Bad Seed

BAD SEED
by CK

Cameron McLeod lay on his back, staring up at the white painted ceiling tile decorated with decals of teddy bears and ABC blocks. He sucked on the large rubber nipple, the plastic shield of the pacifier pressing against his lips. His hooded sweatshirt and onesie were pushed up to his armpits, and the plastic strap securing him to the changing table was tight; Mrs. Vesper had the unfortunate habit of fastening it too tight, as if she thought that somehow made it extra secure. He felt a tugging sensation on his hips and lower abdomen as a fresh diaper was taped around him.

“A clean diapee feels better, doesn’t it?” Ms. Sweeney chirped in her sugary sweet singsong voice. Her diaper changes were much gentler than Mrs. Vesper’s. She had gotten called away by a phone call, so Ms. Sweeney had stepped in and finished changing him.

He tilted his head, looking up at his teacher and licensed regression therapist. Her plump, ruby red lips smiled down at him and her brown eyes twinkled, full of the joy of life. Her short, curly black hair frizzed around her head like a fuzzy dark halo and huge rhinestones sparkled in her earlobes. She chattered away, mostly to herself, not expecting her charges to answer.

Most of them could or would not. Cameron caught her eyes and returned her smile behind his binky. He was one of the few who could. He had a hand full of classmates in the special education; regression therapy curriculum. His only reply to her was a smile. Dirty diaper, clean diaper, it made no difference to the eighteen year old. He had been in diapers since he was six. The last day he had worn big boy underwear- they had a print of Spiderman, he recalled that specifically- his life had changed forever.

He shivered at the memory, his heart skipping a beat

“It’s cold, huh, baby?” Ms. Sweeney cooed as if he were a toddler. “Let’s get you all fixed up and snugly warm again.” She unfastened the changing table security strap, pulled down his blue onesie down, fastening it over his diaper. He heard the metal snaps click shut, pressing the padded bulk closer to him and felt some of the cool baby powder shift in his diaper, sliding down towards his butt. He felt her tugging on his pants and heard all those snaps click shut.

The cold was not what made him shiver, but that was something he did not want to talk or think about. He was happy the cool days of early autumn were growing colder as winter approached. Wearing pants and long sleeves was a lot more acceptable in the cold weather than it was in the warm. It was normal. He would rather be stared at for being dressed like a weirdo in the warm weather than to expose what lay beneath his clothing, and he did not mean his diapers. The snaps on all his pants, and the telltale bulge of a thick diaper, coupled with the loud crinkly noise they made, all gave away his diapered state anywhere he went. No, what he hid from the world was the painful mementos of the fateful day that changed the course of his life forever. That day was the reason he still wore diapers, and why he was in the regression therapy program.

Ms. Sweeney watched her student’s pretty face crumple. Cameron had better control of his emotions than her other students, and he was the one who had been through the most. He had also been through the most intensive therapy. When reading his files for the first time, she had been horrified at the nightmare the boy had survived. He had also spent several years in a mental hospital that specialized in intensive regression therapy.

“What a cute ducky!” She tapped the yellow duck embroidered on the chest of his blue onesie. “What does the ducky say?” She asked, fearing he was having a melt down and wanted to distract him from it, like she would distract a baby having a tantrum.

Cameron stared up at his teacher. He knew what she was trying to do, distract him from his thoughts. The technique worked with patients who had been mentally and emotionally regressed. It had worked on him in the hospital, when he had been little more than an overgrown infant. It worked on his classmates, who were kept emotionally regressed. He played along.

“Woof-woof!” He spat his binky out.

“Silly baby. Puppies say woof. Duckies go quack-quack.” Ms.Sweeney cooed then pulled his hooded sweatshirt down, hiding his ducky and his onesie from sight. “Uh-oh.” She smiled and slipped his binky back between his pink lips.

Cameron opened his lips so she could slip the rubber nipple into his mouth.

“There we go, all done!” She held out her hands, and Cameron placed his hands in hers, allowing her to help him sit up then jump down from the changing table. His hooded sweatshirt hung loose on his slim frame. It was light blue with white and baby blue stripes on the sleeves. His jeans would have passed for normal jeans except for the snaps running along the inner legs all the way up to his crotch, to make for easier diaper checks and changes. His plastic backed diaper crinkled noisily with each little movement and the thick padding around his crotch was familiar and comforting.

“Tank yew.” He lisped behind his binky to Ms. Sweeney as she tugged at his pants and shirt once more, fixing them now that he was standing. A little bit of drool ran down his chin and plopped down his ever-present bib. A bright yellow ducky clip with a blue strap secured his paci to his shirt.

“You’re welcome, sweetie. Go back to your seat now.” She patted his heavily padded bottom then set about cleaning up the changing table and throwing his used diaper and wipes into the diaper genie.

He started across the regression room, which resembled an adult-sized daycare. The thick bulk of his diaper forced his legs apart, giving him an unsteady toddler waddle. He toddled past the locked classroom door when loud voices drew his attention to the glass window in the heavy door. It was locked to prevent any regressed students from wandering out, for their own protection of course. The regression room was more like a daycare in the high school, and students in the regression therapy program were little more than oversized toddlers and babies.

Re: Bad Seed

“Chill. Seriously. No need to get your dick in a knot, gramps.” The voice was loud, female, and excessively annoyed.

Cameron froze, shocked at the foul language coming out of a female mouth. He toddled to the door, peering out of the glass window for a lookie-loo.

Normal students rarely passed down this hall, which had several special education classrooms. The only time other students or school personnel passed down the special education hall was when they were taking the long way to the school office. Through the glass, he saw a girl in black short shorts, ripped black stockings, black leather boots with spikes, and a baggy black sweatshirt. Spikes had been added to the collar and cuffs. The shirt was just as short as the shorts, exposing the girl’s flat stomach. She wore metallic purple lipstick, and her eyes were heavily rimmed with black makeup that made her naturally pale skin the hue of a corpse. Metal spikes poked through the skin under her lower purple lip in a snake bite piercing. A matching, curved metal spike pierced her navel. Her most arresting feature was the left side of her exposed middle. Her once-smooth flesh was a mutilated pink and red ridgeline of deep scars. Rows like jagged, crooked canyons furrowed through her mutilated flesh, as if skin and hunks of meat had been ripped away.

Behind her marched the school principal, Mr. Witherspoon, with a stern frown on his aged visage. “Young lady, you are already in violation of the dress code. It is your first day so I will let you off with a warning. Such language will NOT be tolerated here at Mapleton High. Any further infractions of the rules or insubordination to your teachers will result in punishment. Do I make myself clear?”

The girl grinned crookedly. “Well, it’s a little murky-”

He cleared his throat, cutting her off in the middle of her shenanigans.

She huffed a put-upon sigh. “Yes, sir.” She reached under her half-a-sweatshirt to pull down a white tank top with a glittery black skull on it. “This better? My side was hurting. All hot and itchy, you know? Just needed some air on it. It’s still healing.” She stuck a finger bedecked with a skull ring into one of the canyons, pushing the shirt’s cloth into the groove of missing flesh.

Mr. Witherspoon visibly cringed. The girl smirked but quickly wiped her face when he opened his eyes. “Your shorts are still in violation of the dress code. Do NOT let it happen again.”

“Sure, sure.” The girl dug her finger in more, rubbing the groove so the cloth stuck in, giving a hint to the mutilation it hid. The principal puckered his lips in distaste and she grinned like the Cheshire cat. “Well, if that’s all sir, I’d better be off to class. Don’t wanna be late.” She clicked her booted feet together and gave him a sassy salute then dashed off down the hall.

Mr. Witherspoon stepped in front of her, blocking her way. He leaned down close and said in a threatening tone, “I run a tight ship here. I will not allow this school’s reputation to be tarnished. Parents depend and trust me to keep this institution and its students safe. I have read your files. I am perfectly aware of your past antics. I know your grandfather kept you from going to juvie, where you certainly belong. Or maybe in one of those regression camps for troublemaker youth. I will see you sent there if you so much as put another toe out of line. Do we understand each other, Liliana?”

She rolled her eyes insolently, not cowed at all by the invasion of her personal space. She looked sideways and locked eyes for an instant with the prettiest boy she had ever seen. She smiled at the binky in his mouth.

