New World Order - Chapter 6

Ella stood awkwardly at the front of the class, Miranda right beside her, looking at the dozen-or-so young women sitting in rows at plastic desks. None of them were dressed like respectable adults, and the two new additions were no exception. Miranda wore a tiny miniskirt and a t-shirt with a picture of a busty woman on the front, kneeling down with her mouth open and her tongue out to receive a baby bottle suspended in the air above her. It was accompanied by the caption I love sucking on “bottles”.

Ella was dressed in a pale pink frock that ended before her thighs even began, and she was highly conscious of the way her pull-ups peeked out beneath the hem of her skirts; Miranda’s childish, rainbow-patterned knickers were also showing beneath her miniskirt, but at least her underwear wasn’t designed to be peed in… She could see her best friend’s eyes flitting towards her padded pants. In their texts to each other, she’d avoided mentioning how her boyfriend had put her back in training pants full time, along with most of the other humiliating details of her new lifestyle.

Still, Miranda herself looked just as humiliated by her own state of dress. Her cheeks were flushed with colour and she was grinding her teeth in the way she usually did right before she started ranting about something. Compared to what some of the girls in the class were wearing on their bottoms, however, her underwear was practically grown-up. Ella could see at least three pairs of nappies, one cloth and two disposable – the low angle of the chairs meant that whoever was standing at the front of the class had a clear view up the girls’ skirts, and with a sick feeling, Ella noticed that a couple of the girls’ diapers were looking distinctly used. She wrinkled her nose. Only four of the women wore panties like Miranda, and theirs were similarly childish, patterned with little hearts and unicorns and teddy bears. The remaining five girls wore pull-ups. Their other clothes were a motley of flouncy skirts and frilly dresses, bib overalls and t-shirts, and a few were sucking on oversized pacifiers.

“Okay girls!” called Mrs Abbot, the more kindly-looking of the two middle-aged woman that Ella had been introduced to as her teachers when John had dropped her off. “We’ve got two new students joining us today!” She patted Ella’s bottom. “This pretty little princess is Ella!”

“Hello Ella!” the class chorused.

“And this cutie-patootie is Randi!” she said, giving Miranda’s bottom a quick pinch that made her yelp and jump away.

“Hello Randi!”

“My name’s not Randi,” Miranda said angrily, rubbing her bottom and glaring daggers at Mrs Abbot. “It’s Miranda. And I’ll thank you to keep your hands off my ass!”

There was a loud crack, a sound like a whip, as Mrs Williams delivered a hard smack to Miranda’s bottom, making the young woman yelp again even louder. Where Mrs Abbot was plump and smiling, Mrs Williams was thin and severe, with her black hair tied up in a tight bun at the back of her head. “Bad girl, Randi!” she shouted, and Ella felt her heart rate start to rise rapidly, her mind instantly transported back to vague memories of childhood scoldings.

Miranda’s seemed too shocked by the suddenness of the telling off, and of the blow to her bum. She just stood there, open-mouthed, looking wide-eyed and fearful at Mrs Williams as she continued to shout.

“Very bad girl! You do not contradict Mrs Abbot, and you do not use naughty language like that!”

“Uh-oh, missy,” Mrs Abbot said sweetly, wagging her finger at the stunned Miranda. “You’ve only been here a few minutes and you’ve already earned yourself a smacked botty! Your Daddy said that he wants you to go by Randi now, not Miranda.” She looked at the rest of the class. “And I expect everyone here to call her Randi too unless they want to be in big trouble.”

“Yes, Mrs Abbot!” they chanted.

Mrs Abbot turned back to Miranda. “And sweetie, Mrs Williams is right. We don’t use naughty language like that here, not unless it’s part of a lesson. I don’t want to hear anything like that coming out of your mouth without permission, okay? You don’t call it your ‘ass’. You call it your bottom, your bum-bum, your tushy, your bot-bot, or something appropriate like that.”

Miranda scowled furiously, but kept her mouth shut.

“The rules here are quite straightforward,” Mrs Abbot went on, addressing Ella now too. “Just do as you’re told like good little girls and you won’t get into trouble. No interrupting, no adjusting your outfits by yourselves – though you’re an exception to that last rule, Randi. Your Daddy says you can take your knickers off and go bare botty whenever you want. In fact, he specifically requested that we teach you to have little ‘nudie episodes’ where you strip off all your clothes and go streaking. So those can be at breaktimes.”

“Little whats?” Miranda demanded, looking appalled.

There was another cracking sound, and Miranda squealed again, hands flying to her bottom as she spun around and backed away from Mrs Williams.

