Cloth Diapers & Panties

Part 10 I was fascinated by Terry’s eagerness to get his pants off. He was quite correct about his disposable not lasting for much longer as his suddenly visibly ample crotch revealed a very scrunched-up, dirty and much maligned piece of disintegrating material. “Christ Terry, what the hell have you been up to?” I asked incredulously at the messy sight. He looked at me as if I was stupid. “I’m sixteen, what do you thing I’ve been doing?” I did feel stupid because, although I’d had fun in a nappy, that hadn’t been my main reason for wearing one. I wondered if that was all he wanted to wear one for and if so...? “Oh yer... sorry... of course... um...” It looked like the poor saggy thing had suffered more than a few hours of nonstop abuse. He grabbed one of the fleecy fabric nappies and with some degree of affection ran his hand over the soft material. There was that gentle sigh again and then he offered it to me. Once I had it in my hand he began to shuffle down that disgusting piece of fabric and stood naked in anticipation. It was weird that I should have felt sorry for an inanimate object but, that poor disposable must have had a torrid time. Terry appeared to have no shame just a wish to get on with things. “Look,” he shrugged, “you’re going to have to put it on me because I’m not sure I’ll get it right.” He looked embarrassed by his request but the fact was, a fabric nappy did take skill in the first instance. “I don’t want to do it wrong and have it falling down every time I move.” This was a considered approach from my best mate. Obviously, his past attempts at wearing a makeshift nappy had been unsuccessful and was relying on me to make it work properly for him – me being a professional in this area. This was Terry taking command of the situation but still all he wanted was to wear a nappy. He was being bossy but patiently eyeing a huge piece of fabric that once applied would reduce him to either looking like a pants-wetter or a huge baby. I wasn’t even sure why he wanted to try a fabric nappy with all the work and pins involved in getting it ready. Yet, it seemed Terry was eager to try and raring to go. Since he’d mentioned his desire to wear a nappy, and after our discussion before, the fact he was here and enthusiastic shouldn’t have come as a surprise and yet it had - this was after all Terry. There was absolutely no way I would have imagined we’d be at this point with his naked body and copious dangly bits waving about in front of me. As I say, in gym or games at school I’ve seen him (as well as all the other boys in class) naked so that wasn’t a surprise but what we were about to do was... and... I got a little nervous about this giant step. He wasn’t on drugs (well at least I didn’t think so) but this was going to take our friendship to a completely different level, well that’s how I saw it. # “What time do you think your mum and dad’ll be back?” “Well, dad’s at work so won’t be home until around seven and mum said she’d be out for lunch so don’t expect her to be back until around two or three-ish.” “Fantastic, that gives us quite a bit of time. C’mon let’s get started.” He seemed impatient to get going. “You’re ready, mind you, I s’pose you’re always ready.” He smirked at the fact my nappy was struggling under my plastic pants but... I s’pose he was correct. “OK, lie out,” it was time to get this operation underway. Of course I’d been changing my own nappy for quite some time but I still loved it when mum stepped up and did it for me as it always felt different, more secure. At the same time I wondered if halfway through he’d suddenly get cold feet and hurry off home but, well, for the moment, he was down on the makeshift changing mat and ready for me to do my best at nappying him. A shiver ran through my body as I took in the sight. Here was my best friend, who in many ways I looked up to, naked as the day he was born and waiting, to what was basically, to be babied. He wasn’t incontinent and as far as I knew wasn’t planning on being so and yet he wanted a thick, fabric nappy surrounding his more than ample private parts, which at that moment were hardly private. Whereas, I now had no pubic hair, his was like a large, tangled forest and I wondered if he’d eventually shave it off or if that would be a step too far. Once he was laid out in front of me the cocky and ‘in charge’ Terry I’d always known seemed to fade away. There was a toy car on the floor, which he picked up and held in fascination, whilst I pulled the other aspects of wearing a nappy together – cream, powder, linings, soaker pads and pins. His facial expression changed and he became absorbed in the toy he was inspecting. This was exactly like he was when sucking on that FruitiZucker and we acted like big kids. It was as if, now it was happening, he could let Terry the teen go and slip into being Terry the toddler. I couldn’t avoid thinking that those drugged dummies might still be having some residual effect on us because, although I was approaching my naked buddy seriously, there were a few giggles just below the surface. This was a serene moment in my life and one I just couldn’t have imagined, under normal circumstances, ever happening and yet... However, since the phone call that got him here it had all been such a rush that I hadn’t had time to clean myself up. So, I was crouching down and folding the fabric whilst the wet material of my own night time sogginess