Whatever Happened to Crystal Jones?

Whatever Happened to Crystal Jones?

By Adobeman10




Crystal smiled as the camera flashed yet again, “Beautiful Crystal; keep it up.”  She turned her head and smiled and kept the poses coming.  She squeezed her Large Enhanced E-Cup boobs together as she watched the Camera man smile behind the camera.  Even a professional could not help but drool when she squeezed these puppies together.


Crystal was always known as one of the best ‘unknown’ models in the world.  Anyone could pick her face out; but she was constantly changing her style.  When she started she had blonde and now auburn-she would sometimes go with her natural black style hair-but she was a denier when it came to her heritage.  Half Philipino and half hispanic-she was an exotic beauty that most magazines wanted.  But given her diminutive size 4’10 at her best, she found herself constantly being mistaken for a child instead of an adult of 23 years.  She did her best to try and change and being recognized as an actual adult.


Breast Implants, Butt Implants, Collegen, and she even ‘narrowed’ her eyes more to give her a more ‘exotic’ look.  Now with photoshop and fish eye lens cameras it made her look taller and much more adult than ever before.  She pushed her boobs out for the last take making her all too small swimsuit bust out in the process.  The Cameraman nearly dropped his camera in the process; but Crystal knew what she was doing and she loved the attention she knew she caused.



These photos were going directly back to the states and soon she would be boarding a private plane on a sort of victory tour for her next step in life-the sky was only the limits.


“Ouch,” Crystal said as she finally discarded her high heels on the sandy beach.  Behind her the smoke and fire of the crashed plane scorched the sky behind her.  It was a miracle that she managed to walk away from such a wreckage-others weren't so lucky.  Her dress was torn, her stomach hurt and she had cuts and bruises all over.  But she was alive-thats what mattered most.


She looked around at the island; it was unlike anything she had seen before-She was taking pictures in the south pacific so it could’ve been any number of islands in the area.  She could be the only person on the island for all she knew.  It wasn't a good thought-she had grown up quite wealthy and was unaccustomed to even feeding herself without room service.  This would be quite tough.


She grabbed her chest and her butt and felt the pain that seemed to push out from them.  Had she ruptured her implants?  That would be awful, she was unknown miles from any medical care that could help her.  Fortunately she knew that if her implants did rupture-then the saline inside would discharge through her body and she would expunge it as waste.  She could always get the implants fixed later, but at least her health wouldn't be at risk.  Hopefully she had no internal bleeding and that was the end of it.


She kept walking along the beach for what seemed like hours, and never come across anyone or anything else.  Just undisturbed beach areas-sort of a secluded oasis.  Really nice, but didn't really help her at the moment.


She knew night was coming and she should get to at least some sort of shelter.  She quickly made her way back to the plane area and sat beneath some of the wing.  The fires still burned but had calmed in the main area of the crash.  At the very least she would be ok for one evening-hopefully someone would still be looking for her.


The next morning Crystal woke, she looked around as the plane was now completely extinguished with just faint smoke trails. She saw how far the wreck spread-over most of the beach area with small pieces of metal everywhere.  Oww… she though, she leaned over and looked at her breasts. The formerly very round pert mounds that jutted from her chest were noticeably smaller-like they had reduced in size from an E down to a small D.  She definitely ruptured the implants with the stressful landing and impact.  She bent over to her ass and noticed the significant size reduction as well.  Damn, she thought, this was just one problem added after another.


Her tight red dress was nothing but tatters falling off of her body, without a bra or underwear-she was totally naked with the strands of clothes hanging off of her.  She had to find some sort of clothing to wear; she couldn't wait for a rescue like this.  She tried seeing if there was some sort of clothing in the boxes that survived.  She opened one and found what looked to be books.  Really, a lot of good books would do her in this situation.  She couldn't find any of her clothes, but the plane did have a lot of boxes on it for shipment. / She opened another and found cases and cases of Baby food!  She opened another and found shipments and shipments of toddler and kids clothes./  This must have been meant for a young kids store.  But she was starving and any food would’ve been a welcome sight.  She quickly scarfed down the Banana’s and then Peas, and 5 different brands before she finally felt full.  As a model she had trained herself to avoid all high in content fatty foods and pleasure eatings.  But she had survived a plane crash on an island.  She needed the welcome relief food gave.




She burped loud and rubbed her stomach as it protruded out more than usual.  She had a slight full stomach on her normally flat belly.  She relaxed and fell asleep after the large meal.




She woke up again and it was daylight?  Had she slept through the whole night til the next morning?  She must’ve.  She looked down at her boobs and they had deflated more through the night-she was barely a B-cup now.  Her boobs though large, her nipples were very tiny and they looked much more apt for her current size than the melons that she had before.  Her butt was deflating even more and barely was a shadow of its former self.  But her stomach almost pooched out a bit.  What the fuck, was it the baby food?


She swore to stay off of the food until she was rescued-that oath lasted all of 30 minutes before she was digging into the food again.  She ate nearly twice as much as the day before-at the end of it, she decided to explore a little bit more of the island.  She opened up the kids clothes and shuddered at the petite dresses and frilly lace that they all had on them.  Ugh she shuddered and didn't want to wear them, but it wasn't as if she had a choice.  She reluctantly put them on and was quite saddened to see how well they fit, even worse to see there was a little extra room in them as well.  She then proceeded to walk interior to the jungle, she padded her feet with some of the clothes and was able to see a lot of the island.  She even came across a lagoon-she laughed-she needed a bath not in sea water and her liquid problem was solved.  She quickly discarded her clothes and jumped in the water-oh how refreshing it felt.  The water tingled her all on her insides as well.  It felt soooooo good.  she swallowed as much as she could, then fell asleep sunning herself on the rocks.


The day passed, and Crystal became to feel despondent that she could be here a while.  She had to get more comfortable with a long term plan.  Her hair was long and sweaty and she figured she would be better cutting it off before it got too tangled with spiders and other jungle debris-a fear that she had gained watching a movie one time.  She didn't really have any scissors or anything, but she had a very sharp piece of metal.  She had to get tough she knew.  So she cut the excess ends off and gave herself a /nice little spiky hair-cut./  It could look cute-if she had it styled, but looked like a refugee type of look.  She knew she shouldn't stray too far away from the water or the plane as those were her main sources of rescue and survival right now.




The next morning Crystal woke up and rubbed her chest with her elbow; she quickly woke up when she realized how hard it felt.  She sat up and rubbed her chest with both her hands-her fear was realized.  She was now completely flat chested.  Two little nipples poked out from her chest and she allowed herself a momentary tear.  She had always prided herself on her large enhanced boobs.  She looked down at her once prodigious rear-same results.  Instead of the very curvy butt that threatened seams of pants-she now had a flat bony butt of a teen.  As if it couldn't be worse, her stomach protruded just a bit over her waist like a tiny little pot belly.  She couldn't have eaten that much could she?




Crystal spent the next part of the day putting together a shelter and putting her food together in safe spots.  The dresses fit better than ever without her buxom boobs and bodacious butt.  If no one knew her, she would look every bit the young girl and not the curvy Nicki Minaj type model she spent her years working towards.  This could all be fixed as soon as she got rescued.  If… She got rescued.


Crystal went about her daily routine and made sure she got enough food and water and when all was said and done-she went back to the lagoon to relax.  Something about the tingling and the waters eerie glow that just felt so good and relaxing.  She was falling asleep in the water when she heard the rustling from the woods.  She quickly got up and looked around for her clothes-but couldn't find them anywhere; she panicked and went and hid behind the rocky outcropping.  She was still hiding when she was grabbed from behind, she struggled and panicked-she turned and saw the face of the person-behind a clear tinted yellow plastic suit.  She froze when two other similarly clad in Yellow Suits that clearly marked-radiation-danger came out of the jungle.  What was going on?  She was going to run until her world went black.








Crystal woke up in a clear plastic room, plastic sheeting was all around her.  She had a bed a table and she was wearing this small white dress.  She was confused and agitated.  She was just in the jungle-how did she get here.


“Please be calm,” She heard a voice that was very distorted from someone who was Chinese from the loudspeaker, “You are in a medical treatment center”


“Where am I?” She asked to the ceiling not knowing where the person that addressed her was.


“Haku Research Center,” The response. “We found the wreckage, you had gone down on Teunu Island-Teunu Island was the site of some nuclear testing in the 50’s.  You have mild radiation poisoning-our researchers had to remove you before your condition worsened.”


Crystal started to panic, Nuclear? That was never good, “Am I going to die?”


“No, we got you in time and it has been a half century since the last testing.  There is mild radiation and you will experience some of the effects-but none are long-lasting and you did not experience a high enough stay or dosage.  We will have to treat you for the next couple weeks-it wont be easy, but you should be ok.  What is your name child?”


Crystal looked down at her body, she did look like a small child-no boobs or butt to speak of.  Her diminutive size and youthful features-she couldn't look any more than a child of age 14 or more. (though she realistically looked between 10-12).  She knew she couldn't have anyone recognize her, for the rest of her life she would be identified as the model who looked like a kid.  She knew she had to lie, and fix things later.  “My name is Chien, my parents were on the plane and they didn't make it”  In the back of her mind she knew she sort of looked Chinese and might be able to pass herself off as it-Her parents were long-gone, so technically it wasn't a lie.


“Okay Chien, we will need to start treatment-you will need to cooperate”


Crystal nodded.


The next few hours were somewhat of a blur-All of her caretakers wore radiation suits and she could barely identify one form the other.  The worst was first, She was taken to a room and her hair was shaved off entirely.  She at first protested, but she had to cooperate.  She cried as she saw what was left of her hair fall in strands at her feet. They scrubbed her bald head clean with some chemicals; it burned but she just held in the pain.


Next they took her to this industrial Shower area, and she was covered in chemicals and the hard shower poured into her.  She was in that shower for what had to be like an hour.  They kept mixing the chemicals with the shower water-she would feel burning, then cooling, then burning again.  When it was all done, her skin was just red from the treatment, she had been scoured with chemicals.


The last treatment was this oral wash they did to her mouth-she had to ingest this nasty fluid that tasted horrible-They then scoured her mouth with this laser type of treatments all around her gums.


At the end of it all, she was exhausted-The day was over and she fell right to sleep in her bunk.  Her body had been stressed to the limits-but she was hopefully cleared of all radiation poisioning.


She ended up staying in her bed for about a week straight-she felt too weak to even get up, she was so delirious and tired from the injections and treatments that she couldn't even move.  She was hooked up to catheters and IV’s and various other machines.  It was all a delirious blur.




It could’ve been one week or two; but the day finally came when she felt better; she woke up and was able to stand out of bed.  But when she came to the mirror in the room, she wished she was still in bed and that it was all some sort of terrible nightmare.


Her mouth dropped open, she couldn't even believe what she was looking at in the mirror! / Her skin was no longer a nice brown tan-instead it was white-Ghostly white!  As if all pigmentation had been removed from it!  Her head was as round as a cueball-it shined and her eyebrow less face belied the whole expression of shock.  She looked shorter, even shorter than her 4’10 exaggerated hight of before. / Tears came to her eyes, as she couldn't recognize the girl/woman in front of her.


At that moment a tall chinese man in scrubs entered the room, his English was flawed; but he spoke quite succinctly and to the point.  It was the first person Crystal had seen in weeks that had not been in a radiation suit. “How is the Patient today?”


Crystal turned to the doctor stunned, “What the fuck did you do?!”


The Doctor’s eyebrows arched, “Language child, or you will be disciplined.”


