Addiction

Chapter 14
Where Is My Mind

Today: Time Unknown

14. With your feet in the air

And your head on the ground

Try this trick and spin it, yeah

Your head will collapse

But there’s nothing in it

And you’ll ask yourself

Where is my mind?

Where is my mind?

Where is my mind?

-The Pixies; “Where Is My Mind”.

“Well, who do we have here?” The Mama in the nursery scrubs bent over to get a better look at Damien in his stroller.

“This is Damien,” Mama said with no small amount of pride in her voice.

“Awww!” Nursery Scrubs gushed, “Hello Damien! It’s been so long, I almost didn’t recognize you!” She gave Damien a little wave. Damien smiled a big toothless grin and hid his face in his hands. This was all so much to take in. Mama had dressed him up in a nice pair of overalls and taken him to this strange place that he only vaguely remembered.

All around the big nursery room, big babies, just like him, played and laughed and toddled and crawled on the floor while other Mamas in uniform played with them, fed them, rocked them in their tremendously strong arms, and changed their diapers.

“He is just adorable,” the other Mama praised.

“Well, I think so.” Damien’s Mama remarked. He was surrounded by Mamas. It was amazing. Everywhere he looked, he saw women who had the exact same face and voice as his Mama.

“Mamamamamama?!” Damien babbled his question. Both women laughed at the little guy. Damien blushed and smiled and went back to hiding his face in his hands. He must have done something funny.

“Awwww! How cute. He thinks we look the same.” Damien heard the Mama in the nursery scrubs remark.

“Well, it’s hard to tell for him.” Damien’s Mama said.

“It always is, Lucille. It always is. Now,” the Mama in the nursery scrubs looked up to Damien’s Mama and in a very businesslike tone said, “I can’t tell by what he’s wearing. Diapers, Pull-Ups, or Big Boy Pants?”

“Oh, diapers, definitely,” Mama told the other grown-up. “He’s not ready for the big boy potty by a long shot.”

“Good,” the Mama in the nursery scrubs said. “We don’t accept charges that are out of diapers.”

“Good,” Mama agreed. “I don’t want my little boy to get any big ideas.”

“Oh, Hades no,” the Mama in the nursery scrubs waved the idea away. “We do everything we can here to make it so they never feel any shame about being who they are or take any pride in their independence. We’d let them run around naked if it weren’t for the mess.” Both Mama’s laughed and nodded knowingly at that.

“Is everything here developmentally appropriate?” Mama asked.

“Of course not,” the other Mama said. “We do everything we can here to encourage stimulation without fostering development. We wouldn’t them to progress any further than they already are, would we?” She peeled back Damien’s hands and made a silly face at him. Damien couldn’t help but smile bashfully.

“Good,” Mama approved over Damien’s giggling.

“Speaking of progress,” the other Mama went on, “I’m not seeing any teeth.” She stuck her finger in Damien’s mouth and ran her finger along his soft and smooth gums.

“Yes,” Mama replied, “he can have baby food, but I mostly feed him milk.”

“Okay,” the Mama in the nursery scrubs nodded, “how long did you say he’d been Re-Leased?”

“Three months to the day,” Damien’s Mama said.

“Really?” There was hint of surprise in the other Mama’s voice. “And he’s already out of training pants?”

“Oh, I didn’t bother with training pants,” Mama told the other one, “You handed him to me in a diaper, so I kept him that way. Why bother with training pants anyways? Why give them a diaper they can take off themselves? That will only slow down their Re-Lease.”

The other Mama smiled. “You’ve been listening to my lectures, haven’t you?”

“Well you are the most experienced one, Lucy.”

“Thank you Lucille, I appreciate that.” The other Mama smiled politely. “Have you been able to pull him across the threshold, yet?”

“No,” Damien’s Mama sighed. “I’ve tried a few times, but his worldly self keeps blinking out before I can.”

“Oh, so you mean the rest of him is…?” the Mama in the scrubs started.

“Back there, I’m afraid. I’m sorry. I just needed a break.” Mama said, sounding defeated.

“Don’t worry about it,” the other Mama reassured her, “Almost no one fully gets their baby to cross the threshold without a little help. The fact that he’s this far along in only three months is a testament to how good a job you’ve done with him.”

“I just got lucky,” Mama replied, “Damien is such a good baby,”

Damien squirmed in his stroller. The grown-ups talking to each other was soooo boring. He wanted to get out on the floor and play with the other babies. The Mamas must have noticed.