“If I have to smack your naughty little bum one more time, young lady, you’ll be going over my knee for a proper, bare-bottom spanking.” This time Mrs Williams didn’t raise her voice, but if anything her cold threat sounded even more frightening. Ella swallowed nervously, glancing at Miranda and praying that her friend had the sense not to push this psycho too far.

“Take your seats now, girls,” Mrs Abbot said pleasantly, pointing to an empty two-person desk in the middle of the classroom. “We’re about to start our first lesson of the day, our ‘etiquette around men’ class. Are you little ones ready to learn?”

It was as bad as Ella had expected. They were taught to “always hush when a man is talking” so they wouldn’t miss all the smart things he said, and how a girl’s silly babbling couldn’t possibly be more important. “Girls should be seen and not heard,” Mrs Williams told them sternly. They were taught to smile and curtsey and keep their eyes lowered when a man greeted them, or to ask for a hug or to sit in their laps in more informal settings. “No man’s likely to object to a snuggle from a bunch of cuties like you!” Mrs Abbot told them affectionately.

A class on ‘a woman’s rightful place’ came next, where they were taught that girls never really grew up like boys did, and remained big children all their lives. Ella wasn’t sure where Mrs Abbot and Mrs Williams were supposed to fit into that; it seemed as though the patriarchal order didn’t have a problem putting some older women in limited positions of power, provided they were in caregiving roles, but she resisted the urge to ask them whether they were just ‘big children’ too. Miranda also seemed to be struggling not to say anything, and she seethed quietly beside Ella the whole time they ‘learned’ about how classical civilisations were right to treat women as perpetual minors without the intellect of maturity to be proper citizens, and how the rightful order was being established once again.

“Alright girls, playtime!” Mrs Abbot announced once the lesson was finally over, and everyone immediately got up from their desks and headed to the back of the classroom, where piles of dolls and stuffed toys and picture books were scattered about the place.

Ella and Miranda stood up and went to follow them, glad of the opportunity to talk together with some privacy, but a sing-song voice held them back.

“Wait a moment, Randi!” Mrs Abbot trilled. “Did you forget? It’s nakie time! Arms up, sweet girl. Let’s get all those icky clothes off so you can go nudie.”

Miranda’s face turned scarlet. Her eyes darted to where Mrs Williams was standing, and it was clear she was in half a mind to refuse. But then, slowly, as though it were causing her physical pain, she raised her arms into the air.

“Good girl!” Mrs Abbot cooed, lifting Miranda’s t-shirt up over her head and freeing her small but perky breasts. Miranda covered them hastily with her hands. Her miniskirt went next, and then her rainbow-patterned panties were pooled around her ankles before she could so much as squeak in indignation.

“There’s our little nakie princess!” Mrs Abbot said happily, looking Miranda up and down. Ella couldn’t help but stare too, and she noticed that the patch above Miranda’s pink pussy had been shaved completely bare, despite her belief that the male fondness for hairless vaginas was a sign of their obsession with infantilising and controlling women. “Off you go and play now, girls,” said Mrs Abbot, pushing them towards the toys at the back of the class and sending Miranda on her way with a firm pat on her now bare bottom.

They made their way over to a relatively quiet corner, Miranda glaring at the floor the entire time, doing her best to cover her breasts with one arm and conceal her pussy behind her hand with the other. For the sake of her friend’s dignity, Ella tried to keep her eyes averted from her jiggling boobs and her naked sex, but it wasn’t easy – she couldn’t help glancing at Miranda’s nakedness with a kind of morbid curiosity. She’d seen her friend naked before, but this was different. They sat down and Miranda immediately placed a stuffed bear between her legs to hide her slit. Then she crossed her arms over her chest and scowled, and Ella was reminded irresistibly of a little girl pouting after being put in time-out.

“So,” Ella said awkwardly, “how are things with your stepdad?”

“The usual,” Miranda said sourly. “He changed up my wardrobe again to make my clothes even more skimpy. But lately… Well, as you can see, lately he’s been getting more interested in the idea of me wearing nothing.” Her cheeks burned red again.

“But he still hasn’t tried to get it on with you or anything?”

Miranda shook her head.

“Well, at least that’s something,” Ella said encouragingly.

Miranda scoffed. “He just wants to screw with my head,” she said. “He wants to be able to say that I’m the one who tried to seduce him, not the other way around. He keeps trying to ‘incentivise’ me to do stuff with him, saying things like ‘girls who play with their Daddies get treats’. It’s so fucking gross!”

“Keep your voice down,” Ella urged, glancing around nervously to make sure neither Mrs Abbot or Mrs Williams had heard Miranda swearing. When she looked back, she saw Miranda looking at her face intently.

“What?” said Ella. “Why are you staring at me?”

“Are you wearing braces?”

