The Revolution

The following is a fictional ABDL story, that will have five chapters and an epilogue all posted one at a time in this thread.

Chapter 1: Were you?

There was screaming, and then silence. Frowns, and then grins. Storms, and then rainbows. I was in the storm, holding up my sign alongside the protestors who were on my side. I held that sign up constantly, and high as I could. It wasn’t beautiful or anything, just a board with red paint strokes on it. So long as it was legible, I couldn’t have cared less. As long as people read the “We weren’t born yesterday. Were you?” on it.

“It would drastically change student’s grades and test scores for the better.” That’s what my principal had said to us. And there was something similar to that sentence on the flyers that were sent home. He even said it to us right there, on the spot where we all spent days ranting and raving at the stone stairs that led up to the front doors of the giant concrete brick of a school. “By eliminating bathroom breaks and a distracting element from the classroom, students would be presented with more of an opportunity to focus in class and attain the knowledge they will need for later.” Principal Henn. His face and bald head were pale white. While the parts of his face that had hair, (Starting at the sides of his head, running down and taking a detour over the lip before ending with the narrow-ish, half a foot-long beard.) was snowy white. I saw a picture of a guy in my science textbook, Charles Darwin, that I thought was him at first because their facial hair was so similar. If I had to guess, I’d say he hasn’t bothered to even trim his bushy face in years. “This isn’t some ridiculous shot in the dark. The daring, Fate High-School in South Dakota was in desperate need for better results from their students, even more than we are now. They took a chance, and it helped them more than it hurt them. We’ve tried several other tactics. But we have observed no linking signs of improvement. We are trying to make sure your kids have futures. Why would you want to stop that?” Unlike Charles Darwin however, Principal Henn didn’t have much evidence for his claim. All he had was one other school to reference and a plea for cooperation. He’d need more than that if he really wanted to make diapers part of the new dress code like he said he did.

I was more shocked when I heard about Principal Henn’s plan than I was to find my younger brother setting fire to the carpet. I couldn’t believe the school board was serious about their agreement. Who would believe it? I assumed it was some joke. Or even some motivational tactic, to get kids to study and work harder so they could show they didn’t need the alternative. It wasn’t though. This was real. I wished I could just transfer to a new school, everyone wanted to. But it wasn’t that simple, being in a small town with only one high school. That fact didn’t stop some families from leaving. A handful of kids have been pulled from Greenlee High already, and are packed and ready to move over to the next town over. The rest of us were here, standing in the same place where we heard the principal give his oral announcement a week and a half later in the scorching sun at 2 PM.

Some people were drifting away from the crowd at this time for whatever reason. I didn’t ask, and just assumed they were getting lunch. It was right after the school bell rang and only twenty students came out that an older woman followed. She had a dark-red suit on; her light-red hair was up in a ball behind her head and she wore these tiny librarian glasses that looked so small I still believe they’re almost useless.
“Attention students and parents!…” She shouted, not having any microphone or wheeled in mini speakers as the principal did. “As of today, being part of this “shouting-fest” that you call a protest will no longer be an acceptable excuse for skipping class.” She had a venous sensation escaping her lips. It was if she wanted to rant, rave, and insult each and every one of us personally. Other than intimidating, she was also younger than I would have expected of someone who was working for this school dressed like that. “Any student that does not attend class tomorrow, and has no excuse more urgent than a small emergency, will be given a zero for their attendance grade for that day. This will also be the case for all remaining days of the school year.” Most of the crowd acted like you’d expect them to. Yelling, cursing, and making threats to inform the media. Not much of a threat, since they had most likely already done that. I just stood there with my sign in the air. I knew making a fuss wouldn’t solve anything at the moment. Besides, my sign said everything for me.

The next morning, I showered and dressed for school. My mother didn’t want me to go, but sensible dear ol’ dad and I agreed I didn’t have a choice with all my past absences. One or two more and I would’ve in trouble. In my bathroom, I stared at my mirror once I was more or less ready to face the day. My short, blonde hair was the first thing I focused on. It wasn’t short-short, but short for a girl. I saw my same green eyes, and used them to glance lower. Only instead of pouting at my small breasts like every other morning, I looked all over my hips and upper thighs. They looked normal. But I couldn’t help but wonder what they’d look like if the school succeeded, and I’d have an “Education-Enhancing-Pad” as they called it under my jeans. The model that was shown in class looked thicker than I would have preferred it to be.
“Terri! Your breakfast is getting cold!” My mom shouted from the kitchen.
“One second!” I grabbed my bag and stuffed my mouth with the waffles that were waiting for me. On my way out the door with half a waffle hanging out of my mouth, I felt more determined than ever to fight tooth and nail for the right to wear my panties instead of those embarrassing things.

Re: The Revolution

Chapter 2: Old Moley

I arrived to class a half a second late. And despite my bargaining to my History Teacher, that half a second made me tardy. Apparently half a second late is the same as half an hour late to these people. I tried to blame the protesting parents in the front of the school, but it didn’t work. The parents weren’t even there today. All I could do was take the hit to my record and go to my little desk in the second row, right next to the window. Whenever I’m bored in this class or need to think, I just look to my left out the window and at this behemoth of a tree, and that’s probably why I stared out of it most of the class. Truth is, I wasn’t late because of the protestors. I was late because on my walk to school my mind drifted on the question of how to prevent the school’s plan. And I guess I ended up walking slower while daydreaming. Wouldn’t be the first time. At least I didn’t walk into traffic again. Looking at that tree, I didn’t get any ideas. I did get to see this little squirrel that sometimes comes out. Lucky little bastard, having no need to worry about school, or parents, or weird tactics to boost the learning experience when in reality the students just need to get off their butts and actually put in some effort.