rubbed at my sensitive parts. I ran my hands briefly over my plastic pants and strangely that calmed me but brought another thought into my head. I paused because I really wasn’t sure what I was doing was right. I mean, I had a reason to wear protection but Terry just wanted to for, I assumed, the fun of wearing one. The thing was, at that moment all I could see was my naked best mate who, for his own reasons, was desperate to wear a nappy. So, despite my doubts, who was I to say no. # I treated Terry exactly the same way I’d take care of myself in that I cleaned the area first. I had some wet wipes nearby so started with them, he giggled at their coolness as I wiped around and over his imposing cock and balls. It wasn’t a procedure that I needed to drag out and although we were both giggling I was still a little embarrassed, so grabbed for the cream, rubbed it in and showered the area with talc. I mentioned that he would probably need to get rid of his pubes if he was serious but that was met by a simple chuckle. The huge puff of powder brought on a bit of coughing as some of the cloud went into his nose and throat. Once his spluttering had stopped I was able to grab the corners of the fabric, making sure it was loaded with both an extra soaker pad and nappy liner and drag them together and held them securely with a couple of large safety pins.   The reality of what we were doing lodged in my head with each little piece of action. The material of the nappy was soft and fleecy and there was that sigh again as I’d wrapped it around and pinned it into place. He liked the plastic duck safety pin feature and was eager and helpful when I flapped out a pair of shiny baby blue plastic pants and eased them up his legs. He wriggled giggling as they slipped over the bulky padding and smoothed into place. I can’t quite explain how incredible he looked, the transformation, well, not exactly into a tot but to a muscular teenager wearing padding, it was simply an amazing sight. I remembered I still had a pale blue onesie so went and grabbed that from the wardrobe, Terry hadn’t moved. He waited until I returned and I pulled him to his feet and told him, “hands up”, which he did and I was able to shimmy it down his torso. Remarkably it fit him tightly but looked great so clicked the press-studs between his legs together and that held his cumbersome protection in place. “There.” I stood back to admire my work and caught him checking himself out in the mirror. Then he did something quite spontaneous – he hugged me in a way that we’ve never interacted before. I mean we’ve hugged before but this was more of a cuddle... if you see the difference... and it was a wonderful experience. There was a weird, yet grateful, intensity that I’d previously never encountered. A warmth and appreciation that held me tightly for longer than I expected – it felt really good. Another sigh escaped him as we held each other and perhaps unsurprisingly, we were both patting each other’s padded bottoms as if in reassurance. Whether that was of comfort, support or thanks I wasn’t sure but it felt real and at that moment I don’t think I’d ever felt closer to anyone. # Terry looked splendid. I know, I know, a sixteen year old, in a nappy and onesie, who am I kidding but to me, there was just something about it all that ‘clicked’ and everything made sense. However, I’d been wearing my wet night time nappy for far too long and it was beginning to itch a little.   “Look, let me get some toys out for you to play with... and then I’ll change myself as this wet stuff is getting a bit much.” I indicated my very droopy padding. His face beamed when I opened the toy chest, which had been sat in the corner since our last ‘drug fuelled’ playtime. As he set about searching for something to occupy his time I checked the time, it was after ten and reckoned we’d have, to be on the safe side, at most three hours before mum might return home. So I quickly stripped out of my stuff, rushed to the bathroom and wiped myself down with a warm soaked flannel and returned drying myself with a towel. I was quite unprepared to see that Terry had laid out a very childish print disposable and a pair of thick pink plastic pants with cats chasing a ball of wool all over them. I’d forgotten I had that particular design but was unexpectedly delighted to see it again. He’d also set about getting my old Scalextric set fitted together and was running tracks in a figure eight. “You want me to wear these?” I needlessly asked. He cheerfully shrugged and continued building the race track. “I wish we had one of those dummies,” he mumbled as he worked putting pieces together. “Yer, maybe, but... I don’t have any and I’m not sure they were good for us.” “Hmmmm,” he replied but didn’t take his thoughts any further. He barely looked in my direction as I applied the various creams and powder before wrapping myself in the rather cute disposable and taping myself tightly in. I then climbed into the pink plastic pants he’d got ready for me and felt the smoothness slip up my thighs which give me the tingle I got every time I wore a fresh nappy. I think it had something to do with the way the slippery material pulled the entire thing together in that strangely comforting hug. Or it could be the fact that the pink plastic pants had broad waist and leg bands which gripped tightly, encasing everything in pretty securely. The stretched plastic seemed extra glossy under