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Sent Back and Diapered at Daycare - Part 1
🕑 Added 2021-06-16 03:35:45 +0000 UTC
The following story contains adult content and is intended only for adult readers over the age of 18. Any characters depicted in adult situations are over the age of 18. This story is entirely fictional and has been written and shared for entertainment purposes only.
I gasped from the backseat of my Mom’s van as it came into view…
Merry Summers Daycare Center.
She was serious. She was actually sending me back to daycare.
I still couldn’t believe this was happening. As an 18-year-old high schooler, I hadn’t set foot in Merry Summers in at least a decade. Let alone prepared to spend my whole summer there.
But here I was, sitting in the back seat of my Mom’s van while she pulled into the parking lot before going to work.
I thought back to last week, when this whole stupid situation started. My Mom got home early from work one day and found me and my friends smoking pot in my room after school.
“Lucas!” She screamed at me after sending all my friends home, “It’s clear that you simply cannot be trusted to be left alone, even at your age. Which is a problem, because your summer break starts next week, and I’ll be at work all day. But don’t you worry, I’m going to find a solution to this problem. And by the way, I promise, you’re not going to like it.”
At the time, I ignored the threat and hoped she would just forget about the whole thing over the next few days. But then, last night, she sat me down and explained that she was going to drop me back off at my old daycare again for the summer!
“Since you’ve been acting about as responsible as a toddler… I think it’s only reasonable that you get looked after like one,” she said.
I was mortified, but still brushed it off as an empty threat to embarrass me. I didn’t think there was any way she could actually do such a thing. I assumed she was just trying to scare me straight.
But this morning, I quickly discovered how wrong I was when I woke to her banging down my bedroom door at the crack of dawn, dragging me out of bed, and shoving me into the back seat of her van…
And now, as she pulled into a parking space, I still just couldn’t believe my eyes.
Merry Summers. My old daycare center. It still looked exactly the same as when I walked through the front doors every morning as a kid.
Its real name should be Miserable Summers. At least that’s how I always felt about it, anyway.
I never liked the place, even when I was actually still young enough to belong there! Even as an elementary schooler, I always felt babied and embarrassed about still having to go to daycare after school and in the summer. I even remember that the day my Mom finally told me I didn’t have to go to stupid daycare anymore, was one of the happiest days of my young life. And that was when I was eight!
Yet here I was, back again as an 18-year-old! To say that I was mortified would be the understatement of the century…
My Mom opened the car door, grabbed my hand, and began walking me toward the front door of the daycare center like I was a fricken’ toddler again!
But as much as I was boiling with anger and humiliation, I bit my tongue and tried to stay calm. After all, I thought, it’s not actually possible for her to do this. A daycare can’t enroll a kid my age!
From what I remembered, the oldest kid they allowed there was about eight. And from the glimpse I caught of other kids coming in and going to their respective rooms, the oldest seemed about seven.
But unfortunately, I would soon discover I was very, very wrong.
Of course, under normal circumstances, I would have been right. But I would soon find out these were not normal circumstances.
My first indication would be when my Mom and I were welcomed in to sit down with the daycare center principle… Miss Turner.
And it would quickly become clear to me that Miss Turner didn’t care one bit about what was normal for a daycare center to do…
* * *
“It’s great to meet you and your little guy in person, Mrs. Jones,” the daycare principal, Miss Turner, said as we walked into her office. “You can have little Lucas sit down in that chair next to you while we finish going over his enrollment paperwork.”
I was immediately miffed that this woman was already talking to my Mom as if I were a child. And I was ten times even more insulted when the chair she pointed me to sit in was a small, brightly colored, plastic kid’s chair.
But I still swallowed my anger, sure that this whole thing would be cleared up and over with by the end of the conversation my Mom and the principal were about to have.
I hate to say it, but I tuned out pretty quickly and started scrolling through my phone as they started talking about some boring financial and paperwork stuff I couldn’t keep up with.
But after a few more minutes, I looked up to see that my Mom was suddenly signing paperwork and handing over various ID documents!
“And like I said over the phone,” Miss Turner said to my Mom, “Little Lucas’s first day can start right now as you head off to work for the day.”
“Perfect,” my Mom smiled as she signed another document.
“Wait!” I finally blurted out. “You know I’m 18, right? You know I’m way too old to actually be enrolled here at a daycare center!”