Cameron blushed, his face burning, as the girl caught him staring. Purple punk lips quirked in a smile. She winked at him. He realized he still was sucking on his binky. Humiliation washed over him. The new, trouble-making girl was laughing at the big baby boy. Just like all the other normal kids had when the school had attempted to mainstream him. He quickly spat his pacifier out, but it dangled from his ducky clip. Too little, too late- the girl was already looking away.

“Liliana!” Mr. Witherspoon crossed his arms, looming over her.

Her eyes snapped back to the principal. Her purple lips quirked in a sneer and she looked him up and down aggressively. “Fuck you.” She snarled in oddly accented Hindi.

Both the principal and Cameron blinked at the foreign language. Cameron wondered what language it was, but the principal seemed to know.

“What did you just say?” Mr. Witherspoon barked. “Don’t think you can get fresh with me just because you’ve spent time in India.”

Liliana smoothed her face into a blank mask. “I said, you are right, sir. I will behave myself from now on. I’ll be just as good as my cousin Pissy.”

“Excuse me?”

“Priscilla? Prissy? Priscilla Renine? She’s my cousin.” This time the girl added an “r” into Prissy, making Cameron think her earlier slip up was intentional. He almost smiled at the nickname. He had no love for Priscilla, not after the pranks she had played on him, the bullying, the teasing and tormenting.

Mr. Witherspoon’s brow ticked. “Yes, I know.” Everyone knew who Priscilla was; she was a cheerleader and one of the most popular girls, and a darling of the adults. She was also one of the main reasons Cameron had ended up back in the regression program after his therapist had attempted to mainstream him.

"Yeah. I’ll be the same exemplary student she was. "

The principal’s lips puckered even more. “I somehow doubt that.” He looked down his nose at her.

Liliana grinned. “I will, you’ll see!”

“Humph. You may go, Miss Renine. But remember, I am watching you.”

“Oh, no doubt about that, sir. I don’t doubt that at all.” She ended with a theatrical, mocking bow then glanced up at the door again. Cameron’s blush deepened when she smiled at him and winked again. He giggled then covered his mouth with his hands. Before the principal could say anything else, she dashed off down the hall.

The principal called after her, voice dripping with disgust. “No running in the hall!” He shook his gray head and marched back to his office, the number one place students dreaded. Cameron had a feeling the girl would be spending a lot of time there.

Re: Bad Seed

Cameron, what are you doing?" Mrs. Vesper, who was younger than Ms. Sweeney and was her assistant, came over after helping another student pick up the jumbo Crayola crayons they had dropped or thrown.

Cameron never took his eyes off the hallway. He just pointed to the window. Mrs. Vesper peered out and her eyes widened in recognition as Lili trotted past. She made a loud cluck of disapproval with her tongue, then took Cameron’s soft, slender hand in her own. She tugged, leading him like a nursery school worker leading a toddler. Her lips puckered just like Mr. Witherspoon’s had, like she had bitten into an extremely sour lemon.

“I see. Liliana’s back. Well, don’t you worry, sweetie. That scary girl won’t bother you. I won’t let her. Now, come on, it’s art time. Why don’t you color a pretty picture for your grandma?”

At the mention of his grandmother, Cameron wrinkled his nose as he toddled along besides his teacher. His grandmother Beatrice would not care if he colored her a picture or not. Oh, sure, she would pretend to care, to fuss and coo over him if others were around. It was all show though; she did not give a damn about him. If he was alone with her, she would just smile, pat his head and mumble “how nice” before going back to checking the agenda of her social calendar or gossiping with the other ladies in her Ladies’ Society. She was always on the phone, worse than a teenage girl with her need to keep up with what was going on in her social circle.

Mrs. Vesper took his hand and tugged gently, leading him away from the door and view of the hall. “Aww, your binky fell out. Here you go, baby.” She popped his binky back into his mouth and he accepted it automatically, sucking and moving mechanically as she guided him back to the table he shared with Leroy, who was regressed to a five year old mentality to help him recover from some emotional trauma or other, Cameron had never learned the reason for the other boy’s regression.

Leroy looked up as Cameron sat down and he smiled at the teacher, holding up a scribbled, childish drawing of a dump truck. “Big twuck!” He showed her and Cameron proudly.

“I see. What color is it?” Mrs. Vesper cooed, patting Cameron on top of his head.

“Boo!” Leroy shouted loudly, meaning to say blue. He burst into giggles and clapped his hands at her praise.

“What a smart baby!” Her smile faltered as she sniffed. “I smell stinkies. Who did it?”

A cloud of stench wafted up from the table. A very similar stench would’ve emanated from Cameron’s own behind if he didn’t take a special pill twice a day that nullified fecal odor. Not all the students took the pills, though. Some mommies wanted to easily tell if their baby made a stinky. Cameron’s grandmother did not want anyone knowing what went on in his diapers, so she had him on the pills.

Mrs. Vesper looked down at them both. Cameron let his binky fall. He wanted to tell her he’d just gotten his diaper changed- in fact, she was the one who had started changing him, but he knew she wouldn’t take his word for it. She had been distracted and forgot. Instead of pointing it out , he just sat there quietly debating to try speaking up or hold his tongue.

He just smiled as silly as Leroy. “Quack quack!”

“Well then I’ll just have to check your diapees.” She lifted Cameron’s hoodie up and found her way blocked by his onesie as she pulled back his pants. She squeezed the back of his puffy diaper but found no lumps.

“New diapee.” Cameron lisped before putting his binky back in his mouth.

“Camwin poopies!” Leroy pointed and giggled, accidentally knocking his blue crayon onto the floor.

Mrs. Vesper stood Cameron up, popped open his crotch to poke at his diaper from the leg holes. “Dry as a bone. You must’ve just been changed.”

Cameron rolled his eyes; he’d just told her that. ‘No shit, Sherlock.’ The snarky phrase rolled through his mind, tempting his lips to say the deliciously naughty words. He blushed at the impulse. Those were bad words and good little boys did not use them. Even now, the teachings from his time in the hospital stayed with him, reinforced here in the classroom. Mrs. Vesper snapped him back up and gently pushed down on his shoulder. He immediately plopped down with a loud crinkle and felt a little trickle of warmth as he peed into his diaper.

“So, you must be the guilty culprit.” She pulled Leroy’s pants and diaper back and wrinkled her nose. “Phew. Yup, it’s you. Come on, let’s get you changed, little stinker.” She took him by the hand and led him over to the changing tables.

Cameron wondered at the rebellious streak as he stared down at the blank white paper. He was used to being babied, had been conditioned to enjoy it. It was all he knew. After his time in the hospital, he had been home schooled and outpatient therapy. At home, he was taken care of by a regression specialist nanny since his grandmother was very busy with her competitive social life. She was the only family he had; his grandfather was always overseas on business, and his father……the man was still alive, in prison. After some homeschooling, when he had progressed to a lighter therapy schedule, his therapist suggested he go back to school. Not in the regression program, but in regular school, with the normal students. That had been a disaster.

He picked up a purple crayon, doodling a spike the like ones under the girl’s lip. Liliana. She felt no compunction to obey authority figures like he did. He recalled her smart mouth and blatant defiance. Attitude like that would earn him a one way trip across his teacher’s lap. Parents and guardians of regression students signed consent forms for some old fashioned, across the lap discipline. It helped keep over-sized toddlers in line.

He drew a pair of fat purple lips and wondered if Liliana would behave if she was spanked. Judging how Mr. Witherspoon and Mrs. Vesper reacted, it would take a lot of spanking to make the girl behave. That’s one of the reasons the regression program existed- to help bad kids learn to be good, to reform them. Would she be joining him in class? She’d be regressed so he wouldn’t get to talk much with her. He didn’t talk with his other regressed classmates much, but he still enjoyed playing with them. How far would they regress her? Most of the students in here regressed to preschool or kindergarten level. In the hospital, he had been regressed to a newborn and had worked his way up from there.

Now, mentally, he was no longer regressed. He had been in with the normal students, when the adults tried to mainstream him; it had been like throwing an injured rabbit into a den of starving tigers and resulted in him being put back into the regression room. Here, he was safe from the normal students and their bullying.

Re: Bad Seed

In this classroom, most of the students wore diapers. Except for two girl students; they wore pullups for their potty training. Maybe Liliana would wear pull ups? He hoped she’d be put back in diapers so that would be another thing they would have in common besides their scars.

