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San Bambina Chapter Six
🕑 Added 2021-07-17 16:02:27 +0000 UTCSorry about the wait on this one, everyone. The next part of Regression Crisis will be landing next week.
Blushing and nude but for her diaper, Staci forced herself to sit quietly while Mary quickly brushed and styled her hair into a couple of pig tails, then did her make-up for her. The finished product surprised her... Staci thought she looked like a cross between a pop star and a toddler.
Mary led the girl reporter into the bedroom to get dressed. Staci was expecting some sort of formal school uniform, but her expectations were subverted again when she was put into a cutesy, cotton-candy pink dress with lacy white trim (it’s neckline plunging to reveal her cleavage, she realized when she saw herself in the mirror.) The hem was scandalously short, and when she bent over, it revealed the matching lacy pink cover that had been tugged into place over her bulging pampers, three rows of frills across the seat drawing even more attention to her bulky rump.
A pair of white stockings were drawn up her legs, emphasizing their smooth, womanly shape. Next came the shoes-- Staci’s jaw dropped when she realized they were Mary-Jane style with a high-heel, simultaneously adorably innocent and sublimely slutty.
“You are so cute!” Mary gushed, pinching her cheek. “You’re going to have no trouble fitting in... I know for a fact that the other girls are going to be so jealous!” Dazed, Staci allowed herself to be led from the room.
Staring at herself in the mirror, Staci hardly recognized what she saw. Staring back at her was an embarrassing, infantile mockery of femininity, a cruel parody of female sexuality. The outfit, she realized, at once sexualized her to the nth degree and reduced her to the status of a two year old. The Message couldn’t be more clear... she was to be seen and not heard. The realization just strengthened her resolve to help the women of San Bambina earn the simple, basic right to be seen and treated as the mature, powerful women they were.
So Staci thrust her shoulders back and held her head up high, following Mary out to the car with all the confidence she could muster. She blushed, cringing in embarrassment when she saw the giant car-seat in the back... there was no doubt where she was supposed to be sitting. She took a deep breath and settled herself in, allowing Mary to pull the straps of the seat-belt down over her shoulders and buckling it in between her legs with a loud click.
Soon they were on their way, Staci sucking in deep breaths and trying to quell her nerves. She tried to give herself a pep talk, tried to think about the valuable journalistic work she was doing-- about the light she would shine on a very real injustice in the world and about the way she’d so fearlessly committed to her undercover reporting in the face of adversity. She thought abut the accolades her work would receive from her colleagues and the awards she would win for fearlessly throwing herself into the story
But so far, it wasn’t helping her feel any less silly in her diapers and slutty big baby clothes, nor did it make her blush any less red when she heard her pampers crinkling softly under her squirming tushy. No matter how she told herself she was still grown-up and in control of her life, Staci felt just as powerless as she had when she was a small child.
She was lost in thought, wallowing in her own self pity that she was shocked when the car stopped and the engine went quiet.
“We’re here, honey!” Mary said brightly.
Heart pounding inside her, Staci looked around, but from the parking lot, it looked like an ordinary university campus-- in the distance, she could see stately buildings nestled between stretches of well-groomed grass and trees and straight, solidly constructed concrete pathways... just like every other college campus’ she’d visited.
The door opened, her seat belt was unbuckled, and Mary helped her out of the car. The sound of the door slamming behind her made her jump, and Staci glanced around, nervously tugging at the hem of her dress. She tried to still her mind, but doubt was starting to creep in, and she started to wonder if she wasn’t making a big mistake.
But it was too late now-- Mary took her by the hand and led her, gently but firmly, towards the campus.
“Come along, darling,” she said, leading the reluctant Staci towards one of the buildings. “Let’s get you signed in.”
Once inside, it quickly became clear to Staci that ‘college’ in San Bambina had a much different meaning that it did in America... at least as far as girls are concerned, she thought sourly, glancing around and seeing plenty of university-age girls rocking the same “Sexy Adult Baby” look that she was. The diapers were huge and obvious as the bulged from beneath cute little dresses of pink and yellow or peaked out from under the leg bands of pastel covered onesies.
It was easy for Mary to pass Staci off as her ‘niece from out of town,’ and sign her in as a drop-in... more like a daycare than a college, Staci thought bitterly, watching Mary sign her in before thanking the receptionist and taking Staci by the wrist and leading her off to class.
“Girls,” the teacher said in her honey-suckle sweet voice, drawing the attention of the other Baby Women Staci would be studying with. “Say hello to Staci!”
“Hi, Staci,” the class said in unison, and Staci felt a childish rush of embarrassment at being introduced to the class like a pre-schooler at her age. The sound of her diaper crinkling in her ears as she shifted from foot to foot made it a million times worse, and she grew self conscious when she saw the other students, sitting in clusters of four or five around round tables, staring at her and whispering to each other.
“Staci,” the teacher said, gesturing at a table near the back of the room, “why don’t you have a seat with Sheri, Hazel, and Julia there. Now girls,” she admonished in a caring but serious tone of voice, “you be nice to our new student and make her feel welcome-- right?”
“Yes, ma’am,” they agreed in unison, smiling sweetly as she settled into an empty seat.
They introduced themselves quietly before settling in to listen to the teacher’s instructions for the morning’s craft (making paper bag hand puppets), Staci took the time to study her table mates. Each of them was just a couple of years younger than Staci (between 19 and 22, she guessed), each of them dressed in much the same manner as she was: infantile, but with a heavily sexualized emphasis on their shapely womanly bodies. Sheri, her shiny blonde locks curled into tight golden ringlets, was wearing a purple onesie that hugged the curves of her body provocatively, accentuating her bust and the exaggerated hour glass shape her diaper had given her. Hazel, with her dark skin and black hair, had on a flimsy pink sundress that stopped just below the waistband of her pink and purple pampers. Julia, her striking red hair in pig tails, sporting a tight white shirt that ended just below her navel with a pair of tight reddish-pink shorts that strained to contain her big, bulky diaper beneath.
Trying not to stare, she grabbed her paper bag and started work on her puppet, feeling exceedingly foolish as she did. But a couple of quick glances revealed that she seemed to be the only one-- her classmates were throwing themselves into their work with gusto, the teacher moving from table to table, smiling and complementing the students on their work as she did. Several of the students sucked silently on pacifiers as they worked, and a few absent mindedly worked their thumbs in their mouths, but most of them quietly chatted to each other.
Shifting on her diapered bottom, blushing as the crinkling filled her ears, Staci took a felt and began colouring her puppet and wondered what her next move should be.
