Talent (Patreon)

A short story commission from an anonymous Patron.

"Are you ready?" he asked, standing there, beside her, in the wings, waiting to be announced.

"More than you know," she replied, pretending she didn't see his outstretched hand, offering comfort that might have been nice, though not for the reasons he thought. She didn't want to upset him, or make him suspect anything, so she hoped he believed she just hadn't noticed, but she also had no intention of actually holding his hand.

"Are you sure? We didn't really get a chance to rehearse, and..."

Before he could finish, the previous act hurried off the other side of the stage, and the drama teacher stepped out onto with her microphone. "Wasn't that great? All right, next up, we have... Savannah and Mr. Bell!"

The entrance was the one part they had practiced, since the drama club had insisted on it. They'd wanted to see more, to know if they needed to worry about spotlights, or sound, or anything, and Mr. Bell had been curious, too, of course, but Savannah told them all the same thing: "Just follow my lead."

"Hello," she said, awkwardly waving. "I have a little act prepared... I think you'll all like it. Can you hold this for a second?" She passed the microphone to Mr. Bell, who looked confused, though he seemed far more comfortable there, on stage, in front of everyone, than she did. If she had to say anything about him, she had to admit he had natural charisma... Maybe that was why people were drawn to him. That, or the fact that he was pretty hot, especially for a teacher.

Savannah unhooked her necklace, lifting the heavy pendant out from beneath her shirt, taking the mic back. "You may want to sit down," she warned him.

"You should have told me to bring out a chair," he winked.

"No," she shrugged. "The floor is good enough."

He hesitated for a moment, then gamely followed her instructions, sitting on the stage. "Hypnosis, huh?" he chuckled. "I don't think..."

"Hush," she ordered, snapping her fingers. He immediately fell silent, even though she'd barely begun to swing the pendant. "Sleep... I want you to put your conscious mind to rest. Put it to bed... Imagine lying down, sinking into your soft, warm bed..." He was even more susceptible than she had dared hope, giving her very little fear to move on to the next stage already, despite the risk. "But it isn't a bed, is it? It's a crib, and your Mommy is raising the bars, and trapping you inside. You can't get out, can you? You can only watch, from behind the bars, as your younger self takes control of your body..."

She saw him frown, twitch slightly. "What's your name?" she asked.

"Twavis," he answered, his voice higher, without a trace of any indication he was faking, or putting on an act.

"Good boy," she patted him on the head. "Uh-oh, Travis! What are you wearing?" He looked down at himself, pouting, and, behind his eyes, she could see him struggling to figure out the answer. "What aren't you wearing that you should be?" she helped.

"Diapew!" he exclaimed proudly, pleased with himself for figuring it out. 

"I think there's one over there," she pointed to the side of the stage, where her friend was waiting. "Can you go get it for me?" He nodded, seemingly not even thinking to stand up, crawling over to get the offered diaper and baby powder and returning. Savannah could feel all the eyes in the auditorium on her, wondering how far she was going to take this, the drama teacher glaring at her from the other side of the stage, wordlessly hissing threats.

"Why don't you take your shoes off?" she suggested, once he'd clumsily crawled back with his cargo in hand. "They aren't comfy at all, are they? Why don't I help you?" He made an attempt, but untying them first didn't seem to cross his mind. She pulled them off, setting them aside. "How about your socks? Can you get those?" He was quite eager to prove he could. "Look at those cute little toes," she cooed. It would be fun to suck on those, wouldn't it? You can't look away from them, huh? All you can think about, whenever you see them move, is how much you'd like to put them in your mouth..."

She heard a few "Ew"s from the audience, and had no doubt that, inside his head, much the same thing was happening... His body, on the other hand, couldn't resist, and, before she knew it, he'd lifted his foot, popping his toes inside like a baby who didn't know any better. She let him go at it a few moments, then said, "I want you to keep doing that - why would you stop? - but I'm going to lower your crib bars for a second... Your body is still under the control of your younger self, it's only your voice that is back. And you'll only stop doing this when you tell everyone why you asked me to be in the talent show with you. And tell the truth like a good boy!"

