Our Sponsors (Valedictorian) (Patreon)

It didn't look much like an ad. It looked like footage of some college's graduation ceremony, albeit very professionally filmed and edited. The camera swept across a spacious auditorium in which a large crowd of seated women in neatly-ironed caps and gowns sat and applauded. On the sides of the room were large bleachers, filled with the parents and guests of the graduates.  A gray-haired woman with glasses and a friendly smile stood at the podium, in front of the seated faculty. Tina guessed that she was the president of the university, judging by the elaborate red and gold sash she wore over her black robe. The sound cut in just as she seemed to be wrapping up her commencement address.

“...and I want to be the first to say: Congratulations Graduates!” The statement was followed by the traditional lengthy round of clapping, hooting, and hollering. She stood smiling gently throughout, patiently waiting for the enthusiasm to die down to manageable levels before she continued.“And now, to deliver your valedictory address, please allow me to turn the podium over your class valedictorian: Marsha Lee!”

A young woman stood from the front row and approached the podium. She was shorter than most of her classmates and had her coarse black hair roughly stuffed into a ponytail under her cap. She adjusted her gown and tassel nervously before she reached the podium. Her arrival was met with clapping and cheers as custom demanded, but Tina noted that the enthusiasm merely seemed appropriate to the solemn occasion, rather than ridiculously over the top as it would normally be. Tina suspected that Marsha was not all that well-liked among her classmates.

Tina narrowed her eyes and looked from face to face. She felt that she had gotten fairly good at spotting the Sponsors' soulless proxies and brainwashed slaves, but this scene looked fairly clear of both. There were some very beautiful young women ready to graduate, and most of them seemed quite happy, but nowhere were the perfect, beaming smiles and glamour-shot features that marked the Sponsors' puppets. The most idealized faces among the crowd had clearly paid visits to various beauty salons in preparation for the occasion. Something else was going on here. Marsha cleared her throat and adjusted the microphone. Some snickering was audible in the corners of the room as she peered down at her sheet of notes.

“Thank you, Madam President. Wow. Look at all of us here! Even after all the hard work we all did to reach this point, I can still hardly believe how far we've all come. The time we've all waited for for so long is finally coming! We're finally at the point where we actually get to leave the protective nest of academia behind and head out into the real world! Soon, we will become the engineers, scientists, business leaders, journalists, professors,writers, and artists of an exciting new world! Come on, give yourselves one more round of applause!”

The crowd acquiesced, and for a long moment, no other noise was audible. Then, silence slowly descended again, and Marsha resumed.

“Only, the thing is...there's something really important that I haven't shared with all of you yet. Something that you really have to understand in order to put what is happening here today in the proper context.”

A round of muttered conversation broke out. The faculty looked at one another nervously behind the smiling valedictorian. That last part hadn't been in the script.

“I feel I have to tell you...the academic journey that brought me here today has been pretty rough. I've never been the prettiest or the most confident girl here. I admit, I've always been a bit of a bookworm...never the kind of girl to go the big sorority parties, or hang out with all the 'cool kids'. Now, don't get me wrong. Certainly, some of you were very kind to me. Some of you...well, took pity on me. You were nice, but that's it, you know? Most of you barely noticed I existed, but a few of you, well, why sugar-coat it? You did your best to make me miserable. And frankly, the rest of you stood by and did little or nothing about it. None of you really cared enough to...to stand up for me.”

The muttering grew more intense. Marsha was still smiling, but the mood in the room around her had definitely shifted.

“I assume that most of you have noticed the changes that have taken hold in our world recently. I know, finals week can be quite a beast, but even I didn't spend the whole time stuck in the library. You've seen the weird things that have been shown on television, the rash of strange ads on the internet, on billboards, on the radio. You might even have friends and family that have been behaving strangely, purchasing weird new products with all sorts of seemingly magical properties. It's been pretty darn weird for most of you, I'd say. You've probably also noticed how none of those things seemed to have really affected you. Somehow, the whole world has been steadily transforming, and yet you have pulled through without any ill effect. Why is that, do you suppose? Just the usual good luck? Maybe you're just a bit more clever than your fellow human beings? Maybe you have the sheer determination and strength of will to resist what others find irresistible? Well? Any guesses?”

The crowd was looking very agitated now. Something was definitely wrong, and everyone could sense it.

“No. The reason you've all been spared, is...because of me. You see, the Sponsors approached me very soon after they began their invasion of our world. They aren't from here, as you probably guessed. They want to move in and take the human race under their wing, as it were. They can mesmerize and hijack and control pretty much any human they want, but for a....” She adopted a mockery of a squint and waggled her hand back and forth, as though uncertain of how to phrase something. “...select, elite, special few, they're willing to be a little more diplomatic. They asked me if I wanted to serve as their instrument in our world, a sort of liaison or conduit that they can use to tighten their grip here. A meeting of the minds took place, and we eventually reached a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

There were cries of confusion and indignation audible from all around the room, but Marsha had the microphone, and the loud speakers could not be drowned out. No one rose from their seats, although Tina noticed that a few were trying.