“Oh, looks like we’ve got a squirmy baby,” Mama’s friend that looked like her said. She bent over and began to unbuckle Damien from his stroller. “Does he walk or crawl?” she asked up at Mama.

“Honestly, I’ve been carrying him this whole time,” Mama answered, “so I don’t know.”

“Well, only one way to find out,” the daycare worker Mama announced. Damien found himself being lifted out of his stroller and placed on his tummy on the floor. Damien looked up and both grown-ups were saying something to him and motioning for him to do something. Their words started to lose meaning, but their gestures were clear. They wanted him to go to them.

With considerable effort, Damien pushed himself up to his hands and knees. Then, very slowly, he put one hand ahead of him and almost lost his balance. He moved his back leg forward to catch himself. Next, he moved his back hand forward, almost fell, and then caught himself with his back leg. Just to be safe, he never moved more than one limb at a time. He smiled at how clever he was.

“Oh my, Lucille,” the Mama in the nursery scrubs gushed, “he can barely crawl. He’s a keeper!”

“I know, right?!” his Mama beamed.

“You go on ahead, and take a break, Lucille,” the other Mama instructed, “I’ll take it from here.”

“Are you sure?” asked Damien’s Mama.

“You’ve already done most of the hard work,” the other Mama complimented Damien’s Mama. “Besides,” she grinned. “I was literally made for this.”

“Well…” Mama hesitated, “alright.” She walked over to Damien and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Be a good baby, Damien, while Mama’s gone, alright?”

“Blurgle babababababa!’ Damien agreed, before his Mama walked away and out the door of the Daycare.

“Oh, we are going to have such fun!” the other Mama cooed to Damien. Damien babbled complete gibberish in response.

“Now what will we do first?” Mama Lucy asked her newest charge. A loud creaking sound echoed through the room. Mama Lucy’s head snapped up to attention.

“Oh, Tracy!” another Mama called out, this one in plain pink scrubs. “Don’t do that! Don’t!” Howls of confusion and crying filled the air as a book shelf crashed to the ground.

“I miss the old days,” Mama Lucy huffed, “when none of them could walk.” Her eyes flashed a bloody red for a moment before returning to their normal crystal blue color. “Coming to help, Lucille,” she called out, “just get Tracy away from there. Tracy!” she yelled at the other baby standing crying by the shelf. “Tracy Samson, you get away from there and onto the naughty stool this instant!”

Lacking patience, little Damien started to crawl around the floor and explore. Everywhere, there were babies just like him, and toys everywhere. There were more fun things to play with and roll and chew on and cuddle and stack than there were in his entire apartment. Why did he have an apartment? Damien quickly shook that rogue thought from his conscious mind as he continued exploring this wondrous yet familiar new place.

He made little grunts of effort with each limb he moved, his diaper crinkling underneath his overalls with each shift. Suddenly, and for no particular reason, he stopped. Yet he heard himself keep grunting. What was that all about? Then, just as quickly as he began, Damien felt relief from some unknown oppressive source inside of him, and he kept crawling along. For some reason though, his diaper didn’t crinkle as much now. His diaper felt…fuller. Oh well, what went on inside his pants wasn’t his problem anyways. Someone else would clean him up later. They always did.

Some of the bigger babies ran around him playing tag with each other. Damien wanted to play too, and slowly followed the faster children around the room with all the determination of the tortoise of Aesop’s Fables. The metaphorical hares in this instance, though, were in no mood for napping. They paid no mind to little Damien as he desperately grunted and inched towards their game of tag.

At one point, one of the toddlers even ran right buy him, giving Damien a clear glimpse at the very wet diaper underneath her pink sundress. Damien grinned looking at the bigger baby’s padded butt. The front of his diaper crinkled a little bit as his penis started to stiffen and bulge. He dropped to his stomach and started grinding himself on the carpeted floor. He was going to make cummies in his diaper like a good baby and make his Mama proud!

Then something about one of the toddlers caused Damien to stop. The one whose diaper he’d peeked at had curling locks of red hair flowing past her shoulders. She seemed familiar to him. He had seen this other baby from somewhere, even if though he couldn’t quite remember.

Just as familiar to him, even when covered by the diaper, Damien recognized the curves of those hips, and the little hint of a tummy. He’d seen this baby without her diaper on before. He’d seen this baby naked before. No…he’d seen this woman naked before!