Crystal paused for a moment and  composed herself.  “Sorry”


The Doctor went to Crystal and started doing a physical examination, “Your Radiation poisoning has been treated and you are now in the clear.  Your hair had to be removed for the trace flaking that had rad levels.  It has been scoured, it will not grow back-but there are many other options such as wigs.  Your bones were weakened and may have contracted in density a bit, so you may have lost a few inches of height and mass.  Your skin has been treated and all skin levels of rad have been removed.  The last part is,” And he reached in her mouth and simply plucked out her front tooth.  “the teeth have been weakened and can now be plucked from for the last of radiation treatement.”


Crystals hands went right to her mouth in shock at the ease of which the doctor was able to remove the teeth.  She hesitated and then reached in her mouth and began to pull the other teeth with the same ease and shock.  She panicked and pulled them all out with the ease that she couldn't believe.  She moved her tongue around her gummed mouth- not a trace of teeth remained in her mouth.  “My Teeph” She said with tears flowing down her cheeks.




“Do not worry child, You are alive-and as a ward of the state-you will be taken care of and placed into a home to be raised”  The doctor said quite calmly.


Crystal was then escorted into another area where this large tank of a woman Grabbed her and put her on her back naked on a table.  Crystal tried to protest, but though the woman spoke no English, her intent was clear and she wouldn't be stopped from her task.


Crystals eyes teared up again as she felt the plastic crinkle of diapers placed over her hips. Her hips that had once been encased in the hottest of silk panties now were enclosed in this plastic Crunkly prison.  The woman then stood her up and put over this tight fitting T-shirt.  It was then followed by white knee high socks, black mary jane shoes./  A Auburn red skirt, and Blue blazer. / She then produced a wig and placed it over Crystals head.  Crystal welcomed the feeling of hair on her head again.  Even though it was a Black Bowl cut of hair.  The lady then began to pull out eyebrow pencils and hastily began to do marks on Crystals forehead.  When it was all done, she smiled for the first time and pulled a large mirror over for Crystal to see.




For the second time today, Crystals mouth dropped open-She didn't recognize the person standing before her.  With the pasty white skin-even shorter height and /bowl cut hair-/She looked every bit the Chinese Grade-school child they thought she was.  The buxom curvy model was not even a shadow of what was before her.


She barely had time to absorb her changes, before the large woman took her forcefully by the hand and took her to the office-“Time for new home”


Crystal suddenly realized what that meant, what the doctor had said-A New home?  Ward of the state?  She was going to a Chinese adoption Center!  She would not get to leave and go back to the states! “Wait, Im not a child!  My Name is Crystal Jones! I am an American Supermodel!  This is all a mistake!”


The nurse was deaf to her cries as she was nothing but a whiny child.


“Wait!  Stop!  Im not a Child!  Im not a Child!!”  She screamed as the double doors closed behind her.




EPILOGUE


Crystal/Chien huffed and puffed as she walked down the street to her class.  It had been three years since she was placed in a foster home and enrolled in the Chinese equivalent of third grade.  Many changes had happened-Her hair had never grown back, but she now had two separate wigs she could switch on and off with.  Her once bony body had ballooned up in her stomach, thighs, arms, and face.  With the high starch foods and her inability to eat solid foods-she consoled herself by eating and eating and… eating.  The result on the 4’5 woman was a very chubby looking child.  She was teased for her weight, height, and kids even stole her wig and called her names with the bald head.  It was very tough for this former supermodel who grew up as the popular hot girl in her class-to grow up to an adult only to be forced to start over again in a foreign country as a short chubby child was very difficult.


As she ran down the street and huffing, she saw it out of the corner of her eye at the magazine stand.  She suddenly stopped and trudged over and saw the magazine.  It had been translated to Chinese; but Crystal could read the cover and the boldface type.  “Whatever happened to Crystal Jones?”  with her last photoshoot with her buxom body in the tightest bikini on her flawless toned skin.  Chien could only sit there and just think in stunned silence. How did it come to this…



THE END

TOY STORY

TOY STORY

By Hal


Melissa looked up from her desk at the sound of the
diffident knock on her office door.
"Ms. Duncan," said a burly man from the plant floor, "we
have the doll mock-up just outside. May we bring it in?..."
Melissa looked up and adjusted her expensive designer glasses.
She gave a curt nod and rose from her desk. She caught a glance
of herself in the mirror on the wall. A petite young woman in an
expensive business pant suit looked back at her. Her styled blond
hair was pulled back from her face, and held up in a professional
bun. She looked every inch the rising young executive.
She frowned as the men brought the life sized mock-up of
the "Brandy" doll into her office. Supposedly, this doll was the
next big project for the company. Certainly, the board of
directors had high hopes. It was all part of the "retro" phase
the country was going through. "Back to the Fifties" was the
popular slogan. Little girls were supposedly tired of playing
with toy trucks and action figures and wanted their traditional
dolls back. Or so said the polling data. To that end, the company
had developed the doll and was now busily engaged in rolling out
the new product. Melissa sighed. It had been a busy week.
She looked at the doll with distaste. It was dressed in a
frilly little girl outfit consisting of a ridiculously short pale
blue dress that flared dramatically at the crotch, allowing a
generous view of the plain white cotton panties. It also had
white ankle socks and black patent mary jane shoes. This was so
offensive, she thought. It re-enforced every negative stereotype
about young girls. How could a young girl be expected to compete
with a young boy when she had to be concerned about her
underpants showing with every step?. It was a testament to
Melissa's mind set that she never considered the possibility that
perhaps young girls SHOULDN'T compete with boys.
What really made her angry was the fact that the company was
having a contest to recruit a child actor to appear with the doll
in a planned series of commercials.



At this very moment, the company reception hall was filled with
hundreds of little girls ages 6 to 10 dressed like Shirley Temple.
And all of them hoping to snag the contract and launch a show
business career. She had seen them on her way up to the office this
morning. Why, even her 10 year old cousin was there somewhere
with her Aunt. Melissa had to grin. While she disapproved of the
doll and the contest on the grounds that it was sexist, her little
cousin was a brat.

It would do her good to be humiliated by being forced to dress up
like a little girl. She was looking forward to seeing young Suzy
in her short dress and mary janes. But first things first, she
thought. As an Assistant Product Manager, she had to do an
inspection report before the doll could go down to the hall.
The men set the doll down and then carried in a large box.
Melissa could see that it contained the accessories for the
product, including the make-up. She almost did a double take as
she noticed that the box contained what could only be adult sized
disposable diapers. That's right, she thought. There's going to
be a baby version of this doll. She shuddered at the thought of
being encased tightly in a disposable diaper. Melissa shook her
head as if to clear it. What an odd thought, she told herself. As
if SHE would ever wear a diaper again. Preposterous!
As the men finished their task and left, Melissa walked over
to her office door and locked it. She didn't want to be
disturbed. She stopped halfway back to her desk and glanced at
the mirror on the wall and took stock of herself. She looked
young, but the conservative make-up, dark suit, and glasses gave
her an air of quiet authority. Melissa stood there and silently
reflected on the circumstances that had brought her to this
juncture in her career-- one short step away from being a full
Product Manager for a major, multi-national toy corporation.
She had started hanging around at the plant at age eight,
helping her father who was an executive with the company. At 10,
she was running errands and helping to deliver the corporate
mail. At 13, she started her first job, working after school in
the accounting department. She had graduated high school early,
and went on to finish college in the same manner. Obtaining her
degree in business at 20, she had already been an intern for two
years. Her first official position after college had been as a
marketing assistant. By then, however, she had over 10 years
experience working in the toy industry. That, combined with
family connections, had allowed her to rise rapidly in the
company hierarchy.
She adjusted her expensive blazer. Her creme silk blouse
peeked seductively out, and Melissa once again congratulated
herself on her fashion sense. Being and looking young in the toy
industry was not a handicap, she thought. However, she had to be
taken seriously by the other executives. She was short, standing
only 5'2" in her stocking feet. She weighed in at a trim 106
pounds. Her breasts were small, but her push-up bra made the most
of this shortcoming. People were always describing her as
"elvish" looking, with her small, delicate features giving her an
innocent, child like quality.
Expensive business suits, heels for height, a proper
hairstyle, and stylish glasses for a more mature look had
corrected these perceptions, and Melissa was smugly satisfied.
From her tailored jacket to her pumps, from her push-up bra to
her expensive pantyhose, she looked every inch the powerful young
corporate executive.
Turning away from the mirror, she looked at the doll. She
frowned again at the ridiculous dress, the childish underpants.
The little voice inside her head that served as her muse woke and
said,


What's the matter miss corporate executive, never seen how a
proper little girl is dressed?




Melissa looked at the doll again. It seemed as if it were
the doll who spoke. She knew she was projecting, but these types
of mental arguments sometimes helped her sort things out. They
allowed her to make sound decisions, business and otherwise.
Looking the doll in the eyes, holding silent discourse with
herself, Melissa could swear she heard the doll answer her back.



Yeah, sound business decisions. Whatever. It comes down to
jealousy, doesn't it? Oh you can pat yourself on the back about
your accomplishments, but YOU never had a dress like this. You
never had the time for childhood. Always acting the little adult.
Never played with dolls. Never had a carefree moment...



That's not true!, Melissa silently told the doll. I didn't miss
out on anything! I never had time for those stupid frilly little
dresses and those childish tea parties. I never wanted to be some
helpless little girl. I wanted to be in control, respected--and
I've achieved that!
On a whim, she slipped off her blazer and draped it over the
back of her chair. Crossing the room to the mirror, she gazed
with satisfaction at her trim form. She worked hard at staying in
shape, and enjoyed flaunting her hard work. Which was why the
pants of her suit were slighter tighter than what current
fashions dictated. She placed her hands on her ass, feeling the
expensive wool material stretched tauntly across her curves. As
her hands traveled across the expanse of firm behind, she turned
to one side to get a better view. She frowned as she noticed the
lines of her underpants marring her smooth look.
"Damn it!", she cursed out loud.



Typical. That's what happens when a child gets into her mother's
things and tries to wear them. HAH! The always fashionable
Melissa has panty lines! Just a little girl walking around with
her underwear showing, despite wearing a grown up pant suit! some
things never change!


Melissa ignored the inner voice. She hated panty lines!
aside from being a major fashion faux pas, they indicated to the
watching world the nature of her underwear. From these vital
clues, any stranger might deduce the nature and type of her
underpants. Along with seeing her pantyhosed ankles peeking out
from under her pants, any geek might get a good mental picture of
her most intimate apparel-- something that only she was supposed
to know! Melissa bit her lip. It was her own fault for being so
careless. Fashion dictated that she wear panties with less
defined edges, or perhaps even a thong. However, she despised
thongs, even more than pantylines. Too, she had another reason
for wearing fuller cut panties. Her ass, while firm, was slightly
flat and boyish. She therefore wore a shaping panty that "lifted
and defined" her bottom to a more aesthetically pleasing shape.
The effect was dramatic, and no one looking at the panties could
ever tell they were a shaping garment. It was the same with her
bra, which was slightly padded to make her breasts appear
marginally fuller. While the underwear served its purpose,
Melissa didn't like to be reminded that her slightly under-
developed figure needed a little help. After all, current
ideology stated that a young, modern women needed no
enhancements-- that she was happy with the figure nature had
given her. Of course, Melissa reflected, that view was for the
talk shows and armchair psychologists. In private, the young
modern women wanted every advantage she could get. Melissa
frowned. No matter how she tried to rationalize it, she was still
forced to wear "figure control" garments-- she would be
humiliated if anyone found out! why, it would fall into the same
class as wearing an ugly girdle under her sleek suits.


Fat chance of that, said the doll. You need a girdle only if you
have curves. You're flat chested and flat assed, and without your
special underwear you have the figure of a little girl. Oh, they
look like a regular bra and panty set, but we know different,
don't we?