Cameron sucked on his pacifier as he colored in the purple lips. He felt a little drool trickle down his chin and plop onto his bib. The girl had troublemaker written all over her. Her impudence intimidated him. He’d been taught to be a good boy, a good baby. Part of that teaching was in staying away from bad students like Liliana.

He wondered if she would make fun of him like the other kids had. He was leery of his mainstream peers; past experience taught him to be. He had been in regular classes, and soon as kids found out about what he’d been through, about the marks on his body, teasing him became their favorite new pastime. The burn scars covering most of his body, which he kept hidden by long sleeves and pants even in summer. He’d developed severe social anxiety. Started skipping class, skipping school. He’d had one chief tormentor, ringleader and ever so popular Priscilla Renine, the darling of the school. The ruling queen bitch. The one who’d saddled him with the nickname of Freddy Krueger, since his burn scars looked like the burned, scarred face of the fictional horror movie monster. That nickname and the way the kids had reacted to his scars made him feel more like a monster than the burn scars themselves did.

Things had come to a roiling boil when Cameron got into the medicine cabinet and gobbled down a bottle of aspirin. He’d overdosed and luckily his grandmother’s housekeeper had found him and called 911. A visit to the ER for a stomach pump and a stay in the psych ward had forced his grandmother into action.

Unfortunately, his grandmother Beatrice was close friends with Priscilla’s grandmother Jill. They were both prominent figures in Mapleton’s who’s who social circle and worked closely together planning socials and charity events. Beatrice had talked with the school board- most of the members were close acquaintances of hers and Jill’s, along with the school principal. The best solution for everyone, they concluded, was to put Cameron back into regression therapy. Since he had spent several years in intensive regression therapy in the mental hospital, they decided to put him in the regression therapy branch of the special education program. The R.T. program kept their students completely isolated from the mainstream student body. They even had their own entrance and playground. Parents of R.T. students were more involved than the parents of mainstream children. Mapleton was a well-to-do town and most wives and mothers stayed at home to look after their families. The R.T. mothers all picked up their children, but many of the wealthier parents simply sent their driver or housekeeper to pick their child up.

Cameron colored in the purple lips he drew. Would Liliana laugh at him like the others had? Despite all the therapy he’d been through, he still hated being around his mainstream peers. He saw them as nothing more than rabid animals like pit bulls trained to fight, ready to rip apart whatever was thrown into their cages. Anyone different from them. Liliana was different; she had scars. A huge, deforming scar just like his. Maybe the other kids made fun of her? Many times Cameron wished he’d had the guts to punch Priscilla in her face, to shut her up. He never wanted to hurt her, and it was wrong to hit girls but he just wanted her to stop. To leave him alone. Wanted her to feel every ounce of pain and humiliation had felt.

He was sure the scarred girl had felt the same pain and humiliation he’d been through. But, unlike him, she would stand up for herself. She was so brave- she’d flashed her scar so defiantly, so boldly in the open for all to see. He cringed just thinking of others seeing his scars. The only kids his age who were nice to him were the ones from his burn victim support group when he was younger, and currently his R.T. peers. His clothes kept his scars hidden most of the time, except during diaper changes. When he first joined the school’s R.T. program, Ms. Sweeney and Mrs. Vesper had explained to the other students that he had an accident and had boo-boos. The regressed teens had been curious as little children, and it had been awkward. They had gotten used to Cameron and now he was one of them. From his burn support group, there had been one girl who was jealous of him because his face wasn’t disfigured like hers and he could hide his ugly scars. She had been hard to get along with, until she’d learned his accident had been no accident at all.

Cameron shaded the lips and drew two circles below for her snakebite piercings. Liliana…what had happened to her? Those scars didn’t look like any burn scars he’d seen or had. Had someone hurt her? Priscilla was her cousin. Fear spiked along his spine just thinking of Priscilla; the distinctive clicking of her high heels as she strutted down the halls, her candy apple red lips twisted in a sneer as she mouthed ‘Freddy Krueger’ at him.

The purple crayon slipped past the line as his hand trembled. He let the fat crayon fall and sat with his eyes closed, just sucking vigorously on the large rubber nipple in his mouth to calm himself down. He opened his eyes and stared at the purple lips and piercings. Did the other kids make fun of her? Maybe she got into so much trouble defending herself? He suddenly felt sad, depressed thinking about the girl getting picked on like he’d been. No one deserved to go through that kind of torment. With the attitude she had shown Mr. Witherspoon, Cameron thought Liliana would be able to dish any taunting right back at them.

Re: Bad Seed

Cameron blushed at his unruly thoughts. Fighting was bad. Bad, bad baby. Good babies didn’t fight. He squirmed in his seat, diaper crinkling noisily.

“Cameron? What’s wrong, baby?” Ms. Sweeney came over, checking on him. She looked at his artwork, the lips with the circles underneath….She stared, not able to make sense of it. Maybe he was drawing the face of someone he knew? Maybe those were moles, or beauty marks. Was he drawing one of his nannies, or a character on a toddler’s TV show? She bent down to his level when he didn’t respond. “Sweetie?” She laid a hand on his shoulder. “What did you draw?” She pointed to the paper with her other hand, directing Cameron’s gaze to the purple lips.

At the touch on his arm Cameron looked at her for a moment, then smiled behind his binky and pointed to the ducky on his bib. “Quack quack.”

Ms. Sweeney frowned as she stared down at the paper, then stood up, taking one of his hands and tugging. He stood up and followed passively, not asking where she was taking him. As he toddled along, crinkling noisily, he decided he’d better fess up a little since Ms.Sweeney decided he was having a mental break. She sat at her desk, unlocking a drawer and fumbled through it, pulling out his file.

She referenced some notes, then skimmed through a stack of colorful, childish notebooks on her desk, pulling a green Winnie The Pooh one out. It was his daily journal; the teachers kept them for all the students. Ms. Sweeney and Mrs. Vesper took notes for the parents to read and the parents left notes for the teachers. The notebooks were thought to help aide communication between teachers and parents. She jotted down a few notes and Cameron wanted to roll his eyes but didn’t. Good babies didn’t have attitude. He knew he shouldn’t try to read it; his therapy wasn’t his concern. He just had to be a good baby. His grandmother made decisions about his welfare. But she hardly ever read the journal- his after-school nanny read it. The only time Beatrice would bother was when the nanny had to pester her for a signature.

Ms. Sweeney’s expression was tight, worried. What was she writing? Cameron sighed. He had to get her attention, something he usually didn’t do. He usually just waited and let his teachers take care of everything. He spat his pacifier out, letting it dangle from his ducky clip. “Ms. Sweeney?” he said, softly, hesitantly, and without his babyish lisp. The padding swaddling his crotch grew wet and warm as he peed.

Her head shot up in surprise and she stared at him. “Yes?”

Her surprised, frank stare, as if she were talking to a mentally competent teen and not the regressed infant he was used to being treated like made him nervous. He shifted, diaper crinkling noisily, and fought the urge to put his binky back in his mouth. She stared at him while he continued to stay silent. "Cameron? " Her tone lacked the usual syrupy sweetness.

His lower lip trembled and tears welled in his eyes. He felt like a scared toddler ready to cry. “I-I-Lili-”. He tried to explain his drawing. Unable to take anymore, he popped his pacifier back into his mouth before he had a meltdown like a small child.

Ms. Sweeney instantly slipped back into teacher mode as Cameron collapsed back into his usual toddler behavior. She cooed in her usual cheerful voice. “Shh. Sweetie, it’s okay. You’re just having a rough day. It’s almost nap time, I’ll get your baba ready and you can go lay down on your mat.”

She finished writing the note in his journal. Cameron stood with his head lowered, staring down at his bib and sucking on his binky miserably. He couldn’t even explain himself to his teacher. What had she written? He was worried, and he didn’t want to go back into more intensive therapy- he shook his head. He needed to tell her. “Lili”. He lisped softly behind the comfort of his binky, trying to explain everything simply by saying the girl’s name. Simple explanations pleased his teachers the best.

