The New Daycare
You clenched your hole, trying to prolong messing yourself. You continued to let the robot feed you until the jar was empty, so it would let you out of the high chair. When the last spoonful was down, a wet cloth wiped your messy face, before the arms set you down on the floor, removing the clothespin and dress.
You pressed your mittened hands to the seat of your padding, feeling the pressure build even stronger. You glanced around, frantically searching for a bathroom, but not existed. There were only changing tables and diapers. You whimpered as your body took over and a log started forcing its way out, dropping into the back of your padding. When the second one started coming, you stopped trying to clench, just wanting to get the pain over with.
Relief washed over you as the last turd found its new home, your gut felt much better. But then a sense of shame washed over you. How could you? How could you mess yourself like you weren’t even potty trained?
You felt tears well up, but blinked them away. You couldn’t cry. Crying would be even more babyish. But then again, you were already in some heavily soiled padding…
You pressed your mittened hands to the seat of your padding, feeling the pressure build even stronger. You glanced around, frantically searching for a bathroom, but not existed. There were only changing tables and diapers. You whimpered as your body took over and a log started forcing its way out, dropping into the back of your padding. When the second one started coming, you stopped trying to clench, just wanting to get the pain over with.
Relief washed over you as the last turd found its new home, your gut felt much better. But then a sense of shame washed over you. How could you? How could you mess yourself like you weren’t even potty trained?
You felt tears well up, but blinked them away. You couldn’t cry. Crying would be even more babyish. But then again, you were already in some heavily soiled padding…