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

Hi guys!

Here's the new chapter. Finished it earlier than expected. 

Miss Helena's story is coming to an end soon, but I'm considering making more stories with a group of older women more often. What do you think? There's going to be a couple more chapters, so don't worry. 

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Candace's pride refused to accept the idea of dancing in front of others wearing a ridiculous onesie and a full diaper. And yet, that's the situation she found herself in. Her bare feet trembled with every step, and her heart raced. 

Stella stood up, ready to try her luck. 

"So, you've made up your minds?

"Good," said Miss Helena, grinning with delight. "Starting… now." 

A loud sound filled the room. It was the sound of tap shoes clicking on marble floors. The four women, once proud and powerful, walked toward the center of the room. Each one wearing a massive diaper filled with their own mess. Each one trembling with fear, uncertainty, and embarrassment. Each one fighting against their own urges to either break down in tears or run away. Yet, none of them did.

For ten seconds, twenty, thirty, the music played, and their feet moved according to its rhythm. Candace was the first to fall, tripping over her own feet and landing on her rear, spreading the mess inside her diaper even further around her crotch. Stella followed suit, losing balance and falling into Marissa. Together, they crashed onto the floor, creating a chaotic mess. Marissa tried to stand up again, but her wobbly legs gave in, sending her sprawling onto the ground. Brett managed to remain upright, but she fell down when she noticed the weight of her diaper had won the battle against the tapes. Not even the onesie was able to hold onto it. It broke, and the diaper fell to the ground, revealing all its contents and forcing Brett into humiliating sobs.

Miss Helena chuckled.

Greta chuckled.

The other mothers didn't know how to react. 

"I think that's enough for right now. We might as well get you clean before we try again," said Miss Helena to her rough-looking assistant, "Greta, can you help me get some fresh diapers for our girls?"

Greta nodded, smiling, leaving the auditorium right away. 

For a second, the rough-looking assistant was transported to a scene in her past. Greta was younger and wearing some sexy lingerie. In front of her a woman older than she had been. She was crawling on the floor, wearing nothing but a diaper. It had been her job back then. Paid to humiliate or take control over people, rich and older. And she was good at it. This woman was a heiress to big fortune. But inside the room, she was Greta's baby. The older woman moved around, sucking on a pacifier. If only the world knew she wasn't a powerful, independent woman but a diaper-wearing baby under the surface. But Greta was a professional, and she would never tell on her clients. 

She continued walking down the corridors, knowing she had made the right decision. She had picked the right job for her talents. She would turn those bratty women into proper little ladies. 

Back in the auditorium, Miss Helena was observing the mothers. She wanted to see who would crack under pressure first. Would any of them give up their adulthood? If she was a betting woman, she would bet for Marissa. It was clear to everyone she was not hating the punishment, no matter how much she pretended she did. But, being honest with herself, Miss Helena wanted them all. Something inside her had awoken, and now she couldn't turn it off. 

As Greta returned with the fresh diapers, she could feel the anticipation in the air. 

"All right, ladies," said Miss Helena, looking at them sternly, "We're giving you another chance. Prove to me that you can obey. That you are very good little girls. And you will win your freedom. Disobey, and you won't like what will happen. Well, at least most of you will hate it," she said, looking at Marissa, who blushed at those words. 

"Can I get a fresh diaper now?" asked Candace, still looking proud.

"Me too, pwease," said Brett. 

"Sure," said Miss Helena, and an idea came to her. She could push them further. Make them accept their new reality. But not force them. Not yet. And then asked,"  Let's start with the most pathetic of you. Who do you think that is?" 

No one said anything. 

"If there's no answer. There's no clean diapers for any of you." 

"It's me," said Brett, sobbing. Her naked crotch in full display, messy and wet. Her butt was covered in her own poo and out in the open for everyone to see. She was indeed a delight to behold. 

"That seem's bout right," said Miss Helena. 

"Who should go next? Who is the second most pathetic baby here?" 

Once again, silence. 

"I guess only one baby will get a fresh, new diaper…"

"Me!" said Marissa, blushing and avoiding eye contact with Miss Helena. She didn't hate being in diapers like the others. She didn't mind her own mess. In fact, she actually enjoyed it. But she wanted Miss Helena's touch again. 

"Good. But ask nicely."

Marissa hesitated for a second, "Pwease, can I have my diapy change, Miss Edena?"

Miss Helena felt a rush of excitement in her beautiful sex. She was so wet down there already; she might as well put on a diaper, too. "That's more like it," said Miss Helena, breathing in and out slowly to keep herself calm, "Who will be third?" 