“Hm? Lily? Oh, I see.” Ms. Sweeney saw the bouquet of tiger lilies on the corner of her desk. The flowers were a bright reddish-orange, their thick, bright petals speckled with dark freckles. “Yes, smart baby. Those are lilies.” She cooed and Cameron let her continue with her misinterpretation, knowing no good would come of trying to correct her.

Her tone perked up, and he played along. “Pwetty.” he lisped and felt a little drool run down his chin and his bib, making him feel like an overgrown infant. Even Leroy didn’t suck on a pacifier, and only wore bibs at lunch or snack time.

Ms. Sweeney gazed at the blossoms and her face softened from a teacher’s smile into the same expression of the women in his grandmother’s romance movies. The teacher let out a happy little sigh. She wore the same smile she got when talking to the janitor Mr. Bruster. “Yes, they are, aren’t they?”. Her eyes had a dreamy look as she gazed at them. “Those are special flowers. Very special. They mean…” Her voice had a husky quality as she thought of the janitor. Her cheeks turned pink like a blushing schoolgirl with her first crush. Ms. Sweeney caught herself, coughed, clearing her throat, and set about straightening the pile of journals on her desk.

Cameron sucked his binky and listened, not curious enough about the flowers to want to know what they meant. Probably something sappy and romantic. His thoughts drifted to the girl he’s seen in the hall. Maybe it was her scar that had him so fascinated, but he knew they’d never meet again since he was kept apart from the normal students and he really wasn’t sure he’d want to meet her. Her mouth, her attitude were overwhelming and fascinating. But it was fun to fantasize. He looked up at his teacher; she was back to her usual self. “Mistew Bustew?” he asked softly and Ms. Sweeney’s cheeks bloomed scarlet again. He smiled.

“Ah, yes. Those are from Mr. Buster. But, let’s get you ready for nap time.” Her tone changed, still gentle but the authoritative teacher was back. She picked up his drawing to slip into his file when Mrs. Vesper bustled over to return a pen to the desk.

“I had to borrow a pen. Don’t know where all of mine went.” She paused, seeing Cameron’s drawing and immediately clocking the purple lips with the piercings. “Oh dear. Looks like Liliana upset him more than I thought.” She huffed.

“What?” Ms. Sweeney focused on her assistant.

“Liliana Renine. It’s been quite a while, but she’s back.” Mrs. Vesper explained sourly, adjusting her horn-rimmed glasses. “Cameron was looking out the door and saw her giving the principal a hard time.”

Ms. Sweeney’s face went poker blank. “You sure it was her?”

“She’s grown, but there’s no mistaking that mouth or that face.” Mrs. Vesper emphasized her certainty with a curt nod.

Ms. Sweeney frowned. “She’s back, and already in trouble again? I suppose she hasn’t change. What a pity- she’s such a pretty girl.”

"Not with what she’s done to her face. " Mrs. Vesper pressed her lips together in disapproval and tapped Cameron’s drawing. “She pierced her face like one of those rock band freaks.”

“Maybe being back home will straighten her up. Jill will teach her how a proper lady should behave. Priscilla’s such a charming young lady.” Ms. Sweeney said optimistically. “Either way, we won’t have to deal with her.”

Mrs. Vesper snorted. “Some apples are rotten to the core. I almost wish she’d get placed with us. I’d teach her a thing or two. Talking back like that…and the poor baby here saw it all. No wonder he’s so shook up.”

"Well that certainly explains it. " Ms. Sweeney opened Cameron’s journal, crossed off her previous notes and scribbled down new ones while Cameron quietly stood by, feeling like a little baby while the grownups talked around him.

Regression therapy had many uses, for everything from healing deep emotional wounds to correcting badly behaved kids. He wondered for the thousandth time if Liliana was so bad she’d end up in regression therapy and learn to wear and use diapers. She’d be conditioned to be a good baby, like Cameron had been taught. She’d be in class with him. He almost wished for it, just to see her again, and to meet her.

“Either way, let’s get these kids laid down for nap time”. Ms. Sweeney finished her notes, took Cameron by the hand and led him to the area with sleeping mats laid out on the floor. Mrs. Vesper did a scheduled diaper check as she collected the students for their nap, writing the results for each student down while Ms. Sweeney mixed up bottles of warm milk fortified with vitamins and minerals.

Cameron hated nap time. He was used to sleeping, and lay on his mat without a sound. Ms. Sweeney and Mrs. Vesper passed the bottles out. He took the plastic bottle in his hands, warm from the sweet milk. He let it drop from his hands and sucked on his binky instead. Mrs. Vesper saw and bent over, pulling his binky out and slipping his bottle in.

Cameron let out a little whine of protest but took his bottle and started sucking like a good baby. The milk was thick and sweet as it flowed down his throat and warmed his tummy. Mrs. Vesper smiled. “Good baby!” she cooed and his conditioning kicked in. Warm pleasure washed over him. He’d made her happy like a good baby. Such a good baby. He smiled in automatic response. He’d been deeply regressed in the hospital, more so than any of the students in the regression program at school, and for a longer amount of time so his conditioned reflexes lingered.

As he drank his bottle, his eyelids grew heavy. The milk of hit his stomach and his thoughts quieted down, drifting away. He barely registered the front of his diaper grow warm as he wet it again. Another wave of pleasure drifted over him and his eyes grew heavier. He closed them and just sucked on his bottle until he’d almost finished it. It fell from his mouth to the floor. His breathing was deep and even and a few lingering drops of milk clung to his plump, pink lips.

Re: Bad Seed

Okay. You’ve got my attention. What else you got?

Re: Bad Seed

Oh there’s a lot more to this one already written and posted. CK is just being coy with this audience, to see if an audience actually exists. :wink:

Re: Bad Seed

audience existing need more to read ASAP please and thank you!

Re: Bad Seed

Release the other chapters already ,I’m getting bored

Re: Bad Seed

This is definitely NOT the way to inspire a writer to do what you want.

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No, it is not. Actually stuff like that is one of the reasons I don’t post what I write online anymore except the occasional ebook under a pen name. And I don’t read the comments section.

Re: Bad Seed

@[Lettle Daddy Donny] Very simply, grow up.

That kind of behavior ought to be grounds for banning. It is very inappropriate and rude.

Now on to the real reason I wanted to post.
I am enjoying this great start to a story. I do hope the author continues it in their own time and pace. Thank you very much for what you’ve written so far.

Re: Bad Seed

If too much were posted at once, I’d probably think, “I don’t have time - I’ll get to this later,” and then not get to it. I am looking forward to more though. :slight_smile:

Re: Bad Seed

Got me hooked on this one, good job…

Re: Bad Seed

“So, Max, three touchdowns in one game. Impressive.”

Max flashed his white teeth in a winning smile at the university recruiter, his barrel chest puffed out and broad shoulders back as he leaned against his locker, book bag tossed carelessly on the school floor. He knew he was one of the top recruits and would have his pick of colleges. His grades weren’t the best; studying was at the bottom of his priority list. Football was his life; he was captain of the varsity squad, and his football record paved his future in gold. He practically had a free ride to the university of his choosing. Most high school jocks would be nervous when being interviewed by a recruiter who could determine whether or not they got on a university team, or if high school was going to be the end of their sports career. This was not the first recruiter to come sniffing around and Max was rather enjoying the attention.

"Haha, yeah. " He laughed sheepishly and scratched the back of his head, looking down at his toes, doing his best to appear modest. He knew this game well. Some of the recruiters liked to pop up unexpectedly and grill their candidates. His father had told him of it- they did it to try and get an honest feel for their potential recruits. Catch them off guard. Put them in the hot seat. Max suppressed a smirk. That little game was not going to work with him. “I don’t really pay much attention to it, though.” He shrugged his big shoulders. “I mean, I just play the game cuz I love it so much.”

The recruiter had his poker face on; even the photo I.D. on his visitor’s badge was serious and focused, his game as well seasoned as his salt and pepper hair. He smiled, his finely oiled mustache twitching as he grinned in conspiracy with Max, letting the boy believe he was taken in by his words, but his eyes were hard and beady, revealing a shrewd intelligence. “Good, good. I’m sure it doesn’t hurt with the ladies, though, eh?”

Max laughed and leaned further into his locker, smiling broadly. “I know some players are players with the ladies, but I’m a one-woman kinda guy.” He echoed the words his father drilled into him.