the sunlight coming in through the window. # We hadn’t known it at the time but on the last occasion we’d done this we were as high as kites on our FruitiZuckers so behaving childishly had come as a result of that rather strange but liberating experience. Just why it had affected us in such a manner we didn’t know but mum said we were really deep into toddlerhood. She’d admitted to both dad and me that she found the entire scenario strange but sweet and unbelievably engaging, not having seen either of us so happy for quite some time. Apparently, our inhibitions were down and all we thought about was playing and having fun, and for some reason, best known to herself, she didn’t want to spoil the moment, even though she probably knew something was not quite right. However, this was now and we were about to recreate that moment but without the help of drugs (or dummies). Then again, this was Terry’s idea and although we looked the part we weren’t already in that particular zone for play, or at least, at that moment I didn’t think we were. Terry was shuffling around on hands and knees and definitely looking more toddler than teen. It occurred to me that what would have made this moment even better, was to be sucking on a dummy... now I saw what he had been getting at... the complete experience. I watched as he clicked the last few pieces of track into position. He was shuffling around my room and I have to say, even without a dummy, he looked every inch like a big kid. Indeed, as a recreation of the last time, apart from that lack of dummies, we both assumed the roles of toddlers one and two. I scrambled to plug in the electricity supply and pulled out the box of race cars and asked which he wanted. “Red” I had another three cars available and decided on a blue one, slipped them both onto the track and then handed him a controller. We could have done this any time, on any day and had the privacy of my bedroom to play Scalextric which we hadn’t done for several years (I just hoped it would all still work). After all we were growing up and didn’t need toys. But why then were we dressed as kids... and then it hit me, or so I thought... once again, maybe this was Terry’s weird way of being supportive to the fact I had to wear a nappy and this was one way he could offer that support. But then, although that reasoning made a little bit of sense, it didn’t explain his desire for wearing a nappy or playing with kid’s toys. I wasn’t sure how to bring up my obvious concerns because, surprise, surprise, he pressed the controller and his car zoomed off at great speed. That took my mind off any other thoughts and pressing hard on my own controller saw my blue car zip around the first corner. His came off at the second bend and he scrambled around on hands and knees to put it back on track. I zoomed into the lead. I was concentrating on not losing momentum when mine spun off so I rushed to put it back. The noise of our plastic pants as we scurried around matching the noise of our racing cars as they careered around the circuit. “First to 20 laps” Terry shouted excitedly. There was no denying it we were both deep in concentration but enjoying the exhilaration of the race. # The race kept getting longer—40, 60, even 100 laps—and with every increase in speed, our cars flew off the track more often as our competitive excitement grew. We scrambled to pick them up, and since we were both wearing nappies, anyone watching (though there wasn’t anyone) might have observed we looked like two overgrown, carefree kids just enjoying ourselves. We made screeching car noises, shouted encouragement, and playfully teased each other when a car wouldn’t start right away, but it was all in good fun—just two close friends trying to provoke laughter, like always. For context, we spoke more like teenagers than little kids, though some of the terms we used were definitely on the ‘childish’ side. I s’pose to any onlooker it was amazing how quick and easily we slipped into being kids again; not least because of the way we were dressed. Perhaps wearing a nappy was the spur, the catalyst, to the way our brains just seemed to accept that being a toddler was the way to be. I can’t express it any other way, despite knowing, and seeing, we were both sixteen year olds, there was another part that simply said, ‘relax, it’s not important, enjoy the situation’. I had to wear protection, Terry chose to wear protection, whatever was going on, in those moments, I was too deep into the competition to ponder too much on it. We giggled, complained, swapped cars, called each other cheats but both of us wished the track was much larger that went all around the room. Alas it was really just a figure eight but we still screeched in delight as our cars hurtled around the circuit. I’m not sure but maybe because we were wearing nappies it seemed more fun but for the life of me I couldn’t tell you why. We were definitely in the ‘zone’, our enjoyment of the situation was obvious and I have to say... it felt incredible. When we got bored of racing cars Terry raided my old toy box and found many old stuffed animals there and pulled them all out. He asked their names and like had happened before I was surprised just how strongly the memories came flooding back. Halfway through naming them I could see how intensely my best mate was following what I said because there were several ‘awes’ and ‘ahs’ as I mentioned how old they were and what