Miss Turner suddenly flashed me a highly disappointed glare, as if I was a child who had just shouted a cuss word.
“Oh, right,” my Mom said to Miss Turner, “I suppose I should double-check, then. Are there any issues with his age?”
Miss Turner shot me an evil smirk, then looked back at my Mom and smiled.
“Oh, don’t worry, Mrs. Jones, it’s just like I explained it over the phone,” she said. “Normally, of course, little Lucas would be too old to enroll here. But according to the thorough behavioral survey you submitted on his behalf, it’s clear that he acts about as mature as a six-year-old, so we’re more than capable to enroll him as such for the purposes of our program.”
My jaw dropped to the floor. I couldn’t believe my ears. But my Mom just grinned and finished signing the paperwork.
I immediately suspected that there was treachery afoot. My Mom must have known Miss Turner from elsewhere, and was putting me through this whole thing as some sort of extravagant prank to humiliate me as a punishment.
And yet… I was still powerless to stop it.
After all, my Mom’s always been pretty strict, and I’ve always known that she could make my life a living hell if she really wanted to. At least, while I was still living under her roof.
She had already been making it abundantly clear to me for years now, that she’d be happy to kick me out of her house and not pay a dime for my college next year if I decided not to obey her rules and discipline.
And I knew that was more true than ever, now that I was a legal adult.
As much as I suddenly wanted to leap to my feet and take off running… the idea of spending my summer homeless still seemed worse than this stupid ‘back to daycare’ gimmick she was putting me through at the moment.
Besides, I thought to myself, she’s probably only going to actually make me do this for one day. I bet if I just keep my mouth shut and play along, she’ll be telling me the whole thing is over by dinnertime tonight.
Of course, that was easier said than done, given the mortifying humiliation of the situation. And my first painfully humiliating test of obedience came just seconds later…
“Alright, Lucas, Mommy needs to go to work now,” my Mom said, turning to me with a big grin. “Can you promise to be a good boy for Miss Turner and all your teachers at daycare today until I come back to pick you up tonight?”
I gulped, and with cheeks flushing bright red, I meekly nodded and murmured…
“Yes, Mommy. I’ll be good.”
Both women erupted with giggles at my demeaning response, making my cheeks burn even hotter and confirming my theory that they were both in on this just to humiliate me.
But once again, I avoided raising any protest, staying obediently silent as my Mom gave me a quick hug and left to go to work.
After all, I told myself, the worst of my humiliation that day was probably over. Because surely Miss Turner and the other staff wouldn’t have any interest in keeping this charade up much longer, once my Mom was gone.
But unfortunately, as Miss Turner grabbed my hand to walk me to my daycare room, I quickly learned that my humiliation at Merry Summers daycare was only just about to begin.
* * *
“Your Mommy says you’ve been quite the handful for her at home, Lucas,” Miss Turner said as she dragged me into one of the daycare rooms.
“You can stop the act now, my Mom is gone,” I said back to her.
Miss Turner spun on her heels and stared straight down at me. “Excuse me, young man?”
“Look, I don’t know what sort of money my Mom must have slipped you under the table to spend the day humiliating me like this, but don’t worry, you can stop putting so much effort into the act now. I know I don’t actually belong here. So, if you want to just leave me alone to scroll my phone in the corner, I’ll be out of your hair all day, and I’ll make sure to tell my Mom you really made me learn my lesson, okay?”
I turned to walk away, when suddenly…
YOW! Miss Turner yanked me by the wrist. Hard!!
“Young man!” She screamed in my ear. “You are never, ever, to speak to me or any of my staff members in such a disrespectful way ever again! Nothing about the rules of our facility are part of any sort of act, as you so arrogantly insinuated. And on that note, you are never, ever, to attempt to walk away from an adult accompanying you to your day room like that again. Is that understood!?”
“Ouch!” I whimpered, rubbing my shoulder. “Jesus, calm down! You almost yanked my frickin shoulder from its socket—“
“Oh, that’s it,” Miss Turner seethed. “I warned you. I guess we have to do this the hard way right off the bat.”
“Huh?”
Before I even knew what was happening, Miss Turner yanked me forward into the daycare room…
Spun me around at the front of the room…
And threw me over her knee.
WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP!
“This is the second time I’m telling you. You are never to use such a disrespectful tone toward me or any of my staff!” she screeched as she started spanking my behind with her open hand.
WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP!
