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A/N: Story is not finished yet but has some stuff I am very happy with. Will be releasing once a week for at least the next three weeks and hopefully motivated to keep working on this one. TIA for reading! Update (06/15/24): Chapter 2 submitted Continuing Education Chapter I: “Let the Lesson Begin” Life was supposed to be better than this. Michael Mason was twenty seven years old. He had a Bachelor’s Degree in forensic science. His gorgeous wife loved him deeply. And yet all he could think was how relieved he was that his boss was getting ready to write him up. It got him off the sales floor for awhile and away from all those damned boxes of merchandise. The manager’s office was small, little more than a desk and a couple of chairs. The room itself was unusually hot. Surprising since the company was too cheap to pay for heating in the store at night and the building felt more like a freezer. The only job Michael had been able to land was an overnight stocking gig. Every night, five nights a week, from 9 PM to 6 AM he opened boxes and stuck things on the shelves for minimum wage. The job was originally supposed to be something temporary while he found something in his field. Every morning he drug himself home, physically exhausted from the manual labor and from battling his circadian rhythm. What little free time he had he wanted to spend with Alyssa, his wife. The store itself had completely unrealistic times. Lectures about safe stretching and lifting exercises didn’t mean much when the only way to get the work done as quickly as his managers expected was to bend and lift in the most unsafe ways possible. And while he was tearing his body up to get product on the shelves, the people complaining that he wasn’t fast enough were doing what exactly? Hanging out in the back office on TikTok. It had been more than once that he’d wandered to the back in search of equipment or supplies, things his managers never seemed to know where to find, and caught them all crowded around someone’s cell phone, laughing their heads off. So the job was dogshit but at least he was bringing in money. He’d probably be fired eventually but he wasn’t going to quit on them. If they did plan to fire him for being “inefficient” then he was going to get every last penny he could out of them first. Kyle, the overnight assistant, who thought he was a store manager himself, sighed dramatically as he dropped into the chair on the other side of the desk, sitting upon it as if it were the throne from which he lorded over his subjects. “Mike, I’m tired of having performance conversations with you.” “It’s Michael sir.” His nametag said Michael. He indicated on his forms he preferred Michael. He’d told Kyle on numerous occasions he preferred Michael. “Mike,” Kyle continued, ignoring the protest. “To be blunt, your performance is wholly inadequate for this job. We have written disciplinary actions for you twice and this will now be the third time in less than a year. As such, we’ve decided to move forward with separation. I’m going to need your nametag, box cutter, and any other company equipment.” Kyle gestured to the third man in the room. “Jack will have to escort you out after you clean out your locker.” So, that was it. Game over. There was a part of Michael that would be completely relieved that he wasn’t going to have to show up anymore. Of course there was also the part that knew Alyssa was going to be absolutely furious with him. They could barely afford their rent now and they had just managed to open a savings account and drop spare bits of change into it. Going back to a single income was going to set them back by months. There was no point in complaining about it. Michael tossed his boxcutter and nametag on the table and stood up without a word. He was not going to give Kyle the satisfaction of crying or begging for his job. In silence, he strode out of the room, only slightly irritated that Jack was following him every step of the way. “It’s a tough thing,” Jack said. “But you really did it to yourself Mike.” “It’s Michael,” Michael sighed as he pulled a few personal things out of his locker. “Well look on the bright side Mike,” Jack said, “In six months you can re-apply.” “Jack, why would I re-apply for this shithole job?” Michael had tried his best to keep his cool but he’d failed. His only recourse was to blast his hate through his eyes directly at Jack. The expected effect occurred and Jack smirked as he saw the anger in Michael’s face. “You’ll be back,” Jack said. “Your type always comes back.” “You know what Jack?” Michael was already headed for the exit. “Go fuck yourself.” * * * Michael wasn’t sure how manly sitting in his bathrobe at the kitchen table with a container of ice cream and a scoop was but it was making him feel better. It was barely after 2 AM and Alyssa was fast asleep. He’d quietly changed and moved back out to the living room to wallow in his own misery. She was going to be so damned angry