“Ah, yes. I heard you’d been steady with a Priscilla Renine? I’m sorry to hear about her accident. How have you been holding up?”

Max forced his smile into a sad, puppy dog look. Priscilla- he’d only dated her because she’d been the hottest girl on the cheerleading squad. He’d also dated several of the other girls. Right now, he hadn’t found a girl he liked enough to go steady with, but he hadn’t been lacking in female company. He just had to settle on a girl. He hadn’t been to see Priscilla since the accident months ago, when she’d fallen off the top of the human pyramid during practice. He’d popped by the hospital once, had been freaked out by all the tubes going in and out of her, and disgusted by the white, plastic garment strapped around her waist. His girlfriend, wearing diapers like a baby, like those sped freaks in that regression therapy shit.

“Been holding it together the best I can. Still training hard, studying. Sadly, I haven’t had much free time to see her. But…I still love her.” He said the last part in a tragic stage whisper, one hand over his heart.

“Your grades are barely passing; the “C” in English is your highest. I also heard you only visited your girlfriend, Priscilla, once. When she was in the hospital. She’s been home for several months.”

Max blinked at the sudden shift in tone, caught off guard. He’d never been warned to expect this tactic, especially when he’d had the recruiter digging out of the palm of his hand. “Uh- well- just, there’s been, uh, a lot of practice. I’m a natural at football. Um, studying is, well, uh, it takes, um, more time.” His words tumbled over one another nervously.

The recruiter smirked a little, having his own act to catch the players he was interviewing off guard, lull them into a false sense of security then strike. He leaned in a little; the high school senior was huge; he had the hulking build of a line backer. No wonder he was a natural at football. The eighteen year old boy was taller than the recruiter, making him crane his neck up to look into his face, but the older man was the one who made the boy flinch back and cower.

“All that is water under the bridge. Neither here nor there. What I’d really like to hear about is a rather big incident from several years ago. Cameron MacLeod ring any bells?” The recruiter’s nasty smirk went all the way up to his eyes. He had Max pinned like a frog about to be dissected.

Max licked his lips, shifting his weight and kicking his bookbag. He felt a flash of anger; leave it up to that big baby, that burned, diaper wearing freak. Prissy was the one who started up with the teasing. The burned boy cried so easily that teasing him had become one of Max’s favorite past times. Especially when Prissy was around; she’d laugh and clap her hands in delight as the diaper boy sobbed. Hell, teasing the diapered freak whose burned skin looked like Freddy Kruger was what brought them together. And now, that little bit of harmless teasing was pissing all over his future prospects. Max wanted to punch Freddy Kruger right in his delicate, girly face.

“Well?” The recruiter pressed.

“Um, uh, well, it’s-”

"Hey, dude. Chill. It was a long time ago. Like, three year or something, yeah? Maxie here was young and stupid, but he’s learned his lesson. "

Both males turned and looked at the source of the female voice that cut sharply through their conversation. She was hot, for a spiked freak. Max’s eyes fell instantly to the bounce of her voluptuous breasts, the curves of her hips as she walked. Her body language just screamed ‘come fuck me, big boy’.

The female joined them, casually slinging one arm around Max’s broad shoulders as if they knew each other well, and held her other hand out to the recruiter. “Liliana Renine. Kinda new here, and cousin of Priscilla Renine.”

The recruiter shook her hand, recovering from his surprise at the interruption faster than Max, who still floundered. “The cheerleader who fell and broke her skull?”

"Nearly broke it. So sad. But she’s doing much better now. Kinda. I mean, she still shits herself and needs diapers, and she drools all over the place. But Maxie here’s been a real trooper. He’s called her on the phone loads of times. "

Max was flabbergasted. Liliana. The last time he’d seen her was when they were small children, right before that whole big fiasco involving her, Priscilla, and a puppy. One of the girls- rumors flew, and the whole community was never really certain WHO had kicked that puppy. It was widely known that one of those girls hand stomped and kicked that puppy, and the majority opinion was Liliana was the culprit. Prissy swore up and down that her rotten cousin Liliana was the puppy kicker, but others said Prissy had done it.

Now here Liliana stood before him, all grown up, and helping him out. He’d be completely surprised, except he had been talking with Liliana on Facebook. She’d been talking with all of Prissy’s friends after looking them up on Facebook, trying to get back in the groove after spending several years with her grandfather in India.

“Sounds like the poor girl’s cheerleading career is over.” The recruiter said sympathetically. “But that doesn’t seem to have affected Max’s performance much.”

“Oh, it’s been hard on him. It’s all in the focus, yeah? He’s like a pitbull- game on and he doesn’t let go of that bone.”

“Uh-yeah. W-what she said.” Max stuttered, distracted by the soft breast squishing against his chest as Liliana leaned forward.

“Yes. Now, Max, about the incident with Cameron. There were several newspaper articles on it. What do you have to say about it?”

'It was long ago, and um," Max began, stuttering. “It was all a misunderstanding-”

Liliana leaned forward, stepping between Max and the recruiter. “Look. It was a long time ago. What Max did to that poor boy was horrid. He was not the only one bullying the boy; the chief tormentor was my cousin. But that was years ago. Max was young and stupid. Since then, he’s learned his lesson. He feels just awful about it. But he’s a changed man now. I mean, hell, look, he’s standing here buddy-buddy with me.” She gestured to herself- purple lips, snake bites, leather boots, ripped stockings.

“That IS surprising.” The recruiter agreed. Liliana just grinned while Max stared down at her breasts, glanced at the recruiter, obviously trying to focus on him, but his gaze kept straying back to those lovely boobs. “And I’ve gotta get going. Max, thank you for your time.”

“Yeah. Uh, yes, thank you, I hope to hear from you.” Max mumbled, then straightened up and shook hands like his father had made him practice doing to charm the recruiters. Once the man had walked off, Max rounded on Liliana, who had breezed away. She was halfway down the hallway, and he scrambled to catch up to her.

“Hey! You!” He hollered, causing several people to look, and a few nerdy looking boys to scurry out of his way, afraid he was after them. The girl never stopped. He stormed after her, eventually cutting her off. She didn’t pause, merely walked around him.

“Yo! Prissy’s cousin!” He bellowed, irritation growing that the bitch was ignoring him.

She paused for one moment, shrugged, then kept walking without looking back.

“Liliana!” He roared her name.

She paused and looked over her shoulder. “You should’ve said that the first time.” She grinned, seeing the anger in his face. “You’re welcome for helping you. I just felt like being nice. Call it a whim.” She shrugged. “You are Pissy’s boyfriend, after all. But if you really wanna thank me, you’ll come by and see her sometime. Now, I gotta get to class before the principal gets his panties in a wad again.” With that, she walked off.

Max just stared at her, shaking his head. Prissy was right about her cousin. Bitch was bat-shit crazy. Hella hot, but fucking crazy. He paused, recalling something his father had said, about the crazy bitches being the best in bed.

Re: Bad Seed

Cameron sat at the table, his paci dangling from the side of his shirt, held in place by his ducky strap that matched the onesie hidden under his hoodie. He tugged on the green bib tied around his slender neck. The strings were too tight, cutting into his soft skin. The bib was terry cloth with plastic backing, and had a huge, bright yellow ducky in the center of it. He squirmed, his belly still full of milk. His diaper crinkled loudly as he shifted his weight from side to side. He felt it squish, warm and wet, around him. When he’d woken up from his nap, his diaper had been checked and results marked down but it wasn’t wet enough for a change just yet. He still enjoyed the freedom of being a big boy, at least in class- he was not strapped into a highchair, and he was allowed to feed himself. He still needed his bib and diapers, though.

He tugged a little more, but the bib stayed tight around his neck. He whined and wished he had a velcro bib, which would give out under his tugging. The tie and snap bibs stayed put. Mrs. Vesper heard his whine; she finished tying Leroy’s bib onto him then came back to Cameron. “What’s wrong, sweetie?”

Cameron tugged on his bib. “Tight.”

Mrs. Vesper bent over, checking the space between his neck and the bib. She untied the bib, then refastened it and checked the neck gap again. “There we go, that’s better. And no mark on your neck.” She said, relieved she’d gotten it fixed in time before it left a mark. Cameron was just happy to be able to breathe again in comfort. “Now I’ll go get you so some milkies.” She said in a cheery sing-song voice as she went off a side door into the small, attached kitchen.