they meant to me. Suddenly, I snapped out of being a toddler and back to being a teenager and couldn’t believe that Terry remained a big kid. He’d showed no signs of acting a part, or perhaps as I thought, dressing for my benefit to make me feel more at ease wearing padding. No, he was lost in whatever toddlerdom he’d invented for himself. It was both weird and pleasing because he looked so content. I nudged him, “How’s the nappy?” He just rubbed the front of his bulging onesie and beamed, “Nice”. Once again I began to wonder why it was so easy to slip back to being a nappy-wearing tot; was this really sixteen year old Terry Jackson, was I really John Benedict teenager at large? How come wearing a nappy felt so right? # However, when I was thinking as a teenager the mind-slips between sixteen and toddler began to hang heavy. Again I wondered if the drugs in those FruitiZuckers had fired a deep seated need or had actually changed our mental state? If so, was this a permanent change or temporary and why, of all people, had it affected Terry so easily? I wondered if he could switch back to being a teenager once playtime was over. Would he want it to be over? These grown-up thoughts had temporarily invaded my head but then one look at my best mate, seeing how gloriously happy he appeared and I was swept back into being (and playing) like a toddler once more. Having said all that - did it apply to me - because once I started getting all those items to review I’d given into wearing a nappy (and everything else) very easily. This had been a recurring thought in recent days but was now hanging heavy like every other thought that entered my head. Had it been a steady trickle of mental manipulation that had altered my brain? I had baulked at dad wanting to get rid of everything and despite myself had clung desperately to my range of nappies and disposables. I simply wasn’t prepared to let them all go and I wasn’t sure it was because I knew I needed them. I’d convinced myself that was the case but what if... what if... I’d somehow been programmed in another way to accept that wearing a nappy and kiddie clothes was for me. What if this is all I can expect from now on? These worrying thoughts made me shiver but amazingly just as quickly they faded as I immersed myself in yet another round of ‘plushies versus dinosaurs’ with Terry. Terry was loving being a big kid. It didn’t seem like he was playing a part, he was just playing. I mean, despite him wearing a onesie over his nappy, I could tell that he’d wet it but he hadn’t stopped and hadn’t acknowledged that’s what had happened. The thing was, when my mind let me, I was having fun acting the kid. However, more and more were these other thoughts suddenly breaking into the fun making me think differently – so, what the hell was going on? Terry’s interest in wanting to wear a nappy had been a surprise. Even after he knew I wore one his curiosity seemed non-existent though thankfully he kept the knowledge about me to himself. I knew the drugged dummy was the reason he’d wore one that first time but today... what was going on inside his head? Dressed as he was now, playing and being a kid, he looked completely detached from being Terry the self-assured teen I knew. One of the things that did happen, and I liked quite a lot, was the affection he showed. We hugged and patted each other’s padded bottoms with remarkable regularity and snuggled closer together when playing some games. It never got sexual, or if it did, it certainly didn’t feel that way. It was like we were back to being innocent little kids who were the bestest of friends... like we were. # Terry’s nappy was wet and I could feel the warming glow in mine, a quick glance at the clock read 13:24, and to be on the safe side, I thought it was probably time to start winding things up. For me it wouldn’t have been a problem but knew Terry didn’t want anyone to know about any of this. “I think we better start changing back to....” I hinted at the clock on my bedside table. “Oh, no, no, pwease... just a few more minutes...” He pouted hopefully but in such a cute childish way that sent yet another tingle up my spine. For a second I thought he’d ‘gone’, you know, become a toddler, I just wasn’t sure any more. “Erm, I don’t know how soon mum will be home... umm, you don’t want her seeing you like this do you?” I could see tears begin to form and suddenly wondered if there might be a tantrum brewing but no, no tears fell he just looked so unhappy. I put my arm around him and he hugged me back. Again we patted each other’s wet bulges, the soft plastic crinkle reminding us we had that extra layer of protection. “Look, you’ve wet your nappy so, do you want to change back?” Then I remembered he’d arrived in a rather tatty disposable under his jeans, so would need a replacement. “Can you change yourself or would you rather I do it?” He nodded, so for the second time I cleaned him up; oiled, powdered and slipped him into a very cosy, animal print disposable. He loved the swish and rustle as the disposable was fixed. In fact, he asked me to slow down, as if he was savouring each moment. He sighed that sigh that I’d come to recognise as his way of feeling content, as I slowly slid the pair of slinky plastic pants up his legs and over the padding – he was squirming in happiness. Once that was complete and he’d checked himself out in the mirror I passed him his jeans and added I was going off to