"Oh, shut up", said Melissa aloud, slightly flushing. She
frowned again at her pantylines. She would have do something
about them. It wouldn't do to go running around with her
underpants showing, even in so indirect a fashion. She glanced
around and spied the package of disposable diapers. How horrible
they looked. She tried to imagine what it would feel like to wear
them-- how would she look with her ass in diapers? she was used
to silk and satin next to her most private places. To be taped up
in a paper and plastic diaper was almost inconceivable. Yet she
was curious. To actually wear it was unthinkable, but might there
be a way to experience it all the same? With a grin she kicked
off her shoes and stood barefoot in stockings on the plush
carpet. She opened the package. Unfolding a diaper, she sat her
tight panted bottom down in the center and brought it up between
her legs. She fastened one side and then the other. Trembling
with excitement, she stood up and looked in the mirror to admire
her handiwork.
She was in diapers! Well, not really, she thought. She was
wearing a diaper over her tight pants. She felt the snugness and
pressure between her legs but her ass was still encased by her
silken panties, pantyhose, and the expensive fine wool cashmere
of her tailored pants. She turned sideways and looked at herself.
The diaper was bulky, and her bottom looked huge with the
additional padding.
"No need for additional padding now," she said aloud. She
placed both hands on her bottom, feeling the thick plastic shell.
It was strange, Melissa thought. It almost felt like the diaper
was molding itself to her ass, trying to get through the thin
layers of adult material and grip her bare flesh in its hot and
sticky plastic embrace.




That's just what it should do, said the doll. Why don't you just
get it over with and end your adult charade. Take of those silly,
adult clothes that you have no business wearing. Look how
ridiculous you are-- standing there in your grown up powersuit
with a diaper taped on over your pants. Then again, even without
the diaper, you still look ridiculous Typical Melissa. No sense
of adventure or fun. Always doing both in half measures. You
can't even try on a diaper without hedging your bets.



Melissa frowned. What was she doing?. How could she be standing
her wearing a diaper in her own office? She unfastened the tapes
and threw the diaper off to the side. She stepped back into her
pumps. She smoothed her slacks down, touching her taunt and now
un-diapered ass once again. She was furious at herself. The inner
voice was right. She was a little up-tight. On the heels of this
thought came another, NO!-- I'm as bold as the next girl. I
wouldn't want to be anyone or anywhere else. I have real power
now.


OH please! you saw those little girls today at the competition.
They were having fun. They had no responsibilities, no pressures,
no deadlines. Admit it, some part of you was jealous.



So what?, Melissa told herself silently. I'm a busy executive.
Sometimes the job gets on my nerves. It's only natural to want to
blow of some steam.




Sure, Sure. besides, YOU could never pull this look off. You
wouldn't even know how to walk properly. You couldn't compete
with those young girls, they're much too innocent and young.
Besides, they're prettier.


I could to compete with them! Melissa told herself. What was she
thinking? She was 23 years old, an adult with a responsible
position. She was once again secure in her in fashionable
business clothes. So why would she even consider having to
compete with little girls?




That's right. You keep telling yourself that. You're too prim and
proper, to uptight to give in to a little harmless fun. You
wouldn't know fun and adventure if it walked up and bit you.
Besides, you're not cute enough to wear a dress like this...





"Alright then," said Melissa aloud to the silently mocking doll,
"I'll show you whose cute and adventuresome enough!". She kicked
off her high heels and stood barefoot in stockings in her office.
Her face was flushed. Her breathing fast. She was furious at
herself, yet sexually charged. She rarely gave in to her sexual
appetites, but what could it harm? She was alone in her office.
The department was shut down, and everyone was at the
festivities. She was tense, overtired by working long hours. An
hour or so of fun, topped of by a pleasant orgasm couldn't hurt.
She stalked barefoot in pantyhose around her office. Her
door was locked, and she knew the outer office which was her
secretary's was also locked. Making her decision, Melissa looked
triumphantly at the silent doll. With a tight smile, she undid
her snug trousers and let them fall to the floor. The overhead
lights danced off her coffee colored pantyhose legs. Stepping out
of her pants, she glanced in the mirror. Her silk blouse was
short, and her delicate, lacy white underpants peeked out from
under the smooth pantyhose. She let her hands trail over her
nyloned lower form, caressing her sleekly nyloned ass and thighs.
Her hands wandered to her tightly encased center, and she
shuddered in pleasure. Not so fast, she told herself. She undid
her blouse and added it to the growing collection of clothing on
the floor.


Pretty grown up undies for a girl your age, don't you think?
You'll get a spanking by mom if she catches you...




Melissa started at the inner voice, and turned in her big girl
underwear towards the silently mocking doll.

I'm a grown-up, she told herself. I'm allowed to wear pantyhose
and silken underpants.




Not if I have anything to say about it, child. Enjoy playing
grown-up while you can, little girl. I'm going to take away
mommy's grown up underwear from you. Little girls don't wear
pantyhose and push up bra's young miss. If you haven't got the
equipment for the garments, perhaps you shouldn't wear them...




Melissa ignored the voice, and went towards the box with the
cosmetics. The "Brandy" doll had a simple, wash in/out hair color
shampoo, and she felt the effect of her playing dress up would be
enhanced with a different hair color. She frequently worked out
in her office on the stairmaster in the corner, and it was not
unknown for her to leave the office with damp hair from a shower.
She grabbed a tube of the brown shampoo and headed towards her
office bathroom, one of the perks of her executive status. She
spent several minutes removing her jewelry and then removed her
light make-up.
In the overhead light starring in the bathroom mirror,
Melissa saw that she looked much younger without her glasses and
tasteful make-up. Too, she was reduced to running around in her
underwear, and didn't have her executive pant suit to hide
behind. Standing in her pantyhose and silken underpants, the push
up bra wearing young executive undid her blond hair and shook it
out. She was proud of her shoulder length locks, and took great
pains to care for it. She took a breath and plunged her head into
the sink, fully wetting her hair. She applied the shampoo and was
soon rinsing it out.
She towled dried her hair as best she could and looked at
her handiwork. The color was not very impressive, she thought. It
was a dull, medium brown. The shine was gone, and her hair
appeared lifeless. Well, she thought, it washes right out. I can
have my own beautiful hair back in minutes. She next tied her
damp locks into two pigtails, and let the front part in the
middle, giving her bangs. This simple change in hairstyle reduced
her appearance by many years.
"WOW," she said aloud. "Who would have believed it?". It now
seemed to Melissa that the adult underwear she was wearing was
all wrong. Minutes ago, anyone seeing the young executive in such
a state of undress would have had serious pause to stop and
reflect on such a lovely young vision. Now however, they would
probably just scold the obvious little girl for wearing her
mother's lingerie.
Feeling more naughty by the minute, the now geeky looking
Melissa came back out into the office and stood in her grown up
underpants in front of the doll.




You're dressed a little strange for such a little girl, don't you
think?




"I'm NOT a little girl!...", said Melissa out loud to the empty
office.


Cute pigtails


"I'll show you!"... said Melissa. Walking over to the doll,
Melissa unzipped the dress and pulled it down. She then tipped it
over until it rested partly on her office couch. Working quickly,
she stripped off the mock up of dress, ankle socks, maryjanes,
underpants, and vest.

After obtaining the garments, Melissa then removed her bra. She
jerked her panties and pantyhose down in one quick motion and
freed her legs from the tangled material. She threw the garments
in a twisted pile on top of the rest of her grown up clothes.
Before she could change her mind, she drew the childish cotton
panties up her thin legs. She gasped as the panties seemed to
swallow up her middle in the thick with material.
"These are almost like training panties!", she said aloud.
Next, she donned the vest, frowning at the way it flattened her
chest. Next, she put on the ankle socks and mary janes. She saw
herself in her little girl underwear and stopped short.
"OH my, what HAPPENED to me?" In this outfit, with mousy
brown hair, she looked like a little girl, a geek! She stepped
into the dress and zipped it up. The transformation was complete!
she had traded in her executive pant suit for a little girl's
party dress! Her pumps had been replaced by mary janes, and her
wonderful pantyhose had been transformed into ankle socks!
Melissa stood there in shock, looking at the skinny, bare legged
geeky girl with mousy brown hair with her underpants showing.
Melissa turned slightly to the side, noticing how short the dress
was. Her ass had become flat and boring. STanding completely
still, the crotch of her cotton panties were visible. Turning
around and looking over her shoulder, she saw with dismay that
the short dress didn't even cover a third of her underpants. She
tried to tug the short dress down, but it didn't seem to help.
Turning again, Melissa noticed how skinny and bare her legs
looked without her pumps and pantyhose. Dressed like this and
without make-up, her hair in pigtails, she looked like she about
9.
"I'm a little girl again...", she said aloud.



You look so adorable, baby. Cute underpants. Not such a big,
powerful executive now, are you?


Melissa looked over at the now naked doll. Suddenly, she had an
idea. It would be exciting to see the contrast between her adult
self and the little girl who now stood in her place. She grabbed
her grown up panties and pantyhose and put them on the doll. The
bra quickly followed. Next, she dressed it in her executive pant
suit and blouse. The finishing touch were the high heels.
Positioning the doll in front of the mirror, Melissa stood next
to it.

She gasped again. She and the doll had traded places! now
she was the dorky little girl with her underpants on display
while the doll was the grown up executive! Melissa felt a strange
impulse overtake her. As if to acknowledge her new status as a
child, she place an index finger under her chin. Her other hand
grasped the edge of her dress. She crossed her feet and as she
did she, she curtsied, bending her knees.



That's right, little girl. Now I'M the adult. You're just a
helpless, ineffectual little girl who can't even stop her panties
from showing. You're no longer an adult. You have no grown up
privileges I'm now the grown up, powerful executive and YOU"RE
the child! I think it's bedtime for you, little girl!


Melissa was speechless. She was no longer a career woman in
a chic power suit. Her self image as calm, professional adult was
crushed. The phone rang, interrupting her thoughts. She took
three short steps in her baby doll dress, trying in vain to keep
her dress down and her underpants hidden. She was only half aware
that she was doing this. She picked up the phone.
"What!", she practically barked.
"Uhhhh, Ms. Duncan, This is Gene Robbins down on the plant
floor. Mr. Johnson wants the doll brought down to viewing hall.
I've detailed two men to from maintenance to come by your office
and pick it up. They've got a pass key from security, but I
wanted to make sure they wouldn't disturb you, which is why I'm
calling..." Melissa thought fast. She needed time to change back
into her adult self. She couldn't have two bumpkins from the
plant floor show up to find a company executive in a baby doll
dress and mary janes, complete with exposed little girl cotton
underpants! Taking a deep breath, she spoke firmly into the
phone.
"This is not a very good time. I'm right in the middle of a
report. Can the pick-up be postponed for say, 30 minutes?".
"No problem, Ms. Duncan. The men are doing a small job in
the reception area of the 14th floor. They'll be awhile. After
they're finished, They're to come pick up the doll..."
Melissa almost sighed with relief. There was now time to
transform herself back into an adult.
"That's fine, Gene". she said. "I'll give them a call from
here and tell them when to come by--thank you...". she hung up
the phone and pressed the button for an outside line. All she had
to do was call down there and make sure nobody came by for about
20 minutes. Melissa frowned as no dial tone could be heard from
the phone. With a sudden start, she realized what the problem
was. Before she left, her secretary had cut of the phone lines to
her office. She could receive calls, but make no outgoing ones.
She would have to go out to the outer office and switch them back
on. This was no problem, she told herself. After all, the outer
office's door was closed and locked. No one would see her.


