Daily Free-Write April 2, 2021: The Baby Factory Pt. 4

Continuation of March 16, 2021 “The Baby Factory Pt. 3”

I looked Chuck (a.k.a. Chubs), my cheeks red. He was wearing powder blue shortalls with an obvious diaper bulge just like myself, yet I was the one who felt self-conscious.

“You thought I was cute,” I said, trying to regain my composure in front of my new co-worker. “Well, I can’t say I’ve heard that word used about me very often. In fact – whoa there!”

I jumped as I was goosed by a checker, who had stuck his snoofer straight into the seat of my pants.

Chubs chuckled. “Oh, don’t worry. They do that. The checkers usually check by smell.”

The man in the pup hood let out a little woof and then moved on, padding away on all fours.

“Geez! A little warning woulda been nice!” I called out after him, not sure if he could even hear me through that hood.

“So yeah,” said Chubs, “we’re switched to communicate with each other, but other times we can’t really hear each other. Just the background noise, and anything the boss says.”

“That’s gotta make conversing hard,” I said, “and work pretty boring.”

Chubs shook his head. “Not at all! Working here is very enjoyable. For one, you get to enjoy the thrill of wearing diapers all day. Believe me, the time flies right by.”

I looked around and whispered. “You like it too?”

He laughed at that. “Boy, you don’t gotta whisper. Nobody can hear us, exceptin’ the supervisor. But yes, I like it too. I mean… just between you and me, there probably isn’t a single diapered employee who doesn’t drip with excitement as they go about their work. And the longer you work here, the more intense it becomes…”

“That’s, uh… very interesting,” I said, giving him a sidelong glance. “You sure do seem…enthusiastic about your job.”

Chuck smiled. “Sure am. As for conversatin’, it’s not safe to lose focus while working on or near the machines, unless you want to become one of the diapers. There’s plenty of time to socialize during lunch or in the dorms.”

“Has that ever happened?” I wondered aloud.

“What? Someone turned into a diaper? Funny enough, I think it might have,” he said with a grin. I couldn’t tell if he was joking, so I just brushed it off as a silly joke.

“Now I think I’ve talked your ear off about the virtues of the job long enough. It’s time I got to what Gareth wanted me to tell you. I’m supposed to show you the ropes!”

He proceeded to walk me around the area where I would be working. The 150-foot-long machine, was firing out diapers at rapid rate. A technician in a jumpsuit was keeping an eye on things, making adjustments, as necessary.

“That’s our technician for Adult Baby-Diaper Machine M. He makes sure everything runs smoothly during the dayshift. Obviously, he can’t stop to take a change unless he’s relieved by another technician, so his diaper is… well, I’m sure you can see for yourself.”

It was easy to tell that the technician was padded. His jumpsuit poofed out so big around the bottom that he looked like a pear.

“I thought the factory would be like in the cartoons where each person checks the diaper as it goes down the conveyor belt.”

Chubs laughed. “Do you realize how long that would take? No, no, most of what we do is the packing.”

He led me over to where employees were rapidly packing boxes filled with that day’s run of diapers – medium star blasters.

“We put the sealed diaper bags into boxes, which go onto pallets for the forklift operators. Then, every 1500 diapers or so we pull out a diaper for testing.”

“Testing. How do you do that?”

“Oh, we have some employees that do that full time. Every diaper we pull is inspected for quality by QC then tested on a real live person. That’s a diaper an hour for every machine, so the need to make a lot of piddles to test them all, and during all sorts of activities.”

I blushed as I imagined someone running around the factory while their got heavier and heavier. Chubs continued talking.

“So once the diapers are packed, and taken away, we don’t really have to worry about them. Mostly, us packers just have to make sure things keep moving.”

“What if we need… um… to go to the bathroom?”

“You mean if you need a change? We don’t have to think or worry about that. That’s the checkers and changer’s job, so don’t’ even think about it. And you already know what changers do. They’re our immediate supervisors and ours, Gareth, is especially talented. Judging by what I picked up on my headphones, he helped you fill your soggy diapers up with a whole lot of cream!”

I felt my face growing hot. “Aw, geez. Really? I d-don’t really remember it very well…”

“Well, I sure do. You must’ve broadcast that little episode to the whole dayshift. I know that the other fellas in our cell certainly got a rise out of it. Martinez practically destroyed his pamps rubbing them. I’ll have to introduce you after he comes back. In fact, Lunch should be any moment now, so maybe we’ll catch some of the others during our off time.”

A loud bell rang, and all work stopped.

“Speak of the devil,” I said, and we walked off toward the dining area.

The dining area had the look of a school cafeteria. There were rows and rows of tables, and a line of workers waiting their turn for lunch. I made my way toward the line of workers, but Chubs grabbed my shoulder.

“Oh no, that’s not for us.”

“What do you mean that’s not for us?”

“Grunts eat over there,” he said, pointing to a second set of doors, which I assumed just led to another cafeteria.

I shrugged and followed him through, but what I saw was a complete shock to me. Row after row of highchairs, some occupied, others sitting open waiting for their next occupant – presumably me. I gulped.