change as I felt a bit waterlogged myself. “Do you want me to have a go?” Was not a question I expected, nor was I certain he was serious. “Er, no, it’s OK I’ll sort myself out...” I saw him shrug. “Unless you really want to?” I shrugged back. “Well Johnny, it’s been one of those days hasn’t it and I feel I owe you for all you’ve done for me... and besides... I need to learn if I want to wear more often.” Despite the knowledge that under his jeans he was wearing a rather thick and nicely tight-fitting disposable you wouldn’t have known that just minutes earlier he was playing at being a big kid. It was an incredible but immediate shift and he was back to being his usual, in charge, self. “So, this isn’t a one off then? You plan on more nappy days.” I tested light-heartedly. He took in a deep breath and nodded as he indicated the empty changing mat. “Lie out whilst I flick through some of these disposables and see which I think would suit you best...” I could hear him humming to himself as once again he sorted through the piles of stuff I had on the dresser top. I lay back; I could feel the nappy sag under the weight and knew he was in for a surprise. My morning liquid intake had blended into a very colourful stain and hefty mass that I knew would be an interesting departure for him seeing as he’d not had to deal with such a thing before. Or so I assumed. “OK,” he said waving a pair of baby blue plastic pants with kittens running around in one hand and a rather thick baby blue disposable. “These will just look perfect on you. So, let’s get sorted shall we?” I took a deep breath and I think so did he. “Right, let’s get your adorable pink plastic pants down first and then I can see the damage.” I lay flat out and let him get on with it as all the other equipment needed was already within arm’s reach. # Before he started he ran his hands over his padded jeans and smiled at the slight bulge that he was wearing. He then ran his hand over my significant shiny bulge and smiled the most pleasing of smiles before adding. “I don’t know how often I want to do this but I have to say that wearing a nappy makes me feel... happy I s’pose.” Then he got down to business and pulled off my pink plastic pants to be confronted by, “But of course, the down side to that feeling is this.” And he ran his hand over my lumpy, well-soaked disposable and sniffed at the slight urine odour coming off. “Uuurggghhh,” he shivered. “If you can’t deal with that,” I mumbled as I also ran my hand over the now cumbersome material, “then perhaps it’s not for you.” “Well, let’s see shall we...” and tugged everything off exposing my rather damp groin. “In a nappy or out... and with no pubes... you definitely look like a little kid.” He joked as he pointed to my clammy and shrunken manhood. Despite the fact we giggled a bit as he started the procedure I was quite taken with just how serious he took the job. He was precise and checked in if he was uncertain but in general did a good job. The thing was, as I watched him I began to wonder at how he was able to switch so quickly and seamlessly from being a tot back to being himself. Was I able to do that? Was I already doing that? There were some gaps in my memory as to just how I reacted to my surroundings. “Ermm,” I ventured, “how often do you think you’ll want to do this?” “What, wipe you sweet little cock?” He chuckled. “No, no, you know... wear a nappy or act like a little kid. I mean...” I stumbled quickly to a halt in my interrogation as he pulled the fresh disposable tightly up between my legs. He saw me flinch and grimaced a sort of ‘sorry’ look but carried on. “I have no idea but, since the first time whilst sucking on that dummy...well... I don’t know, there was something about the situation that just sort of connected. I mean...” he paused as if really trying to put a reason in place that he could understand himself. “Whatever happened at that time has just stuck with me as being something I wanted to visit again and again. I’ve tried to reason the thing out, explain it to myself but all that happens is my head becomes full of nappies, plastic pants and such nonsense yet it starts a craving that I’ve had to indulge.” He shrugged as if he couldn’t quite comprehend the circumstances himself. “Thanks to you, and your needs, I have someone I can share that with, even if it is for different purposes.” “Do you blame me for that?” I sighed feeling perhaps it was all my fault “No, not really because, well, you’ve been open about what you need and what you’ve been getting out of all this ‘baby stuff’.” I nearly baulked at that term wondering if he saw something else that maybe I hadn’t been aware of but he added. “You need it to contain your weak bladder or whatever, I think I need it as a route to some previously undiscovered... erm... desire.” There was the hint of a smile, “I think I find the idea exciting, maybe even dangerous but don’t know why it still appeals to me.” Then he added as an afterthought, “Maybe I’m just kinky?”   