What's the matter, underwear girl. Got yourself into a bit of a
pickle? Need a grown-up to take of the little girl?


"OH, shut up!", said the panty exposed Melissa, as she flounced
in her baby short dress and mary janes towards her office door.
She unlocked it and opened it a crack and cautiously looked out.
As expected, there was no one in the outer office and the door
was closed. Now, for a quick dash to the secretary's desk to
switch on the outside line...
Melissa darted out of her office to her secretary's desk.
She switched on the line and turned around, just in time to hear
her own office door close. With a sudden dread, she rushed to it
and tried the knob--locked! she was locked out of her office
dressed like a little girl!
All her doubts and frustrations came rushing over Melissa in
an instant. She was trapped as a little girl while the stupid
doll inside her office wore her clothes! She stamped her foot in
anger and rattled the knob of her locked door. Beating on the
door with fist, Melissa completely lost it. She fell to floor on
her stomach and began to have a tantrum, kicking her legs and
beating the fists on the carpet. Her dress had flipped up showing
her cotton pantied ass. She abandoned all traces of her adulthood
as she had her cry.


How the mighty have fallen, she heard the doll say from the other
side of the door. The mighty Melissa reduced to a screaming
little girl with her underpants showing, having a tantrum on her
office floor!

Gradually, Melissa came back to herself. She stopped carrying on
and rolled over to a sitting position, her thin white geek legs
out in front of her. She wiped her nose with her hand and stood
up. Crying would get her nowhere. She had to reclaim her
adulthood! She tried to think of what to do. If she could get
down to the parking lot on the back stairs, she could get to car.
She kept a key hidden in a magnet locker under the wheel well as
a precaution of being locked out of her car. With it, she could
drive home. On the way down the stairs, she could perhaps find a
coat. It wasn't much, but it was all she had.


You'll never get away with it, the doll said smugly. It's too
late. Your adulthood is history.

"Shut up!", yelled Melissa, as she went to the door of the
outer office. She peaked out and seeing no one, stepped out into
the main office. It was strange being out here dressed like a
child, thought Melissa. How many times had she stood here secure
in her adult clothes, giving orders to the peon, bimbo
secretaries. How would they treat her if they could see her now?

"Hold your dress down, child. Polite little girls don't go
running around with their underpants showing!"

It's nap time, child. We don't want you to get cranky.
Where's your teddy bear?".

"If you can't stop hold it, missy, we'll put you back into
diapers!".

Melissa blushed, hearing these taunts in her head. Taking small,
hesitant steps, she walked down the row of desks and turned the
corner leading to the stairs.

***********************


Jebb Stewart was 61, retired from the police force and
picking up some extra money as a part time security guard. It was
easy work, and he liked staying involved with the working world.
He had only been on the job a week, but he was quickly learning
who was who in the company. He was a tall, spare man with wavy
gray hair who prided himself at staying in shape. If he had any
signs of age it was his eyes. He was terribly near sighted, and
he had forgotten his glasses down in his locker. He could see
well enough to get around, but without his glasses faces were a
little blurry up close. He was making a routine security sweep
around the executive floor when he heard a commotion. Turning a
corner, he was surprised to see a young girl. Squinting, he said,
"Well now, young miss...suppose you tell me what you're
doing up here...". Melissa thought fast. It was "Mr. Magoo", the
new security guard. Perhaps he didn't recognize her! She felt
that she would die in shame, being seen dressed like this. She
realized she had only one hand to play, so she played it.
Swallowing her pride, she put an index finger under her chin,
grabbed the edge of her dress with her free hand, crossed her
mary janed feet and did an elaborate curtsy. She groaned as she
realized how much cotton panty she was showing.
"Sir," she said in a small polite voice. "My cousin is Ms.
Duncan. She asked me to come up her to get her purse but her door
is locked. I guess she forgot. Can you let me in?...". Melissa
could only hope the old fool would buy it. She would get back in
to her office and somehow get rid of him. If she had to, she
would tell him the truth.

Liar, liar, underpants on fire, said the doll from inside the
office.

The guard squinted at her. She DID look a little like Ms.
Duncan, now that he thought about it. He wished he had his
glasses. He was no fool, however, and something was wrong.
"I don't know what's going on here, young lady, but you
certainly don't belong up here wandering around by yourself. You
should be with the other little girls at the contest. Have you
been in Ms. Duncan's office?". Melissa shook her head, determined
to continue her ruse.
"No sir, I haven't. I..." she was cut off as the guard took
her by the arm and led her into the secretary's outer office.
"Well, he said. "I have the pass key. Let's just see if
you've been up to any mischief..."
Melissa was mortified. What now, she thought. The guard took
out his keys as Melissa stood there, furiously calculating her
next move in her baby doll dress. Before she knew it, the door
was open and she was led inside.
She was back in her office! her keys, her purse, her
clothes were only inches away. In seconds, she could reclaim her
adulthood. But how to do it with the security guard here? If she
didn't change back soon, things would be worse. She couldn't let
anyone see her in this humiliating outfit-- she couldn't even
conceal her panties! I'm an executive, her mind screamed. A grown
women with important responsibilities. I'm not a little girl. So
how was it that she found herself in a baby short little girls
party dress, complete with ankle socks, maryjanes, and exposed
white cotton underpants? In her mind, she was sure she heard the
doll answer her back.


You know very well why. You thought you playing some silly game,
you thought you were in charge. Well little girl, whose in charge
now? I tricked you out of your clothes, your executive status,
and your adulthood.


Melissa glanced at her mocking tormentor, looking so elegant in
HER executive pant suit. We'll just see about that!, she silently
said back. Taking a deep breath, she said,
"Sir, she said, biting her tang in trying to be polite to
this level minion. "I know this may be hard to believe, but I'm
Melissa Duncan, Assistant Product Manager. I tried on this outfit
as part of some research I was doing for the project. I
accidently locked myself out of my office and that's when you
found me. I was too embarrassed to say anything. I'm going to ask
you to keep the little incident quiet. I'm sure we can work
something out..." Melissa smiled seductively, her last words
leaving no doubt what she meant. THAT should get his attention,
she thought.
The guard was taken aback at what the little girl had just
told him. That the precocious child who stood before him in the
short party dress with underpants showing could make such a claim
practically floored him. He noticed again how her white cotton
panties peeked out from under the impossibly short hem. He had
heard that Melissa Duncan was a beautiful, headstrong young woman
who tended to dominate any situation she was in. Here was this
skinny legged, mousy haired little girl trying to tell him that
she was actually an adult? She had wandered off, probably to go
exploring. Now she was making up some outrageous story to get
herself out of trouble. KIds!
"Well now young miss," he said. "That's quite a story. Are
you sure you're not Melissa's cousin, here for the contest? You
shouldn't have wandered off, but I don't think you'll be in too
much trouble. Let's get you back to where you belong...". He
looked down at the shocked child and continued,
"And one more thing, if you EVER make such a suggestive
comment like you just did, I'll be sure to tell your mother---
AFTER you get a well deserved spanking..." He was serious, too.
He didn't need this job and was a firm believer in corporal
punishment.


YES!, said the doll. Missy needs a spanking. HA!, Ms. grown up
executive, he doesn't believe you! Your stuck as a mousey haired
little girl! you might as well get used to it! I don't think
you'll be wearing pumps and pantyhose anytime soon!


"You shut up!," screamed Melissa, putting her hands on her
hips and stamping her mary-janed foot in frustration.
"I'm NOT a little girl! I'm a grown-up!". The guard looked
at the screaming little girl with something approaching shock.
Why the little brat, he thought. The nerve of her to speak like
that to him!
"Missy," he warned her sternly, "I've had just about enough
of your impertinence. Little girls should be more respectful of
their elders. If you don't behave, I'll give you a spanking, and
I don't care who your family is!". Melissa looked at him in
shock. Why the nerve! the very idea that she could be SPANKED!


Yes spanked, said the doll. Something you could use. He doesn't
believe you, Missy. And why should he? I'm the one in the one in
the grown up pant suit. I'm the one whose wearing your silken
panties. I'm even wearing your pantyhose. I AM you, right down to
the high heels and the blond hair. Take a good look in the
mirror, little girl. You'll see that a spanking is right in line
with your new status as a child. Oh, and by the way, those white
cotton panties that you insist on showing with every step are
just ADORABLE!!


"That's it!", screamed Melissa with rage. "This all ends
right NOW! This is MY office. Those are MY clothes. I'M in charge
here! We'll see whose the little girl... Sir, please wait
outside. Give me 20 minutes to wash and change. Then you'll see
the mistake you made...". Melissa finished, glancing at the doll,
again and holding silent discourse with it.
How do you like that, she said silently. YOU are going back
to being what you are--a doll in a little girl's party dress. I'm
getting out of these ridiculous and humiliating clothes. I'm re-
claiming my adulthood! then we'll see who the gawky, geeky child
who can't keep her underwear from showing!


The only one here whose underpants are showing is you, little
girl. Oh, I suppose I might have pantylines showing through MY
grown up pantsuit, but I don't think that's going to be a problem
with this blazer I'm wearing. At least, that was always YOUR
reasoning, wasn't it?. YOU certainly don't have to worry about
pantylines now, do you?. Now that everyone can see that flat,
skinny little butt of yours in white cotton panties!


Melissa was about to retort, but then thought better of it. This
was over, as of right now. Taking small steps and trying to hold
her baby short dress down as she walked, she started towards the
doll. She was surprised when she felt her arm grabbed as she was
spun around, face to face with the seething security guard.
Without a word, Melissa was held tight as he used his other arm
to grab a near by chair. In seconds, Melissa found her self over
the man's knee!
"Oh, you bastard, let me GO--I'll have your job for this!
You can't spank me!".
"I can and I will," said the guard quietly in anger. "I've
had enough of this nonsense. Leaving the contest area.
Trespassing. Being disrespectful to an adult. Making lewd
suggestions. Disobedience. And now swearing. Well young lady, you
are going to get what you deserve!".

Yeah, said the doll. Give her a spanking! pull down her panties!
spank her bare bottom like a naughty child! Let's see how miss
high and mighty executive acts once her bouncy bottom is spanked
red!

He looked down at the struggling girl. Her short dress had flown
up even higher, exposing his white pantied target. With a will,
he brought up his hand and began spanking what he thought was a
naughty child. He would have been flabbergasted had he realized
he was spanking the prim Melissa Duncan, rising executive who was
the star of the company!

Whack! Whack! Whack!

"OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!", screamed Melissa, her cotton
underpanted ass stinging. She kicked her skinny legs, her mary
janed feet moving up and down.

"I'll get you for this!," she screamed.

Whack! Whack! Whack!

Again and again, the guard brought his hand down, spanking the
naughty little girl.

"And that's one more offense, young lady," he said. "making
threats to an adult!".

"OH!" screamed Melissa in humiliated frustration.




Melissa's getting spanked. Melissa's getting spanked, said the
doll in sing song fashion. I see London, I see Francis, I see
someone's underpantses! Not such a haughty executive now, are you
little girl?



Melissa tuned her head towards the taunting doll. It looked so
prim and proper in HER business clothes--so stately, so much in
command, an adult secure in her status. While SHE was getting
spanked and treated like a child!

Whack! Whack! Whack!

Melissa kicked her legs in agony.

"OWWWWWWWWW! It hurts! please stop. I.....I.......OH, please! I
promise I'll be a good little girl!". Melissa was shocked at her
own words. Dimly, through the pain and humiliation, a corner of
her mind wondered at what she had just said.
"There no doubt about that, young lady," said the guard, not
even pausing in his task.

Whack! Whack! Whack!

