Warning: This story contains someone being treated like a baby, spanking and foul language. Don't like, don't read. The story is completely AU and it takes place in midst of season three and season four.
Chapter One: Lucas' New World
Lucas' P.O.V:
My eyes flicker open, but my vision is very blurry. I blink a few times but can still not make out where I am. All I can tell is that I am laying down somewhere. I go to move but realize that my legs are constricted to a very tight space and it's nearly impossible. I grunt and try to move, only to feel something odd on my bottom. I try to look below me but all I can see is something blue on me. It's covered my whole body and soon I realize they're footie pajamas, like the ones I used to wear when I was a child. What the hell? I look around and see bars around me. Am I in jail? I look up to find something odd. It's something plastic with little plush teddy bears and airplanes on it. Wait a minute. It takes me a few more seconds to realize where I am: a crib.
How the hell did I end up here?! I go to scream only to realize something is in my mouth. I look down and see a pacifier! What is going on? The last thing I remember I was leaving the school and suddenly, I felt weak. I went to sit down and the rest is a blur. I move around a bit and manage to sit up. I hear a soft crinkle as I do and realize I'm in a diaper. I try to wrap my hands around the bars of the crib, only to see I'm wearing some kind of weird mittens. They're not the kind with a hole for each finger, but cover my whole hand and make it impossible to grasp for things. I look around the room, petrified at the sight.
Across the room against the wall is a changing table, with diapers, lotions and various powders under it. By a window there's a dresser with teddy bear knobs. The closet has similar knobs and the carpet is plush blue. The walls match the carpet and have pictures of babyish themes. What the fuck is going on? I try to remove the pacifier but it's no use. I go to spit it out only to realize it's tied around my mouth. I look around the room once again and my eyes land on a mirror. The sight disturbs me beyond belief.
I'm in blue footie pajamas with little airplanes all over them. In my mouth is indeed a pacifier, a blue one with an airplane on the front. On top of my head is a blue baby bonnet, one tied under my chin in a big knot. My cheeks are puffed out from the pacifier and the mittens completely cover my hand. The only actual part of my body you can see is my face, my gray eyes filled with fear, my cheeks flushed. I still don't understand this. Am I dreaming? I have to be dreaming. Did I have a heart attack and now I'm stuck in some coma?
Suddenly the door opens and a tall mysterious man enters. For a split second I expect it to be Dan, but it isn't. This man is too tall, too muscular. He's got brown hair and green eyes, a big white grin on his face. He's wearing just a simple blue sweatshirt and jeans. He walks over to me and looks down at me, the grin not leaving his face for more than a second.
"Well, well, well," he coos tauntingly. "I see someone's awake." He reaches his big beefy arms to lift me up. I kick my legs and thrash my arms, but he isn't phased. He's very tall, probably reaching well over six and a half feet. He holds me as if he's cradling a baby, looking down into my eyes. I try to scream, but the pacifier muffles it. "Oh shhh, it's okay little one," he whispers. "It's quite okay." Little one? What the hell is going on?! The man carries me over to a rocking chair near the door and sits down, holding me closer to him, making sure I cannot get away. Still holding me with one hand, he removes my pacifier.
"What the fuck are you doing you sick asshole?!" I scream as soon as the nipple is out of my mouth. The man just shakes his head. "Now, is that anyway for a little baby to talk?" He asks me. "I'm not a baby!" I protest, only to have him stick the pacifier back into my mouth.
"Lucas," he says and my eyes widen, surprised that he knows my name. "My name is Darrel Branson. I am a journalist for a newspaper in a town near Tree Hill. I've heard your story. I know all about your father leaving you, but you rising above it to become one of Tree Hill's risisng basketball stars. However, I know that you are not the world's best guy." How does he know anything about me at all? How does he know about Dan and Nathan? I get the basketball thing, but how the rest of it? "I know how you've treated Brooke and Peyton, I've got connections down at Tree Hill High. You've broken Brooke's heart once again and you're stringing Peyton along. To be honest, you don't deserve either of them."
Okay who is this guy to tell me whether or not my girlfriend "deserves me". He doesn't even know me! This guy is just some stalker sicko! "But I want you to deserve a girl, a nice girl. I want you to be a nice guy. I care about you Luke, about your wellbeing. I want you to be deserving of a good life. Which is why I have taken you. My plan is to reprogram you into a charming, nice young man. But to start with that, we must start from the beginning. You will have me, your daddy to care for you."