Stella raised her hands.

"Ask for it, little girl," said Miss Helena to the young woman who was closest to her age. 

"Pwese, Miss Edena, can I get changies?" 

Miss Helena nodded. 

"That leaves us with you," said Miss Helena, "I thought you wanted to get clean. Or is it you like it just like Marissa?"

Marissa blushed even redder, but she couldn't deny her own sex was craving the treatment. 

"I'm not a baby. I'll dance for you. That's okay. But I won't degrade myself. I'm not like them," said Candace with determination in her eyes. 

"Aren't you know?" asked Miss Helena, "Suit yourself. But you earned yourself more time in your own mess. If you get a rash, that'll be on you." 

Miss Helena turned to her assistant, "You can get the babies clean, Greta. I'll deal with this one."

"Yes, Miss Helena," said Greta. 

One by one, Greta led the mothers back to the nursery room until it was just Helena and Candace. It was time for the ballet teacher to have her way with the proudest of the mothers. If she can break her, the others wouldn't stand a chance. 

What was her end goal? What did the Russian bitch want? Candace asked herself as she was left alone with Miss Helena. 

"Do you know why I know none of you will tell on me?"

Candace shook her head. 

"Cause you Americans care too much about other people's opinion. You cannot cope with being looked down upon or being disliked. Being ostracized by your society scares you."

Candace smiled, "As soon as I go out. I'll sue the shit out of you."

"I know. The others won't," Miss Helena said, grabbing her phone and taking a picture of the diapered mother, "I'll make it easier for you. I'll upload this. And a video of you dancing in your diaper. And let you go free. You can do whatever you want. Sue me or not. How does that sound?"

Candace's world broke in that moment. 

"You wouldn't," said the elegant and beautiful mother in a state of desperation. 

"You'll neighbors will see it. Your husband will see it. Your daughters. People from your church. And yes, you could say I made you. But everyone will see it. And not everyone will believe you. And you'll have to live with that tormenting you every single day."

And the mother who hadn't cried yet. The one that had endured the most. The one that remained proud during the entire time broke down. Sobbing, she asked, "What do you want me to do?" 

"Accept you're baby now. Say it."

"I'm a baby," said Candace, crying desperately as she did. 

"Now say, Miss Helena, please change me."

No hesitation anymore, Candace said, "Miss Helena, please change me."

"No. No. Something's wrong here. Say it like a baby." 

"Pwease, Miss Edena, changies, pwease." 

Miss Helena smiled. 

"Suck on your thumb."

"What?"

"Do as I say and suck on your thumb." 

Candace hesitated this time, for just a second, but soon her thumb found her mouth, and within a blink, she was sucking on it as if her life depended on the very action. Tears fell down her cheeks, staining her face with mascara while she kept her thumb in her mouth, completely humiliated.

Miss Helena took advantage of the moment to undress her, revealing her perfect body, slightly marred by the diaper and poop smeared across her bottom. The proud, strong Candace now lay helplessly, feeling her shame deepening with every action taken by Miss Helena. 

Miss Helena smiled cruelly, seeing Candace's discomfort. She unbuttoned her blouse, baring her shoulders and cleavage. With one hand, she cupped Candace's face, gently caressing her skin with her thumb. With the other, she reached for Candace's blouse, pulling it upwards and exposing her breasts. Candace squirmed, her embarrassment palpable as she struggled against the restraints holding her in place. Miss Helena smiled at the sight, relishing in the power she held over these once-proud women.

Pulling the diapered mother closer, Miss Helena removed Candace's thumb from her mouth and kissed her, stopping her tears of humiliation. 

"Why?" Asked Candace. 

"It all began as a way to teach you a lesson. Brady American mothers. Annoying. Arrogant," said Miss Helena, "But Marissa woke something in me. And now I want you all. And I will have you all. I always get what I want." 

And Miss Helena kissed Candace again, awakening in the once-proud mother something primal. Not even her poopy diaper could stop her from feeling aroused. 

"If you accept being my baby, I'll make you feel this way every day, all day."

Candace hesitated.

"Or I could let you go. And you won't get it again. That's your choice. But if you decide to stay, you won't be a little girl anymore. You'll be my baby girl. Full-time." 

"I—I don't," Candace paused, but she had a better way to answer. Her thumb found its way back into her mouth, and she sucked on it. But there were no more cries. She was actually smiling. She was giving up her adult life. No more parties. No more entertaining high-society ladies. No more going to church twice a week. No more debating libtards in her free time. 

"Such a cute baby girl. Let's get you clean now." 

Candance said nothing. She just kept sucking, her adulthood drifting away.