Melissa was now crying uncontrollably. She was getting spanked by
a lowly security guard in her own office, dressed as a child,
while the mocking doll looked on in smug satisfaction, wearing
HER executive pant suit!

Suddenly, the spanking stopped. Melissa stopped kicking. She was
crying, her tears rolling down her red-splotched face. Her ass
was on fire through the thick cotton panties. Before she could
say anything, the guard said,
"And now for the second part of the spanking, little girl. I
believe your behavior merits a bare bottom spanking!". Melissa
heard this last with mounting horror.
"Don't you dare pull down my panties, you pervert. I'm going
to have your job!".



Just like I have yours Melissa, said the Doll.


"OH!", said Melissa in humiliation. She felt him grab the
waistband of her childish cotton underpants and tug them down.
She felt the cool air on her now naked behind. The tight panties
were now down around her legs, making it difficult to kick.
"Don't make it worse, Missy", said the guard. "I doubt very
much your mother will mind, once she hears how you've behaved.
Looking down at the child's naked red behind, he began again to
spank her.

Whack! Whack! Whack!

"Owwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww"! screamed the chastised executive.

Whack! Whack! Whack!


Spank her naked heinee!, said the doll.


Whack! Whack! Whack!

Again and again, he spanked Melissa's naked ass. Melissa herself
could not believe the pain. The world seemed to spin. She felt
only the pain, the humiliation. Dimly, she heard the doll's
taunts.

Melissa's a little girl. Melissa's a little girl. She's getting
her naked little behind spanked!

Whack! Whack! Whack!


Melissa could take no more. Forgetting herself completely, she
cried out through her tears, her voice hitching,
"I'm.... I'm... I'm, so... so.... sorry, sir, really I am.
I'll be a goo.. good little girl--I promise! only please stop
spanking me!...".
"All right then," said the guard, pausing in his task "I'm
sorry it had to be like that. However, you deserved it... and
your mother will still have to be told...". He finished speaking
and pulled Melissa's panties up. Still sniffling, Melissa got to
her feet, her hands trying to sooth her burning ass. She was a
humiliated, punished little girl who had been spanked. She had no
illusions of her status. How could this have happened to me?, she
wondered. She was no longer the powerful executive that she had
been an hour ago. Her thoughts were interrupted by the guard.
"Go stand in the corner, Missy, and think about what you've
done. I've got to call management and get them up here-- they'll
know what to do with you..."


They will indeed, Melissa. You'll be treated as you deserve-- as
a punished and chastised little girl. OH this is rich, taunted
the doll. Go stand in the corner, little girl!


Melissa didn't respond to the silent taunts but instead went the
corner. She caught site of herself in the mirror as she passed.
Her brown hair was wet and stringy. Where was her own beautiful
blond hair? Her face was red and splotchy from crying, and her
clothes....well, she knew how she was dressed. Her little girl
party dress was wrinkled, and it seemed to have settled even
higher on her waist. Her white cotton underpants showed more than
ever. Her ankle socks had fallen slightly during her kicking,
accenting the black mary janes even more.
She reached the corner and faced the wall. Her ass was on
fire, her underwear was showing, and she was a punished and
chastised little girl wearing a baby short party dress standing
in a corner of her own office! Her grown up clothes and adulthood
were only inches away, but they might have been on the moon for
all the good it would do her. As the guard made the phone call,
Melissa, once a powerful young executive in a power suit, now
faced the future as a humiliated little girl. What was she going
to do? People were on the way up here right now-- they were going
to SEE her like this! Her career and adulthood were OVER. She
began to cry.

THE TRANSFER STUDENT -

THE TRANSFER STUDENT
By Andrea Neko

Part I


Holly Shao was never, ever mistaken for beautiful. She did get a
lot of calls for being cute, though. At 5'2", she wasn’t a tall
woman by any stretch of the imagination, and her 100-lb. body was
light enough not to give her frame much definition. This had
always tended to not grant her much of a love life, as men wanted
women that couldn’t double as teenage daughters in appearance; when
Holly was in the buff, she looked just like a fifteen-year-old
girl. Her slim Chinese frame made her appear even younger. It
was not something that she liked to dwell on often.


But she was now a teacher; her certification was just about to be
sent by the head office. She had already gotten a new job at a
very strict private school; she was told that one of her new
assignments was to take a new transfer student from Japan into her
home in order to build a rapport with a new student. She would
meet her new charge at the school, who was coming straight from
the airport. Holly’s first day would be one day before her new
transfer student’s, and she was as eager as ever to be there.


After her morning shower, Holly pulled on a matching silk bra and
panty set before pulling on her smart pink skirtsuit. The skirt
was a little long for today’s fashions, going down to her knees,
but she wanted to make a good impression. Turning around so her
butt faced the wall mirror, she frowned a bit at the line of her
panties, clearly visible through the skirt, but decided it didn't
matter.

The trip to the school was short. She felt a little nervous as she
had never physically met any of the faculty or staff, but had been
found through one of the school’s many national scouts. As she
pulled into the driveway, she stepped out of the car and was
immediately flagged down by one of the students sitting on the
curb. Walking up to her was an attractive young white girl of
maybe eighteen. She had long, honey blonde hair, a slim, athletic
frame and a firm bust. She wore the standard school uniform: navy
blue pleated skirt, dark green jumper and short-sleeved white
blouse. The girl had a pink ribbon tied expertly in her hair,
forming a ponytail. Next to her were two large suitcases. The
teen assertively thrust out her hand towards Holly. "Heya. You
Holly Shao?"

Surprised, Holly took a step back. This girl was invading her
personal space. "Y-yes, I...I’m her," she stammered, slightly
intimidated by the young woman.

"I’m Emiko Minan. Yeah, yeah, I’m not Japanese. I was born on an
army base in Okinawa. My parents figured it’d be easier for me to
fit in if I had a Japanese name, so let’s move on, shall we? That
your car over there?"

Holly nodded. Emiko’s confidence had gotten the better of her and
she found herself scampering behind the taller girl, her heels
clicking as she walked. Emiko’s worn sneakers made it easier for
her to walk quickly. Holly fumbled for her keys and dropped them
to the ground. Emiko giggled. "Here, let me take those," she
offered, picking up the keys and unlocking the trunk.

"Thanks," Holly managed. "Sorry if I’m so nervous. It’s my first
day too. You have all my personal information? Address, phone
number, and such? Good. I don’t know anyone here at all and, when

I was told you’d be living with me...."

"Really?" Emiko was quite interested. "No one at the school knows
you at all?" She tossed the luggage into the trunk and shut it.
"How’d you get this job?"

Holly explained. Emiko listened to her very intently. "Wow, they
must have really liked you."

"I just wish I knew people a little better," Holly sighed. "I
mean, how am I supposed to connect to the students if I suddenly
swoop in as a new teacher without any clue as to what these kids
are like?"

Emiko pursed her lips. There was a long silence between them
before the white girl’s sharp blue eyes lit up. "I got the perfect
idea! Look, I’m not even supposed to be here for another day. Why
don’t we switch outfits and you pretend to be a student for a day?"

Holly was shocked. "What! I’m no student!"

Shaking her blonde mane, Emiko held up her hands and waved that
off. "No no, silly. I mean we go to the principal and, say, tell
him that you want to get a feel for the place. You were just
planning on doing some introduction stuff today, right?"

Holly looked into the backseat of the car. Her lesson plans were
relatively simple for the first day.

Emiko continued on, her voice growing in excitement. "I’ll just
pretend to be you for a day and that’ll give you tons of time to
make some friends. C’mon, it’ll be fun!"

Opening her mouth to protest, Holly could not find any words.
Before she could say a thing, Emiko had grabbed her by the hand
and was nearly jogging towards the school. Holly had a tough time
keeping up in her heels. Emiko quickly led them into a handicap
bathroom stall, large enough for the two of them to fit.

"Okay," Emiko said. "Let’s switch." She pulled the jumper off and
began unbuttoning her blouse, revealing her regulation cotton bra
and panties. Holly was much more hesitant. Rolling her eyes, the
taller girl put her hands on the Asian woman’s shoulders.

"Look. We’ll be living together for a while. We’re going to see
each other naked sooner or later, so we might as well get off on a
good foot, right?"

Slowly, Holly began to disrobe. She felt very self-conscious,
particularly as Emiko had already stripped clear to the buff and
was watching Holly doff her clothing while trying to preserve as
much modesty as possible. The transfer student wasn’t helping,
continuing to hurry Holly while complimenting the woman’s choice of
underwear. It was very embarrassing for the Asian woman, who stood
as naked as the day she was born, shyly covering her flat breasts
and neatly trimmed loins.

Before she knew it, Emiko had dressed up in her own skirtsuit!
What’s more, due to the white girl’s superior height and figure, it
filled out in all the right places, looking just tight enough to
demonstrate her gorgeous figure. In fact, Emiko looked better in
Holly’s skirtsuit than she did! Emiko pursed her lips. "Hmm...I
don’t think you’ll fit into my uniform; it’s too big for you. Stay
right there; I’ll go tell the principal the plan and get you a new
uniform. Just stay right there."

Taking Holly’s purse, keys, and her own uniform, Emiko raced out
of the stall and left the cold, trembling woman there alone.
Shivering in the cold of the sterile bathroom, Holly took a seat
on the toilet and waited there, feeling humiliated at her plight,
but telling herself that Emiko wouldn’t take long.

The young lady was back within twenty minutes. In her hands was
a new uniform with regulation training bra and panties. "The
principal loves the idea," she explained. Holly was just grateful
to put something on; sitting on a toilet naked in a girl’s bathroom
made her desperate to put any clothes on, and putting on a girl’s
uniform didn’t seem like such a bad idea now. Emiko helped her
into the regulation white cotton panties.

"They’re a little snug," she told Emiko.

"I had to guess on your sizes. Come on, no time to delay; let’s
get you dressed up for your first day of school!" Emiko had become
more assertive, not letting Holly dress herself as she pulled the
unflattering training bra onto the embarrassed Asian girl.

The blouse came next. It fit, too, albeit tightly, and the short
sleeves made Holly’s slim arms appear all the younger. The skirt
was much too short, reaching Holly’s mid-thigh, but Emiko waved it
off. "It’s just for one day, so quit complaining. Jeez, you
really are acting like a little girl."

As Emiko put on more of her uniform, Holly began to feel more and
more like a young girl. When the blonde made her sit on the toilet
after pulling on her jumper in order to put on the knee socks and
Mary Janes, Holly objected. "I can put my socks and shoes on
myself," she said, but it came out as a meek whine.

"Of course you can, dear," Emiko replied dismissively. The younger
girl forced Holly to stand and looked her over. Reaching into

Holly’s purse, she pulled out two hair bands and pulled the

teacher’s locks into two cute pigtails. "You look perfect!" she

told the embarrassed young woman.

"Now come along, let’s get you to class," Emiko told Holly,
grabbing her by the arm roughly and taking her out of the bathroom
and down the deserted hallway. They opened the door to the
classroom that was first on the list of classes Emiko had given to
her new housemate: a literature class taught by the school’s most
fervent disciplinarian, Mrs. Bertha Thomas.

A stern old woman with her graying hair in a tight bun, Mrs. Thomas
did not look kindly at Holly. "And just who are you, young lady?"

At the stern voice, the timid woman froze. Emiko assertively took
the initiative. "My name is Ms. Emiko Ninan. I’m a new teacher
here, and I found this student wandering in the hallway. Her name
is Holly Shao, and she just transferred here from Japan. According
to her schedule, this is her classroom."

Holly was aghast. Emiko wasn’t the teacher, she was! This was
just a way for her to get to know her students before having to
confront them as their teacher! She tried to get a word out, but
was quickly cut off by the imposing Mrs. Thomas. "Pleased to meet
you, Ms. Ninan. Thank you for finding this wayward student."