“Miss Prairie! Are you focusing on the lesson?” Said my teacher, Mrs…. What was her name?… I can’t remember. I paid so little attention in that class I don’t remember hearing her name or calling her by her name. I remember she had a mole, right where the nose is connected to the face, under her left eye. It was impossible not to look at when speaking to her or glancing in her general direction. I think that’s how I started looking directly away and out the window to begin with.
“Um… Yes! Yes I am.” I lied with a straight face.
“Really? Then you should know why America chose not to get involved with World War II until we were attacked by the Japanese. Shouldn’t you? Tell us, why didn’t America want to get involved?” I just said the first thing that came to mind.
“Uh… It wasn’t our problem?” My teacher, let’s just call her “Old Moley”, displayed a devious looking smirk at her question. But it slowly faded after I gave my guess.
“Well… I suppose that is technically true. My apologies, Miss Prairie. Now class, when we have our test, remember to answer-” Old Moley was interrupted by the intercom at the top of the front wall.

“Good morning students.” Said principal Henn, through the speaker. “For today’s morning announcements, I have something very important to share, so stop what you’re doing and listen up. I’m sure you’re all aware of the school’s consideration to make a change to the school’s dress-code. Because of the conflicts between School Board Directors and concerned parents, it’s been impossible for either side of this argument to make any progress. However, the group of parents who were usually found in front of the school, as well as the Directors, has agreed to put it to a vote. Now, because the parents can be biased towards what their children want, and because the School Board can be biased towards what boosts scores, or what has a chance of boosting scores rather, the only ones who will be allowed to vote are the teachers. Every teacher that interacts with students on a daily basis and knows their academic potential will be allowed one vote to cast for either side of the argument today at lunch. Teachers, this is a matter of great importance. So I hereby, strongly recommend you all give your students a study-day to catch up on missed work, so you can all spend time thinking about your decision. If you cannot, for whatever reason, make a choice by lunch time then you will not be able to cast a vote, period. Please meet in the teacher’s lounge for the voting. And student, have a wonderful day.” I didn’t know what to say or how to react at any of that. This vote would be our life preserver or our anchor.

Most of the class did know how to react, however: In the most idiotic way possible. Kids everywhere were holding their arms up and going “Woo-Hoo!” because of the mention of a study-day.
“Class!” Old Moley shouted while banging a textbook to the surface of her desk. “Calm down! It is RECOMMENDED that I give you a study-day. But we won’t be having one in this classroom.” As anyone could have expected, almost everyone moaned and groaned at her claim.
“But why not?” Someone asked, someone guy in the back row.
“Because we’re already behind on our schedule for the school year. We need to get caught up before the end of this semester’s quarter.” She replied with a condescending tone, as if it was our fault we were behind. We weren’t the ones who called in a substitute that wouldn’t know how to pour soup out of a boot if the instructions were on the heel. “Besides, I already know what side I’m going to vote for.”

I went wide-eyed and couldn’t resist speaking up.
“What? Which one?”
“I don’t know if I should answer that. Let’s all just ret-”
“You’re not gonna vote to put us in those things, are you?” Looking back, I probably shouldn’t have lashed out so viciously like that.
“Miss Prairie! Calm down, and let us get back to the lesson. Now class, who can tell me-” My head went straight out the window again. Ideas or no ideas, it was better than looking anywhere else. I could never pay attention to what Moley said because that thing on her face distracted me. And none of the kids were worth checking out either. I couldn’t even talk to anyone. No one sat in front of me since Billy was pulled by his parents, even if he wasn’t I wouldn’t be able to talk to the guy without making it obvious that he was doing it. Same reason I couldn’t talk to the guy behind me. Then to my right, there was this girl, Cynthia. I didn’t really know her at the time, and she was always looking around herself at random times like she was afraid someone was watching her. I figured she was paranoid, or had this thing called “Imaginary Audience Syndrome.” Either way, my best friend, Mr. Tree, and I were on our own.

Algebra and Spanish class both participated in the principal’s study-day suggestion. I was actually caught up in those classes, more or less. All I did was sit and think. I thought about a lot of stuff: What I’d do if a crazed gunman suddenly kicked down the door and fired his weapon, how much fun I’d have if I had the ability to freeze time and move around in this classroom, wondering if the teachers would be upset if I ordered a pizza to class. But my mind kept coming back to Old Moley. I decided I absolutely had to talk to her before she voted. She seemed determined in her choice, and it’s only one vote. But every little bit helped, and odds were she was going to vote for the change. Why else would she refuse to say what her vote would be?