“Some of you have probably noticed that the seats you're sitting in are a little, shall we say, on the sticky side? Don't worry. I'll let you all stand once you've understood the situation a bit better. You see, what with not having any real friends here and feeling...well a bit left out and rejected by all of you, I guess the Sponsors' guessed that I...wasn't feeling all that well-disposed to the human race? I gotta say, they're pretty perceptive. To be frank, you're all a bunch of selfish, dull-witted jerks! You've ruined this planet with your shallow, self-important, thoughtless choices. I'm actually glad someone finally stepped in and recognized that the human species is just not fit to govern itself. The Sponsors have held up a mirror to us, and shown us all what self-indulgent, infantile fools we really are. Give yourselves another round of applause!”

The clapping resumed. The looks of fear and the shouts of distress continued, but everyone was clapping their hands for all they were worth.

“Feels funny, doesn't it? Being told to do something, and then just doing it, whether you want to or not? Well, you'd all better get used to that. That's how things are going to be from now on. You see, as of the start of this speech, the Sponsors have generously granted me, Marsha Lee, this humble university, and everyone within its grounds, as my personal domain! So, I'm going to be in control of each and every one of you from now on! For example, Anita Palmerston, why don't you come on up to the stage!”

A tall woman with very smooth, blonde hair stood up from the front row very suddenly, as though the seat had been electrified under her. Her eyes were wide with panic as she her feet carried her toward the podium with unsteady, jerky movements.

“Anita, I seriously wonder if you will even remember doing it, but...you plagiarized your portion of our group project for Early Modern History. As a result, I got a B- on that project, despite it being completely clear and obvious who had cheated. I can't say why my suggestion that you simply be given the grade you actually earned was shot down. Maybe the fact that your uncle is in the state senate had something to do with it? Oh well. A B- meant nothing at all to you, but I had to work a lot of sleepless nights to make up for it and keep my GPA. As you said at the time, life isn't fair, get over it. I always remembered that. That smug, arrogant assumption that you were the hero of your own story, and that I was just some side character who ought to be happy to suffer for your success. Shall we find out how unfair life can be, 'Nita?

Anita said something, but she didn't have a microphone, so all Tina could hear was a faint murmuring. She visibly struggled to move, but her feet seemed unable to leave their spot on the stage. Marsha gave every impression of simply holding her in place by the power of her will alone.

“No, no, there's no point begging for mercy. I've already had the pleasure of seeing how you act when you have the upper hand, so don't go crying to mercy or fairness now. I've been waiting for this a long time, and I'm going to enjoy it. Let's address a few imbalances, shall we? Anita, you've been using your good looks to get ahead for quite some time. I think it's well past time I got in on that game. First, I'm stealing your height.”

The crowd shouted in disbelief as Marsha's head slowly rose behind the podium. The first few inches might have been explained by her shifting her posture or standing on her toes, but then it kept going. The proportions of her features shifted subtly, making her new height look utterly natural. Meanwhile, Anita sobbed visibly as her body was squashed down, until she was even shorter than Marsha had been. Within seconds, Marsha stood before the crowd as a statuesque figure, while the diminished Anita shook her small fists in impotent rage.

“And...you know, I've never been able to get my hair to do what I like. Oh well! Your problem now, I suppose.”

The two women transformed again. Marsha looked like a gentle drizzle of invisible water were washing over her, instantly melting her hair into silky perfection. The jingle from an old conditioner ad popped into Tina's head as she watched Marsha toss her beautiful new hair. Soon, it hung about her shoulders in smooth, shiny tresses, as though she had just left the beautician. Meanwhile, Anita shook her hands above her head, helpless to stop the invisible fingers that seemed to be mercilessly pulling her hairstyle to pieces. Her head quickly bloomed into a dandelion of unkempt frizz.

“Much better.” said Marsha, running her fingers carelessly through her luscious new locks. It fell back into place almost perfectly. Anita just crossed her arms and looked away, still shaking with terror and rage. “Looking pretty shabby for such an important occasion, aren't we? Shame, shame. Laugh at the dumb bed-head, everyone!”

The trapped audience erupted in shrieks of laughter. The rows of graduates held their sides, slapped their knees, and pointed unsteady fingers at the quivering figure of Anita. Tina only occasionally spotted the looks of fear in their eyes as they struggled to breathe. Finally, Marsha drew a sharp horizontal line in the air with her hand, and the forced laughter finally died, all at once.

