sighed, “That’s a relief! Well…not for him I'm guessing! Haha!” We laughed together, which eased the tension a bit. “Was there anything else?”

Mrs. Olsen’s expression changed again, “Well..during toy time, we caught Peter using…” she searched for the words, “You know those ring stacking toys?”

“Yea…?”

“The ones with the big plastic rings?”

“Yes…”

“Well they have this big yellow rod that the rings go around…”

I waited for her to elaborate, not sure where she was going with this.

“We caught him…well he was…putting that where the…sun doesn't shine.”

Peter had to turn around to avoid my expression. I thought he was going to start crying right then and there from humiliation. I turned him around, making him face me. Still trying to avoid my fierce gaze. But I wanted him to admit it. I wanted him to voice what he did.

“Petey…where did you put it, dear? Where did you put the big yellow stick?”

He cringed and winced at the thought of having to say it out loud. He looked back and forth from me to Mrs. Olsen, knowing there was no way out of it, he would just dig himself a further hole by denying it. 

“I…I put it in my b-bum bum Mommy…” His voice sounded so small. So fucking patthetic. I can’t believe I ever married him.

“Again, he was probably frustrated from so little sexual stimulation.” Mrs. Olsen spoke up, almost defending him. Like it was normal for a grown man to shove stuff up his ass when he got too sexually frustrated. 

“He did use some big boy words today though!” Mrs. Olsen announced.

Usually any mother would be happy that their toddler was expanding their vocabulary. But this daycare was all about regression and programming them to be more infantile. So big boy words were a big no no.

“The usual,” Mrs. Olsen explained, “Fuck, Bitch, Pussy, Toilet, etc. So he did get a mouth soaping, spankings, and corner time for his behavior.”

Peter wiped his mouth, drooling more than usual, I guess he still had the residual soap taste on his tongue.

I’ve never been more embarrassed or ashamed of my own husband. “Well, I’m really sorry about his behavior today, Mrs. Olsen. I will certainly have a talk with him and he will absolutely be punished when he gets home!”

Mrs. Olsen nodded, “It happens. Men his age tend to be very reluctant about their proper place in this world. It’s going to take a lot of discipline on both sides to weed those silly thoughts out of him. If you don’t mind my asking, does he have a…father figure at home?”

I smirked at that as Peter shrivelled up on himself. “Not…at home. I actually just came from his house. He and Peter haven’t really met yet.”

Mrs. Olsen smiled knowingly, “I understand. But if I may make a suggestion: perhaps it’s time the two of them met? Most of our AB’s in the daycare are quite resistant to our methods at first. But it’s not until a proper Alpha is brought into their life that they truly begin to understand their place. I don’t mean to rush you, it’s just something to keep in mind.”

I laughed at Peter’s reaction to this suggestion and to the thought of how he would behave in front of a real man like Trevor. Wriggling around in his diapers and lisping like the little pansy he is. “Thank you, Mrs. Olsen! Again, I’m very sorry about Peter’s behavior! It won’t happen again. Will it, Petey?”

Peter shook his head, whimpering. “No ma’am. Sowwy Missus Olsen!”

Mrs. Olsen laughed, patting Peter on the diapered bum like he was just a child that couldn’t possibly know any better. “Don’t forget! We have our Field Trip this Friday! We’re going to the State Penitentiary so that the AB’s can…entertain…the inmates!”

“He’ll be there!” I grinned, “Petey’s been practicing his oral skills on my strapon! Haven’t you Petey??”

Peter winced again, probably embarrassed at how enthusiastic he tends to get (he’s still dumb enough to think that if he does a good job I’ll let him cum). 

“And he practiced his anal skills today! So he should be our top performer!” Mrs. Olsen chuckled.

After we said our goodbyes, I grabbed Peter by the ear, yanking him all the way to the car. I didn’t want him to think that just because I was laughing with Mrs. Olsen that I’d forgotten about his poor report. 

“I-i’m sowwy, Mommy!!” Peter sniffled as I pushed him into the carseat and started strapping him up, “I can expwain!!”

“SHUT IT!” I barked, cutting him off and making him cower in fear. “Do you have any idea how much you just embarrassed me today? Have I not been strict enough to you? Have I not paddled you enough each day? Have I not deprived you of cumming for long enough??”

“No!! It’s not that!! I–”

“QUIET!” I smacked him across his tear-stained cheek, pulling out a penis paci from my purse and jamming it between his blubbering lips.

“As soon as we get home, you are going to put in the biggest buttplug we have and I am going to paddle your ass until you can’t fucking sit anymore. And to think you were going to get to cum this week!” He wasn’t, but it’s nice to make him think that. Apparently it worked, because he really started bawling at that point. I pulled the strap of the carseat between his legs and cinched it tight. Pressing the hard metal cage tight against his pelvic bone until he whimpered. “Maybe I’m not spanking you hard enough. Maybe I just don’t have enough of a dominating presence…” I mused, watching Peter’s eyes get wide around his paci. Like he knew where this was going. 

“Maybe it’s time you met your new Daddy!” I exclaimed, and listened to him cry the whole way home.

To be Continued