We spoke on the subject further and Terry seemed quite content that he was at the start of something he had no idea where it might lead. Even the thought of his mother finding out was a worry he said he’d cope, “If and when the time came”. I had to keep telling myself that this was Terry – TERRY – someone I’d known for ages, but this just wasn’t the person I knew, except for that determination I recognised from many projects and games we’d started together. Whatever drugs had been in those FruitiZuckers had they affected him more than... erm... but then, that was something I only assumed because I had no idea how many others (or even if there were others) who were given those calming and baby-retro treats. He said that he hoped I’d need nappies for ages yet so he had a mate to explore things with but realised that was being selfish. I didn’t say anything, just smiled, but I’d been wearing nappies now for some time and I’d always felt like I was the only sixteen year old who had to wear them. Now there was someone else, I wasn’t alone and perhaps, well, I just hoped for better things. Unfortunately, with the police involved, the entire thing, like my morning nappy, was a mess. Anyway, to help him sort out just what it was he thought he needed I let him go home with a few fabric nappies plus a couple of pairs of plastic pants just minutes before mum arrived home in a taxi. The timing couldn’t have been better because she would have no idea what had taken place as the evidence was now in a used nappy bin. However, it felt strange having Terry’s secret but one I was determined to keep. “Hi mum, had a good lunch?” I wandered into the kitchen and pecked her on the cheek. She smiled and slyly patted my padded bum before adding something to the kitchen diary on the wall calendar. I looked at what she’d just written and noticed that I had an appointment with ‘Laura’ in a couple of days’ time. It appeared to be on the same day I got my exam results. “Yes love, thank you, we had a lovely meal... we caught up and of course we chatted a lot about...” she looked cheekily at me and then cast her eyes down to my bulging nappy-revealing crotch, and I was carrying Terry’s wet fabric nappy to the washing machine, “guess who?” # tbc #

Currently in a Camelot. A bit wet at the moment, as I go through my budget template and see if I can fix all the little things that are driving me crazy. I had another Camelots on last night. I only wet that one a little bit, but made a sizeable mess in it.  Surprisingly, not as bad as I would have thought, though I had to break up the resulting dookie when I dropped it in the toilet while changing into a Detective Marty for church. As for that Detective Marty, wore that through church, bible study, and sleepy time. I'll either change into my big boy pants, or maybe a reasonable facsimile. I have the super for my building coming by in the morning with a new mattress for my bed. (The apartment is furnished and I've had the same mattress for 10 years. Nice arrangement, but very little comes with me when if I move out of here.)

THE TRANSFER STUDENT - By Andrea Neko. Part I Holly Shao was never, ever mistaken for beautiful. She did get a lot of calls for being cute, though. At 5'2", she wasn’t a tall woman by any stretch of the imagination, and her 100-lb. body was light enough not to give her frame much definition. This had always tended to not grant her much of a love life, as men wanted women that couldn’t double as teenage daughters in appearance; when Holly was in the buff, she looked just like a fifteen-year-old girl. Her slim Chinese frame made her appear even younger. It was not something that she liked to dwell on often. But she was now a teacher; her certification was just about to be sent by the head office. She had already gotten a new job at a very strict private school; she was told that one of her new assignments was to take a new transfer student from Japan into her home in order to build a rapport with a new student. She would meet her new charge at the school, who was coming straight from the airport. Holly’s first day would be one day before her new transfer student’s, and she was as eager as ever to be there. After her morning shower, Holly pulled on a matching silk bra and panty set before pulling on her smart pink skirtsuit. The skirt was a little long for today’s fashions, going down to her knees, but she wanted to make a good impression. Turning around so her butt faced the wall mirror, she frowned a bit at the line of her panties, clearly visible through the skirt, but decided it didn't matter. The trip to the school was short. She felt a little nervous as she had never physically met any of the faculty or staff, but had been found through one of the school’s many national scouts. As she pulled into the driveway, she stepped out of the car and was immediately flagged down by one of the students sitting on the curb. Walking up to her was an attractive young white girl of maybe eighteen. She had long, honey blonde hair, a slim, athletic frame and a firm bust. She wore the standard school uniform: navy blue pleated skirt, dark green jumper and short-sleeved white blouse. The girl had a pink ribbon tied expertly in her hair, forming a ponytail. Next to her were two large suitcases. The teen assertively thrust out her hand towards Holly. "Heya. You Holly Shao?" Surprised, Holly took a step back. This girl was invading her personal space. "Y-yes, I...I’m her," she stammered, slightly intimidated by the young woman. "I’m Emiko Minan. Yeah, yeah, I’m not Japanese. I was born on an army base in Okinawa. My parents figured it’d be easier for me to fit in if I had a Japanese name, so let’s move on, shall we? That your car over there?" Holly nodded. Emiko’s confidence had gotten the better of her and she found herself scampering behind the taller girl, her heels clicking as she