“Yes, I think it's about time to introduce Anita here to her new position in life. Can you believe she thought she would be interning in her dad's company next spring? No, no, no. I'm afraid the fates have a something just a teensy-weensy-bit different in store for you! But hey, since you like kissing up to the powerful so much, I have a great idea for how you can spend the rest of your life!”

Anita's looked over at Marsha, confusion evident in her frightened eyes. Marsha favored her with an extremely smug smile. She bent forward and began patting her knees through her robe. “Come on, Annie! Come on! Come to Mistress! Come here, Annie! Come to Mistress!” She spoke in the syrupy tones of one calling to a puppy.

Anita fell forward onto her knees, as though pushed from behind. Tina could see that she was struggling against the unseen forces that held her in their grip. She was being dragged across the stage on hands and knees as Marsha called for her in a saccharine, teasing voice. When she reached Marsha's feet, the now-taller woman bent forward and patted her frizzy hair condescendingly. “Ah, good girl! Who's Mistwess' good girl! Huh? Who's bein' a good girl for her Mistwess?”

She held the microphone under Anita's chin. She was struggling hard, but she could not stop her mouth from speaking. “...I...am....a....a....ah! I am a good girl for my...my Mistresssss!”

The final word was delivered through a sob of misery. Marsha continued to pat the struggling woman's head as she cooed more phony affection. “Yesh you are! Yeeesh you are! Who's my stoopid widdle girl! Huh? Whosa stoopid girl?”

“I'm...I'm your stuuuupiiid girl!” said Anita's mouth, despite the best efforts of the rest of her. Tina's fists tightened.

“Yessss! Yes you are! Yesh you are! I guess that means you won't be graduating, huh? I guess you don't need this stupid ol' robe, do you? Silly widdle Annie! Stupid girls like you don't get degwees, do they? Noooo!””

Marsha grabbed Anita's robe forcefully at the back and yanked it clean it off with a loud ripping sound, like a mad scientist unveiling an exciting new kind of death ray. A bright flash and a plume of white smoke obscured Anita's prone form for a moment. The smoke slowly cleared, revealing a pink and white jester's outfit. Anita's new hat ended in two long cones of loose fabric tipped with bells. Her shoes curled at the ends. Her tank top and tiny skirt were likewise decorated with frills, tassels, bright buttons, and more bells, so that it would be impossible for her to move without jangling noisily. The skin left exposed by this skimpy outfit was delicately painted to match the colors of the clothing. Anita looked at herself in horror. The black robe and cap had vanished, completing the magician's trick.

“Yes, she does look awfully ridiculous, doesn't she folks? Much more appropriate for a siwwy widdle dumb-dumb, huh? See Anita? This is going to be your whole life now. You are my toy, my plaything. You're going to exist entirely and exclusively to amuse me! Let's see now...what shall I make you do first?”

Anita was shaking her head violently, as though desperate to escape from this nightmare. Marsha tapped her chin theatrically.

“A spanking?” suggested Marsha mildly. In response, Anita was yanked off the floor and suspended in midair above the stage. She shrieked in fear and flailed her arms and legs, but the magical force effortlessly flipped her over and left her rear pointing toward Marsha. Her skirt pulled itself upward to expose her naked cheeks. Try though she might, her flailing could not restrict access to her behind even slightly. Marsha sidled up to her with slow, methodical steps and began gently patting her rump as she struggled to protect it. After teasing the suspended woman for a few seconds, she turned away, as though she had simply lost interest.

“Always fun, but perhaps a little obvious. A dance, perhaps?” Marsha leaned against the podium, taking in the view. Anita's curly-toed feet were allowed to rest on the ground, and she immediately launched into an extremely silly, capering dance. She spun on her toes like a ballet dancer, moonwalked, and turned cartwheels with jerky, awkward movements.  It was clear from the terrified expression on her face that she had no control of herself. Marsha began to giggle and clap sarcastically, and the women in the audience found their own hands joining in involuntarily.

“Enough.” said Marsha.  Anita suddenly collapsed to the stage like a puppet whose puppeteer has suddenly remembered a pressing appointment. Tina winced at the sound of the impact. “How about a nice little walk around campus? I think my little pet needs some fresh air!”

Marsha gestured toward Anita, and a long stretch of golden chain materialized from her hand. It shot toward Anita and tightened around her throat, forming a golden dog collar. It read “Marsha's Pet” in glittering diamond lettering. Marsha pulled, and Anita was again yanked toward her across the stage, settling in a miserable heap at her feet.

“Oh, I'm going to have so much fun dragging you around campus on your hands and knees!Maybe we can go over to the quad, and I'll teach you to fetch a frisbee and bring it back in your mouth! Hmmm, but I suppose I'm a little busy right this minute. Tell you what, I'll let you give me a little kiss, Annie. Then I'll let you have a break. C'mon, give Mistress kisses!”