Once the bell rang, ending my third period, I rushed to the front of the teacher’s lounge and waited next to the door for some time. More than once I considered running off to get some food and come back. But with my luck I knew I’d miss Moley. Several teachers walked in and out of the lounge, but I didn’t say anything to them except “Hi” or “Hello”. I didn’t know what to say. I figured if I tried to persuade them I’d just look like a badgering idiot to a bunch of teachers who didn’t know me. Finally, Old Moley showed her face. I straightened my back and faced directly at her.
“Excuse me?” She already had her hand on the doorknob when I spoke.
“Yes? Oh, miss Prairie. How can I help you?”
“I want to talk to you about the vote.” She turned her head away, towards the door and started to pull it open.
“I don’t want to talk about that with you. My mind is made up.” I slammed my palm against the door and pushed it closed.
“I know you made your choice. But please listen to me. We can’t wear those things. They wouldn’t help at all. They would just be embarrassing. And wouldn’t sitting in a soaked dia-…“Education-Enhancing-pad” be even more distracting? No part of this idea makes any sense!” I just let it all out at her. Old Moley looked at me and just shook her head at me.
“I know it doesn’t. That’s why my vote will be a no. Now please move aside.” I blinked a few times out of habit, and just froze there for a second. “Miss Prairie, please.”
“Oh. Yes. Yes Ma’am. Go right ahead.” I took a step back and waved my flat hand towards the door before she went inside. I felt so confident, so safe, and so hungry. But in this good mood, I felt as though I could race to the cafeteria before the bell rang. I felt wrong.

The next day in History, most people were anticipating the results of the vote. I say most, because a few people here and there were confident that they already knew what the result was going to be.
“Attention students.” Principal Henn said through the intercom. “All thirty-two votes have been counted.” Everyone stared up at the speaker, and I myself bit down on my lower lip. “And the end result is: The new dress-code WILL be enforced as of next week.”
“WHAT!!” I screamed when my legs just jolted me up and out of my seat.
“As you already know, this new dress-code will be mandatory. Instructions and policy information will be given by your teachers in two days, on Friday morning. Have a wonderful day, students.” The skin to the right of my right eye began to twitch. I just wanted to find out who voted for this and kick their teeth in.
“No no no. This is a joke. How could the majority of teachers vote for this?” Old Moley turned to me and gave us all a sigh.
“I don’t know. But what’s done is done. I’m very sorry, all of you. But rules are rules, and you don’t want to break them. Not the ones about wearing these at least. From what I’ve heard there will be “special consequences” for students who don’t follow this part of the dress-code.” I was too enraged and befuddled to ask what these consequences could be. I planted my face into the surface of my desk and kept it there for as long as I could. I didn’t want to even look at anyone. I had to do something. Something before we all go around wasting our time acting like worthless babies.

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Re: The Revolution

Chapter 3: Help me

It was all so strange. None of it made sense. I couldn’t possibly imagine why anyone would think that this was a good idea, especially the school board. How would making this change to the school improve anything? And why was no one asking questions? After the vote results came in, I felt so defeated. Tomorrow, everyone (including me) would have to walk around in one of those pointless, ridiculous, and humiliating things! I felt I had to do something, but what? The principal’s mind was set, and the voting had declared that the majority of teachers felt it best to go along with the insane idea. It seemed hopeless and was. But none the less, I thought and planned to where I didn’t focus in class at all. I couldn’t come up with a thing though. For every idea that my brain devised, a harsh fact of my dilemma would make its presence know in a harsh manner. I heard from other kids talking in the halls that they were planning on skipping school as a form of protest. That’s probably what I would have done too, if I didn’t find that note in my locker.

It was a torn off page from a college-ruled note book. It didn’t say who it was from or what it was for. It just said: “I want to help you. Side building cafeteria entrance.” on one side, and “8 PM. Plan to be out for long.” on the other. I probably should have felt skeptical and worried that some stranger decided to anonymously invite me to a dark and secluded place without mention as to why or who. But I didn’t. Instead, I was overjoyed that someone was actually on my side and agreed that this whole plan was a retarded, bastardized roll of the dice for higher test scores. I thought about whom the person was, that left the note. But as far as I knew, it could have been anyone. Everyone in the school knew my strong opinion on the matter. The only person I asked was my friend Sarah that shared the same biology teacher with me. A minute before the bell rang and my last class of the day begun, I asked her while everyone else waited for the teacher to arrive. Her skin was slightly darker than tan, and her brown hair with a perm in it made hugging her a nightmare if you were taller than her like I was.
“Hey Sarah, did you slip something in my locker?”
“Nnnnnno. Why?” She answered, a tad quizzical.
“No reason.” I turned around and walked toward my seat at the end of a long table, but she spoke up again.
“Wait. Someone put something in your locker? Was it a love letter!?” She seemed pretty happy when that thought crossed her mind. Sarah had always wanted a more girly friend to gossip and talk about boys with.
“No no. It wasn’t a letter from anyone who likes me. At least I hope it wasn’t.” Sarah was the only person I felt comfortable asking. The odds of it being anyone else at random must’ve been 300 to 1. I guess I could only go to the spot and wait then. “Hey Sarah, can you do me a favor?”
“I want to go somewhere tonight, but my parents can’t know. Can I tell them I’m staying over at your house and if they ask you play along?”
“Oooooo, where are you going?” She asked with a cocky smile.
“I can’t say. Can you please just do this for me?”
“Bleh, fine. Wherever you’re going, I hope you find a man. Don’t you get lonely?” I had actually never considered getting a boy friend of my own up until that point. I just never saw a reason. Looking around the room, I saw a couple guys belching and laughing immediately after.
“Not THAT lonely.” I walked to my seat and thought about the encounter I would soon be having, all throughout the class period. All this daydreaming and spacing, I’m surprised I haven’t flunked out of school already.

