The Daycare Machine (Part 1)
Paul was sitting in his mom's car on the way to the daycare center, and sadly for him, he had a little "accident" previously on the way there, which his mom wasn't too happy about. They both remained totally silent on the way to the daycare. Paul expected the daycare to have a change of clothes. There were very few points in his life this embarassing.
After arriving, Paul unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the back seat. His mom got out as well. He stood next to her as they both approached the daycare. Paul wondered what would happen next with his accident, he remained very nervous.
They entered the daycare center. The lobby was a small backwards-L-shaped room where when you walked in, you could head straight, or to the left. There was white carpeting in the whole lobby, but behind the front counter, where the kids could play, there was some weird, soft material for the floors.
Paul's mom looked around and saw the front desk, but then looked to the left and saw something else. It had been their a while, but she had never actually thought to use it. A babysitting machine, of course, for babies.
"Hey, I have an idea." Paul's mom said, finally breaking the silence.
"What?" Paul asked.
"Let's try this daycare machine over here." Paul's mom approached it.
"Wait, no. I'm six. That's for babies, mom." Paul said.
"Says the one with the wet pants. Come here." Paul's mom replied.
"No, I'm a big boy, let's go to the big boy room." Paul groaned.
Paul's mom walked back to Paul and snatched his wrist, then started to walk back to the machine with him. Paul tried to jerk his hand back, shouting and yelling at her for what she was doing.
"I'm NOT a baby!" Paul cried out.
"That explains the crying and screaming." Paul's mom said, lifting him up and laying him on the platform. The way the machine worked was that there was a metal platform with a strap around the middle, to strap the child in to be prepared for the machine. It was on a conveyor belt, along with three other platforms, likely for multiple drop-offs.
"Stop it! Let me go to the big boy room!" Paul shouted, trying to get out of his mother's hands.
Paul's mom sighed and strapped him in. The only way to unlock the strap was with a magnet, which only the machine itself or someone who worked at the daycare had. He was stuck. But he still tried to jerk on the strap, trying to break free, screaming and crying.
"Paul, you need to calm down." Paul's mom said, angrily.
"Big boy room!" Paul managed to get out, pointing in the general direction of the front desk.
Paul's mom looked at the device next to the conveyor belt, reading on what to do and how to work this hilarious mechanism. She worked the machine a bit.
"Mom, I'm not a baby!" Paul shouted.
"Then you would be able to hold it!" His mom replied.
"It's called an accident for a reason!" Paul shouted back.
The conveyor belt, which went right into a hole in the wall, suddenly moved, making Paul jump.
"No, mom, wait!" He cried. He was scared of the machine. What would it do to him? Paul's mom did nothing to stop it.
vv-*-Part you likely came to see-*-vv
Paul was now inside the machine. He quickly looked around, wondering what awaited. He could hear mechanical noises, such as wirring, in the distance, and could smell baby powder. He tried to look around. He couldn't see much. He was in a square, metal tunnel with a few square holes in the ceiling. And, of course, a conveyor belt on the floor. There was also a window on the side of the tunnel that his feet faced.
When Paul was moved under one of the holes in the ceiling, the belt had abruptly stopped. Suddenly, a mechanical hand came down and slowly approached Paul. He screamed and jerked at the strap that held him. The machine simply went flat down on his arms, since they were in the way of his stomach. They pushed down lightly, then went back up. Checking to see if something was actually there. Paul looked around. What would possibly happen next?
The belt started up again, of course, scaring Paul. It seemed to stop whenever one of the platforms was above the first hole in the ceiling. After the other platforms were checked, it just carried on.
Paul was now under another platform, of course, another abrupt stop. He suddenly looked straight up, ready to fight, if neccesary.
Three arms came out. He started to punch upwards, looking away, hoping to do some serious damage. The arms grabbed his arms near his shoulders, since they moved the least, and slid up to his wrists. "Hey!" Paul shouted. "Let go!" He started to kick. The machine did the same thing with his legs. The other hand started at his butt and went up his leg, holding it place, then another hand came down and took his shoe off. It repeated the process with his other leg. "Stop it!" Paul cried. "Give those back!"
Another arm came down after his shoes were safely stored. It grabbed the left leg hole of his shorts and pulled them down, then the hands holding his legs let go. The hand holding his shorts removed them. "Stop it! Give those back! This isn't funny! It's mean!" Paul called out, teary and afraid.
After getting his ankles back, two more hands came down, grabbing the bottom of his shirt, lifting it up and letting his arms go. Paul grabbed his shirt after it was removed. He refused to let it go. His legs were let go, and the hands holding them tickled Paul's stomach. He quickly and accidentally let go. He just cried and tried to reach for his shirt as it was carried away. He was only wearing soggy undies.
The machine advanced again, and Paul was trying to rip the strap off again. The platform stopped over another hole in the ceiling, and Paul was full of fear. "Help!!!" Paul cried out, still teary. Paul continued to cry as another set of hands came down and held Paul down, the same way as last time. After his arms and legs were constricted, another hand came down and felt the front of his undies, checking his gender. Paul screamed. "Stop it, that's weird!!"
After, it grabbed the rim of his undies and pulled them down, releasing his legs to remove the undies.
"Hey! Give those back!!!" Paul screamed, yet again. Another arm came down, but it was different. Instead of a hand, it had a spinning scrubber. It was damp and soapy. His legs were caught again and the scrubber was pressed against his private parts and butt. Paul, of course, cried even harder.
After about 20 seconds of scrubbing, the scrubber retreated to its hole in the ceiling, then the hands released Paul and the conveyor belt went on. Paul was still crying and calling for help, of course. The fur around his areas was damp. He just wanted to go to the big boy room in the daycare.
Once again, the belt abruptly stopped under a hole on the ceiling. More hands constricted him, as expected. After that, three more hands came out, one holding baby powder, and the others, a baby diaper. The powder hand powdered Paul, causing him to have a coughing fit. The machine slipped the diaper under him, not-so-gently pulled his tail through the hole in the back of the baby diaper, then closed it, nice and tight. After the diaper was put on him, a hand holding a stamper came down and smacked right down on the crotch of his diaper, putting down a bar code. Paul screamed "Ow! Stop!" Then, the hands holding Paul released him.
Afterwords, Paul reached the end of the belt. It was slightly under the floor, making the fall from the top of the belt half a foot from the ground. The strap unlocked , and the belt rolled Paul off, onto the soft, padded floor.
Paul quickly untaped his diaper after getting up. But suddenly, a hand came from the wall next to him and grabbed his tail.
"Hey, no! Let go of my tail!" Paul said, trying to walk forward.
The hand lifted Paul's tail, and another hand came from the wall and spanked his butt. Paul screamed and cried again. Then, the hands laid him down and put the diaper back on him. Paul discovered that just taking it off wouldn't work.
Paul looked around, there were about a dozen babies crawling around. Mostly feline. Some were being fed or changed, others playing with toys.
~To Be Continued...
(Please wait for part 2. Yes, this one was a bit boring, but I had to start it somehow. The next one will have a bit more going on.)