Anita's lips were painted half white and half pink. She puckered up like a duck at Marsha's words. Marsha leaned down, getting her face closer and closer to Anita's. Then, she abruptly turned around and pointed her rear at Anita's face. “Gimme kisses! Oooh, good girl! Lots of nice little keister kisses! You're gonna be kissing your Mistress every day from now on!” Anita pressed her lips against the black robe concealing Marsha's butt again and again, leaving little lipstick impressions all over it. Tina felt her teeth grind together. “You'll kiss my butt every single night before bedtime, and first thing in the morning every single day! And as often as I want in between! That is all you deserve, and that is what you get! Who's my widdle ass kisser Annie?”

She pointed the microphone at Anita, who was busily doing Marsha's bidding with a look of exhausted disgust on her face. “I am...your little...ass kisser, Mistress.” The protest in her voice was weaker now. She sounded utterly defeated as she returned to planting yet more kisses on Marsha's rear.

Marsha turned and gave her head a proprietary pat. “Much better. Go sit on your little seat for now, dumb-dumb. I'll be playing with you some more soon enough.”

A pink and white cushion popped into existence in front of the podium. Anita quickly crawled over and sat on it, sitting very, very still, hugging herself. Tina wasn't certain this time whether the movement had been forced or voluntary. Anita trembled visibly on her cushion.

“Now, let's turn our attention to rest of you! Anita here might have earned a special place in my heart, but don't think the rest of you will escape judgment. As you probably guessed, you aren't actually graduating today. In fact, I've decided that what all of you really need is many, many more years at this fine institute of higher education. Of course, it will be a little different around here, now that I'm the one in control. You won't be learning theater or science or journalism. You'll be learning your new place in my little world. First, let's get you all arranged properly.”

One by one, the seated graduates were lifted into the air, chairs and all. It began slowly, but soon the air was filled with women in caps and gowns being whipped screaming this way and that. Tina watched in confusion as the bizarre maelstrom shifted into a rainbow of bright colors. Purples, reds, blues, yellows, oranges, and greens replaced the serious black of each graduation outfit. Soon, the seats and their occupants had resettled into neat rows and columns. The seats had been arranged into color-coded sections. Purple on the left, running across the rainbow to red on the far right.

“Much better! I spent a lot of time making sure that each of you would have the color you deserve. I've arranged you in order of how much trouble you've caused me over the last few years. That will be the basis of the new society I shall create out our little student body! I'll be doling out your new existence in my domain according to your deeds, whether good or bad. Now, it would be nice to have a caste consisting of my good friends, but for some reason, I don't seem to have any of those, so we'll just have to make do.”

From the ceiling above, dozens of spotlights sprang to life, illuminating the first few rows, where the purple-robed graduates sat. They looked nervously at one another.

“Purples, you are the students who were....actually nice to me! Each of you said at least one kind thing to me, or allowed me to sit with you at lunch once, or helped me out on a group project. Granted, none of you actually spoke up for me or protected me from all the teasing, but you did at least acknowledge that I was a human being, with actual feelings and all. So, generous soul that I am, I'll repay you for your kind words. I've decided that you will be the new leisure class of our little campus! You are going to live lives of relaxation and ease in my new kingdom! Are ready to get started? Just kidding, it doesn't matter! Come oooon...relax.”

Tina watched the neat rows of graduates sag slightly, as the irresistible command swept over them. The other colors remained extremely tense, wondering what Marsha had in store for them.

“Relax. Relax more. Let yourself really sink into your chair. Feels good, doesn't it. All that tension just falling off of you? Relax a little more. See how easy that is? More.”

Most of the purple-clad graduates looked half-asleep by this point. Most were looking blankly forward with half-lidded eyes. Many had collapsed against each other. The other graduates sat uneasily in their colorful robes, watching.

“Feel that relaxation just pour itself all over you. It's like laying under a warm, heavy blanket. Feels so nice to just let all the tension dissipate. Feels so good not have any worries. You don't need to think about what will happen next. You don't need to think about grades, or jobs, or tests, or interviews. Just lay back and let my voice soothe you. It's been a while since you really relaxed like this hasn't it? You've been so hard at work for so many years, studying and writing papers and working on projects. You deserve to just take a load off.”

Everyone could sense the edge in Marsha's voice. Tina certainly could, and she guessed that the rows of women in their purple robes could to, even if they only sensed it through the haze of relaxation that Marsha was forcing on them.

“You deserve to have the chance to just let go and be a little...lazy...for once. To let the world deal with it's own troubles for a change. You deserve that.”

Tina crossed her arms as she watched.

“That's right. You deserve to really let yourselves go. Really just unwind, you know? Really feel that thick, warm laziness pour into you. Oooops. Maybe that was a little too much? Oh dear...what if you've relaxed too much, and now you can't stop? Oh no! What if you're just stuck being lazy from now on? What if you're just trapped in a comfortable, sleepy stupor for life?