When I came home, I told my mother that I was going to Sarah’s house for the night and that I would ride to school with her the next morning. She just nodded and carried on with her Dr. Phil rerun. When it was close to half past seven I walked out the front door. “Bye mom.” I shouted as I left. I turned right to go to the school, and it was lucky for me, no one was looking out the window, or they would’ve seen me walking the wrong way. It took around twenty minutes to get there, same as always, and when I came to the door that entered into the cafeteria I tried to open it, but it was locked. I waited around the door for over twenty minutes hoping someone would come, and checking the clock I could see through the tiny window on the door every now and then. I told myself that maybe someone was just pulling a prank on me and wanted to make me stand here all night. Just as I said to myself: “I’ll give 'em five more minutes.” the door opened. I couldn’t see exactly who it was. I saw right away that is was girl though
“Come inside.” She stepped out and held the door open for me. Her voice sounded vaguely familiar, but I still couldn’t figure out who it was. I walked inside the well lit hallway and heard a loud slam from the door behind me. That door must’ve been one of those thick and heavy ones that close themselves with their own weight. I turned once I heard the door to see Cynthia, the quiet little paranoid girl who sat beside me in History Class. She had her hands behind her back and she was smiling sweetly. “Hi Jamie.”
“Uh, hi…. So you were the one who put that note in my locker?”
“Yes. That was me. I saw how you reacted in class when you heard the results of the vote and I want to help you.” I was caught a little off guard by her comment. Some stranger who barely knew me wanted to help?
“So I take it you hate the new policy with a fiery rage too?” She began to walk towards and then past me.
"Let’s just get going. " I followed her steps, staying right behind her.
“Get going, where? What are we even doing in the school?”
“What do you mean? This is where everything is happening. This is where the policy is being enforced, where the people who proposed the new policy work…. And it’s also where they keep all those “Education-Enhancing-Pads”” She said using her fingers as air quotes for that last part.
“So…. We’re here to get rid of the diapers?” She took a left turn into a different hallway, passing our History class.
“That’s the plan. But we need the key to where they’re keeping them. I think they’re holding them in the storage room where all the Gym class equipment is, but I’m not sure. I’ve been looking for the key for a while, but I haven’t had much luck I’m afraid.” Cynthia giggled at the end of her sentence. She walked calmly and with little tapping noises echoing through the halls that would have been much quieter in a less open building. “When I didn’t find it in the Coach’s desk I thought maybe the principal had some sort of master key in his. But it’s when I found that out that I saw the clock and realized you must have been waiting outside all this time. I’m so sorry about that, by the way.” I could see the big red door to the principal’s office ahead and on my right. That dreadful room with four completely filled bookshelves against the wall and one of those Newton ball clacker things sat. I was sent to that office so many times, I ended up counting the books while getting lectured. I got to 63 when Mr. Henn realized I wasn’t paying attention and shouted at me. If you ask me, he never actually read any of those books and just has them up for show.

Cynthia reached for the door to the principal’s office and turned it. “Oh good, it’s unlocked. Let’s hurry and leave before some janitor finds us.” I walked in blindly and immediately walked up to the desk. As I faintly saw the headings on a few pieces of paper, I was suddenly grabbed from behind with a moist cloth against my nose. I heard Cynthia whisper in my ear as my vision became fuzzy and my legs became wobbly. “Ssssshhhhh.” I fell backwards, onto Cynthia who held me up and gently set my body down. Before I passed out I faintly saw Cynthia crouching over me with that same sweet little smile, along with someone else standing beside her. “We just want to help.” Cynthia said softly and sweetly like a mother taking her child in for a flu shot at the hospital. All the while she stroked my head. And I was out.

Re: The Revolution

Chapter 4: Rewired

I heard a faint voice. I couldn’t understand it, nor could I recognize it. I felt a gentle touch on the back of my head. Someone was stroking my head. My mind immediately went to my mother being the cause of this action and the source of the voice. I remembered when I was in grade school, I wanted to stay up at night and watch just a little bit more T.V. My mother was against it but granted me the privilege that one night. When I began to feel tired, sitting on that couch in front of the flashing box, I rested my head onto her lap and she would rub my head so gracefully. It made me want to go to sleep, and would have even if I wasn’t tired, just because I knew I would have the most pleasant dreams ever.

“Mmm……Mommy?” I asked, opening my eyes and blinking a few times to clear my view. A faint giggle was let loose, along with an awakening comment.
“I’m sorry to say no, Terri.” I knew that voice. And I remember not knowing who it was earlier. I’ve already played this round of “Match that voice.”
“C-Cynthia?” I asked. I saw a figure in front of me. Its arm was reaching towards me and moving at the same rhythmic pattern as the feeling of the strokes. It was her. I could barely keep my eyes open for more than three seconds. I didn’t know what she did to me, but I wasn’t completely in the most stable state of mind.
“You’re awake. Good. I was getting a little worried. How do you like your seat?”
“My… seat?” What did she mean? It took Cynthia asking me that question for me to realize I was in a chair, and tied up to it in fact. But that’s not what she meant by “seat”. My legs were bare, I could feel it, and my shoes were off. I shifted my waist around to hear a crisp noise, similar to that of foil but much more gentle, both on the ears and the skin. I looked down at my waist to see a white, cushioned garment hugging my body down below. It was all white as snow, except for the rainbow that took up most of the front. It could have also had one on the rear, but I couldn’t see. Hell, there could have been a duck playing a guitar on the back for all I know. The sight of this thing on me snapped me out of my daze more than a gallon of espresso ever would have. “WHAT?! What is this!? Let me go, now!” I struggled as best I could, trying to wiggle my hands behind my back, and my legs tied to the front chair legs through any loose end there could be. When I discovered my limbs were secure, I tried to hop around in my chair. I succeeded in doing so, but there wasn’t much of any sort of result from it. And I knew that fact, I was just too enraged and embarrassed to admit it.

