Extra Credit - Part 3 (Patreon)

"I.... umm... I think maybe something is wrong," Kim admitted, chewing nervously on her bottom lip. "I-I'm sorry..."

"For what?" the professor asked, furrowing his brow. "It isn't your fault."

"I-I should have told you sooner," Kim said. "I-I was..."

"Embarrassed?" the professor offered, after Kim tried, and failed, to come up with the right word for what felt like an eternity. "There's no need for that. Now, what symptoms have you seen?"

"Umm..." Kim felt herself freezing up, though, unlike during her classes lately, where she felt intimidated by the other students, and especially the teachers, this was more because she had no idea what that big word he'd said had meant. All her teachers liked talking like that, and it was getting harder and harder to keep up.

"Other subjects have mentioned a decrease in their continence levels," the professor spoke up again. "I changed the formula, however, so I hoped that wouldn't be the case with this version."

Kim shook her head. "No, I-I don't think that's it," she told him.

"Are you sure?" he asked, glancing down her body, making her squirm and blush. She wasn't - she had no clue what he'd said - but she nodded anyway. "Kim..." he bent down, looking her in the eyes, "Are you having trouble with incontinence?"

"No!" she insisted. "My ink... inktopolis is fine!"

"All right," the professor sighed, "I think we need to have a little talk..."

__________________________________

"Get back to work, young lady!" 

Kim glared back over her shoulder in annoyance, watching the kids in class giggle at her being berated. "B-But I..." she huffed, the only response a finger pointed at the board she'd been writing on. She turned with a sigh, praying that she could make it through her assigned lines in time to prove what she was writing over and over wrong... But, unfortunately, that was starting to seem more and more unlikely.

Luckily, the professor had an antidote ready to go, which neutralized the initial drug and sped along the process of repairing the damage it had done. Unfortunately, it didn't work nearly fast enough, and, in order to protect his secret, and keep anyone from getting suspicious, Kim was suddenly, as far as her university was concerned, 'studying abroad'.

In reality, she'd been demoted back to grade school, under the care of the professor's adult daughter. She was nice enough, though Kim wished she would let her go clothes shopping again... The first time, Kim had been so determined to look like a big girl, while still being totally oblivious to the idea that skirts could lead to her diaper being visible - the very thing that had tipped the professor off that she really did have incontinence issues, seeing as she'd entered his office with half her wet diaper completely in the open - or that, to someone with her correct mental age, that should be shameful. She just knew that she'd seen lots of big girls at her old school, wearing super short skirts, so she'd looked for the smallest ones she could find.

Now, with the drug mostly out of her system, she understood everything again, including just how boring these lessons she had to sit through really were, and, more importantly realized how ridiculous she looked, surrounded by all these kids, her diaper often barely hidden under her clothes. Was it really a surprise that, whenever she could, she'd try to get out of the infantile garment?

As always, she'd failed, and now she was stuck writing, "I must wear diapers to school" over and over, knowing the rest of the class could see she was back wearing them, that they likely could tell, by the way she was wiggling, that, any moment now, if her teacher continued to refuse to listen to her, she was about to fill them with a huge, stinky, squishy mess... And, sure enough, after one last, desperate wave of her hand, she felt a push from her gut, and the rear of her diaper began to expand.

The professor told her that he would do everything he could to make sure she could graduate when she got back to her real school - which, no matter how hard she begged, he insisted was not going to be possible until the next school year, not without giving away what had really happened. The more the drug wore off, the less she believed he could really do it... More than likely, she'd have one more semester of college once she made it through these months of grade school... 

She'd been so close to getting out into the real world as an adult; now, as she grunted and groaned in front of her half-full board of lines, telling her how much she needed the diapers she was in the midst of filling, it felt further away than ever. Her hope for that wonderful day when she got to go back to college was that she really was as recovered as she thought she was from the drug, and that she would be allowed out of diapers long enough to be sure she didn't need them, to make sure there were no humiliating accidents... Her hope for now, mere months - that would, no doubt, feel like years - before then was that she wouldn't get a note sent home with her about this, or else she might be sent to be without supper, and with a sore bum, again.