when she found out. He had no idea what time it was when the light in the bedroom turned on. He was cold. His robe was barely hanging on him and the ice cream had mostly liquefied. He slopped another bite, getting sticky melted goo all over his face, and sending another jolt of brain freeze to his head. “Michael? Why are you home so early?” It should have been a crime how easily Alyssa made it seem to look beautiful. Despite having slithered out of bed, her hair cascaded down her back as if she’d just had it styled. Her face was perfectly shaped and her eyes popped as if she had a ring of mascara. She could have done a hell of a lot better than an almost thirty year old loser who couldn’t even hold down a job at the grocery store. Here it came. Might as well rip the band-aid off. “I got fired.” He gritted his teeth, prepared for the explosion. Which didn’t….come? He caught a whiff of Alyssa’s perfume, vaguely scented like lilacs, as she wrapped her arms around him in an embrace before gently prying the spoon from his fingers and pulling it away. “Honey, you’re sticky,” she frowned as she disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a washcloth, which she ran over his face. Rather dumbfounded that he wasn’t having his face ripped off, Michael sat there and let his wife clean his face instead. “You’re not…huh?” Michael blinked. Alyssa had a bit of a temper but they didn’t exactly fight. He was expecting her to be mad. Mad in that sort of, “I’m disappointed in you” type of way that would make him feel like a total jackass without her actually raising her voice at him. “Not what?” she smiled as she sat down across from him. “I’m not a mind reader babe, use your words.” “I thought you’d be mad at me,” he confessed. “I’m not thrilled, no,” Alyssa frowned. “You don’t need me to tell you it’s going to hurt us. But you’ve been pretty unhappy at that job and I feel like I barely get to see you. We’ve got to be able to find a way to make things work where we don’t have to be apart so much.” “Yeah,” Michael nodded. His stomach growled in protest at him. Gorging on ice cream had not exactly been his most erudite moment. “What if…” Whenever Alyssa had an idea that she thought exceedingly clever, a grin spread across her face not unlike the Cheshire Cat. “...what if you finally followed through with your plan and went back to school?” “Yikes,” Michael sat up, pushing through his angry stomach. “That’s not gonna help our money situation at all Alyssa.” “That’s the best part,” she replied. “I found a place, let me show you…” her phone appeared in her hands and she played with it for a moment, “Look at this place!” Michael glanced at the phone, reading it off, “The Finch School? What am I? A bird?” “It started as a finishing school,” Alyssa said. “Miss Finch’s Finishing School for Marriageable Young Ladies. That was back in the 20s. It’s evolved into a co-ed liberal arts college. And they offer scholarships for returning adults. Finish your education and all that.” “Yeah but Alyssa, this place is ten hours from here,” Michael frowned. “How is that going to get us more time to be together?” “That part will suck,” Alyssa nodded. “But I barely see you as is. If you go to the school, you can finish your Master’s Degree, land that inspector’s job, and get away from all of these back breaking places you’ve been applying to.” Michael looked down at his wife’s phone again. He’d have to get a place near the campus. Or a dorm room, heh. And of course there was no point in any decision at all if he couldn’t claim that scholarship. There was no way he was taking loans out and they definitely couldn’t pay tuition out of pocket. “Ok then, I’ll apply for the scholarship and we’ll go from there.” “Good boy,” Alyssa beamed at him. * * * He’d done it. He’d gotten in. The application process was very easy and had been done completely online. He’s sent in some writing samples and records from his time at the state university. A few days later he’d received an acceptance email. The terms seemed almost too good to be true. He was required to accept campus housing, agree to a code of conduct that mostly boiled down to not doing stuff he’d hated doing when he was twenty anyway, and had to keep his grades up. That’d be easy enough. Michael had always learned his lessons well. He’d briefly met his roommate Nick when he’d dropped his luggage off at his dorm room. Nick was a few years older too so there was definitely a level of relief there that he wasn’t going to be shacked up with some eighteen year old kid fresh out of High School. It was a little odd that they’d been roomed together but Nick just laughed when Michael voiced his concerns. It would work. “The campus is beautiful babe,” he had his phone glued to his ear and was chatting with Alyssa. She was back at home getting ready for work. “My room’s not too bad. We’ll have to video chat later. My roommate seems cool. There’s a lot of…” Michael glanced around. There were a lot of girls at this school. It had been