I hopped around in my chair explosively, knocking over several things in doing so. I ended up hopping backwards and leaning my chair back on two of its four legs. I would’ve fallen down on my back if Cynthia hadn’t grabbed the chair by one of the front legs and pulled it down to the ground.
“Calm down. I just want to help.” She began to stroke my head once again and look down at me with a calming smile. I felt oddly at peace. I shook my head to get her hand off and glared at her as hard as I could, not wanting to reveal anything close to enjoyment from her actions.
“Yeah, you said the same thing for stabbing me in the back! Where the hell am I? Why am I tied up? And why the holy mother of god am I in this thing!?” I asked her every question I cared about, staring directly at her and nowhere else in the whole, cramped room. She kept that little smile going, and just looked back as though she wasn’t worried. It was as if she thought she had everything under control, and didn’t even consider the possibility of me calling the cops when this was over.
“It’s okay. You’re in an empty closet. It’s the closet that used to store all the janitor’s supplies, we never left the school.” Despite my barking eyes and obvious mood, Cynthia tried again and again to try and stroke my head. But after two or three of her hand’s repeated journey down my head, I usually shook my head around to get it off, only delaying its continuation. “You’re tied up because you’d probably run away, but I can’t let that happen.”
“Well of course I’d run away! This is insane!”
“If a puppy could talk, it would say the same thing when it gets taken to the vet.” She replied with that same motherly smile. At that time, I really wished her facial expression changed. I would have preferred an angry face at some point. “And you’re wearing this…” She stopped mid-sentence to walk behind me and wrap her arms around me from behind. Her embrace felt so warm and pleasant. Like it was where I was meant to be. I didn’t struggle at all. I felt I should have, but I didn’t see any proper reason to. “….because how do you know whether or not you like it until you try?” She said that in a more direct tone of voice instead of a questioning one. She sounded like my mother when I refused to eat my broccoli.

Cynthia pressed something into my mouth while I was distracted by her words. A little plastic topper piece to a sippie cup. She pressed her hand under my chin to lift up my head at her preferred angle, while holding the cup up to pour a river of warm milk into my mouth. It tasted good, I won’t lie, but I didn’t want to be anymore humiliated than I already was, so I used my tongue to block the opening of the mouth piece. “You were right when you spoke up in class after Mr. Henn’s announcement. It didn’t make sense. None of this makes any sense if you think about it. Diapers wouldn’t improve anything academic directly. And having no distractions from needing to go to the bathroom would only be replaced with the distractions of what you’re feeling downstairs when you do go. I’m surprised that you were the only one to be outraged by this lack of reason to stand up and shout. Really I am. I heard and witnessed several other people mentioning similar things. But you were the only threat to all this.” She kept holding up the cup and my head, so I couldn’t speak. Cynthia must have noticed the milk’s level wasn’t dropping, because she pulled out the cup piece from my lips and unscrewed the entire top off.
“But why would-” was all I said before she took hold of my jaw and gently poured the milk into my mouth. I kept myself from drinking it by using my tongue and blocking my throat hole. But the milk kept rising and rising in my mouth. I knew I couldn’t hold it back forever.
“Why would the school’s teachers vote to enforce the policy? Why would the principal propose this change? Why would the school board allow this? Whatever questions you have, I’m sure I’ll answer them.” My mouth was filled, and she kept tilting that cup. The only way to not drink would to close my throat hole, but I had to breathe. If Cynthia had stopped there, I could’ve just held it in my mouth and breathed through my nose. But she kept adding more, and so bit by bit I began to drink. It tasted so sweet, like it wasn’t just normal warm milk. She must’ve made it special.

“The teachers didn’t enforce the policy. Only one teacher voted for it, and the rest were against it. But Mr. Henn and I counted a prepared ballot box with just enough Yes’s and No’s in it to allow the change while appearing like a good amount of the teachers didn’t want to.” Cynthia tilted the cup a great amount, pouring what was rest in the cup in me. I didn’t have to drink it anymore….but I did. I gulped down the delicious substance was more than ready to accept more. I was hoping she had more. “The principle proposed this change in the school’s dress-code, because our community was too small.” I wasn’t sure what she meant by that. Our town seemed large enough, even for a small one. Cynthia set the cup down on the floor and walked in front of me. Just as I suspected, that smile was still there. “I don’t mean “community” like houses, and schools, and neighbors. I mean a community of US.” Cynthia took hold of her jeans, unbuttoned the top and pulled them down. She was wearing a diaper too. The same kind she put on me, all white with a rainbow on the front. Her pants had dropped to the ground, and once she stepped out of the little puddle of cloth, she sat on my. Why she did so, I’m still not sure.

