Miss Helena's Ballet Academy for Immature Mothers - Chapter Two (Patreon)

Stella prayed for time to fly as she stood in the corner, facing away from what the kids were being taught. 

It was bad enough she had to pee so badly, but Miss Helena humiliating her in front of that brat of her stepdaughter was too much. She could see it already. Ellie would return to her father and tell him that her mean step mommy had embarrassed her in her ballet lessons. 

There was nothing she could do about it. Not even her sex could make Sven pick her over Ellie. 

“Okay, girls. It’s time to stretch.” 

She heard Miss Helena say. 

The girls went loud as they obeyed her. Stella couldn’t see them, but it didn’t matter. She was close to peeing herself, and the class coming to an end was like music to her ears. But her bladder couldn’t wait any longer, and there was no way she was about to lose the battle in front of her stepdaughter and her ballet friends. 

She moved, taking her sight from the corner where she had been for almost ten minutes. 

“What you think you doing?” Asked Miss Helena. 

“This was all fun and whatnot, but I need to go,” said Stella. 

“I have not dismissed you.”

“And I don’t care. Expel Ellie or whatever you want, but I need to use the bathroom, and you won’t stop me.”

“Is that so?” 

“Stop it, Stella. You are embarrassing me. I’ll tell Daddy,” said Ellie, grabbing Stella’s hand. 

And her friends chuckled. 

“Let go of me. You little piece of shit.”

As soon as she said those words, she regretted it. Ellie let go of her, but that was the least of her problems. As far as Miss Helena was concerned, she had reached her boiling point. What an arrogant and spoiled little girl, pretending she had any power over her own life. She was everything Helena disliked, and even though they were almost the same age, there was no doubt about who was the most mature of them. 

Stella felt a stronger force grabbing her wrist. It wasn’t her stepdaughter anymore. It was the ballet instructor, who was almost a head taller than her. 

“I think you will only learn your lesson if I force you to learn.” 

Stella was dragged to the one chair in the room as Miss Helena sat, forcing her into her lap. 

“You will count. Ten will be enough; if you don’t count, I won’t stop.” 

Everyone was silent. Everyone but Stella. 

“Let go of me. You can’t do this!” 

Miss Helena lowered Stella’s pants, leaving the young woman in just her underwear for everyone to see. 

“No, stop it!” 

SMACK. 

It stung like dozens of needles against her perfectly round butt. 

SMACK.

“Please, let go!” 

“You have to count. I won’t stop until you do.” 

SMACK. 

“No, please. Please. Stop.”

“You know what you have to do.” 

SMACK.

“One.”

All eyes were on the teacher instructor and the young woman being spanked. 

SMACK.

“Two.” 

SMACK.

“Three.” 

SMACK.

“Four.” 

SMACK.

Stella was now a sobbing mess. 

“F-Five.”

SMACK.

Her butt cheeks were a bright crimson red.

SMACK.

“Si-Six.” 

SMACK

“Se-Seven.” 

The little girls were quiet, except Ellie, who was chuckling at the scene. Her horrendous stepmother was being humiliated, and even if her eight-year-old brain couldn’t understand it all, she knew she was enjoying the payback. 

SMACK.

“Eig…”

But, sadly for Stella, that last smack broke her defenses. Her bladder, which had been full for the last thirty minutes or more, opened, and everything inside was let out. It was a small tinkle at first, but it soon became a strong flow. 

“What the…” said Miss Helena, standing up immediately to put distance between her and the young woman, “Did you just pee yourself?” 

Stella was in shock and couldn’t answer, but she knew what she had done, and her eyes were almost as damp as her crotch.

All the little girls were laughing now, making Stella cry even harder.  

…

Candace couldn’t believe she was trapped with her worst nightmare made flesh and some random woman with serious anger issues. At least the blonde bimbo didn’t piss herself in the room. But, it’s been a long time already. Maybe she needed to go number two. Little girls were sometimes like that. She knew that. She’s dealt with many little girls before. 

Or, maybe she didn’t make it and was now on her way to her husband to explain her potty accident. 

She chuckled, wishing she had been able to see that play out.  

“The door,” said Marissa.

Everyone turned to the door. 

It was the rough-looking assistant.

“Miss Helena apologizes. But she’ll need a couple of minutes more. A little girl had an accident.”

“Accident? Is my daughter okay?” The there mothers asked in unison. 

Greta smiled.

“Not that kind of accident.” 

There was a short silence. 

“Hey, what happened with the blonde girl?” Asked Marissa. 

Greta let out a soft laugh and closed the door again. 

…

Stella stood outside the room where minutes before she had just had the most humiliating experience of her life. Her pants were still down around her ankles, making walking hard. Her panties were still wet against her skin, though the warm sensation had now turned into a cold shame. Her eyes were still damp from all the tears produced by the ravaging spanking and the blatant humiliation she had just received. 

“Alright girls. Classes are over. Remember, work hard. Think smart. Be better.” 

“Yes, Miss Helena,” said the girls in unison. 

Then the door opened, and all the girls went out, including Ellie, who was still smiling ear to ear at the sight of her humiliated stepmother. 

“Miss Helena called Daddy. He’s sending someone to pick me.”

“What?”

“He’s not happy with you.”

“What did you say to him?” She said between sobs.

But Ellie just smiled and left with the rest of the girls. Although three remained in the room. Stella figured they were the daughters of the three older women that were trapped with her before in the room that looked more like a nursery than a ballet academy classroom. 

Then, Miss Helena came out. 

She scanned Stella from foot to head. 

“Pathetic.”

Stella sobbed again, “C-Can I go?”

Miss Helena grabbed her wrist again. 

“You’ve given me the perfect idea to deal with immature kids like you.” 