a women’s college originally. If it was one of those schools that ended up recruiting the kids of former students, maybe that wasn’t too surprising. He was pleased to note that there were plenty of older students but some of the styles of dress…he’d walked by an entire group of girls in Japanese lolita style! A girl, a woman really, who had to be at least thirty but nevertheless was wearing shortalls and had her hair in pigtails, literally skipped by him swinging a Hello Kitty backpack from her left hand as she bounced along the sidewalk towards one of the class buildings. “...girls here.” “That’s not a problem is it?” Alyssa asked. “Not for me, but uh….” Michael trailed off, too embarrassed to finish the thought. His half comment was greeted by a shriek of laughter. “Not to toot my own horn Michael but, you’re not going to cheat on this, are you?” His phone chirped and he pulled it from his ear long enough to glance at the picture that his wife had just sent him. She wasn’t wearing anything at all. And she had her fingers between her spread legs, pulling a pair of lips apart. “Alyssa!” More giggling from the phone. “We’re gonna have to get used to sexting sweetie. And babe, mommy is going to need A LOT of pics while you’re at school.” “Maybe save the NSFW for when I’m not walking around a college campus in the middle of the day,” Michael laughed. “But seriously babe, you are gorgeous. You just made it that much harder for me to concentrate on my classes.” “Well then, I guess you won’t get any more pics until you show me that you’ve learned something,” Alyssa said. Michael was outside his classroom now. “I’ll show you exactly what I’ve learned tonight babe. I’ve got to go now though, I’m at my first class. Love you.” “Love you too. Learn a lot!” Michael hadn’t been in a college classroom in several years but the room he stepped into was certainly not what he expected. The walls were a pastel green with rainbows adorning them. Along the back wall were rows of cubbies, many filled with bags and other things. Many students were already sitting at desks with their hands folded. Every person in the room was a girl, none younger than twenty five, and none dressed older than twelve. Along the front wall was a chalkboard - a chalkboard! And above it a poster showing the alphabet. If it weren’t for the size of the desks, Michael would have sworn he had walked into a kindergarten classroom. This couldn’t be his class. He was here to take an advanced criminology course. The worst part about walking into the wrong room was that all the heads had turned to gawk at him. The teacher was the only person dressed remotely normally - if goth scientist was “normal.” Her long curly hair was died sea green and coiled halfway down her back. She wore a black lab coat over boots, fishnet stockings, a leather skirt, and corset. Goth…bondage…scientist? The mix of styles was almost too much. Her piercing pale blue eyes seemed to be digging into his skull and he caught just the faintest hint of lilac from her. “Oh excuse me, I must be in the wrong class,” he muttered as he turned to leave. “Stop right there!” the woman called. Michael found himself stopping in his tracks. “You come inside right now and put your things in your cubby please.” Michael found himself walking back into the classroom. Did he actually have a cubby? Impossible. That would be the easiest way to prove that he was in the wrong spot. Jennifer, Kelly, Lisa, Daisy, see…no…Michael blinked and rubbed his eyes. Right next to “Daisy” was an empty cubby labeled “MIchael.” “Well?” the instructor called out. “Uhh, yes ma’am,” Michael swallowed as he tossed his bag into the cubby and turned around. “Very good,” the instructor smiled sweetly. “Now if you’ll take your seat please.” “Oh, which one is mine?” Michael was a bit confused. There were several empty seats, so he wasn’t exactly sure where he should sit. “Oh Professor!” the blond in pigtails that had skipped past him earlier had raised her hands and was waving it excitedly. Dress aside, Michael was definitely sure that this girl had to be in her early 30s at least. Meanwhile the professor looked like she couldn’t be more than about twenty two. “Yes Daisy?” the Professor smiled sweetly. “Professor, can she sit at my table?” the girl named Daisy asked. She? Michael had to admit that he was a bit on the thin and small side but still, there could be no way he’d be mistaken for a girl right? Short hair, tee shirt, jeans. He practically screamed “guy going back to college after failing at life.” “Yes, that will be fine. The new girl can sit with you Daisy,” the professor replied. “Oh, but, uh…” Michael cleared his throat. He wasn’t entirely sure where this misconception was coming from but it was definitely something he wanted to clear up. “Yes sweetie?” the Professor beamed at him as if he had just answered a really hard question. “Can you use the words to share your thoughts with the class?” “I’m a boy actually.” Michael said. The classroom erupted, first