“In such a small town, it can get lonely being the only one with this interest. I know that once some people try one of these on, they’ll like it. When I found out Principal Henn wore adult diapers due to a bladder problem, I told him a made up story about how I have to wear them too because I don’t have any other choice, and that I come to school and go through life so embarrassed that I don’t know what I’d do if anyone found out I wore them.” Cynthia again began to stroke my head. I didn’t fight it this time though. I wanted to…. But I felt a little bit light-headed, and so I didn’t feel comfortable shaking my head around. It wasn’t the worse thing to feel. And she wasn’t hurting me. “He bought it pretty easily. And wearing them himself, he suddenly felt more embarrassed than usual. When the time was right, I told him about a little plan to make it so we weren’t the minority at this school or in this town. You were right; diapers won’t help any students here. But they won’t hurt any students either. And with diapers being mandatory, no one would be made fun of for them since everyone would wear them. Because, as I hope you know, anyone who violates the school dress-code is suspended.” Something didn’t feel right. I felt so at ease and satisfied. A little too much, actually. “And the School Board? Same reason they’d allow anything: bribery or blackmail. My plan is perfect, Terri. Everyone wins. Principal Henn feels secure, the grades and scores of the school’s students will be about the same, and I’ll get some new friends. There’s bound to be some people my age who would like these too…… Take you for example. Doesn’t this feel soft?” Cynthia pressed a hand down on the rainbow that was bonded to me. The cushioning feel felt so wonderful. My waist felt so enwrapped and my skin so pampered. I couldn’t help but let out a faint gasp of air when a wave of warmth engulfed my lower region. My face felt warm as well, once I realized what I was doing. “See? You’re smiling. And don’t think I can’t feel what you’re doing.” She said in a slightly smug, but still concerning tone. “I guess my special milk relaxed you quite a bit, huh?”

Cynthia’s hand, pushing against the fading rainbow pressed the liquid warmth against my skin. I had no choice but to feel this experience of comforting confinement to the fullest.
“Shut up…” I said as loudly as I could, which was nowhere close to my normal level of volume. Cynthia took her hand away and leaned in close. With her head hovering right next to mine, I thought this was another hug. But as I felt my wrists behind my back loosen, I realized she was letting me go. “Huh?…. What are you-”
“I only wanted you to try it. And now we know.” She got off my lap and untied my ankles. She even let out a hand to help me up. Cynthia may just be the nicest kidnapper in history. I took her hand and pulled myself up, almost falling back down immediately. “Whoa, take it easy. Your body is still a little loosey goosey.” She giggled after commenting about my body’s current state. “Hey… do you remember how I said this used to be a janitor’s closet? It’s not anymore because this room is going to be one of the storage rooms for the “Education-Enhancing-Pads”. I have one here. You can wear it if you want. If you don’t then I’ll give you back your underwear along with your pants. They’re both right outside this door.” Cynthia held up a plain, blue disposable diaper and handed it to me. The sound of the school’s bell going off was the first thing I hear once the pad was in my hand. Cynthia took hold of my shoulders and looked up at me. I didn’t realize until then that she was half a foot shorter than me. “Third period is about to start. You should change yourself before going to class. And don’t worry; I made sure you were excused for your first and second classes.”

Cynthia put on her pants and opened the door, letting in some light to the shadowy little space. She then used her foot to push in my pants and my panties. I remember when I put those on. They were my favorite pair, with those little cartoon storm clouds with cute, pouty faces on them.
“Wait a minute… so you…. Undressed me!? To the bare skin!?” Cynthia giggled awkwardly at my sudden realization.
“I’m sorry, about all of this really. But this was something I felt I had to do.” I should have slapped her across the face. I should have called the police and had her hauled off. But I didn’t do any of that.
“Just get out of here you pervert!” I screamed and pointed out the door. I felt that warm sensation over my face again as I glared once again at the strange girl. Looking at Cynthia, I saw her as a tiny bit upset. She didn’t have that smile that I assumed was everlasting. I looked down at the clean diaper in my hand and back up at what I could of her as the door began to close. “Wait…” She stopped and turned around, widening my view of her by opening the door. “Do you…… have anymore with rainbows on them?” I hated asking that. But I honestly wanted to know. Plus, seeing that annoying smile on Cynthia’s face come back sort of made it worth it, I guess.
“Oh, yeah. I do.” She reached for her backpack that was out of my view and pulled out a folded diaper with that happy rainbow on it. I took it gratefully.
“Thank you…. Don’t forget your cup.” Cynthia looked at me like she was confused, but then realized what I meant and reached down to pick up her pieces of plastic.
“I’ll talk to you later. Hurry up now, we have some work to do when you’re ready.” She left with that comforting smile on her face, and closed the door. Once she was gone, I sat down on the chair with a squish. I looked down at the happy rainbow and grinned, actually looking forward to the rest of the school year for the first time in my life.

Re: The Revolution

Chapter 5: Changing

I sat in my assigned seat, crinkling my newly strapped diaper. The teacher began to babble on about nothing while I was lost in a daze. Did all of that really just happen? Did Cynthia just come out to me as planning all of this just do find some people to share her interest? I assumed it was some sort of hallucination or lucid daydream, and that I’ve really been attending class this morning without thinking it. But every little crinkle and crackle I heard brought me back to reality. Cynthia wanted this. And she made it happen, whether or not others were curious or willing. I don’t know if that’s admirable or creepy as hell. But I did have to admit, I was a little respective towards her for actually following through with something instead of lying about and rotting away like everyone else at this school.