walked. Emiko’s worn sneakers made it easier for her to walk quickly. Holly fumbled for her keys and dropped them to the ground. Emiko giggled. "Here, let me take those," she offered, picking up the keys and unlocking the trunk. "Thanks," Holly managed. "Sorry if I’m so nervous. It’s my first day too. You have all my personal information? Address, phone number, and such? Good. I don’t know anyone here at all and, when I was told you’d be living with me...." "Really?" Emiko was quite interested. "No one at the school knows you at all?" She tossed the luggage into the trunk and shut it. "How’d you get this job?" Holly explained. Emiko listened to her very intently. "Wow, they must have really liked you." "I just wish I knew people a little better," Holly sighed. "I mean, how am I supposed to connect to the students if I suddenly swoop in as a new teacher without any clue as to what these kids are like?" Emiko pursed her lips. There was a long silence between them before the white girl’s sharp blue eyes lit up. "I got the perfect idea! Look, I’m not even supposed to be here for another day. Why don’t we switch outfits and you pretend to be a student for a day?" Holly was shocked. "What! I’m no student!" Shaking her blonde mane, Emiko held up her hands and waved that off. "No no, silly. I mean we go to the principal and, say, tell him that you want to get a feel for the place. You were just planning on doing some introduction stuff today, right?" Holly looked into the backseat of the car. Her lesson plans were relatively simple for the first day. Emiko continued on, her voice growing in excitement. "I’ll just pretend to be you for a day and that’ll give you tons of time to make some friends. C’mon, it’ll be fun!" Opening her mouth to protest, Holly could not find any words. Before she could say a thing, Emiko had grabbed her by the hand and was nearly jogging towards the school. Holly had a tough time keeping up in her heels. Emiko quickly led them into a handicap bathroom stall, large enough for the two of them to fit. "Okay," Emiko said. "Let’s switch." She pulled the jumper off and began unbuttoning her blouse, revealing her regulation cotton bra and panties. Holly was much more hesitant. Rolling her eyes, the taller girl put her hands on the Asian woman’s shoulders. "Look. We’ll be living together for a while. We’re going to see each other naked sooner or later, so we might as well get off on a good foot, right?" Slowly, Holly began to disrobe. She felt very self-conscious, particularly as Emiko had already stripped clear to the buff and was watching Holly doff her clothing while trying to preserve as much modesty as possible. The transfer student wasn’t helping, continuing to hurry Holly while complimenting the woman’s choice of underwear. It was very embarrassing for the Asian woman, who stood as naked as the day she was born, shyly covering her flat breasts and neatly trimmed loins. Before she knew it, Emiko had dressed up in her own skirtsuit! What’s more, due to the white girl’s superior height and figure, it filled out in all the right places, looking just tight enough to demonstrate her gorgeous figure. In fact, Emiko looked better in Holly’s skirtsuit than she did! Emiko pursed her lips. "Hmm...I don’t think you’ll fit into my uniform; it’s too big for you. Stay right there; I’ll go tell the principal the plan and get you a new uniform. Just stay right there." Taking Holly’s purse, keys, and her own uniform, Emiko raced out of the stall and left the cold, trembling woman there alone. Shivering in the cold of the sterile bathroom, Holly took a seat on the toilet and waited there, feeling humiliated at her plight, but telling herself that Emiko wouldn’t take long. The young lady was back within twenty minutes. In her hands was a new uniform with regulation training bra and panties. "The principal loves the idea," she explained. Holly was just grateful to put something on; sitting on a toilet naked in a girl’s bathroom made her desperate to put any clothes on, and putting on a girl’s uniform didn’t seem like such a bad idea now. Emiko helped her into the regulation white cotton panties. "They’re a little snug," she told Emiko. "I had to guess on your sizes. Come on, no time to delay; let’s get you dressed up for your first day of school!" Emiko had become more assertive, not letting Holly dress herself as she pulled the unflattering training bra onto the embarrassed Asian girl. The blouse came next. It fit, too, albeit tightly, and the short sleeves made Holly’s slim arms appear all the younger. The skirt was much too short, reaching Holly’s mid-thigh, but Emiko waved it off. "It’s just for one day, so quit complaining. Jeez, you really are acting like a little girl." As Emiko put on more of her uniform, Holly began to feel more and more like a young girl. When the blonde made her sit on the toilet after pulling on her jumper in order to put on the knee socks and Mary Janes, Holly objected. "I can put my socks and shoes on myself," she said, but it came out as a meek whine. "Of course you can, dear," Emiko replied dismissively. The younger girl forced Holly to stand and looked her over. Reaching into Holly’s purse, she pulled out two hair bands and pulled the teacher’s locks into two cute pigtails. "You look perfect!" she told the embarrassed young woman. "Now come along, let’s get you to class," Emiko told Holly, grabbing her by the arm roughly and taking her out