Tina rolled her eyes. After watching so many commercials with similar themes over the last few days, she wasn't impressed by Marsha's subtlety. If she hadn't known better, she might have concluded that Marsha was nothing more than a particularly well-disguised puppet.

“Yep, I think that's definitely what it is. You're getting lazier and lazier by the second! Pretty soon, you'll be completely unable to take care of yourselves, much less handle all of the responsibilities of being grown-ups! All that grit and determination you used to use to pursue your goals is going bye-bye. No more being tough, no more working hard, no more studying, no more...adulting! Why, you'll basically live like big babies from now on!

The purple robes disappeared with a plume of smoke, leaving the first three rows wearing purple tee-shirts and disposable white diapers. The shirts and diapers both varied from person to person, with each woman being marked with their own animal theme. Tina noted a cartoon frog, a pig, and a sheep in the front row, and each had a matching stuffed animal sitting beside their chair. Some wore knee socks with mary-janes, others wore sneakers, crocks, or in some unfortunate cases, bunny slippers. Pacifiers hung around their necks, or sometimes dangled on a strap attached to their shirt. Despite the variations, each graduate still wore her square graduation cap, albeit a purple version with pigtails sprouting from either side. The shouts of surprise and indignation they made as they pulled ineffectually at their new attire barely reached Tina's ears.

“Yes, you're all going back into diapers, I'm afraid. Now, I know you might have some silly reservations about 'graduating' right back into pampers, but I'm sure you'll see that it's for the best if you think about it. Think of how stress-free your lives will be from now on! You can just lean back and enjoy yourselves. You don't ever have to lift a finger. You can just enjoy being big babies! Oh, I know, you're worried that it'll be embarrassing, having to be kept in diapers round the clock at your age.  Well, yes, it will be embarrassing. I mean, how is anyone supposed to take you seriously if you're so lazy, you can't even use the potty like a big girl? Well, I'm afraid that'll be your punishment for your half-assed good intentions! No matter how long I keep you in diapers, you'll always be keenly aware of how ridiculous you look in them. Your parents will be embarrassed too! Imagine going through all the trouble and expense of getting a daughter through college, only for her to come back as a big baby, waddling around in soggy diapers! So embarrassing! Even knowing that it was all done by my power won't change a thing. It won't stop the deep shame they feel as they watch you become more and more of a big, lazy, helpless baby every day.”

Tina could barely make out the crowds that were sitting on the bleachers. She wondered how it would feel to watch a daughter, sister, or friend be humiliated in this way, and be helpless to do anything about it. And to force them to feel ashamed when they should be the most proud...

“Oh yes. The transformation has only just started. You'll find that a lot of babyish habits and interests are going to be sliding into place over the next few weeks. Grown-up activities take way too much work for someone so lazy. Shows made for adults will feel boring and scary. Clothes made for adults will seem drab and uncomfortable. Before you know it, you'll find yourself sitting around in a colorful set of footie pajamas, watching silly cartoons meant for toddlers, and sucking on your binkies. And when you feel a little tickle in your bladder, I doubt you'll be feeling energetic enough to get up and deal with it like a big girl. Your bladder control will be wandering off, slowly but surely, over the next few weeks. Say hello to bedwetting and plenty of daily whoopsies! Well, the good news is, you're going to be falling head over heels in love with your new special underwear! You'll probably be way too embarrassed to admit it, but you'll feel so safe and comfortable and loved as you helplessly widdle in them over and over! Your lives will be an endless parade of naptimes, playtimes, high chairs, baths, and diaper changes. I'm sure you'll be embarrassed to admit to your parents and all your friends that you're back to being a stupid diaper filler, but you'll get over it! Let's have a big round of applause for our new diaper girls!”

It was strange to watch so much clapping accompanied by such frightened faces. The Purples clapped as well, despite their dazed expressions. Tina noticed many of them grow distracted by the thick padding around their rears. The other colors were obviously wondering what horrors were in store for them if this was Marsha's idea of being generous.

“And yes, your diapers are there for more than just your cute widdle tinkles, but I think it'll be more fun to let you take your time on that end! I'm sure you'll be in the mood to “experiment” with dirty, stinky diapers before too long! Won't be your problem, of course. Dealing with your own diapers would just be way too much work for lazy bums like you. That job...goes to the Blues!”

The spotlights shifted over, this time to a much larger group of women. “You are the ones who mostly just ignored me. Honestly, I was considering moving you over a few rows, just because I found you so insufferable. But this is better. You see, what really irked me about you schmoes, was the pity. You thought it was so sad how lonely, how unpopular, how awkward I was. You would look sad for a second whenever I walked into class. Don't think I didn't notice. Not that your so-called compassion ever motivated you to actually help or anything. It was just there to make me feel even worse! Well, I thought of a great way you can finally put that pity of yours to good use.”

