Abandoned Daycare

Chapter 4: A Bottle?!

*Steve's point of view when they separated*

Steve struggled against the mannequin's grasp, his heart pounding in his chest. He was filled with embarrassment, fear, and confusion. This couldn't be happening. They were adults, not children. But the more he protested, the tighter it held him, its comforting words trying to soothe him only made him angrier and angrier at the situation he found himself in.

As they reached the top of the stairs, Steve's protests grew more desperate. "Please, let me go! We're not children!" he pleaded, but its smile remained unfazed. It carried him back into the changing room, lined with diaper boxes and changing tables.

Setting him down gently on a changing table, it cooed, "It's time to get you cleaned up and changed, sweetie." Steve's face burned with embarrassment as it began to undress him, revealing his boxer briefs underneath his pants. He tried to resist, but its gentle yet firm touch made it impossible. It secured him to the table just as the other mannequin did with Ashley. He was stuck now; the straps were locked in a way that refused to budge for him, no matter how hard he tried.

Steve refused to just let this happen; he refused to get diapered like Ashley. He threw his body around as much as he could in hopes of making it impossible for the mannequin to diaper him, but it was no use. It just proceeded as if dealing with a difficult child.

It just continued to change Steve, cooing softly, "Oh, you must be hungry, that's why you're so fussy. Don't worry. We'll get you something to fill your belly after this." Steve's eyes widened with terror. If they were willing to diaper them because they thought they were children, what would it try to feed them? Not only that, but these things are otherworldly, who knows what this food even was. His embarrassment deepened further as he realized the mannequin was treating him like a toddler in need of care.

With gentle efficiency, it removed Steve's shirt. He felt humiliated and helpless as it changed him and expertly fastened a fresh diaper around his waist. He tried to maintain his composure, but the situation was too surreal. He was a grown man being treated like a toddler, and there was nothing he could do about it. Then, he saw it grab a yellow duck onesie and a pair of tiny jean overalls, completing his transformation from a grown man to a toddler-like figure. 

As it finished diapering him, it smiled warmly. "There, now you're ready to play," it said cheerfully. "But first, let's get you that bottle" Before Steve could protest, it lifted him off of the changing table, and back into it's arms carrying him out of the room. Steve's mind raced with thoughts of escape, but his body was powerless against the mannequin's strength.

It brought him into the nursery across the hall from the changing room. The room was filled with colorful toys, soft blankets, and a row of cribs along one wall. The mannequin placed Steve in one of the cribs before moving to the mini fridge in the corner.

Steve watched in disbelief as the mannequin retrieved a bottle from the fridge and placed it in a bottle warmer. He couldn't believe this was happening to him. He was a grown man, trapped in a nightmare where he was being treated like a helpless child.

Steve's heart pounded as he watched the mannequin move about the nursery, his mind racing with desperation. He scanned the room frantically, searching for any sign of a way out, but all he saw were rows of cribs, the mini fridge in the corner, a sink, locked cabinets, and the imposing figure of the mannequin looming over him. There were no windows, other doors, or vents they could climb through. This room was a secure prison designed strictly for sleeping.

His eyes flicked to the bars of the crib, his stomach churning with frustration. The bars were far too high for him to be able to climb out. He could try to get up and out, but realistically he knew doing so now, would be pointless, the mannequin would catch him, after taking two steps, there was no way he could escape it. How could they possibly escape this nightmare? It seemed like every avenue was blocked, every attempt at resistance futile. He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms as he fought to keep his panic at bay.

The mannequin returned to his side, a warm bottle in its hand, a sickly sweet smell emanating from its contents. Steve recoiled instinctively, his throat constricting with revulsion. He had no idea what was in that bottle, but he knew he couldn't trust it.

The mannequin offered the bottle to Steve with a gentle smile. "Here you go, sweetie. Drink up. It's just warm milk," it cooed. 

Steve's eyes widen in worry. He was lactose intolerant, he can't drink milk, it messes with his stomach. He stood there staring at the mannequin, unsure of what to do. He didn't want to play this twisted game, but he was also trapped in a crib too tall to escape from. 

The mannequin's smile faltered slightly as it noticed Steve's hesitation. "Come on now, sweetie," it urged, its tone still gentle but with a hint of impatience. "Don't be difficult. You need to drink your milk like a good little boy."

Steve's mind raced as he weighed his options. Drinking the milk could have serious consequences for his digestive system, but defying the mannequin could lead to unknown punishments or further confinement. Trapped in the crib with no means of escape, he felt a sense of helplessness wash over him.

With a heavy heart, Steve reluctantly reached out for the bottle, his fingers trembling as he accepted it from the mannequin's grasp. The sickly, sweet smell assaulted his senses, making his stomach churn with unease. He glanced up at the mannequin, silently pleading for mercy, but its expression remained unmoved.

As Steve slowly brought the bottle to his lips, he hesitated again, his inner turmoil evident in his furrowed brow. The mannequin's patience wore thin, and with a firm yet gentle grip, it lifted him from the crib and settled him in its arms, cradling him against its rigid form.

Steve's heart pounded in his chest as he found himself ensnared in the mannequin's embrace, his muscles tense with apprehension. He wanted to resist, to fight against the unnatural force that held him captive, but he knew it was futile. He was at the mercy of the mannequin's whims, powerless to defy its will.

Settling into a rocking chair, the mannequin began to sway back and forth, its movements rhythmic and soothing. Steve's breath caught in his throat as he felt the bottle pressed against his lips, the warmth of the liquid seeping through the bottle's nipple.

With a sense of resignation, Steve reluctantly began to drink the milk. Each swallow was a struggle, his mind riveting at the thought of what it might do to his body. But the mannequin showed no signs of relenting, its grip unyielding as it forced him to consume the entire contents of the bottle.

Tears welled up in Steve's eyes as he fought against the urge to retch. He felt like a helpless child being fed against his will, stripped of his autonomy and dignity. But no matter how much he resisted, the mannequin's hold remained firm, its eerie presence casting a shadow over him.

As he sucked down the milk, the mannequin sat there, holding him. Staring into his eyes, lovingly watching him with a maternal gaze. "There, there, everything will be okay," she murmured, stroking his hair gently.

Steve continued to drink the milk, feeling defeated and helpless in the mannequin's arms. As he reluctantly finished the bottle, he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. The other mannequin from earlier, the one that took Ashley away, the darker and more menacing mannequin, entered the nursery, causing Steve's heart to race with fear.

Its presence was unnerving, its cold, lifeless eyes scanning the room. Steve couldn't help but feel a sense of dread as he realized Ashley was missing from its side. Its gaze lingered on Steve briefly, sending a shiver down his spine before it turned to the mannequin holding him.

"Elysia, the snacks for the kids are out," it stated in a gravelly voice, its tone devoid of warmth or emotion.

Elysia, the mannequin holding him, smiled warmly. "Thank you, Nyxara. This one has already had his bottle, so he might not eat much," she replied, motioning towards Steve.

Nyxara nodded silently before turning and leaving the nursery. Steve let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding, relieved that it had left without incident. The mannequin holding him then carried Steve downstairs to join the other "children."

As they descended the stairs, Steve's eyes widened in surprise as he saw Ashley, among others who had been transformed into childlike figures. She looked just as bewildered and frightened as he felt.