Turning towards Holly, Mrs. Thomas frowned. "I don’t know how you
do it in Asia, Ms. Shao, but here at this academy you will be
expected to be punctual every day! Is that clear? I won’t have
any disorder in my classroom, so it’s best to rid you of this
behavior as soon as possible! Brady, will you assist me in Ms.
Shao’s punishment? You’re a good student."

A grinning young man rose from his desk and walked over to Holly.
"Gladly," he said, taking the frightened girl by both arms and
forcing her to bend over the teacher’s desk, gripping both her
wrists behind her back with one of his hands. The frightened girl
was so overwhelmed that she could barely utter one word of protest
as Emiko looked on, a devious smirk on her face.

Mrs. Thomas nodded to Brady. "Raise Ms. Shao’s skirt. The price
for being tardy in my class is ten swats. If you’ll be so good as
to administer the punishment, we’ll be able to get to work."

"No, no, please..." Holly managed, finally finding her voice again
as the young man raised her skirt, exposing her white cotton
briefs. "I’m not-" Swat! Brady’s hand exploded on her butt,
making her cry out in pain. He continued the treatment, hitting
her hard with each strike, with every single boy in the class
leering at her tight little butt confined in those snug little
briefs. Her slim thighs were fully exposed to the gaze of each
teen, making Holly all the more humiliated. After six swats, she
began to sob in embarrassment. She was a proud teacher, not some
pretty little schoolgirl!

When the punishment was finally over, Mrs. Thomas put a hand on
Brady’s shoulder. "Go get her cleaned up, will you? She’s a
disgrace."

Smiling from ear to ear, the eighteen-year-old nodded. "Of course,
Mrs. Thomas. I won’t take long." He took the crying girl by the
wrist and led her out of the classroom.

Once the door closed, he spun her around and kissed her forcefully
on the lips. The emotionally drained Holly couldn’t do a thing to
stop him except mewl pitifully, which only made the opportunistic
Brady deepen the kiss. He couldn’t get any further than that as
the class door opened, and Emiko stepped out, sneering a bit at the
display. "Now, now, Brady, I’m sure Holly will be more than happy
to go on a date with you soon. I’ll give you her number. But for
now, I have to take her home. Mrs. Thomas thought that she’s too
childish to go for the rest of the day after that spanking."

After waiting for Emiko to scribble out Holly’s home phone number,
Brady winked at Holly and strode back into class. Emiko looked
condescendingly upon her "teacher" and pushed her back hard against
the lockers. Her voice was low and dangerous. "You stupid idiot.
I can’t believe you let me just strip you naked in that bathroom or
believe any of that crap I told you, but you’ll live to regret it.
I told the principal that our paperwork had gotten switched and
that I was the new teacher and you were the student. He just
straight-up believed every word I said and changed the records.
So from now on, I’ll be calling the shots. Got it?"

"But...but why...?"

"Here’s why," Emiko continued, cutting the schoolgirl off. "I
lived on a military base my entire life. Everyone told me what to
do. Well you know what? Now I’m out of that hellhole, and I’ll
be the one telling other people what to do, starting with you. So
we’re going to start with a little shopping. I need some new
clothes, and you need something more appropriate for your age.
Some cute dresses, skirts, frilly little blouses, kiddie
undies...all on your dime, of course. You need some new clothes,
especially for that date you have coming up. I bet Brady will
love to take you out for a nice meal before spanking you again."
She said the last part with particular glee.

Holly began to cry anew at that. Now she had an established
reputation as a student among both faculty and students. She
didn’t know anyone who could clear her name, and she was living
with a militaristic girl who had usurped her authority and
identity in one fell swoop. She would be a schoolgirl at this
discipline-centric academy and had already established a bad
rapport with her teacher. Emiko seemed determined to make her
have a relationship with that boy, Brady, and nothing would
embarrass Holly more than having a teenage boyfriend. The sound
of Emiko’s heels clicking down the hallway seemed like an
ominous signal that Holly’s life was about to get a whole lot
worse.



Part II



Holly did her best to reason with the blonde girl as the pair drove away from the school. "Please, Emiko, I know that growing up must have been difficult, but that's no reason to take out your anger on other people. It must have been very tough growing up on a military base, but I'm not going to try and control you. Honest, if you just go back and explain everything to the principal, I'll forgive you."



The two pulled up to a stoplight. Slowly, Emiko turned her head and gazed into Holly's chocolate eyes with her own blazing twin emeralds. The smaller girl quickly looked into her lap, unable to match Emiko's gaze for more than a few seconds. Emiko burst out laughing. "One of the things we learned on the base was that deep down, all Chinese are a bunch of cowards. Looks like you do them proud, Holly."



Holly's cheeks flared with a red hue as the ethnic insult hit home. She had never been proud of being Chinese, but it was still a part of her identity. Her grandmother had always told her stories of when the Japanese had invaded during World War II when she was a little girl. The stories were so explicit and graphic that they had given her nightmares well into her teenage years. The events traumatized her to such an extent that she had built up an inherent fear and subservience to the Japanese. Emiko certainly didn't look Japanese or talk like it, but in the end she acted like some nightmare that had come right out of Holly's subconscious. She was cool, collected, calculating, and driven, just like the Japanese invaders had been.



The wet spot on her panties had only gotten larger with time as she felt another shiver run down her back at the sound of Emiko's laugh. She instinctively tightened her thighs together as Emiko pulled into a mall parking lot. Grabbing Holly's purse, she reached into her wallet and dropped the driver's license into the glove compartment. "Little girls don't get ID," she said. "We'll stop by the bank later and you can have it back for just long enough to give me access to your account."



Holly was flabbergasted. "I can't just give you all my money! I'll be broke!"



With one smooth movement, Emiko unlatched Holly's seatbelt and forcefully pulled the girl across her lap in the driver's seat. Holly's face was pushed up against the door and she couldn't move in such an awkward position. Worse yet, the parking brake was digging into her crotch, a most uncomfortable position. It almost felt like a cold, metal dildo was pushing up against her panties. The ten spanks that Emiko laid against the girl did nothing to ease the girl's discomfort. With hot tears in her eyes, Holly felt herself pulled up into Emiko's lap. Her legs spread until she was straddling Emiko's slim waist in the seat.



Emiko's demeanor appeared to change immediately. Lovingly, she stroked Holly's cheek. "Holly, look. I may not look Japanese, but I know Japanese honor. I'm responsible for you now - look at you. You clearly can't take care of yourself. That means you are my responsibility. I won't run away from you and leave you penniless. I'm responsible for you, which means I'm in charge of your money, your job, your social life, everything. I'll run your life the way I want it run and I won't hear a sobbing little girl tell me what she thinks is best for her. Got it?"



Her harsh words rang in Holly's ears. There was a moment of silence between the two of them before the Chinese girl burst out in tears and hugged Emiko tightly, sobbing into her...now Emiko's...skirtsuit. She felt like she was on an emotional roller-coaster that had flown off the track at the top of a hundred-foot-peak. She had been reduced from a proud, happy teacher to a snivelling, emotional wreck in a matter of hours. When Emiko patted her pantied behind and given it a loving squeeze, she almost felt rejuvinated, as if that one simple act had taken all the responsibility for her crumbling life away from her.



"Now, let's go find you some new clothes, shall we?" Emiko asked, an evil glint in her eye.



---------------------------------



The pair walked out of the mall, Holly struggling with a number of bags behind her with Emiko confidently strolling ahead. The poor girl was exhausted, while Emiko seemed to have an extra spring in her step. Holly had been amazed at the speed by which her new guardian had picked out clothes for her and set a strict timetable for Holly to try on all the clothes she had picked out. If Holly took too long in changing, Emiko would just pull back the flimsy curtain holding her changing room shut and let all the other patrons leer at the shocked girl in whatever state of undress she was in. After the fourth time of being exposed in yet another store, Holly had attracted quite an audience. The fact that Emiko reduced the amount of time she had to change every time that she was caught dressing did not help matters. It was an extra embarassment for Holly that the clothes she was caught in only served to further her childishness. Now Holly, dressed once again in her tiny schoolgirl uniform, felt a fresh dose of humiliation. All the things that Emiko had said in the car had only served to lower Holly's guard. She wondered if she would ever wear a real bra again. Emiko had insisted on training bras for the poorly-endowed girl, saying she should "nurse and treasure what few assets" she had. For Holly, nothing had ever been so humiliating.



Or arousing. Her standard-issue white cotton panties were soaked, an important little fact and one that Emiko had figured out after the second time that she had exposed Holly's undress to the kids' clothing store they were visiting. She was constantly on edge. Just when she thought she could relax, Emiko would caress her leg or give her a playful smack on the behind. That would only renew her alertness and cause her body to become more sensitive to the slightest touch.



It was clear that the blonde was taking delight in the poor girl's misfortune. Emiko was on top of the world. This morning she was nothing, a transfer student from Japan. Now she was a teacher at a prestigious, well-paying private school, with access to all of Holly's savings along with the small trust fund her parents had given her after a quick stop at the bank. It wasn't much, and not nearly enough to retire on, but plenty to afford more than a few indulgences...like buying a new wardrobe for a teacher-turned-schoolgirl. Emiko smirked as she recollected how easy it had been to convince the girl to change roles with her. Holly had always chosen clothes that were a size or two larger than she was; on Emiko, however, they fit like a glove. "Got to give it to you, little girl," she told the blushing schoolgirl, "You have great taste in clothes." She smoothed the hem of her new pink skirtsuit.



As the two pulled into their new driveway, they saw a portly middle-aged man waving at them. Shutting off the car, Emiko opened up the door and greeted the man. "You the folks that just moved in?" he asked.



"Yes. My name's Emiko Shinan. I'm a new teacher at St. Aggie's," Emiko said, brimming with confidence.



"Thought I recognized that uniform your young charge is wearing," the man replied with a bit of a smirk. "I'm quite familiar with it. I'm Mr. Bottoms, the head disciplinarian at St. Aggie's." He leaned down and gazed at Holly's legs, emphasized by the tiny jumper.



"Holly, come out and say hello!" Emiko said with a glare. Mumbling an apology, Holly exited the car and curtsied demurely to Mr. Bottoms. She did not have much margin for error, as the tiny jumper did not give her much room to raise it without exposing her panties.



"What a well-mannered girl," Mr. Bottoms said. "You must be very proud."



"Not really," Emiko said. "We're home early because Holly broke down after she was spanked in front of the class for being late."



Mr. Bottoms grinned and looked at Holly with a predatory gleam in his eye. Instinctively, Holly covered her butt with both hands. "So who was the man lucky enough to spank this truant little girl?"



"Ms. Thomas asked one of her students, Brady, to spank the little girl," Emiko replied with a shrug. "Holly was so thankful that she asked Brady out."



Laughing, Mr. Bottoms said, "Well, I wish girls would appreciate being spanked as much when I was a young man. Still though, I don't think Holly learned her lesson if Ms. Thomas had young Brady perform the spanking. Students sympathize with their peers, you see, and aren't nearly as assertive as they could be. I know Brady quite well and he needs to improve his technique."



"You have something else in mind?" Emiko asked.



Mr. Bottoms pointed to a house across the street. "Best let me finish her punishment properly. I wouldn't want Brady to get into trouble because Holly didn't learn her lesson. Besides, I'm recovering from a bit of a cold and I want to make sure I can come back to school without getting rusty at my technique."



"What a great idea!" Emiko replied, pushing Holly towards the older man. "I have to unload all this stuff anyways and get settled in. Holly, you play nice with Mr. Bottoms. And don't waste too much of his time - you have a hot date tonight and we need to get you changed. Brady won't like it if those wet panties of yours are still on."