“I-I don’t understand.” 

“Oh, and you don’t have to.” 

She pulled her close, grabbed her butt, and lifted her like she was just another little girl in her care. 

“But first, let’s get you clean.” 

Helena carried her around the halls and passages of the ballet academy until they found themselves in her office, where the rough-looking assistant awaited. She was fitted there, holding a large package of something thick and white alongside other things. 

“How did you manage to get all of it so quick?” 

“I have my means, Miss,” said Greta. 

Stella couldn’t understand what was happening but knew it couldn’t be good for her. She could try to flee, but she might not make it that far in her state. She could call the police, but she had no phone. She could only hope that her tormentor would let her leave eventually. That her husband, Sven, would still allow her back home after the words she spoke against her stepdaughter. 

“Alright, little girl,” said Helena, placing Stella carefully over her desk, “This will have to do.” 

“What are you doing?” 

But Helena didn’t answer. She undressed the young blonde until there was nothing between her sex and Helena’s hands. The stink of her own pee was still strong around her hairless vulva. 

“You can’t. I’ll tell the police. I don’t care if you apnea me again.”

But once again, there was no answer. 

“Stop it right this second.” 

A cold sensation around her crotch sent shivers throughout her body and then she realized what was happening.

“No, you can’t,” she pleaded with tears in her eyes again, “Please. Don’t.” 

But it was too late. The assistant and the teacher forced her down as Helena lifted her butt to place the thick white diaper underneath her. Baby powder was applied carefully, making the entire room smell like it. Then, Stella was trapped in her new fluffy prison. 

“Why?”

“Immature little girls like you need to learn a lesson,” said Helena, helping her sit, “But don’t worry. You won’t be the only one in diapers. No. Let’s go meet your new classmates.” 

“Miss Helena,” said Greta, “I think we are forgetting her clothes.” 

“Oh, true,” said Helena, smiling, “We can’t have you walk around in just a diaper, can we?” 

Stella was in shock, and his fighting spirit was broken. She just let the ballet instructor lead her around the room as she removed her shirt and bra, exposing Stella’s fit body and perky breasts. 

“Let’s get you in your new uniform,” said Helena with her thick accent. 

Both women helped Stella get into some sort of pink clothes. She didn’t see what it was. She didn’t care because there was nothing she could do about it. Though, Helena wanted to know and forced the young woman in front of a mirror. 

There, staring back at her, wasn’t the confident and empowered young woman she had seen that morning when getting ready for the day. In her place was someone else, a small little girl wearing what was definitely a pink onesie and a tutu that barely covered the thickness of her diaper. 

“Wait, something’s missing,” said Helena, placing something in Stella’s mouth, “What say you, Greta?” 

“Good. She’s a cutie.” 

…

The three mothers sat in silence in the waiting room. 

It had been ten minutes since Greta had told them that Miss Helena was dealing with someone’s potty accident, and Marissa was now sure she was referring to the blonde bimbo from before. What a shameful thing to do in front of her stepdaughter. Maybe the teacher was cleaning, and that’s why she is taking so long. Is not as if ballet was profitable enough to have a full-time janitor. 

Then they heard the doorknob move again. The three turned in anticipation. 

The door opened. But what came inside was not something Marissa had expected. It was the Russian woman and the rough-looking German, yes. And there was also Stella, who was dressed in what could only be described as a bad Halloween costume designed to humiliate someone. Gone was the sexy bimbo she had seen just thirty minutes before. In her place was a sobbing girl dressed in a ballet outfit that would’ve made any four-year-old jealous. She was sucking on a pacifier, holding Miss Helena’s hand like a little girl would with their mother. 

“What the fuck?!” Exclaimed Brett. 

“Is this a joke?” Asked Candace. 

“What did you do to her?” Asked Marissa. 

The door closed again.

“I was planning on having a little chat with you four. But after poor little Stella peed herself, she gave me a better idea.” 

“Idea?” Asked Marissa. 

“How far are you willing to go for your daughters?” 

“What?” The three asked in unison. 

“Very talented little girls. The three of them. I can turn them into the perfect Prima Ballerinas. You know that already. But that won’t happen unless you do as I say.” 

“That’s enough. I’ve had enough of these clowns. I’m out,” said Candace, standing and walking to the door, “I will look for legal actions.” 

“Will you know?” 

But the door was once again locked from the outside. 

“Let us go,” she said.

“We’ll fucking sue you,” said Brett. 

And that was it. Greta, rough and menacing, grabbed the smaller of the mothers by the wrist and began administrating the treatment that little Stella had suffered just minutes before. Smack after smack against Brett’s butt cheeks, which became red and sore in seconds. The older of the mothers could do nothing but cry as she tried to free herself from the grasp of Miss Helena’s assistant. 

Marissa and Candace were shocked. 

And when Greta was over, she left the sobbing mess that was now Brett crying on the floor. 

“Who comes next?” She asked.

“I don’t think that will be necessary,” said Miss Helena, leading Stella onto one of the chairs, “Right, girls?”

The two remaining mothers shook their heads. 

“Let me tell you what will happen,” she said, walking towards Marissa and Candace, “You will do as I say. No complaining. Or same treatment for you. Understood?” 

Marissa wanted to complain. She wanted to do something. But she was no match for either Helena or her assistant. They were rougher and stronger, and their presence was dark as dark came. No. She needed to flee. She needed the police, her husband, someone, anyone. She would play alone. They were nuts. They were dangerous. 

“So?” Asked Miss Helena. 

They nodded.

“Good,” she said, smiling devilishly, “Greta, why don’t you help me get our new students into their brand-new uniforms.”

“Uniforms?” Asked Candace.