of the bathroom and down the deserted hallway. They opened the door to the classroom that was first on the list of classes Emiko had given to her new housemate: a literature class taught by the school’s most fervent disciplinarian, Mrs. Bertha Thomas. A stern old woman with her graying hair in a tight bun, Mrs. Thomas did not look kindly at Holly. "And just who are you, young lady?" At the stern voice, the timid woman froze. Emiko assertively took the initiative. "My name is Ms. Emiko Ninan. I’m a new teacher here, and I found this student wandering in the hallway. Her name is Holly Shao, and she just transferred here from Japan. According to her schedule, this is her classroom." Holly was aghast. Emiko wasn’t the teacher, she was! This was just a way for her to get to know her students before having to confront them as their teacher! She tried to get a word out, but was quickly cut off by the imposing Mrs. Thomas. "Pleased to meet you, Ms. Ninan. Thank you for finding this wayward student." Turning towards Holly, Mrs. Thomas frowned. "I don’t know how you do it in Asia, Ms. Shao, but here at this academy you will be expected to be punctual every day! Is that clear? I won’t have any disorder in my classroom, so it’s best to rid you of this behavior as soon as possible! Brady, will you assist me in Ms. Shao’s punishment? You’re a good student." A grinning young man rose from his desk and walked over to Holly. "Gladly," he said, taking the frightened girl by both arms and forcing her to bend over the teacher’s desk, gripping both her wrists behind her back with one of his hands. The frightened girl was so overwhelmed that she could barely utter one word of protest as Emiko looked on, a devious smirk on her face. Mrs. Thomas nodded to Brady. "Raise Ms. Shao’s skirt. The price for being tardy in my class is ten swats. If you’ll be so good as to administer the punishment, we’ll be able to get to work." "No, no, please..." Holly managed, finally finding her voice again as the young man raised her skirt, exposing her white cotton briefs. "I’m not-" Swat! Brady’s hand exploded on her butt, making her cry out in pain. He continued the treatment, hitting her hard with each strike, with every single boy in the class leering at her tight little butt confined in those snug little briefs. Her slim thighs were fully exposed to the gaze of each teen, making Holly all the more humiliated. After six swats, she began to sob in embarrassment. She was a proud teacher, not some pretty little schoolgirl! When the punishment was finally over, Mrs. Thomas put a hand on Brady’s shoulder. "Go get her cleaned up, will you? She’s a disgrace." Smiling from ear to ear, the eighteen-year-old nodded. "Of course, Mrs. Thomas. I won’t take long." He took the crying girl by the wrist and led her out of the classroom. Once the door closed, he spun her around and kissed her forcefully on the lips. The emotionally drained Holly couldn’t do a thing to stop him except mewl pitifully, which only made the opportunistic Brady deepen the kiss. He couldn’t get any further than that as the class door opened, and Emiko stepped out, sneering a bit at the display. "Now, now, Brady, I’m sure Holly will be more than happy to go on a date with you soon. I’ll give you her number. But for now, I have to take her home. Mrs. Thomas thought that she’s too childish to go for the rest of the day after that spanking." After waiting for Emiko to scribble out Holly’s home phone number, Brady winked at Holly and strode back into class. Emiko looked condescendingly upon her "teacher" and pushed her back hard against the lockers. Her voice was low and dangerous. "You stupid idiot. I can’t believe you let me just strip you naked in that bathroom or believe any of that crap I told you, but you’ll live to regret it. I told the principal that our paperwork had gotten switched and that I was the new teacher and you were the student. He just straight-up believed every word I said and changed the records. So from now on, I’ll be calling the shots. Got it?" "But...but why...?" "Here’s why," Emiko continued, cutting the schoolgirl off. "I lived on a military base my entire life. Everyone told me what to do. Well you know what? Now I’m out of that hellhole, and I’ll be the one telling other people what to do, starting with you. So we’re going to start with a little shopping. I need some new clothes, and you need something more appropriate for your age. Some cute dresses, skirts, frilly little blouses, kiddie undies...all on your dime, of course. You need some new clothes, especially for that date you have coming up. I bet Brady will love to take you out for a nice meal before spanking you again." She said the last part with particular glee. Holly began to cry anew at that. Now she had an established reputation as a student among both faculty and students. She didn’t know anyone who could clear her name, and she was living with a militaristic girl who had usurped her authority and identity in one fell swoop. She would be a schoolgirl at this discipline-centric academy and had already established a bad rapport with her teacher. Emiko seemed determined to make her have a relationship with that boy, Brady, and nothing would embarrass Holly more than having a teenage boyfriend. The sound of Emiko’s heels clicking down the hallway seemed like an ominous signal that Holly’s life was about to get a whole lot worse.

Mario Kart World soundtrack.

Age