The door slamming shut was like a death knell for Holly. She blushed and stammered as the older man approached her. With each step forward he took, she took another back. "Come on, little Holly, don't you want to be spanked?" Mr. Bottoms asked kindly. "You know it's for the best."



Holly backed up through an archway, ending up in the kitchen. Her backward movement was stopped by the kitchen island. She defensively placed both hands on her shapely rear under the tiny jumper. "I was already spanked today!" she pleaded.



Mr. Bottoms reached out with one hand. His kind tone did not waver. "Holly, you're making things more difficult. Just hand me your panties so I can spank your bare tush and I won't up the punishment any more."



The schoolgirl gasped loudly. She was an adult, for crying out loud! The outfit she was wearing was short enough as it was. If she turned at all, the jumper would fly up and show off her nether regions. For her to go without panties would mean the smallest breeze would expose her crotch to the world! "But Mr. Bottoms! This is already so short - what happens if someone looks up my skirt!"



Mr. Bottoms bellowed out his laugh. He closed the distance between the two of them. "I planned on giving them back, Holly. I only give bare-bottom spankings. But since you want me to take them, I'll oblige. Little girls like you shouldn't be wearing wet panties anyway."



With lightning speed, he spun Holly around and bent her over the island. Holly's panties were down around her ankles before she knew what was going on, and whisked off of her mere moments later. A firm hand on her back kept her firmly bent over as Mr. Bottoms began spanking Holly's tight little arse. She squirmed and fought, but nothing stopped his disciplined hand. Twenty-five painful swats later, he finally let her stand back up. Pocketing her panties, he shook his head. "I'll give them back to Miss Emiko at school tomorrow. You better go and get ready for your date, little girl. I look forward to seeing you in my office in the future."



Tears streamed down Holly's face. Mr. Bottoms was a true expert at his craft; her posterior was a bright, bright crimson. Rubbing her sore bottom under her jumper, she slowly made her way out the door and across the street. Remembering she had no keys, she had to ring the doorbell. Emiko answered, still dressed smartly in what used to be Holly's pink skirtsuit. She pulled in the shorter girl quickly. "Did he actually spank you?!" she asked. There was clear excitement in her voice. Holly gave the slightest of nods.



Emiko leapt up into the air. "This is so awesome! I can't believe I have my own little China girl. C'mon, let's get you dressed up for your date." Grabbing Holly's hand, she dragged the girl upstairs. Holly felt an awful sense of dread wash over her. She desperately hoped that Emiko would not notice how wet she was, but Lady Luck had not been with her today and it was unlikely to return any time soon.

Part III

"You remember when we first met?"  Emiko said as they entered
the former guest room.  (Emiko had established in no uncertain
terms that it would be Holly's room now.)  It seemed so long ago
that they had met, but it had only been that morning.  And now,
Holly was dressed up in a tiny schoolgirl uniform, her identity
completely turned upside down.  "I told you then I was white,"
Emiko continued, not interested in Holly's thoughts.  "But that
was not completely true.  My mother's white; she was a school
teacher on an army base in Okinawa.  Pretty, but vapid.  My
father's a Japanese officer -- descended from samurai.  So I'm
a half-breed, neither one thing nor the other.  But the benefit
is that, with the right clothes and makeup, I can role-play either
one -- whichever suits the situation best.  I'm playing white right
now, but my heart is still Japanese...."
Emiko grabbed Holly's bare arm roughly.  "Whereas...whereas YOU
will never be anything but a...Chinese," she sneered.  Holly was
speechless.  The cruel words hit home.
"So," Emiko continued with a curious note in her voice, "I've
invited the Japanese Students' Club over for tea this afternoon.
You will serve us -- and you'll do so in a special outfit I picked
out for you.  I'm sure the girls will enjoy teaching you a lesson
or two about yourself.  As for the boys...well, if they're
interested in a Chinese whore like you, maybe you'll get a little
fun before your date."

Holly couldn't believe what she was hearing.  Emiko hadn't given
her a break all day.  Now, with only two hours before Brady was
coming over for a date, Emiko expected her to serve tea to a bunch
of Japanese kids?  And what was this about a special outfit?

Once she saw what Emiko had picked out, Holly wished she hadn't asked.
It was a very small French maid outfit.

"When did you get that?" Holly asked incredulously.

"When you were in the changing room," Emiko said with a smirk.
"You still haven't told me your dimensions, so I just kept the
same ones I used for your school uniform.  That fits well, right?"

"No!"  Holly shouted.  "That thing's going to be tiny on me!"
Emiko frowned.  Grabbing Holly by the shoulders, she pushed her
hard onto the bed.  Holly fell on her stomach, and Emiko was on
her in an instant.  Before Holly knew what was going on, her
jumper had been flipped up, and Emiko was smacking her bare,
already crimson bottom.  The Chinese teacher pounded her fists
on the covers, her butt already sensitive from the earlier
spankings by Brady and particularly by Mr. Bottoms.  For Emiko
to add to that was torment.

"I'm sorry, I think you're confusing yourself with someone who
has a choice in this house," Emiko said condescendingly.  "I was
thinking about a Chinese dress, but you're already enough of an
embarrassment that we don't need to call more attention to your
pathetic race.  Besides, you're definitely more the serving girl
type."
So, once more, Holly had to change.  Instead of a cold school
bathroom, though, this was her own home.  Somehow, it seemed
even more forbidding, since it wasn't really her house anymore;
the deed was now in Emiko's name.  Holly sobbed a bit as she
stripped down and stood naked in front of the confident Emiko,
who handed her a cheap pair of pink panties with a red cherry
print.  "Try not to soak these with your juices.  You'll just
be making more laundry for yourself to do."

As Holly dressed, Emiko explained the chores that Holly would have
to do to earn her allowance.  Tears ran down the woman's cheeks,
but what really made her ache was finally seeing herself in the
mirror.  She'd been right: the outfit was tiny.  It fit her figure
perfectly.  The cut was too low and the hem too high.  The skirt
flared out and would provide anyone even giving her a cursory
glance a full shot of her panties the moment she bent forward.
And that was exactly what Emiko insisted she do.  Whenever she put
down a glass or picked something up, Holly was to bend over at the
waist.  Even though no one had arrived yet, with each passing
instruction Holly began to feel increasingly humiliated....

And increasingly aroused.

In fact, by the time the doorbell rang, she could already feel
wetness in her crotch.  The boy at the door turned out to be
tall, lanky, and clearly Japanese.  He introduced himself curtly
and looked her up and down.  Holly winced slightly, giving him a
curtsy and looking at the floor demurely.  Following him were
five other Japanese students: three more boys and two girls.
Holly curtsied as they walked past her.  Each of the boys leered,
while the girls giggled.  The maid felt her face flush as she
introduced herself and asked if anyone wanted a drink.  All the
students snickered and started talking in Japanese to each other.
Occasionally, they pointed at Holly and laughed.  After a full two
minutes of standing there awkwardly without comprehending a word,
Holly curtsied and went into the kitchen.  She didn't know what to
do, so she just poured an assortment of drinks, put them on a tray,
and carried them out.

Emiko had made her wear three-inch heels.  It was a plus in that
it didn't make Holly feel as small as she normally did, but she
was far from adept at walking around in them.  Carrying the heavy
tray its cargo made the task exceptionally difficult.  Slowly, she
made her way to the coffee table.  Remembering Emiko's instructions,
she bent over fully at the waist and slowly deposited the glasses
on the table.  Those sitting behind her had a perfect view of her
tight little rump in the cherry-print panties, while those in front
of her got a look down her slight cleavage.

The chattering in Japanese got even faster.  One of the girls told
her to stop what she was doing.  Holly froze in her bent-over
position.  Within seconds there were three hands on her thighs,
groping her.  The other girl giggled.  "Now you know what it's
like for us on trains," she snickered.  "Don't move until we're
done with our drinks!"

Two boys stood up and walked around Holly.  They pulled her upright,
and one kissed her aggressively on the lips.  The other reached
around and began fondling her butt.  As soon as the first boy was
done kissing her, the two rotated, and she found herself liplocked
with another boy.  Meanwhile, she heard the two Japanese girls
giggling...and it was not long before Emiko's laughter joined in.
Emiko made certain that none of the boys went too far.  She said
that Holly had a big date that night, but that they could "have
more fun next time."  Despite that, by the time the boys were done
with her, Holly was a sweating, quivering mess.

"Next time I want in!" one of the girls said, pouting.

"Me, too!" the other chimed in.

Emiko shooed them out.  She looked down at the Chinese girl and
laughed.  "Hope you liked that for starters.  Now get your scrawny
ass upstairs and take a shower.  You look like a bitch in heat,
and you don't want Brady to think you're a whore."
Holly was exhausted -- physically, mentally, and emotionally spent.
She had cried so much she wasn't sure she could even summon the
ability to do so again.  Emiko's threats gave her the little energy
she needed to crawl upstairs and into the bathroom.  Emiko soon
followed and forcefully yanked off her maid outfit, followed by her
bra and panties.  Emiko did not look pleased to see how wet they
were.  "At this rate, I may not even let you wear panties.  You'll
spend too much on detergent getting them washed!"

Grabbing the nude girl by the arm, Emiko dragged her into the
shower and turned the faucet to its coldest setting.  The icy
water rained down upon Holly, who shrieked.  She tried to cover
her small breasts and pussy, but the cold made her skin creep with
goosebumps immediately.  Her nipples were hard as rocks.  Emiko
tossed in a fresh bar of soap.  "Now clean yourself off, you
disgusting little chippy," she said.

The frightened, freezing girl washed herself as quickly as she
could.  The fresh bar of soap still had sharpish corners, so
whenever she pressed too hard, it would dig into her sensitive
skin.  The cold water and the helpless panic she felt made her
clumsier.  She frequently dropped the soap and had to chase after
it on the slippery porcelain floor.  Emiko couldn't stop laughing
at Holly's predicament.

Finally, Holly finished and Emiko turned off the water.  The
smaller girl's teeth were chattering, and she was shivering
violently.  Producing a towel, Emiko pulled her out of the stall
and began forcefully drying her off.  She paid special attention
to Holly's crotch, taking each end of the towel and rubbing it
back and forth between the tortured girl's legs.  At long last,
Emiko gave Holly a firm swat on the butt and pointed to Holly's
new bedroom.  "I'm going downstairs.  I've already laid out your
clothes.  Be ready in twenty minutes...or else!"

               ******************************

"Come on, come on!  Get down here already, Holly.  You've been up
there for over half an hour!"

"Sorry," came the faint reply as Holly looked at herself once more
in the mirror.  She was shocked at the image she presented, in a
very short pink dress with short, puffed sleeves.  The extremely
- Hide quoted text -
high hem of the dress, well above mid-thigh, made her feel like a
lolita.  Underneath, her yellow cotton underwear, with a flower
pattern, only amplified her feeling of childishness.  Emiko had
demanded Holly put her shiny black hair up in pigtails and wear
pink lipstick, which enhanced the illusion.  The Caucasian-Japanese
girl had gone further, giving Holly only a cheap heart necklace for
jewelry.  And the simple flat shoes that Holly now wore made her
feel even more inadequate.

"Holly!" Emiko shouted once more and slammed open the door to the
guest room...Holly's new bedroom.  The taller blonde had a look of
open animosity on her face as she towered over the smaller woman.
"Brady is going to be here any second, and you had better be ready.
Don't you understand what I'm doing for you?  I was the one who set
this up."