Ms. Sweeney was on the opposite side of the room, passing out little paper plates with two chocolate chip cookies on them from a tray she carried. The regression therapy students had their bibs on. Mrs. Vesper bustled out with another tray and began passing out sippy cups full of warm milk.

“Cookies!” Leroy grinned and bounced in his chair, a little drool running down his chin but he didn’t notice or care. He picked one up and shoved it whole into his mouth, still giggling as he chewed and spraying crumbs. Mrs. Vesper floated by, placing a sippy cup on the table in front of him. Leroy grabbed it clumsily with both hands, mouth still full of cookie. Crumbs and drops of milk dribbled down onto his bib as he sucked hard on the sippy cup and overfilled his mouth.

Cameron was much quieter. He stared down at his cookies and sippy cup of milk. His belly still felt mostly full from the bottle he’d had at naptime. Cookies were a special treat; they usually had some healthy, organic snack the moms took turns sending in. It was usually gluten free, too. The regression therapy program was very parent and guardian involved. The other students all had very involved moms, who were well off stay at home moms with more money and time on their hands than they knew what to do with. So they’d wrapped themselves up in their kids, and they seemed to enjoy the regression more than their children did. Marital problems like husbands with good jobs who spent more time at work, and with their young female secretaries, than was strictly necessary were swept under the rug, ignored and kept secret. Disgraceful. Scandalous. Husbands worked late, went out for drinks with the boys, went on extended business trips, screwed their mistresses, and the wives liked the income and denied their problems by getting so wrapped up in motherhood they didn’t want to let go.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Ms. Sweeney touched a cool hand to Cameron’s forehead. “You’ve been acting off all day. Are you not feeling well? Your forehead’s not hot.” She looked down worriedly at him.
Cameron took his sippy cup and held it up to her, shaking the milk inside and pointing at it. “Moo-moo.” He said. She never listened when he tried to talk to her on an adult level- she treated him as if he was still regressed like the other students, so he’d stopped trying.

Ms. Sweeney lifted Cameron’s hoodie and poked at his belly. He groaned as something in it rolled. She smiled. “Ah, I think I know what the problem is.”

She squatted down and took both of Cameron’s wrists in her hands, gently guiding him down onto her knee. She took a cloth from the tray she’d carried and laid it on her shoulder, using the towel as a makeshift burper cloth. She rested Cameron’s head on her shoulder, the slight weight of his slender body supported by her own, then rubbed his back. She rubbed small circles on his back, her hand drifting down to his lower back then she started patting him. His stomach rolled again. He tried to squirm, but her embrace held him still. The front of his diaper grew warm as a squirt of pee came out of him. She kept up her pattern of rubbing and patting. A small fart slipped out and he wondered idly if it was just a fart, or if he’d messed himself. Either way, it was nothing for him to worry about. During his regression hypnosis, he’d been taught on a subconscious level to trust his diapers, and his caregivers. His diapers weren’t his problem to worry about.

After one last, sharp pat a big bubble rolled up from his stomach and erupted in a loud burp. Some milk dribbled from his lips and landed on the burper cloth. “Yup, I knew there was some gas hiding in there.” Ms. Sweeney sounded pleased. “I bet that feels better, doesn’t it, baby?”

Cameron winced at the yucky after-taste that had come up with his burp. “Tastes yucky.” He got his point across in a toddler lisp.

Ms.Sweeney laughed. “I’m sure, sweetie. Now, eat your cookies, it’ll take away the yucky taste.” She sat him back down and patted the top of his head.

Leroy was already shoving his second cookie into his mouth, a ring of chocolate, milk, and cookie crumbs smeared around his lips. Cameron picked up a cookie and took a little nibble.

Someone knocked on the door. The students were too busy eating their cookies and drinking their sippy cups full of milk. Cameron sat his cookie down and looked curiously as Mrs. Vesper and Ms. Sweeney both made their way to the door. No one ever bothered the regression therapy room.

The door opened, and the girl with purple lipstick stumbled through as if she’d been shoved.

Re: Bad Seed

She shot a smoldering glare over her shoulder and for a moment Cameron thought she might actually breathe fire. His heart skipped a beat. Did they send her here to be regressed? Or was she put here because, like him, she was bullied and the principal had decided the easiest thing to do was dump her in here, like they had done with Cameron. Cameron had been separated from the bullies, and the problem was considered solved. He hoped they were just dumping her here- it would be nice to have a fellow student to talk to. And if she was in this room, he was sure she’d end up in diapers, too.

Mr. Witherspoon stepped in behind Liliana, shutting the door firmly with a loud click. Mrs. Vesper pursed her lips, but before she could open them, the older Ms. Sweeney stepped forward. “What’s going on?” She kept her face carefully blank while Mrs. Vesper made no effort to hide her displeasure at the arrival. Liliana had been absent from the small community for several years, but the mark she had left was not forgotten. The scandal of Liliana, Priscilla and the abused puppy was still talked about today.

Mr. Witherspoon held up his hand. “Vice principal Lang is out sick today, and there’s a bit of an emergency in the in-school suspension. I was having a talk with this young lady in my office when a fight broke out in the I.S.S. room. Secretary Clark is phoning the parents, but we need to keep the two young gentlemen in suspension separated. We’re a little short-staffed in the office today, and I do not feel comfortable leaving this one alone and unsupervised. Or mixing her in with other trouble makers. I’d appreciate it if she could stay in your time-out just until I get the current situation under control. This will be her last chance to be on her best behavior.” He said the last part with a stern warning directed at the girl. She smiled, innocent as a cat with a canary. He frowned, then returned his gaze to Ms. Sweeney.

Mrs. Vesper’s face puckered as if she was sucking on a particularly sour lemon as the principal spoke. Her eyes were narrowed slits. Liliana had her arms crossed, leaning against the wall, and widened her smile at Mrs. Vesper’s sour disapproval. The girl almost looked happy to be here, and the special education teacher smelled a big, fat rat. She suspected the girl was up to something.

Ms. Sweeney’s eyes focused on Liliana as the principal talked, sizing the girl up. Feeling the stare, Liliana returned the gaze, sizing her up as well, showing no fear or respect.

“……” The head teacher looked at Mr. Witherspoon. “It would be just for a short period of time?”

He nodded.

“If she misbehaves, she will face the same discipline as any other student in this room.” Ms. Sweeney decided.

Mr. Witherspoon paused, mustache twitching. “Well…she’s not technically in the program-”

Ms. Sweeney cut him off. “Then she doesn’t belong in this room. We’re making an emergency exception here, Mr. Witherspoon. At your request. She enters this room, she abides by the rules.”

“But, you see, the consent form-”

Ms. Sweeney talked over him again. “Then I shall simply call her grandmother Jill.” She inclined her head, as if that had settled the matter. “She’s the head of the Ladies’ Society I’m in, and she’s also head of the PTA. I already have her number on hand.”

Mr. Witherspoon dithered, apparently suddenly worried about Liliana misbehaving and ending up getting spanked without a consent form, and the ramifications that would mean for him and the school. “Jill never signed the consent form for Priscilla…”

“Mainstream students are not as supervised as the regression therapy ones, and they have different discipline protocols.” Mrs. Vesper spoke up at last, backing Ms. Sweeney up. If the troublemaker was here in this room, she could keep an eye on the brat and find out what she was up to. No normal student would have that smile on their face, like they actually wanted to be here.

“Grandma’s not gonna give a rat’s-err- care. She won’t care. I don’t care, either.” Liliana’s dry voice cut across the adults’, though she halted her speech at the last moment, as if just realizing that swearing right now would be a really stupid move. “Grandpa Jack’s beaten my a-” She checked herself again. “Gramps has spanked me when I’ve misbehaved. My father has, too.” She said as calmly as if she was discussing the weather. The last time she’d been spanked was when she was younger and her father wailed her ass raw with a belt. Pain and swift punishments did not curb her as it would most children; she had been spurred on, and had bitten her father on the thigh so hard she had drawn blood and left him with a permanent imprint of her teeth.

Mrs. Vesper scowled; Liliana ignored her. Mr. Witherspoon’s frown deepened, and Ms. Sweeney seemed pleased but surprised that Liliana had checked herself. Ms. Sweeney smiled and gestured languidly with her hand. “There you have it, Mr. Witherspoon. It’s settled.” She nodded her head with a note of finality.