Ella closed her mouth quickly and nodded. She’d almost forgotten about the childish things she was wearing over her teeth. She’d gotten so used to them over the last few days that it hadn’t occurred to her how stupid she must look. “John made me get them,” she mumbled.

“What a creep!” Miranda hissed. “Men are all the same. They can’t decide whether they want to treat us like toddlers or sex toys, so they treat us like both.”

At that moment, a petite redheaded woman toddled over to them, her legs spread wide by the bulky diaper she wore. She was clutching a stuffed bunny to the blouse of her frilly, pale yellow dress, and a large dummy was bobbing in her mouth. “Wanna pway wif me?” she asked, holding out her bunny.

“Um… No thank you,” said Ella. She felt a chill run down her spine. Something was very wrong. This woman had the same vapid, childish expression that she’d seen on Angela Smith’s face during her last interview.

Miranda said nothing. Ella could see her staring in disgust at the woman’s sagging nappy. It was almost the same colour as her dress, clearly full to the brim with piss.

“Don’t wanna pway?” The woman lowered her bunny, looking tearful.

Another woman appeared, this one with short blonde hair, glasses, and the waistband of a pull-up just visible on the sides of her waist, sticking out of her black bib overalls. “I think Jessie and Hannah would love to play with you, Penny,” she said, pointing over at a couple of girls who were sitting a little way away playing with stuffed animals of their own. “Why don’t you try them?” Penny’s expression immediately turned to delight, and she waddled over to join them, gurgling happily behind her pacifier as she went.

“Mind if I sit?” asked the woman with the glasses.

Ella nodded.

“Thanks. I’m Susan.”

“Not Susie?” Miranda asked bitterly.

“Not when they can’t hear us. But listen, you need to be careful. You can get much more than a spanking if you misbehave here. If you act up too much, you’ll end up like them.” She jabbed her thumb over at the trio of women that now included Penny.

Ella noticed that neither of the other girls was in diapers – in fact one was even wearing panties – but both wore similar expressions on their faces. It was no mere act, she was sure. The woman in the pull-ups looked more mature than Penny, and the woman in panties more mature than her, but like Penny, like Angela Smith, it was clear that they were no longer adults in their minds.

“What happened to them?” Ella whispered.

“None of us are sure, exactly,” said Susan. “But Penny, Jessie, and Hannah were all problem cases. Acting up at home, acting up in class. One day they’re completely normal, then the next day they come into school like this. I think it must be some kind of brainwashing technology the Patriarchy Party has recently developed.”

“That’s impossible,” said Miranda.

“You don’t believe your own eyes?” asked Susan.

“You can’t just wipe a woman’s mind away overnight,” Miranda insisted. “Those girls must have given in, that’s all. They broke, and decided it was better to play along than to fight. They might be able to make us dress up like toddlers, but they can’t get inside our heads unless we let them.”

Ella opened her mouth to speak, but at that moment Mrs Abbot’s cheery, overly enthusiastic voice interrupted their conversation.

“Alright girls, it’s potty time!” she called to the class at large. “You know what that means, don’t you? It’s time to do the potty dance! Stand up, everyone!”

They all got to their feet, and Ella saw with a sinking feeling in her stomach that Mrs Williams was going around placing small plastic potties behind each of the students, excepting those who were in nappies.

“Most of you know the rules,” Mrs Abbot said to the class, “but Ella and Randi haven’t heard them yet, and some of you silly things probably need reminding anyway. When I give the instruction, you’re all going to start doing the potty dance. Even if you only need to go a little, you’re going to make it look like you’re absolutely bursting; the more desperate and helpless you look, the better. But that’s not all. This potty dance is also going to be sexy.” She said the last word in a carrying whisper, as if she was letting them do something naughty as a little treat – and indeed, Ella heard Penny and another girl giggle breathily. “You’re going to wiggle your bums and shake your boobies,” said Mrs Abbot. “You’re going to turn your potty dance into a performance that your Daddies will love to watch! And when I’m satisfied that you’ve done a good job, I’ll let you know when you can sit down and go on your potty. Except Penny, Janie, and Cindy, of course. You three can go in your nappies. Penny, you can just pretend to go, okay sweetie? I know you can’t control your wees and poos anymore.”

Ella cringed as Mrs Williams placed a potty seat down behind her, and she felt her bladder start to ache. She normally peed in a potty just like this one, and she supposed her brain had come to associate this kind of proximity to one with the immanent release of her bladder. She’d felt a vague need to pee since John had dropped her off that morning, but now that urge had increased tenfold.

“Okay girls, show me how badly you need the potty!”

Ella didn’t need telling twice. In fact, she was glad of the excuse. She pressed her hands to her crotch and started shifting her weight from one foot to the other, rolling her hips and making her large breasts jiggle inside her frock.