as every girl gasped and then peels of laughter echoed from all around the room. Every table seemed to burst into chatter as all the students began talking and pointing at him. “Girls, settle down!” The Professor grabbed a yardstick from her desk and wrapped it three times. The knocking sound killed the conversation. “Is that any way to treat a new student? Now sweetie, I want you to come to the front of the room ok? I promise, you’re not in trouble.” Feeling foolish, and knowing he was blushing, Michael walked up to the front of the room and stood next to the teacher. Her lilac perfume wrapped itself around his nose in a way that was intoxicating. He could feel his head going light. “Now sweetie, this is Miss Finch’s Finishing School and it is a school for girls. If you’re a student here, you have to be a girl here. You are a student here, aren’t you?” “Yes, but…” Michael went to protest. The school hadn’t been a girls only school in fifty years! And it wasn’t a finishing school anymore, it was a liberal arts college. Something in the back of his mind told him that whatever was going on was so strange that his best bet would be to run. But that smell… “And if all the students here are girls, that means you’d have to be a girl too, doesn’t it?” “But I’m not a girl!” Michael insisted. “Oh don’t worry sweetie, I’ll help you with that,” the Professor said. She reached for his face, caressing it in her hands, and pulled him forward before delivering a peck on the cheek. “You see, I can make it all better with just a kiss.” Michael felt just slightly off. He couldn’t quite place it but something was different. His shirt seemed to hang from him loosely as if it had grown two sizes too big. Oddly, it felt tighter around his chest than it had before. The reality of the matter, that he had somehow shrunk, set in when his pants slid right off his hips, now hopelessly larger than his waist. “What in the…” Michael’s hand slammed across his mouth. That hadn’t been his voice! Michael had a deep, husky voice, just slightly gravely. The voice that had escaped his lips had been honeyed, soft, and very feminine. When he glanced down, he realized more was wrong. The hair on his hands and legs had disappeared completely, his skin now soft and smooth. He had previously had many blemishes and moles all across his body, they were all gone now. And his chest? The reason his shirt was tight was that he now had cleavage! A strand of hair fell into his face, dirty brown having turned into a silken brown mousse - short length having transformed into mid length curls that coiled around his shoulders. His…more like…”What did you do to me?!” “I told you sweetie,” the Professor replied with a smile. “Only girls attend Miss Finch’s Finishing School. Since you’re a student here, you must be a girl.” “I’m not a…” Michael stopped himself, no…herself, as she felt a new sensation. Her underwear was becoming warm and wet. She was peeing herself! The escaping fluid quickly turned into a flood as her boxers became uselessly saturated and pee dripped down her legs, pooling in her jeans at her feet. “Oh dear, oh dear,” the Professor shook her head. “Daisy, will you go into the supply cabinet and get me the diapers? It looks like our new student had her first accident.”

Mark gingerly pushed the door open, creeping inside the apartment. Kate hadn’t been expecting him, but she never minded a surprise drop-in, and he’d made it back into town almost half a day early. More than that–he had to pee. The surprise hello could wait, first things first, he needed to get to the bathroom. Besides, it seemed like nobody was home, the lights were out in the apartment and he couldn’t hear much–he might have arrived while Kate was out with her roommate, hitting the town. Hurrying across the living room, he pushed open the bedroom door, fumbling in the darkness with the button on his jeans. He was bursting, and– “What the hell are you doing here?” Claire’s voice cut through the room, and Mark froze, looking around. A light flipped on by the bed, and he saw Claire–Kate’s roommate–half naked on the bed, straddling Kate herself, who was completely naked, except for a rubber gag in her mouth and a thick, white pair of–no, a diaper taped between her thighs. Mark’s eyes widened, hand still lingering on the button of his jeans. “Um–I–” (Bathroom.) “I just needed–” “What? To watch?” Claire snapped, turning to face him. “Did Kate set this up? Because let me tell you, she’s in enough trouble as it is–I’d hate to have to punish her more.” Spinning on her knees, she moved to the side of the bed while Mark tried to stammer an explanation. “I just–sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude, but–” Stalking towards him, Claire’s smile spread to predatory levels. “I know, dweeb. I’m not mad, but you have to admit–you kind of liked the surprise, didn’t you?” Mark’s emotions were all mixed up–Claire had jumped on him, and seemed more ready to deal with the sudden intrusion than he was. She’d always