More white smoke plumed upward as the crowd under the glaring lights transformed again. Blue gowns magically re-tailored themselves into blue dresses and white aprons as the unfortunate women wearing them struggled to leave their seats. White gloves grew across their hands and white pearls encircled their necks, making them look like old-fashioned housewives. Tina immediately thought of Miko, although she didn't want to. As before, the graduation caps remained in place. With tiny puffs of smoke, each blue graduate received a blue diaper bag to sit beside her chair.

“You want to make someone actually feel better? Well, I've decide that my precious purples are going to be your problem from now on! Just look at those adorable, helpless sweeties in their big puffy diapers! Aren't they just the cutest? Don't you just want to pinch their little cheeks? Well, I decree that you will spend the rest of your lives catering to their every need! You'll feed them, read them bedtime stories, give them lots of hugs and tummy rubs, clean up after them, coo over them and tell them how wonderful and lovely they are! You'll absolutely adore them and worship the ground they waddle on! Most of all though, you'll be changing them. You'll just love wiping and powdering their helpless little rumps! You'll love every second of being on diaper duty for these spoiled little brats, and when you've changed one, you'll be jonesing for another fix right away! A big round of applause for the nannies!”

Tina noted that many of the new blue-clad nannies were glancing with looks of maternal concern toward the purples as their gloved hands were forced to clap. The compelled applause ended just as abruptly as before, and the lights turned to the band of seats occupied by the Greens, the largest group yet.

“You gals just straight-up ignored me. Not a look, not a word, just pretended I didn't exist. That hurt, I admit, but only a little, and I'm not a monster. I've decide to give you an important job. In the new order of things, you'll be my messengers of merriment! My harbingers of joy! I've noticed that there hasn't been too much enthusiasm out there for my decrees, and that changes now! Take it away, my faithful cheerleaders!”

More smoke, and once again, the ranks of green robes were left transformed. Their hands bloomed into white pom-poms. Their gowns had been reduced to pleated green skirts. Their hair was tied into pigtails with green bows. Across their busts, many of which seemed to have expanded to more generous proportions, were printed the words “Marsha's Girls” in white block letters. The women looked down in dismay at the undignified costumes.

“Now, now ladies! Noooo Debbie Downers allowed in the Greens! C'mon, let's see your school spirit out there! Let's turn those frowns upside-down!”  Marsha stabbed and twisted her index finger in the air.

The looks of horror and bewilderment on the faces of the Greens were turned into beaming smiles that Tina found chillingly familiar. Only the terrified eyes served to show that the women were now prisoners in their own bodies. They looked happy if you squinted, but Tina knew the feeling of being forced to smile against your will. The throng of cheerleaders all leapt from their seats in unison, as though each seat concealed a tiny catapult.

In a sequence that would have taken months to adequately plan and train for in any sort of sane universe, the ranks of graduates began an elaborate series of acrobatics. They neatly stacked up their chairs in a choreographed sequence that was both mesmerizing and ruthlessly efficient, then turned and began cartwheeling around in unison, deftly prancing in and among and between each other in a series of complex, interlocking wheels of twirling bodies. They began sliding between each other's legs and forming human pyramids, all while chanting and clapping in unison.

M is for our Mistress!

Before her we all cower!

A is for Almighty!

'Cuz she's got all the power!

R is for Regal!

The Queen who rules the rest!

S is for Superior!

'Cuz Marsha is the best!

H is for Happy!

It's how she makes us feel!

A is for Amazing!

Can she even be for real?

Marsha! Marsha!

We're your little sluts!

You own our bouncing tits!

You own our waving butts!

Go Marsha! Go!

Go Marsha!

Goooooo Marsha!”

The non-routine ended with the crowd forming a single pyramid and caterwauling together with an enthusiasm that Tina knew none of them actually felt.

Marsha slow clapped as they finished. “Oh, very very good! Your Mistress is pleased. Better get practicing, because your next performance will be...ooh, I guess it'll be whenever your Mistress commands it! And I won't be handling the choreography by magic next time, so you better work hard if you want to please your Mistress! And trust me,. You do want to please me. My bad side is...well, pretty darn bad! Speaking of which...ooooh, Yellows?”

The spotlight shifted again. The banana-colored band of graduates were only a little less numerous than the Greens, but there were still hundreds of them.

“Here we have the group who really made my college experience a nightmare! Oh, you're not the worst offenders here, but you're the ones who did the bulk of the work of making me miserable. A little whispered comment here, a book placed hurriedly on a chair there, a few rumors, a few mean nicknames. Just a few little pinpricks every day, to make sure that I never felt at home here.  For your crimes against the royal personage, I sentence you to an eternity of menial, demeaning labor! You can go ahead and forget about all those silly ideas you had about becoming teachers and play-writes and whatnot! From now on, you will be doing all the cooking, cleaning, dusting, laundry, sweeping, and general tidying up in my realm. Let's hear it for our maids!”