She saw the conflict in his expression, as a tiny bit of his adult mind returned, enough to be able to answer, and to be disgusted by what he was up to. She was prepared to wait as long as necessary until he gave in, though that wound up being only a few seconds. He pulled his foot out of his mouth, and immediately began to speak. "I-I thought you were pretty," he blurted out. "I wanted to spend some time with you, alone, while we rehearsed."

Savannah had, of course, expected as much - that was why she'd kept telling him they didn't need to practice, when he proposed they get together after school, in his office, alone - but it still made her skin crawl a little to think about it. He was cute, yes, for a teacher, and relatively young... She was sure there were plenty of other girls who would have felt flattered by the attention, no matter how far things went... She was a senior, so it wasn't as bad, she supposed, though certainly still inappropriate.

"Have you ever done that with anyone else?" she asked. "Any other students?" He nodded, starting to open his mouth, just to shut it again when she quickly interjected, "I'm raising the side of your crib," to shove his adult mind back out of the way, not wanting him to name any names. If the other girls wanted to come forward, they could; she didn't want to out them like this.

"Silly me," Savannah shook her head. "I never did get you into your diaper, did I? I better change that, huh?"

"Diapew!" he squealed, clapping his hands, making it quite obvious he was under again. She didn't bother to ask him to try and help this time, just took over herself from the start, afraid she'd get interrupted if she took too long. She was pretty sure people were too stunned, for a moment, to stop her - she could tell the drama teacher, over in the wings, was, anyway - so she undid his pants, slipping them down, followed by his underwear.

She could hear a laugh coming from the front few rows, the seniors, who were close enough to get a good view, and, while part of her wanted to let that keep going, she didn't want to give the younger students, seated further back, the chance to see anything. She'd babysat enough to be able to get the diaper in place in no time, holding it up as a shield with one hand as she sprinkled the baby powder with the other.

There was still laughter, of course, even more as the audience saw the babyish pattern on the front of the adult diaper she'd found online, realized she was actually going to put that on him. Savannah wondered if he knew better, or if he was so mortified by what was happening that he thought they were still laughing at the sight of his naked crotch. Honestly, that was fine with her, too. Either way, she knew he wouldn't be forgetting this anytime soon.... She hoped he'd remember this next time he tried to lure in another high school girl, if he didn't get fired as soon as he got off-stage, after what he'd admitted.

"You've done so great," she told him, helping him sit up, letting him get a good view of the packed auditorium, all watching him. "There's only one more thing I want you to do for me, okay? I bet your tummy is feeling really full right now, isn't it?" He squirmed, nodded. "It's uncomfortable, huh?"

He put a hand on his tummy, nodded again. "You're a big boy," Savannah said. "I bet you know how to fix that, don't you?" He frowned, looking up at her, confused, a thumb making its way into his mouth. "Come on, I think you do!" she cooed. "You just give a little push, and then all the ickies will go from in here," she poked at his stomach, "to here!" She patted his diaper, lowering the microphone a bit so it would pick up the crinkle. "Can you do that?"

She could see him, in her mind's eye, sitting in a huge crib, hands wrapped around the bars, yelling at her to stop, at himself not to do it, helpless to do either. That made it all the better when, in reality, he bobbed his head, immediately lifting his bottom up slightly from the stage with a grunting sound, and she saw the rear of the diaper begin to expand, the smell hitting her a moment later.

"Such a good boy," she smiled. "Now, I want you to finish doing that. Once you're all done, the bars on your crib are going to lower, but you're only allowed all the way out once you've sat down, and the principal comes to fetch you. I have a feeling she's going to have a lot to talk to you about... Until then, your mind will be back to normal, you just won't be able to move, other than to bounce on your stinky bottom."

It was hard to turn away from the very satisfying view of him, red-faced as he grunted and groaned, diaper slowly ballooning out around him, but she managed it. "Well, that's all I've got," she announced. "Good night, everyone!" She waved, setting the mic down in front of him, filling the auditorium with the shameful noises he was making, ensuring nobody thought he was faking, and walked off the stage, leaving him to finish the show... And, from the audience's reaction, she could tell he was killing it.