The school intercom knocked me out of thought. Mr. Henn was heard clearing his throat before speaking.
“Attention students and teachers, please report to the auditorium for a special assembly. Attendance is mandatory. Thank you.” I got up and out of my seat once the announcement processed in my head. I figured the more time in the assembly, the less time in class. That was all the thought I needed to instinctively get up. Although once I did, I immediately wanted to sit back down. I had no idea how noticeable my new….“fashion statement” was. I quickly looked around myself to see if anyone was seeing through me. No student looked odd, but I did by turning my head every which way. This must’ve been how Cynthia felt at every point of suspicion. I walked along with my class to the cafeteria, worrying all the way. Each sound I made was immediately known by me, but no one else. Have you ever tried walking through a house while everyone is asleep, and suddenly every noise you make sound a thousand times louder? Moments like those are the only thing I could hope to compare to this.

The classes were told to sit wherever they pleased. That being said, I sat alone in the back. None of the groups of people really looked….easy to tolerate to me. More classes came into the echoing room, and soon every attending student was prepared for whatever we were here for. Right as I saw Mr. Henn walk up to a prepared microphone in the center of the stage, Cynthia plopped down next to me.
“Hey there…” She whispered excitedly. “…are you as anxious as I am?”
“About what? I don’t even know what this is for.” I replied, not giving too much of an effort to be quite.
“Hello students. I’m sure you’re all wondering why you are here.” Mr. Henn proclaimed.
“You don’t remember? Yesterday, when it was announced what the winning vote was, Principal Henn mentioned-” Cynthia stopped mid sentence once Sarah sat down to my left and greeted me.
“Heya girl. Who you talking to?” She asked.
“I’m Cynthia…and you?” She dropped her smile a bit at the sight of Sarah. That fact alone scared me.
“Sarah. I’m Terri’s girl, huh Terri?” I turned to her, about to agree. But as I did so, I noticed Cynthia appear even more perturbed…. How do I know that word?… whatever. She looked uneasy.
“W-What? Her girl?” Cynthia asked. We probably should have been paying attention to the principal. We were missing every word he said.
“Yeah, we’ve been the bestest friends for everest since fifth grade.” Sarah added.
“Oh. Friends, huh?” She seemed a tiny bit happier just then. I wasn’t sure what to make of it. Was she bipolar?
“Yeah. Though I haven’t been a very good one. I still need to find Terri man of her own, isn’t that right?” Sarah flashed a cheeky smile at me. She knew how much talk like that bugged me.
“For the last time, stop trying to hook me up. I’m not interested in any of the guys here. They’re immature, and they can’t accomplish the simplest of tasks to save their life.”

“And that is why, students…” Principal Henn exclaimed through the speakers, a bit louder than usual, I’m guessing, to retain the lost focus of some students. “… that this new policy will be enforced. If you’ll all direct your attention to this Education-Enhancing-Pad…” He held up one of those blue and simple diapers. “…these are exactly what you’ll be wearing. They come in many sizes and go by the same sizing process as underwear. The new policy is simple: You wear these under your pants, pr shorts, or skirts or whatever when you come to school. Bathrooms will be locked up and off limits entirely. And if anyone is caught not wearing one of these during school hours, then the school nurse will personally put one on you, and your trousers of any kind will be confiscated for the rest of the day. Is that understood?” Mr. Henn really seemed prepared for this.
“Oh god, this is gonna suuuuuck.” Sarah said, almost at normal volume. “How can they do this to us? What did we do to deserve this?” I don’t know why, but I reacted to Sarah’s question.
“Well, because our scores and grades suck? So they’re desperate to try anything?” I didn’t realize it at the time, but I was basically pointing myself out as a person worth of suspicion. Sarah looked at me with a disturbed look.
“What? Well yeah, we’re doing bad. But that doesn’t mean they can do THIS. How can you be on their side? You of all people?” Cynthia took my hand in hers just then. I didn’t think much of it, really. It seemed she was being nice to her new friend.
“I think she’s just pointing a fact, Sarah. That is why they said they were doing it.” She mentioned.
“But it’s still not a good enough reason.”
“Sarah, calm down.” I said to her. “It won’t be so bad….you….might even like it.” She looked even worse at me at that claim.
“What? Why the hell would I do that? Anyone who likes to wear those things is a gross and sick freak. And don’t you dare say I’ll be like that Terri.” Cynthia tightened her grip on my hand and hung her head down. It was then that I saw why she went to great lengths for her plan.

Sarah noticed Cynthia was looking unwell, and leaned over her arm rest to close in on her.
“Hey girl, are you oka-…what are you doing?” Sarah saw Cynthia holding my hand, and pulled it off. “Girl, what are you doing? Don’t be thinking she’s like that. Terri knows which side of the fence she’s on.”
“Sarah.” I said in an annoyed tone. “That’s not what she was doing. She just….wanted a little comfort.”
“Yeah. See, she’s really upset about all the new dress-code crap. And she gets embarrassed, easy. So I’ve been helping her out and trying to cheer her up, is all.” Sarah just looked at us funny for a moment. When Cynthia nodded to confirm my statement, Sarah continued on with me.
“Is that where you were last night? Talking to her?”
“Uh….sort of.” I wasn’t lying.
A man appeared on the stage. Someone in a black suit, with a stern look on his face. He approached Mr. Henn and whispered in his ear.
“O-Okay students. Something requires my attention for the moment…” He looked worried all of a sudden. Like he was told there was a bomb in the school or something. “…You are all excused from class today. Go home, all of you.” And that didn’t help me feel any better. Mr. Henn walked away with the man who seemed to appear very serious at the time. All the students hopped up and cheered at the fact that they were set free. Like they didn’t even care that they were going to be forced into the new policy, among other things. Cynthia let go of my hand and stood up.
“I have to go. I’ll see you later, Terri.” She seemed concerned. I should have asked what was wrong. Sarah tapped her finger on my shoulder and muttered to me quietly.
“Be careful around her, Terri. Something’s up. She’s got a thing for you, and I don’t wanna see my girl being any crazy bitch’s lez-chow. She looks…” Sarah stopped flapping her mouth to sniff around a bit. “Do you smell that?”
“W-What? No, I don’t. And Sarah, she’s not crazy. And what makes you think she’s gay?”
“Well she’s liking being so close to you after just meeting you. And she looked a little disappointed when she got up and left. Look, I don’t mind if you’re on that side of the fence-”
“Sarah!” I yelled right in her face
“All I’m saying is don’t get anyone too clingy or too fast. Okay? I’m gonna go see if Mike’s got any plans for the day. I’ll see you later.” Sarah walked away to spend some time with her boyfriend of the week, and I just grabbed my bag with the intent of heading home.