By the time Marsha had finished speaking, the gowns had already finished their transformation. Seated in front of her were over a hundred women dressed in identical yellow-and-white maid outfits. The sheer quantity of ruffled lace on display was something to behold. Little yellow trays appeared beside them, containing spray bottles, rubber gloves, paper towels, and other necessary accouterments of their new shared profession. The Yellows blushed and hung their heads (still covered by yellow caps) as they received their involuntary round of applause.

“The most important thing you need to think about from now on...is obedience. Not just obeying me, but obeying everyone around you! From now on, you'll know from the bottom of your soul that everyone knows better than you! When someone, anyone, tells you to do something, you'll do it, immediately! You'll be quiet, demure, tidy, submissive little servant girls! The second someone, anyone at all, gives you an order, you will just bow your dainty little heads and accept it without question! Can I get a 'Yes, Mistress'?”

“Yes, Mistress.” chanted the new maids, in unison and without inflection.

“That's what I like to hear! Have fun with all those chores! Ooh, let's do a fun one! Oranges!

The spotlights shifted as before. Tina did notice a difference in the faces among the Oranges. If what Marsha had said about her time in this school had any validity, than they were getting into the part of the student body that had genuinely mistreated her. The faces did seem harder and the eyes more stern, but Tina suspected that her own face was pretty similar after all she had seen. Whatever moral high ground Marsha might have once been able to claim, it was well gone now. Lots of people have miserable college experiences, but nothing justified this.

“Well, you knew I'd get to you all eventually! Now don't look at me like that! You all know what you did. You tormented me back when you had no reason to. You'll be wishing soon that you were even worse back when you had the chance. I'm not going to do anything high-minded or esoteric with you bunch of jerks! Ladies, you are just going to be straight-up punished!”

Smoke rose. The orange gowns tightened around their wearers like anacondas, melting into orange prison jumpsuits. Each was stamped with an inmate number across the right shoulder.

“Yes...punished. Can you feel it? That guilty feeling? Of knowing that you have done wrong and that the only relief is to be disciplined? Well, get used to it, because that will be your whole life from now on. That urge to be taken down a peg by someone with authority over you will become stronger, and stronger, and stronger, until you just can't contain it any more! You'll try just spanking your own butts, or giving each other wedgies, or taking turns locking each other in the lockers, but it won't do much more than dull the craving. What you need is to be disciplined, to really feel that someone with full power over you is helping to teach you a lesson. You might plead for an early bedtime, or a few minutes in the corner, or hand someone a hairbrush and turn around, just to get that sweet relief for a few minutes. The more you respect and admire someone, the greater the chance that you'll find yourself running up to them and begging them to put you back in your place! You'll gladly accept punishment from anyone, though. You won't resist any of it, and you'll be thankful and hope they do it again! You know in your hearts that you deserve it! No matter what anyone decides to do to you, you'll just accept it and thank them ever so sweetly for taking the time to help you learn! A round of applause for our inmates!”

Applause was just as enthusiastic as ever. As their hands were helplessly slapped together, the transformed women glanced over at the eight classmates who were still wearing their original robes, or at least a bright red version of it. Each of them were shyly looking away. They did not envy their former classmates their new lives of servitude and humiliation, but they knew that Marsha had saved the worse for last.

“Now we come to the main event! You, my most cherished tormentors! Beth and Wendy, who used to make pig noises whenever they passed me during lunch. Jennifer and Kathy, who threw my biology book onto the library roof. Allie, Britta, and Hailey, who introduced me to the wet willy and the swirly all on the same day, and of course Natalie, who conceived of the brilliant nickname, Marsh-pants! What a fun collection of jolly pranksters!”

Marsha slowly clapped, and with each clap, another of the remaining gowns disappeared. In their place, each of the eight women found themselves wearing a garish red belly-dancer's outfit. Some had gauzy pink veils over their faces, some had sparkling jewels and dangling gold chains to decorate their busts. Some had their hair drawn into long, tight ponytails, others into buns. Dangling gold earrings and shining gold bracelets materialized, along with dozens of other items of jewelry. All now wore loose satin leggings that ballooned around their legs and showed much more than they covered. Tina thought of Princess Jasmine as soon as she saw the outfits. The transformed women looked at one another in bafflement. They had clearly been expecting something much worse.

“Oh? Are you a little confused by your new duds? Not quite what you were expecting? No, I suppose not! Now, here's the costume you really need to see!”

With one motion, she tore the cheap fabric of her black robe and whipped it aside. Her physique was not particularly impressive, but no one was looking at her flab. Her graduation cap was now made of glittering gold, with the tassel ending in a ruby, but no one was looking at that either. Every eye in the room was locked on the biggest pair of cloth diapers any of them had ever seen. It was so large it almost reached her knees. A safety pin as long as a steak-knife held the fluffy cotton material together at the front, decorated with the face of a bright yellow cartoon ducky. It seemed impossible that the robe could have adequately concealed something so huge and ridiculous. The scent of baby powder wafted through the auditorium.