been confident, but– “Mmh?” Kate asked from the bed, looking up. Shooting a dominant glare over her shoulder, Claire snapped, “Quiet, I’ll use you when I’m ready. You haven’t even used your diaper yet, pet.” When Mark’s expression turned horrified, she added with a casual shrug, “She knows her safewords. But you–what to do with you is the question.” “I–” he began, eyes darting between his girlfriend, laying prone on the bed with nothing to cover her up save for a bulky diaper, and Claire, looming over him. He didn’t even notice that the pressure had vanished from his bladder until Claire’s eyes tracked down and her smile grew. “Oh,” she said. “I see. You just needed the potty, did you? Well–that’s alright. Little boys don’t need to worry about grown up games.” “I–” he started for what felt like the hundredth time. “Claire…” Her tone dropped, and she looked him in the eye. “Okay, are you not up for this? I figured you were coming by for a booty call, but if you’d rather just borrow some pants and get out of here, that’s fine.” Mark almost started another sentence with, ‘I-’, but managed to form a new word. “Can you catch me up a bit?” “Kate’s been a naughty girl, and asked to be punished,” Claire explained. “So that’s what I’m going to do. You don’t get to participate, you’d just get in the way, but I think it’d be okay if you stay and watch.” He thought about it for a moment–despite his shock and embarrassment at the accident, he couldn’t deny the erection that’d formed beneath his damp jeans. “Erm…if Kate’s okay with it, I mean…yes? Please?” Claire’s smile grew. “Alright, but we need to make sure you won’t make any more puddles first–and that you won’t cause any more distractions.” Over her shoulder, she asked, “Pet, are you alright? Can you hold it a little more?” Mumbling over her gag, Kate made a sound that vaguely resembled, ‘Yes’, and Claire’s smile only grew. “Alright, potty pants–if you’re going to see what it’s like when grown ups have fun, you’re going to need to take it all off.” Mark didn’t protest–he could have, at any point he could have objected, but each element came one by one, and by the time it’d all built up, he felt too deep in to back out. He stripped–that hadn’t surprised him. Then came cuffs for his hands, restraining him spread eagle to the dresser so that he sat on the ground with his arms in a T. ‘So you don’t try and get up to anything naughty during the show,’ Claire had explained, smirking down at the erection he was incapable of touching. When she spread a diaper and slid it beneath his hips, (‘since you already had once accident,’) he’d almost–almost–balked, but by then he could hear Kate’s desperate moans, and he wanted to see what Claire would do to his girlfriend enough to deal with an embarrassing undergarment. She didn’t tape it up right away, though. Instead, Claire raised a small object, no larger than the tip of her pinkie finger, holding it up for him to see. “I don’t want you complaining in a few minutes that you need to get up and use the potty,” she explained, “So we’re going to settle this right now–if you need to go, you’ll use your diaper. And you will need to go.” She waited for just a beat, long enough for Mark to object, but he held his tongue, inhaling sharply when he felt the suppository inside him, inserted deeply enough to do its work. The diaper folded nicely between his hips, and he was left there to squirm, unable to free himself, unable to do anything but watch and feel the pressure build. Once he was trussed and left behind, abandoned to his humiliation, Claire left him, crawling back onto the bed. He could just hear her purring into Kate’s ear, whispering sweet praise. “Good girl–you didn’t move an inch, did you?” Kate shook her head, legs spreading so that Claire could grab the front of her diaper, rubbing firmly against it. “I bet it’s so hard to hold it in,” Claire whispered. When Kate nodded, gasping desperately, she continued, “Then don’t–just let it all out, and we can start your punishment.” Nodding quickly, Kate gave up the fight, and from his vantage on the floor Mark could easily see the seat of her diaper swell, all the while Claire continued to finger her through thick, damp padding. “Not bad,” Claire said, a little louder. “You lasted almost fifteen minutes before you ruined your diapers–such a good girl.” Kate gasped, nodding repeatedly. Claire shot a wicked smile over her shoulder, making eye contact with Mark. “Now–let’s see how many times I can bring you to the edge before you start to cry. Trust me–by the time we’re done, no matter how full your diaper is, you’re going to be desperate.” Mark swallowed, feeling the gurgling in his own belly already beginning to build. He couldn’t be sure if Claire’s statement was directed at Kate or at him. Either way, he knew she was right. ... Written as a commission. If you'd be willing to support my writing, I'd be quite grateful! https://reamstories.com/peculiarchangelingabdl https://subscribestar.adult/peculiarchangeling