This man is insane. He can't be serious! I'm a perfectly fine guy and I don't need a daddy. I never have. I had Keith for all of those years but I've been fine without him. I'll be fine without him. I am just fine! But before I can try to respond, Darrel continues. "You will be my baby boy. You will wear diapers and whatever I feel fits, you will be spoon fed and bottle fed, you will be bathed by Daddy and will play with toys that Daddy sees fit. For now, you will crawl or I will carry you. This will go on for a few months as I teach you to be a good little boy. You will be spanked if you misbehave and will get a soapy pacifier if you swear. You are to talk only as a baby until Daddy teaches you how to talk. I will decide when you grow up and I will decide when you do things. Once I have raised you into the man I know you can be, I will return you to your home. Until then, you are under my complete control. Don't you dare try to leave or you won't like the consequences." I lay there in his arms, feeling scared for the first time in a very long time. How can this man just decide all of this? How can he think he can get away with it? He can't can he? I bite my lip and suddenly feel my bladder release. Ever since I was little, when I was scared, I'd wet myself. Normally I have time to get to the bathroom, but here, locked in this strong beefy man's arms, I have no choice but to use this plastic crap. I feel the tears well up in my eyes out of humiliation. Darrel feels my diaper and smiles.
"You went wee wees? Okay. I think it's time you got changed anyway. It's morning time." He carries me over to the changing table and sets me down. He unbuttons the butt flap of my sleeper and soon takes that off. He takes off the diaper so I'm stark naked on the table. I feel the blood rush to my cheeks, but Darrel just smiles and shakes his head. He wipes me down and then adds some lotion my bottom. He slides a diaper under me and adds a lot of sweet smelling powder to my crotch and bottom. Once he's done, he tapes on the diaper. The whole time, I'm kicking my legs, so it takes longer than usual. Once he's done, I try to jump down, but he smacks my bottom so hard I shrink back. He sighs and kisses my temple, causing a weird sensation to go through me. "Daddy doesn't want to have to spank his little boy but you have to behave." He straps my ankles and wrists down to the table and goes over to the dresser. He pulls out an outfit and walks over to me. I can see it's a red t-shirt that reads "Daddy's Monster", red booties and a red bonnet. He puts the outfit onto me before putting a pacifier into my mouth. "It's warm outside so I don't think you need any pants. If the AC gets too chilly, Daddy will put something on you. He takes off the restraints and picks me up, holding me close to his chest. I look up into his eyes, only to see them looking kind. Maybe he does want to do some good, but there has to be some other way.
He carries me out of the room and down the stairs. I try to look around but it looks nothing more than a normal house. We go into the kitchen where a giant high chair sits in the center. He straps me into it, locking the tray in tight so I could not get away. Next he ties a blue and yellow bib around my neck that reads "One Messy Baby". He grabs a few jars from the cabinet and a spoon from a drawer. He walks over and takes out my pacifier. I don't dare to say a word as he uncaps one of the jars. He sticks the spoon into the jar and soon takes out a disgusting looking mush. "Open wide Lukey," he coos. I clamp my mouth shut. He lets out a sigh once he realizes I'm not about to give in. He sets the jar down and squeezes my cheeks together and pinching the bridge of my nose with his big hands. After a few minutes I gasp for air and he smiles, slipping in a spoonful of the mush. It tastes disgusting, I want to spit it out but before I can, more is being forced into my mouth. Soon I've eaten four jars of the garbage. Darrel then wipes my sticky mouth and picks me up. He grabs a bottle off the counter and sticks it in my mouth, I manage to push it out. Darrel sighs. "I don't want to have to put these on you everyday Lucas," he tells me as he takes red mittens from his pocket and puts them onto my hands. He sticks the bottle back in and forces me to drink it. It isn't regular milk, but something different, something with texture. Once he is done, he sets the bottle down and removes my bib. He places the bib over his shoulder and adjusts me so his hand is under my bum and my chin is on his shoulder. He slowly pats my back. "What are you…" I'm cut off when I let out a loud belch. I bite my lip and he chuckles, rubbing my back. "What a good baby." He returns me to cradle position.
"I don't think we need to keep the pacifier in at all times as long as you use proper baby talk buddy. Now, I don't want you stewing in your wees wees or poopies, so if you want to tell Daddy, you'll have to cry." No way in hell am I crying. I'll find a way to a bathroom when needed. He carries me into the den where a playpen sits in one corner, a swing sits in front of a huge T.V and thousands of baby toys are scattered about the room. He plops me down into the play pen, which is higher than my head and nearly impossible to get out of. He puts some toys inside and pinches my cheeks. "Play my good boy. Daddy has some work to do." He turns on the T.V which is already tuned to an episode of the Wiggles before walking out. I sit there for a minute, staring at the toys in front of me, confused on what to do. I try to stand up, only to realize the booties have no grip. I nearly fall but grab onto a monitor in the playpen. I suddenly lose my grip and fall back, hitting my head against the side of the playpen. The pain surges through me and the tears spring to my eyes, soon a wail escaping my lips.
