The building was rather average looking. A normal private school full of normal students who took normal classes with normal teachers and lived a positively normal lifestyle. If that is what you expect this story to be about, and nothing more, I suggest you get the fuck out of here.
It was six fifty-eight. The large clock on the wall said so. Morning light glowed around the perimeter of closed curtains, casting striped rays of light on the tiled floor. In this particular room, six large cribs, each the size of a twin bed, rest against the east wall, each of them spaced five and a half feet exactly. On the opposite side of the room, directly parallel to each crib was a changing table. This too, was large enough to fit an adult. The shelves underneath each table were fully stocked with baby wipes, talcum powder, oil, rash cream, latex gloves and diapers, usually decorated with a character from Sesame Street or some other juvenile media.
Six fifty-nine. The room was dead silent. Each crib contained a single body. Boys: varying from the ages of fifteen to twenty. Each of them dressed in a footed sleeper, cuddling some sort of stuffed creature, and most of them sucking on pacifiers, all in a variety of colors.
Seven o'clock. A door creaked open on the north side of the room and the echoing click-clack of heels from a dozen or so nurses broke the silence. Like a practiced army, six took their stations at changing tables their faces void of expression. Not that they didn't enjoy their job, but it was early. Each was dressed in a white dress with black shoes, their hair tied up in tight buns. They wore no jewelry, though makeup was permitted, as long as it wasn't too flashy. The other half of the nurses walked towards the cribs. A couple took the liberty of opening the curtains. The day had begun.
"Kurtie? Kurtie-Pie? It's time to wake up, baby." A nurse named Julie cooed to him. She leaned over the bar and rubbed the young boy's tummy. He was pale, his skin like the creamy smooth formula that the nurses fed them every night before beddy-bye. His hair was mussed, in it's bed-head state and was a soft, perfect chestnut. The blue and white pacifier bobbed up and down in his mouth, while his arms remained tightly wrapped around a stuffed white kitty.
Kurt Hummel, or "Kurtie-Pie" was a favorite among the nurses. Not only was he cute, especially his big blue eyes that grew whenever he wanted something, but he was also the resident fashionista. Unlike the other babies, Kurt's wardrobe mattered. If his paci didn't match his romper, you could forget about it. There was no getting a fashion faux pas past the little tyke. "The little tyke" of course, was about seventeen years old, and well aware of the fact. Yes, just like every other "baby" in this facility, Kurt had received a full education. He could read and write, though picture books and finger paints were preferred. He knew algebra, history, biology, French, and much more. Not that he ever used it. Here, there was no using big words, or trivial conquests. The most intellectual conversations amongst these students were over crayons. In fact, they were encouraged to act as little as possible. Instead of saying I would like to be picked up and cuddled, if you don't mind, or I'm rather thirsty, could I please indulge in a beverage? It was uppy! And baba! Get it?
No, I can guarantee that this isn't some strange dystopian world where everyone is raised as a baby. In fact, there were plenty of more options. Starting at the age of five, Kindergarten age, all kids were enrolled in a normal school. At the age of eleven, each student took an exam to determine their role in life. Dominant, or submissive. Other tests were also given, to supply information on preferred lifestyles. These exams were extremely important, for it determined the rest of their lives. Once they turned twelve, the Doms were sent to different schools where they learned about their specific lifestyle while continuing their basic education. A schedule in a BDSM school might have looked like: Algebra, Bondage, Biology, Lunch, Punishment. An Infantilism school may have been along the lines of: Spanish, Mommy/Daddy 101, Lunch, U.S. History, Buying for a Baby. In sub schools, each student was trained to be the perfect sub. Younger students took classes like Dealing with Diapers: Unpotty training, or Perfect Pet 101. Older students learned much more about the sexual aspects of being a sub, though Infantilism students were never taught about what sex even is, eager to preserve their innocence.
Julie rubbed his flat tummy, grinning as heavy lids lifted to reveal bleary blue eyes. "There we go, baby. Are you ready for a diapey change?" She cooed.
Kurt didn't reply, but obediently sat up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes before opening his arms up to her, just like he had done every morning for the past five years. He kept his pacifier in his mouth, sucking on it contently as Julie scooped him up into her strong arms (not that he weighed very much at all) and rested him on her hip.
"Look at that!" She crooned, her arm under Kurt's bottom. "Somebody made big weewees last night!"
Kurt didn't reply. He didn't know that any other teenager would have been mortified if a pretty girl like Julie commented on the state of their diaper. This was just the norm. Nobody had ever told him he was supposed to be embarrassed.
Was there prejudice? Of course. What society doesn't? There was always a group who thought they were superior. Hell, twice this year, some Doms from the BDSM school had gotten in trouble for mocking some scared and extremely confused kids while they were outside on the playground. All they could do was deal with problems that came their way. Some groups, like pets and slaves got along greatly, while others, like masochists and babies did not.
Julie gave him a peck on the cheek and carried him over to the changing table across from his crib, where Mariana stood waiting for him, a box of wipes and a Cookie Monster themed diaper in her hand. Like all of the other nurses and their charges, Julie cooed to Kurt as she unzipped his sleeper and removed it completely. She went over to Kurt's dresser and picked him out a white romper with a sailor's collar for the day, along with some socks and Velcro sandles. She waited while Kurt's bottom was cleaned and a diaper was taped onto him before dressing him and picking him up again to carry into the dining hall.
Each room housed six students. Boys in the east wing, girls in the left. They also sat together, in a group of six highchairs. Kurt casually waited while Julie buckled him into his and snapped his bib on around his neck, looking out across the dining hall. It was the usual again today. The girls on the other side of the hall in their pink and yellow baby doll dresses and cute little pigtails tied up with ribbon. The squirmy first years, who were still adapting to this new lifestyle, and the nurses. Everywhere running around. Fetching food and bibs and washcloths and trying to prevent impatient tears. It was no easy job. In fact, a lot of nurses, male and female, were either retired mommies and daddies, or they were parents in training, working there in order to earn credit towards classes and get hands on experience. Suddenly, something caught his eye. A man. Not a nurse, a real live man wearing jeans and a sharp blue blazer, which was probably what caught Kurt's attention in the first place. He was surprised. He had never seen any normal grownup other than his own Dad, or the mean Doms from the BDSM school, but even they looked rather scary with their chains and leather. He didn't like that. The man lifted his head and made eye contact with Kurt, who was stunned when his blazing hazel eyes reached down inside of him. The man was beautiful. Who was he? He was standing next to the head Daddy, the dean of the school, but all they were doing was talking. This man was no baby. Kurt noticed the man grin, as if he was looking at something amusing and Kurt realized that he was staring openly in amazement, his binky hanging out of his mouth. Kurt felt his face grow hot, though he wasn't sure why and he shyly hid his face behind his hands. When he peeked through his fingers, he was surprised to see the man doing the same thing, grinning happily. Kurt quickly shut them again, his face growing red. Thankfully, Julie returned with his breakfast, and the man walked away as he started to be fed.