“Ow! Ow! Ow ow ow!!! What are you doing??” I screeched back in shock. “You can’t do this! You’re not allowed to spank me! This is illegal! Oww!!!!!”
WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP!
Miss Turner erupted in laughter at my pathetic cries. “Oh, yes I am allowed to spank you, Lucas. Your Mother signed all the paperwork we need to use all means at our disposal to keep you under control. And believe it or not, that includes corporal punishment, which is perfectly legal for a boy your age, despite your severe immaturity.”
“What?” I screamed in shock. “Stop! Please, wait, please, you can’t do this—“
WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP!
“You need to learn right now, that what I can do and what I can’t do, isn’t up to you, you naughty little boy! The only thing that is up to you, is whether you’re going to decide to obey the rules, or whether you’re going to keep getting your bottom spanked, instead.”
WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP!
“Okay, okay!” I squealed, my legs kicking and flailing from the surprisingly painful assault, despite the spanking still being over my jeans. “I promise I’ll be good! I’ll follow the rules!”
“Good,” Miss Turner said.
There was a brief pause as we both caught our breath.
“Now, we have plenty of rules here, Lucas,” Miss Turner continued. “Rules you have all summer to spend learning. But one of the first ones is that you always, always, immediately do what an adult asks you to do, without talking back. Is that understood?”
I nodded my head.
“Good,” Miss Turner said. “Now I want you to stand up, drop your pants to your ankles, and bend right back over my knee, so we can continue with your spanking.”
“What??” I squealed in shock. “Please, don’t, I promise I’ll be—“
WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP!
“Owww Owww Owww!” I screamed and flailed again.
WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP!
“WHAT DID I JUST SAY ABOUT DOING WHAT AN ADULT ASKS YOU TO DO?” Miss Turner screamed at me. “Do I need to add a long time out onto your punishment as well??”
WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP!
“Ow! Ow! Ow! I’m sorry! I’ll do it! I’ll do it, I promise!” I kicked and squealed at the top of my lungs.
WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP!
Her blows finally came to another stop. “Okay then, do as I asked, right now,” she ordered.
In a state of terror, I eagerly jumped to my feet and obediently undid my pants with trembling fingers.
As soon as they fell to my ankles, Miss Turner yanked me right back over her lap, pulled down the top of my boxers, and continued her assault on my bare bottom, tightly pinning my arm behind my back to keep me in place.
WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!
I kicked and squealed and screamed louder than ever as she mercilessly blistered my bare bottom red.
WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!
“You have been a naughty, naughty, boy for a long time, Lucas, and it ends now!” Miss Turner scolded as her blows rained down.
I screamed and sobbed for mercy. Tears and snot poured down my face. I had never been spanked before in my life, and this one was more painful than I ever could have imagined a spanking could be.
WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!
“From now on,” Miss Turner scolded, “I expect you to be perfectly behaved at all times. If I hear even one more report of any disrespect, backtalk, or disobedience of any kind while you are under our roof, I will be putting you right back over my knee again and spanking you for twice as long, or however long it takes, for that matter!”
“DO. I. MAKE. MYSELF. CLEAR?” Miss Turner finally asked, punctuating each of her words with another blow.
“YES!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. “I’ll be a good boy! I’ll do whatever you want! I promise!” I sobbed. “Just please! Please no more spankees!”
“Good,” she said. She then delivered one more volley just for good measure.
WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!
Finally, it was over.
I was sobbing like a baby as she promptly stood me back up, still tightly gripping my wrist.
“Good morning, everyone,” Miss Turner suddenly said. “Say hello to your new classmate for the summer, Little Lucas.”
I slowly turned around, and to my utter horror, I realized…
The daycare room was full of other kids. Dozens of them, all elementary school age, standing and gawking at my pathetic state, no doubt all of them audience to every moment of my spanking. Miss Turner had yanked me into the room so fast, I hadn’t even realized there were so many others already there.
“As you can see from his crybaby tears, booger-nose, and red little bottom,” Miss Turner added, “he might still need a lot of help from all of you on learning how to properly behave himself for his age.”
And with that, the room of kids exploded into uncontrollable hysterics.
I stood there with my pants down, mortified and helpless, as the crowd of countless kids pointed and jeered and cackled at my expense for what felt like an eternity.
And I slowly realized, even though I had walked through the front door of Merry Summers just that morning knowing that I was the oldest kid there by at least a decade…
I now felt like the youngest one by far.