“Well-then-I suppose…it’s alright.” Mr. Witherspoon’s carefully groomed mustache twitched, as if he really wasn’t sure about it but could find no grounds to protest on. He unlocked and opened the door. “Liliana. Behave. When I come back, we’ll continue our discussion about your inappropriate antics earlier.” He shut the door, and Mrs. Vesper locked it.

Liliana saluted as the principal left. “I wouldn’t dream of missing it for the world.”

Mrs. Vesper whirled, ready to pounce down the disrespectful girl’s throat.

Cameron watched, fascinated. Liliana seemed perfectly unperturbed at the chaos she’d caused- her metallic purple lips twitched in a smirk she tried to suppress, as if she was enjoying herself. If he was in her shoes, being at the center of so much attention, he’d be having a panic attack and bawling his eyes out. Just having one of his teachers frown or look sternly at him was enough to reduce him to tears, blubbering about how sorry he was.

Liliana stiffened, facing Mrs. Vesper, her smirk widening, the snake bite piercings under her lower lip glinting in the artificial light overhead.

“Liliana. This is-” Mrs. Vesper started.

Ms. Sweeney laid a hand on Mrs. Vesper’s arm, silencing her. "Please see to the babies. " Her voice was a gentle command. Mrs. Vesper looked from Liliana to her boss. She huffed, deflating like a punctured balloon.

“Very well. But I’m keeping an eye on her.” She huffed off, bustling over to the tables and grabbing a box of wet wipes on her way, to start cleaning hands and faces.
“Liliana, right?” Ms. Sweeney asked pleasantly but firmly, as if only asking out of politeness. She already knew who Liliana was. “I’m Ms. Sweeney, head teacher of the regression therapy program.”

Liliana nodded curtly. “Yo, sup, teach?” She sounded as if she was repeating slang she’d picked up in the halls, particularly from rough boys. She raised a clenched fist, offering it up for a fist bump. Ms. Sweeney stared at her, finding her actions odd. “No?” Lili shrugged, straightened up from her slouch and held out her hand. “Liliana Renine, but everyone calls me Lili.” Ms. Sweeney stared at the offered hand for a moment, checking it over to make sure the girl did not have a prank buzzer on it, before shaking it.

“This is a special room. I ask that you please be considerate of the students’ special needs, and that you follow our rules for this room. If you don’t, you’ll get the same consequences as any student here.”

“Yup. Got it. You covered that with Mr. Witheredsack.” Lili said, gazing around the room at the banner of the alphabet running around the top of the walls, at the stacks of toys ranging from toddler up through kindergarten levels, at the plastic potty chairs in one corner, to the huge changing tables piled high with bags of diapers, each one with a student’s name on it. She looked at the mentally regressed students in their bibs and sippy cups with the unmistakable diaper bulges around their crotches. She felt eyes on her, and met the gaze of the pretty boy who’d watched out the door earlier. Cameron. Her gaze trailed from his effeminate face down to the bright yellow duck on his bib. She gave him a small half smile, and he blushed , ducking his head shyly. It had taken quite a bit of careful prodding various students to find out who the pretty boy was without arousing suspicion or seeming too curious.

Ms. Sweeney coughed to cover her laugh at what the girl called the principal. “What happens out there is between you and Mr. Witherspoon. It’s not my concern, and I won’t punish you for it. Your behavior in here is. You’re a guest here, and I expect proper behavior. Now, there’s a free seat over here.” She gestured to a small table where no students were seated.

“Got it.” Liliana noted how close it was to Cameron and sauntered over. She hooked her boot under a chair leg, pulled it out with her foot, sat down, still looking around her.

Liliana still eyed the teacher. This teacher- Ms. Sweeney- knew her grandmother, knew Liliana’s reputation and she was giving her a pass on her behavior. LIke everyone else in the small yet well to do town of Mapleton, this teacher knew of her checkered past. Yet she wasn’t judging her by it; it was the closest thing to a warm welcome she’d gotten.

Mrs. Vesper escorted one of the two girls in the class, back to her seat after helping her with the potty, and praising her for keeping her pull up dry just like a big girl. The regressed girl had a smiley face sticker on the frilly peter pan collar of her dress as a reward. Mrs. Vesper stilled as she saw Liliana sitting at a table. “Mr. Witherspoon said to put her in time out.”

Ms. Sweeney just smiled sweetly. “If she breaks his rules, then its up to him to punish her. She’s broken no rules in here, and she gets a clean slate in here. Now, Lili.”

Re: Bad Seed

This is getting interesting.

While I don’t tend to go for forced regression, there is enough well-written story here now to keep me reading. Thanks for posting this one here.

The last segment you posted looks cut off prematurely. A prompt fix would be nice if so. :slight_smile:

Edit to add: Also found right at the end of the last segment: “new her Grandmother.” Should be knew…

Could there be a reason I suspect that Liliana’s inside doesn’t quite match her outside, or at least doesn’t anymore?

Re: Bad Seed

Thank you for commenting. :slight_smile: Ally, thanks for pointing out the typo. Sorry about the premature cutoff; I actually cut it off there on purpose because that was the best place I could find at the time to cut it off, otherwise the scene was too long.

“Now, Lili. You want me to call you Lili, right? You can call me Ms. S., it’s what some of my students use.” Ms. Sweeney stayed standing instead of crouching down as Liliana sat on the oversized, childish chair, to get across the point she was an authority figure.

Liliana was still gazing around, though the effeminate boy in the ducky bib kept attracting her attention. “Lili. Yeah.” She said, somewhat distractedly as she studied the boy. She’d like to say her friends called her Lili but what few friends she had were left in India. After the incident with her cousin Priscilla and the injured puppy, the incident that had gotten her into so much trouble and still left a sour feeling with the residents of Mapleton, her Grandfather Jack had taken her to India, where she had grown up on his tiger preservation farm.

“Lili it is then. Now, would you like something to drink? I’ve got juice boxes or milk, but you’d have to have that in a sippy cup. Classroom rules.” Ms. Sweeney explained with a gentle smile.

“Nah. Thanks.” Lili curled her purple upper lip in a sneer at the mention of a sippy cup.
Then she had second thoughts. She should show she was willing to play along. This golden opportunity to get to the pretty boy in the ducky bib had dropped into her lap, and she’d be an idiot to ruin it. She’d already resolved to swallow her pride to get what she wanted.

“Actually,juice would be cool.” She smiled up at the teacher A juice box wasn’t that humiliating. She already felt like she’d been tossed back to kindergarten. No, not tossed back- she chose to come back. There was someone here who had peeked her interest, and to get to the prize, she had to be a good girl and play along. Lili was never content with just playing- she, like Priscilla, preferred to be the master puppeteer.

Her first few classes had been uneventful, until one of the girls who dressed a lot like her cousin Priscilla made some comment about her spikes, piercings, and all that black crap on her face. Liliana, in returned, asked the girl if she was relieved that her last pregnancy test had been negative and whether her cooter still smelled funny. The other girls had laughed, along with a few of the lunk head jocks. Though a couple of the jocks had exchanged worried looks, as if worried they’d caught something from the girl with the smelly cooter. Liliana then had smiled sweetly and held out her hand, introducing herself as Priscilla’s cousin. A few of Priscilla’s close friends, who were Prissy’s fellow cheerleaders, had shaken it warily, as if they weren’t quite sure what to make of her. Priscilla had talked badly about her freak cousin, and Liliana, before coming to school, had gone through Prissy’s Facebook to get to know the students. Specifically, those closest to Prissy, and had poked around on their Facebook pages as well. All it had taken was a few comments regurgitated from their Facebook squalling about the latest boyband and latest fashion trend, and Prissy’s friends had accepted her into their little clique. Prissy’s friends thought Liliana may have dressed like a weird freak- but maybe that was from growing up overseas?- but she knew what was cool and she was funny.

Out in the hall, some of Prissy’s friends had heard about what happened to her and wanted to see her scars. So Liliana had made a big joke out of it, laughing and making up bullshit stories about her accident. She’d pulled up her shirt and let them touch and poke at her scar while she joked about starring in a horror movie.