“Delilah?” the words came out of Damien’s mouth unbidden. Damien blinked and came back to himself. Oh god, he was in some kind of adult daycare now. He was surrounded by clones of the madwoman who had babied him. There were at least a dozen so-called “Mama’s” or “Lucille’s” or whatever, and there were at least three times that number of adults acting like children. No, “children” wasn’t the right word, “babies” was.

“Damien?!” Delilah gasped, blinking in surprise. Damien saw the inside of her mouth and noticed it was missing teeth. He had seen hockey players with more teeth than Delilah sported right this second. “What’th going on? Why am I dreaming about you, now?”

“You’re dreaming?!” Damien said with incredulity.

“I knew I shouldn’t have fallen athleep at your plathe while you were gone,” she chided herself, stomping her foot. Ignoring Damien, she lifted her dress up with one hand and squeezed her crotch with the other. “Not agaaaain!” she whined throwing her head back. “Can’t I have a dry diaper, jutht onthe?!”

A pair of hands reached down and grabbed Damien by the waist. “You can both have nice clean diapers right away if you wait and stick around long enough.” A daycare worker with a face matching Mama’s. It wasn’t the different one in the nursery scrubs though, the one Mama called “Lucy”, instead of “Lucille.” This one was wearing a green sweater and a brown skirt and she draped Damien over her shoulder as she walked him over to an adult sized changing table.

Another “Mama Lucille” wearing jeans and a pink t-shirt came up and took Delilah’s hand. “Diaper change time,” she smiled at Delilah.

“Fine,” Delilah huffed, “maybe that meanth my diaper will be dry when I wake up, too.”

“Delilah! No!” Damien screamed as he was being lain down on a table large and sturdy enough to accommodate him with ease. “It’th a trap!” Delilah just rolled her eyes at Damien’s panic, and allowed herself to be boosted up on a neighboring table.

“I am, like, tho beyond caring right now,” Delilah told Damian as the Lucille clone in the jeans and t-shirt hike up her dress and tore the tapes off her diaper. “You have no idea what kind of shit I’ve had to go through thethe latht couple of weekth. I’m done.”

“Actually, I do!” Damien yelled back. He tried to sit up, but once again, his body was betraying him from the moment he was laid down. No matter how much he willed it, his body wouldn’t move from the changing table.

The Lucille that was attending to him was unbuttoning the snaps running down his legs and up his crotch, revealing the ver used diaper underneath. She muscled the overalls up past his hips and the denim started to bunch up above his bellybutton. His hips raised slightly and Damien felt an uncomfortable squish as his padded behind came back down to the mat and something slid around his backside.

“Don’t worry, honey,” the Lucille in the green sweater cooed. “Once you’ve both been changed, you and your little friend can play all you want, forever and ever.”

Damien could only whimper pathetically as the woman ripped off the two oversized tapes and opened his used diaper up, exposing his muck caked backside and genitals to open air. Behind him, he heard Delilah giggling as another identical tormentor wiped her private parts. With practiced ease, the Lucille crossed Damien’s ankles and lifted his legs up in the air.

“damien”

Damien was left staring at his feet, now shod in Velcro sneakers, while the woman cooed at him at dragged cold wipes across his genitals and backside. He couldn’t even lift his hands to cover his eyes, or suck his thumb.

“damien”

The woman yanked the used diaper out from underneath Damien, and balled it up with one hand. Damien’s legs and rump were lowered back down briefly while she threw the used diaper away and produced a fresh one from underneath the changing table. The scent of baby powder prematurely filling Damien’s nostrils clued him in on what was happening to Delilah.

“damien”

Damien found his legs lifted up again as the daycare worker slid the fresh diaper under his rump. The padding crinkled a little as his backside was lowered down onto it. His legs still in the air, Mama’s clone grabbed a bottle of baby powder and sprinkled it generously on his privates. Behind him, he heard another lady cooing “All done,” and heard Delilah’s incoherent babbling.

“Damien!”

“Almost done,” his newest tormentor declared as she carefully pulled up the front of the diaper between his legs. The little red baby devil smiled back up at him from the waistband.

“DAMIEN!”

She reached to Damien’s right side and she pulled it up over the front flap of his diaper. She stuck the tab snugly in place and Damien swore he saw a little red spark dance from her fingertips onto the diaper. She reached over to his left side and pulled it up over the front, guiding the final tab over to secure the garment around Damien completely.

“DAAAAAMIEN!”

Damien’s eyes shot awake. He was lying on the floor of his cubicle, his pants around his ankles for some reason, wearing a very, very used adult diaper. He shot a nearly toothless grin up to his boss.

“Thankth,” he said.

“You’re fired,” his boss replied.