Clarissa - Part 6 (Patreon)

Picture property of ABDreams.

"Looks like you didn't get far," Ms. Barlow teased, dragging Clarissa by the hand down the halls of the school. "Was this what you had in mind when you tried to run away from me?"

Of course it wasn't; the star had assumed that, if she went to the Headmistress to try to explain things, the woman would actually help her, rather than punish her more, then turn her over to the person who had, in the past, kidnapped her, and just minutes earlier had diapered her, dressed her up in something other than the uniform she would have needed to avoid a second spanking.

"Hey!" the teacher barked. "Ignoring a grown-up is very rude... Do I need to take you back to the Headmistress already? I assure you, she won't care how short a time it's been... If you go in there out of uniform, she'll be true to her word, and this trip to the Nursery won't be temporary."

Clarissa glared at her, biting back a few choice words, before finally answering, "No, not really, Ms. Barlow."

"I wouldn't have let you go if I thought anything else was going to happen," the woman informed her. "You already lost, from the moment you set foot in this place; signing those papers sealed the deal, but she would never have let you go even if you'd refused. It's going to be quite the feather in this place's cap, getting to show off how thoroughly we can turn a bratty, entitled pop star into a sweet, obedient little girl... Not to mention how much somebody will surely be willing to pay for you once you're properly trained."

"N-Nobody's going to pay for me," Clara shook her head as defiantly as she could manage after having received two spankings that day. "I'm not property!"

"No, obviously not," Ms. Barlow agreed, opening up a door and escorting the girl inside. "But you're not going to be capable of looking after yourself, and people are going to be lining up around the block to be able to do it for you."

Clarissa gasped as she looked around at the place she'd been led, shocked at the size, and scale, of it. It looked, for all the world, like any baby's room - as its name implied - but scaled up for her. There were shelves and shelves of diapers waiting for her, a high chair, crib, changing table, playpen, even a rocking horse.... Anything a toddler could want, or need. Any other time, if a pregnant friend had brought her in here to show off all the work they'd done, preparing for their due date, she would have cooed and awwed quite genuinely, run around and examined every little thing, all the tiny details they'd put in. Except, this wasn't for a child, it was for her.

"I don't think we need this anymore right now," Ms. Barlow declared, whipping off the girl's dress, leaving her standing there in just her diaper and socks. "As long as you're here, you're a baby, and babies don't have to worry about modesty, do they?"

Clarissa felt suddenly incredibly aware of the soft, all-encompassing poof of the diaper around her. Anyone who stayed in this room would obviously need those - and would be using them, considering how many spares were waiting - and there was no doubt that's what she was wearing... Did she belong here? She hadn't chosen to wear it, of course, but she also hadn't been able to stop herself from being put into it... Looking around, it was hard to keep in mind that everything here was bigger than it should be, that this wasn't a normal nursery that she'd been taken to, and would fit into perfectly, as if it had been made for her... Or as if she'd travelled back in time, and truly was nothing more than a baby again.

"Oh, I know," Ms. Barlow told her, stroking her hair, "it can be a bit overwhelming, can't it? I know what will help, sweetie." She led Clara over to the high chair, lifting her up onto the padded seat, snapping the tray into place before Clara could try to hop out.

"Noo!" Clara whined, giving the tray a shake. It didn't budge, but that didn't seem to matter.

"Clara!" the teacher scolded, giving the girl's hands a smack before walking away a moment, returning with thick, fingerless mittens, forcing them onto the pop star, restraining them to the sides of the chair, leaving her truly helpless as she fastened a bib around her neck and setting down a pink, plastic bowl heaped with rather disgusting-looking mush and a baby bottle on to the tray. "Well, I was going to let you feed yourself, but I guess I'm going to have to handle that now. I hope you're hungry, little girl!"