At my locker, I pulled out my science book and put it in my bag. It always annoyed me that the cover of the book had smiling kids staring at magnets, because you just know that there is no chance of any student actually being amazed to see magnets stick. If they were going to stage a picture, they could at least stage a convincible one. I heard the sound of footsteps to my right, echo and bounce all about in the hallways. I looked out of curiosity, and saw Cynthia, alone and coming towards me.
“Oh hey, what’s up? Why are you still here? Forget your homework too?” I asked to her before she was within five feet of me. She still had that look, but even worse. She looked as though she lost something, or someone. “Are you okay? You seem down.” She nodded her head a bit, and walked closer. She didn’t say a thing at first; it scared me more than seeing her in front of me while I was bound to a chair.
“Terri….” I closed the locker door and picked up my bag as I faced her.
“Can um… we… spend a little time together today? I think I could use a pick-me-up.”
“What? Why? What happened?” Her head jumped up a little as she answered, I could see her eyes were a little red.
“Nothing!…I mean, nothing. Please Terri?” I couldn’t bear to say no, and it’s not like I had anything else to do for the rest of the day. I gave a little sigh and took a step towards her with my arms open. I wrapped my arms around her a little tightly and snug.
“I will if you do me a favor.” I purposed.
“Yeah sure, what?” I hesitated a bit, unable to really ask what I wanted to. I didn’t have much experience talking or asking things like this yet.
“Can I have another one of those rainbow ones? I…really, like them.” I lowered my face into her shoulder out of embarrassment like I just asked my parents or something, even if only Cynthia and I were there. She giggled a little under her breath and hugged me back.
“You can have as many as you’d like, Terri.”

After I changed in the bathroom (or the soon-to-be changing room), we walked towards and out the school’s front door. Before the sun light had a chance to hit us, Cynthia took my hand again and leaned her head onto my shoulder. She seemed so upset, I didn’t mind letting her do what she needed to brighten up. On our way down the steps, I saw Mr. Henn and that black-suited man, as well as a few policemen with their cars parked and flashing. I didn’t know what they were concerned about, other than the fact that it probably had something to do with the school’s new dress-code. I didn’t care though; I just wanted to see Cynthia smile again. It was all I could think about. I decided to walk Cynthia to a nearby Ice-cream shop, hoping it would help. As I did so, Sarah’s words played back again and again in my head. Maybe Cynthia was on that side of the fence. And she did say she was lonely because of her interest. I never really considered myself dating another girl. Not that it bothered me, I just didn’t. But I guess it wouldn’t to try something new. That brisk noise being made under my jeans was a testament to that.

Re: The Revolution

The Revolution: Epilogue

Cynthia and I were only friends for about a day or so. Maybe we weren’t ever friends when I think about it. Even if there was a time when we were, we were also something at least a little bit more that was worth mentioning. Cynthia and I went to the ice cream shop like I mentioned earlier, but it didn’t stop there. After we did, we felt like catching a movie and hanging out afterwards. She refused to tell me what was bothering her earlier, but I found out the next day. The fixed voting and about half of the “persuasion tactics” to get the board members to over look a few things had been discovered. Mr. Henn lost his job and the new school policy was thrown away before anyone got a chance to wear their new Education-Enhancing-Pads.

I’m not sure what she was upset about, that no one else would wear diapers like she wanted, or that what she did got a man, who only wanted to help, fired. Either way, she was happy enough to smile more than anyone else would in three lifetimes. She was a naturally cheery person, and any day she had anything less than a smile was a bad one for me. She always cheered me up and I always comforted her when she felt ashamed for her (our) interest. We just fit together. I guess that’s why it was so easy to get down on one knee for her.

It’s been seven years since the whole dress-code hoopla, and I’ve never felt happier than when I’m with her. We even have a child now. We went to a clinic and used some donated sperm. She wanted me to use it, but I insisted our child have a part of her. Her name is Haley, and she’s four years old. We decided not to potty train her until she’s older and can decide for herself if she really wants to be or not. So far, she seems to have her Mother’s fascinations.

The event at Grennlee High changed many relationships. A few people had fights. Some respected each other more. Even some people lost their friends once they moved away at the beginning of the whole ordeal. It was all so frustrating to the unlucky few, but nowhere near as frustrating as the school year after that for Cynthia and I, but that’s another story. In the end, Cynthia got what she wanted. She didn’t want to be alone. And now she never will be, so long as I can help it.