"Yes, I know, Miss Emiko," Holly replied, using the title Emiko
had insisted she use even at home.  "And I am ready.  It's just
that...well, he's only eighteen!"

"So what?  It's not like he's a minor.  Jeez, you Chinese are
always so stuck-up about your morals."

The doorbell rang.  Emiko grabbed Holly by the hand and roughly
dragged her downstairs.  Opening the door revealed two figures
that Holly recognized immediately as the two men that had spanked
her earlier that afternoon.  On the left was Mr. Bottoms, the head
disciplinarian at St. Aggie's and the man who should have been a
peer of Holly's.  On the right was Brady, the young man who was her
peer, now that she was only a student.

He was also her date for the evening.  The rose he held out for her
certainly confirmed as much.

"Mr. Bottoms?  What can I do for you?" Emiko asked.

"Why, I'm just here to drop off my son for his date," the
middle-aged man replied with a grin, giving Brady a slight
tap on the back.

"Brady's your son?" Holly asked.  What a coincidence, then, that
both father and son had spanked her bottom within hours of each
other!  The thought made her blush and involuntarily glance in
the mirror, making sure she still had her panties on.  Brady
stepped forward, handing the rose to Holly.  She took it with a
bit of a smile.  Emiko, however, was all business.  Taking the
rose, she spun away, muttering something about finding a vase.
Brady took Holly's hand and kissed it.

"Before you lovebirds go, mind if I chat with Emiko for a second?"
Mr. Bottoms asked Holly.  "We're colleagues now, and I'd like to
get to know her."

Brady began tugging at Holly's hand.  Turning back to the
disciplinarian, Holly called, "Umm...sure!  Go right ahead!"

"Thanks," Mr. Bottoms said, striding confidently into the house and
shutting the door behind him.  There was a surprisingly loud click
as the door locked.  Holly paid little attention, though, as Brady
pulled her out to his car and opened the passenger door.  Holly
smiled and stepped in, noting immediately that the dress rode up
her thighs even more.  There was maybe an inch or two separating
her underwear from his gaze as Brady slid into the driver's side.
In order to give herself a little more dignity, Holly made the bold
move to pull the dress up from under her so she could stretch it a
bit forward.  There was now nothing separating her from the cool
seats of the car except her increasingly damp panties.

Keeping a hand on the wheel, Brady let his other hand slide down
to rub Holly's thigh.  She remembered Emiko's message to her
earlier that day: be shy and submissive...in short, "everything
a good Chinese girl should be."  She had dearly wanted to retort,
but had found herself unable to under Emiko's withering stare.
So she let Brady's hand rub her bare legs as he began to talk.

"I know I saw you just this afternoon, Holly, but, damn, did I
miss you."

Not letting her gaze stray from his hand on her leg, she replied,
"I missed you too, Brady."

Brady grinned as the two sped away.  The date itself was like
something out of a 1950s cliché: dinner at a steakhouse, followed
by a movie.  Holly was kept off-balance the entire time.  Beginning
with the obvious leering of the server who kept staring down the
top of her dress, and then Brady ordering her a light salad instead
of letting her order her own meal, and THEN the growing wetness
between her legs, Holly found it difficult to concentrate.  She
kept reminding herself that she was a mature woman of 24 with a
Master's degree in education.  She was not a blushing high school
freshman who was so easily flattered by an upperclassman,
particularly one with rather amateurish come-ons.

All that aside, she found it difficult to deny that Brady did have
a certain charm to him.  Maybe she liked being treated like a
little girl.

The movie was...well, she did not really have much opportunity to
pay attention.  From the moment the lights went down in the mostly
empty theater, Brady was all over her, pulling her into his lap and
fondling her from head to toe as he forcefully made out with her.
Holly didn't fight or even object: each time his hand went up her
dress, what little resistance she was able to muster disintegrated.
She had already been a randy little tart by the time he picked up
the check at dinner.  His clumsy yet effective flirting had made
her clench her legs together more than once.  So, when he advanced
on her in the theater, her arousal was only racheted that much
higher.  His attempts to finger her were unbearably aggressive and
lacked much in the way of technique, but that didn't stop the Asian
girl from orgasming three times over the course of the movie.  By
the time he was through with her, Holly didn't even so much as
utter a whisper of a complaint when he pushed her onto her knees
on the dirty theater floor and pressed her head into his crotch.
It was the filthiest place imaginable for a blowjob.  As it was,
she had never been that predisposed to do that in the first place.
But when she looked up at him, her juices soaking her girly panties
to near saturation, his face a concoction of boyish anticipation
and unchallenged superiority, Holly was only too eager to unzip his
pants with her teeth.

And never before had she taken as large a cock as his.  Her
previous relationships, such as they were, had all been
exclusively with Asian men.  Her mother had always insisted
while growing up that it was only right for a Chinese girl,
even a half-breed like her, to "stay within the race."  When
Brady placed his hand around the back of her head and pulled
her onto his rod, she was in near shock at the size of it.
All the same, she swallowed every last drop.  The two of them
were quite a pair upon exiting the building.  Brady walked tall
with a glow about his body and a warm, confident grin on his
face, while Holly was gripping his arm for dear life, dizzy and
stumbling, sweat covering her lithe body, her girly party dress
sticking to her form.  Never before had she felt so filthy, so
dirty, so publicly humiliated....

So alive.

When Brady suggested a nice "out of the way place...to get to know
each other a bit better," she jumped at the opportunity.  She knew
exactly what he was suggesting and so did he, but she didn't care.
She was so aroused that she couldn't even think straight.  What is
more, she knew she wasn't thinking straight and reveled in it.  No
longer was she Holly, the shy but well-meaning and well-educated
teacher.  Now she was Holly, the randy little freshman schoolgirl,
squealing with glee that an upperclassman was taking her to the
21st Century version of Lover's Lane.  The entire date had gone
better than anything Holly had ever done or seen before, and it
was just reaching its climax now.

As did she.  Twice more.  What tiny little vein of responsibility
she had left was whispering into her ear that he wasn't using
protection.  That last vestige of adulthood died a quick death
when Brady penetrated her sopping wet cunt.  After he finally
pulled out, the two lovers leaned against each other in the back
seat for a few minutes before he hopped into the front and began
driving them home.  Holly remained lying across the back seat,
panting heavily, her panties bunched around one of her ankles.
Before she even knew what was going on, they had arrived back
home.  Brady exited and opened the door for her, rearranging her
clothes into a semi-respectable state before taking her into his
arms.  Holly settled comfortably in his embrace as he brought
her to her door and opened it.

What they saw upon entering shocked both of them.  Holly's jaw
dropped.  Brady dropped Holly.  She fell to the floor with a
light thump.

"Dad!" he shouted.  "What the hell?  Why did you tie up Ms. Emiko?"

Indeed, there was Mr. Bottoms, his folded belt in one hand.  Bent
over the kitchen counter, dressed in a St. Aggie's school uniform,
was Emiko, tied tightly to the counter.  Her jumper was raised
above her waist.  Her sky blue panties were bunched around her
knees.  Her arms were tied tightly behind her back, and a thick
cloth cleave-gagged her quite expertly.  Her round, athletic bottom
was a bright red.  It was quite clear what Mr. Bottoms had been up
to while Brady and Holly were on their date.
"Don't worry, son," he chuckled.  "Just flushin' out a mole, that's all."
- Hide quoted text -


Holly scrambled to her feet and stood beside Brady.  It took him a
few seconds to get a coherent sentence out.  "Dad...again...what
the hell?"

"I knew somethin' wasn't right with this one," Mr. Bottoms said
with a smirk.  "I know pretty girls, and I know how to tell the
high school kids from the young adults.  He gave Emiko a quick
swat with the belt, causing her to mewl into the gag.  Tears ran
down her cheeks.  "This one was no young adult.  She had brat
written all over her.  So I started askin' a few questions, talking
about my methods.  When her eyes lit up after I described my
techniques, I knew how I could snare her.  She kept asking me to
demonstrate on little Holly there, but I had better ideas.  I
convinced her to change into her uniform so I could demonstrate
on her.  What she didn't know was that with my...persuasion
techniques, I got her to blurt out what she's been doing to Holly."

"What are you talking about, Dad?" Brady asked.  He reflexively
wrapped his arm around Holly's waist and pulled her close.
"What's she been doing to Holly?"

"Mr. Bottoms," Holly interjected meekly, "it's not really a big
deal.  Maybe...."

"Oh, I'm afraid it is, Holly.  You see, Brady, Emiko was the
original transfer student.  She is 18 and Holly is 24.  Holly
was supposed to be the new teacher at St. Aggie's, but Emiko
coerced her into switching roles."

The revelation shook Holly to her core, but not at all for the
reasons she thought.  She obviously was aware of the situation
that had brought her to this point, but what should have been a
relief made her heart ache.  She was surprised to find herself
deathly afraid that Brady might reject her now.  The mere thought
of him turning her away after hearing this story made her feel
like someone had just walked over her grave.

So when Brady kept his grip tight around her and pulled her close,
she sighed happily.  "I don't care," he said.  "Holly and I had a
great night tonight, and I don't care if she's a freshman or a
teacher, I still want to be with her."

Emiko rolled her eyes and fought against her bonds, snarling at Mr.
Bottoms.  The disciplinarian quickly gave her another swat with the
belt, which cowed the blonde into silence.  "Well, Brady, that's
admirable of you.  I always raised you to be a man of chivalry,
and you're not disappointing me now.  But there are rules at St.
Aggie's about student-teacher relationships.  If you want to be
together, Holly's going to have to stay a student, at least until
you graduate.  She doesn't have any family around, so I'll be happy
to 'be responsible' for her.  But after Brady graduates, by then
it would be really awkward for Holly to try to get her teaching
position back after being a student for a year...."

Holly looked deep into Brady's eyes.  Mr. Bottoms continued.
"Besides, there's now the issue of what to do with Emiko.  The
easiest thing to do is just ship her off to a more rigid school
as punishment.  I'm sure my friend Dr. Lakewood would be more
than happy to take on this girl.  He loves...troubled cases.  Or,
Holly, we could just let bygones be bygones and let Emiko stay at
the school with you.  She's already agreed to give you back your
home and all your money, so you two would just be students, same
as anyone else."

Brady smiled and brushed some of Holly's obsidian hair out of her
face.  "How about it, beautiful?  What's it to be?"

For the first time in her life, Holly felt sure.  Smiling brightly,
she hugged Brady tightly and rubbed her head against his chest.
"How about...instead of giving me my house and money back...you
hold onto it, Mr. Bottoms?  A high school freshman like me wouldn't
know what to do with it."

Brady laughed and kissed Holly deeply and lovingly.  Mr. Bottoms
smiled.  Emiko stamped her foot and renewed her struggle in her
tight bonds.  Mr. Bottoms gave her another painful reminder of
her current predicament.  "And what about Emiko?" he asked.

Emiko and Holly's eyes met for one fateful moment.  The Chinese
girl turned to Mr. Bottoms.  "As for Emiko, I think we should let
her go.  I have Brady to protect me now."

Brady grinned and gave Holly's rear a squeeze.  "We've got all this
blackmail on her, so she wouldn't dare cause trouble.  But don't be
so sure I'll always protect you.  I might invite her over for a
threesome every now and again.  And something tells me she's got a
lot of pent-up frustration she'll take out on you.  But don't
- Hide quoted text -
worry, I'll make sure she uses plenty of lube."

Mr. Bottoms grinned.  "Well, that certainly settles that.  You two
can live in your home, Holly.  And I'll take Ms. Troublesome here.
She can move into your room, Brady."  He smiled wolfishly.  "By the
time I'm through with her, she'll be a perfect little lady."

Emiko bit back a sob.

THE END