“Mrs Abbot came over to them. “Come on now, Randi. You can do much better than that. You’re hardly even trying!”

Miranda had been doing little more than swaying on the spot, occasionally lifting one of her feet.

“You don’t get to use the potty if you don’t do your dance properly, remember,” said Mrs Abbot. “Think about doing this for your Daddy, honey-bunny. Think about how excited you’ll make him!”

“I’m never doing anything like this for him,” Miranda said.

Mrs Abbot sighed. “He told us you were having a few attitude problems, sweetie, but don’t you fret. We’re going to help you start a new, sexy relationship with your stepdad.” She winked and tapped the picture of the kneeling, big-breasted woman on Miranda’s shirt. “I promise you’ll be sucking on your Daddy’s big bottle in no time!”

“NO I WON’T!” Miranda shouted, her expression livid, revolted. “That’s not going to happen! That will never happen! I’m not going to let you turn me into a slutty babydoll for my stupid stepdad!”

Mrs Williams was there in a second. “I warned you, little girl!”

In an instant, Miranda had been pulled over her lap, and Mrs Williams had flipped up her skirt and tugged down her undies to expose her bare bottom again.

Mrs Abbot tittered. “I guess you just couldn’t wait to get your knickers off again, could you Randi?”

“Get off me!” Miranda screamed, thrashing her arms and kicking her legs impotently, unable to break out of Mrs William’s tight grip. “Let me go right now! Ow!” She squealed as the first blow landed on her jiggling rump. Then the next one came, and the next one, and Miranda’s fury started to give way to panic. Ella saw the exact moment when her eyes widened and she realised just badly the spanking was going to hurt. “Ella!” she cried. Her bottom was turning rapidly red. “Help me! Do something!”

But Ella didn’t move. Her hands had jumped instinctively to her own bum, still slightly tender from all the spankings she’d received from John.

Miranda looked up at her furiously, pleadingly, and Ella averted her eyes. What did she expect her to do?! Try to wrestle Mrs Williams off her?! Stepping in would just mean that she’d get punished too!

“ELLA, HELP ME!”

Ella felt anger rising up in her. Miranda was being so stupid. She just didn’t get it! If this was the first time she was getting spanked, then she didn’t realise how lucky she was! It wouldn’t hurt for her to learn a lesson... In any case, she was getting absolutely desperate for the potty. If she intervened now, she’d definitely end up having to wet herself again, and the feeling of sodden pull-ups between her legs was one she was quite happy to never experience again.

She turned away and went back to doing her potty dance like the other girls, trying to ignore her friend’s increasingly desperate screeches as she bounced from foot to foot and pressed her hands against the front of her pull-ups, doing her best to exaggerate her movements and make her huge tits slosh about alluringly on her chest.

“Owww! Miranda cried. “Ow, ow, OW!”

“Carry on, everyone!” Ella heard Mrs Abbot saying. “That’s it, Penny! What a little actress you are! It really looks like you’re about to have a poopy accident in your… Oh. Well, that’s okay sweetie. That’s what your nappy’s for! Just go back to doing the potty dance after you’re done, okay baby?”

Ella let out a soft little whine. She needed Mrs Abbot to look at her!

“Owwwie! Stooop!” Miranda wailed

“Well done, Susie!” Mrs Abbot said. “I know you live with your Mummy at the moment, so this might not seem all that important, but I promise these kinds of skills will come in very useful one day. I bet the boys will be lining up to be your Daddy! Go ahead, sweetie. Go pee-pee.”

Ella whined again and bit her lip. She heard Miranda start to sob somewhere off to the side, but she didn’t care about that right now. She couldn’t last much longer…

“Good girl, Ella!” Mrs Abbot cooed, and Ella looked up to see her teacher looking at her proudly. “You can start taking down your pull-ups now. Nice and slow. Imagine your Daddy’s watching. You want to make him happy, don’t you?”

Ella made a quiet noise of assent, hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her training pants, and started to slide them slowly down her long, slender legs, as if she was doing a striptease. Once they were at her ankles, she looked up, squirming, for Mrs Abbot’s approval. The kind-faced woman was watching her with satisfaction.

“Good little girl,” she crooned, in the most sickeningly sweet voice Ella had ever head. “Okay baby, go pee-pee on the potty like a big girl!”

Ella couldn’t have held on a second longer. She slammed her bottom down onto the plastic seat, and the tinkling of pee hitting the bottom of the potty mingled with the sound of a firm hand colliding repeatedly with bare flesh. Tinkle, tinkle, tinkle. Smack, smack, smack! Ella let out a long sigh of relief, just as Miranda began to bawl like a baby.

“Aaaaaahhhh…”

“Waaaaahhhh!”