That’s when one of the boys, who’d been admiring the curve of Lili’s breasts and the round curves of her ass in those tight, short shorts, made a comment about the boy called Freddy Kruger- a boy covered in burns who was in the sped class. Before Lili could reply, the principal had come upon their little group and saw Liliana’s outfit, and her exposed stomach. Again. Rather than pull her shirt down, act uncomfortable and embarrassed, Liliana had left her scar out and flashed a peace sign at the principal, asking “Yo, 'sup doc?” He’d been less than pleased with her antics and marched her down to his office.

“Juice it is then.” Ms. Sweeney stared down at her for a moment, not sure what to make of the girl, but wanting to give her the benefit of the doubt. She went into the small kitchen, opening up a refrigerator and pulling out a juice box then sat it down in front of Liliana.

“Thanks.” Liliana nodded, already slouched in the chair and looking comfortable instead of the out of place interloper that she really was. Inside, she felt awkward in the giant nursery.

“You’re quite welcome.” Ms. Sweeney said sweetly and went over to her desk as Mrs. Vesper had her hands full taking care of the other students.

Lili took the juice box, feeling like she’d shrunk or went back in time and was in elementary school. She pulled the little plastic wrapper off the straw, then poked it through the foil-covered opening on top of the green apple juice box. She pretended to stare at the play area filled with mounds of toys and padded vinyl mats for the overgrown toddlers to play on.

Most of the students were too busy munching drinking their milk and playing with the student sitting next to them to give her more than a curious glance; they were easily distracted. Regressed to a toddler’s attention span. Except for the boy in the pale blue striped hoodie and ducky bib. He tried to keep his attention on his cookies, but he kept sneaking glances at her. She watched him out of the corner of her eyes. Everytime he’d look at her, she’d catch his gaze and smile at him. He’d blush and look away, like he had the first time she saw him in the hall.

Re: Bad Seed

He was a pretty thing. Clearly a boy but with a sharply feminine bent giving him an air of androgyny. He looked to be around her height, though she hadn’t seen him up close so didn’t know for certain. Soft pink lips and big eyes framed by long, inky lashes. Thin; hardly any meat on his bones, and even under the baggy sweatshirt and loose jeans she could easily see the telltale diaper bulge. The crotch in his pants had been specially made to accommodate very thick, bulky diapers.

Ms. Sweeney picked up the phone on her desk and dialed. Liliana flicked a quick glance at her. She knew calling her grandmother would be futile. Jill would halfheartedly consent, not caring either way what became of Liliana. She had always favored Priscilla, had believed her after the incident that tore open a gaping chasm in the family dynamics. Liliana was too much like Grandpa Jack, in looks and mannerisms, and that won her no favor with her grandmother. It only made her grandmother Jill more certain of her guilt. Jill had never forgiven Jack for decades worth of cheating, for breaking their marriage vows and humiliating her. Jack had never apologized, did not want forgiveness- he was still with his mistress. So Liliana ended up bearing the brunt of Jill’s repressed, stored up anger.

Ms. Sweeney hung up the phone and came back over. “Well, Lili, looks like you’re officially mine until Mr. Witherspoon returns.”

“It beats being in Algebra.” She joked, tearing her attention away from the pretty boy to look up at the teacher. The look on Ms. Sweeney’s face reminded her sharply of Asha, her grandfather’s assistant and right hand at the tiger sanctuary, when she was skeptical or less than pleased with Liliana’s behavior. Liliana held up a hand, thumb over her folded pinky and other three fingers straight up in the air. “I’ll be on my best behavior. Scout’s honor.” Never mind the fact she’d never been a scout. She shot the teacher a winning smile.

"I trust you will. You might be with us a while- would you like a coloring book or some sketch paper? We have picture books. "

“Thanks, but I’m good.” Liliana pulled out her iPhone and held it up questioningly. “I got some games on here. It’s on vibrate. I’ll be quiet as a mouse.” She sat the phone down and pulled up a game app. Ms. Sweeney watched, thinking about it for a moment then nodded, deciding to give the girl the benefit of the doubt, and went off to check on a student who was squirming in his seat and tossed his empty sippy cup onto the floor.

Cameron really didn’t have room in his tummy for a snack. He had tried to let Leroy take his cookies, but Mrs. Vesper had swooped down, caught Leroy’s wrists, gave them a gentle, reprimanding tap and told him no, then told Cameron to eat his cookies. He was more interested in the new girl- Liliana. Lili. He picked up his sippy cup and took a drink of the milk and felt the front of his diaper grow warm. He’d always enjoyed the sensation of a wet diaper, except when it was full and clammy and cold- that’s one of the few times he’d grow fussy over the state of his diaper. On occasion, it still caused him to cry until someone changed him.

He snuck a glance at Lili as she poked her straw into her juice box. He was a little astonished the teachers allowed her to open her own box. He shifted, bulky diaper crinkling noisily. She smiled at him. A few drops of milk escaped the sippy cup as he sucked, running down his chin then dripping onto his ducky bib. He blushed and ducked his head, pulling his sippy cup out of his mouth so fast the last drops of milk dribbled out, soaking his chin and splashing his bib. He heard the drops hit and felt like an overgrown baby trying to get the attention of a big kid. Here he sat in a bib, diaper and covered in milk while she sat over there, no diaper, no bib, with a juice box she’d been allowed to open herself. He peeked shyly up at her through the fringe of his bangs. Her eyes glinted with pleasure and mischief as she lifted her juice box up to him in silent toast and took a sip, as if trying to make him feel better about his sippy cup. Or teasing him.

He blushed and looked down at his cookies then over at her. Her smile was gentle, not a laughing sneer, and it left him confused. Part of him feared she was making fun of him; that was the part that feared anyone from the mainstream classes. But her expression didn’t match the memories of the jeering faces that haunted him. So…maybe she wasn’t laughing at him. He thought of the massive scar on her side, gouges of her flesh missing. Maybe she knew what it was like to be laughed at? He still wondered if she’d be joining them, end up diapered and bibbed like he was.

Cameron peeked at her again. She caught his eye, lifted her juice box up again then motioned her head towards his sippy cup. He blushed, grabbed his cup. She raised her juice box up yet again in a silent toast; he hesitated a moment, smiled softly then raised his sippy cup up a little. She put the straw to her lips and he took a small sip of his milk, careful not to dribble anything this time. The milk on his bib was all the proof in the world he needed to show he was still just a baby who needed a bib to keep his clothes clean.

“If you’re in this classroom, you follow the rules for students. That means ALL rules.” Mrs. Vesper swooped down upon Liliana, a white terry cloth bib with plastic backing trimmed in pink with Elmo on it held in one pudgy hand, her fingernails like red talons. Her horn-rimmed glasses slipped down her nose as she bent over.

Liliana sucked hard, quickly emptying the juice box, then held it up, shaking it. “It’s empty, so I’m good.” She stretched, nearly cuffing Mrs. Vesper with her spiked sleeves and forcing the teacher to take a step back.

“You will wear this. Or face disciplinary measures.” She stepped forward again, closing in on Liliana’s personal space, but the girl didn’t seem bothered by it. She just looked lazily up at Mrs. Vesper, purple lips curling into a half-smirk.

“You’ve been banging on about that since I stepped foot in here. Spanking is the “disciplinary measure”.” She said it more of a statement than a question. Cameron’s belly did a funny flip flop to see her so defiant, something he could never do even when he wanted to.

“Yes. Ms. Sweeney got permission from your grandmother.”

Liliana smiled, her eyes taunting. “Really excited to “discipline” me, aren’t ya? I know I got a nice ass, but, no offense, you’re not really my type, and I’m not into bottoming.”

The gleam of wanting to humiliate the trouble maker faded to confusion on the teacher’s face. “What?” She wasn’t used to students who talked back as much as Liliana did.

Liliana’s face gloated twitched with laughter, which she tried to suppress. “You’re a married woman-surely you know what I mean? But, BDSM? Yeah?” The teacher’s red-taloned fingers curled into fists, scrunching the girly bib.

Mrs. Vesper’s face paled in sheer shock, then as her anger mounted, that ghostly white gradually turned puce purple as Liliana’s metallic lips stretched into a Cheshire cat grin. She shouldn’t provoke the teacher. But the teacher had been baiting her, and Liliana just wasn’t able to resist the instinctive impulse to bait back.