“You know, you'd think I'd be embarrassed to be standing in front of so many people in this stupid-looking thing, but really, it feels great! What do I care if you see me in my diapers? You're all basically just my toys  now anyway! I don't have to look good for you losers! It's not like I'm the one who's gonna be stuck with the job of changing this stupid thing! That's right, ladies! This...”

She turned the massive bulge of her diapered rear toward the group of women in bedlah outfits “...is going to be your job from now on! Oh, I'll keep you all nice and busy feeding me and fetching my drinks and bathing me and massaging me and seeing to all my personal needs, but really, can I even mention all that in the same breath as your real duties? Here's a sample of what life is going to be like from now on.”

Marsha rubbed her own belly, her fingers tracing tiny sparks across her skin. Tina could hear the rumbling of her stomach through the microphone. Marsha pressed the microphone into her bulging diapered rear and strained. The sound system perfectly captured and projected the entire run of squelching and farting that followed. It was a long, noisy affair. The audience began to hold their noses as the smell struck them one by one.

“Oh yeah! Oh gawd, it feels so good! And...here's some more! Ohohoh yes! There can always, always be more now! Here in my realm, I can make as many dirty diapers as I want! I can spend the whole damn day just pooping and pooping away if I wish! No holding your noses! Breath in your Mistress' stink!”

The hands that had held noses fell, and the Tina could only just hear the gagging of disgusted women being forced to breath in the terrible smell. She was glad she could only see and hear the awful scene.

Marsha pointed behind her, and a large electric fan sprouted from the stage with a flash. Moans of dismay sounded from all over the room. Marsha kept pushing, and the unbelievably thick padding of her diapers continued to swell outward, leaving the limits of human defecation far behind. The diaper grew and grew as the awful noises continued, until it hung behind her like a white, cottony bean-bag chair.

“Yep, that's right! Breathe it all in! From now on, I'll be the one who stinks, and you'll be the ones who suffer for it! C'mon, really try to absorb the stench of my dirty diapers! I want your clothes to reek of them, even when I'm not around! Mmm, you hate it so much, don't you? But you can't stop smelling it! I just love the look on all your faces as you drink in my diaper smell! Oh, and it's a lot more than just a bad smell. The more you smell it, the more addicted you are to it! You'll always hate the smell, but that won't stop you from coming back again and again for another wiff! Go on, do your best to resist! My stink is becoming part of you now. I'm imprinting myself onto you! Every breath you take is making you more and more my pathetic little diaper-sniffing slaves!”

Tina was certain of it now. Marsha was not some creation of the Sponsors. She was too unpleasant and nakedly cruel for that. Tina guessed that her story about selling out humanity for her own power and vengeance against everyone who had teased or slighted her was true. She wasn't some alien invader, but a product of the human world's many injustices. A powder-keg of arrogance and obsessive hatred, finally given an outlet.

“And even better, every single sniff is going to make you just a tiiiny bit more submissive to me. You can hate me all you want, but smelling my dirty diapers day after day will cement my power and control over each and every one of you. You'll think of me, and how helpless you are to fight against me in any way, every time you smell this heady odor! You'll know, deep down, that you were always meant to be here, serving me and doing my bidding. Come on, bitches! I think I'll start with three dirty diaper changes, just to start me off! I don't know how many of these babies I'll be going through a day. Depends on my mood! I'm sure I'll get bored and cut down to only a couple dozen, but today, let's just keep em coming! Are you wishing for some rubber gloves like the Blues get yet?”

The eight women in the red harem girl outfits began to saunter toward Marsha with undulating hips and waving bellies, looks of horrified dismay on their faces. As Marsha laid herself down on the stage, her gigantic mess squished noisily under her. Around her, the stage grew a thick rug decorated with cartoon elephants and camels, and a box of wipes and a bottle of talcum powder materialized nearby, both far too big to be real. Two stacks of diapers piled up nearby, large and thick enough to be mistaken for a stack of blankets. The podium sank down into the floor to make room for the over-sized changing table that the stage had become. Anita sat on her cushion in her silly outfit, probably hoping that her new Mistress forgot about her, at least until after her diaper change.

“Coo over me! Tell me how adorable I am! Wipe and powder my butt! Layer my diapers on, just so you can watch me make more smelly messes! Chaaange me!”

Just as the giant pin was undone and the women began passing out the enormous wipes among themselves, Tina punched the screen. Marsha's snicking face shattered into pieces and fell tinkling to the floor. The cracks spread through the screen in front of her. Tina gasped with pain, but also with satisfaction. That had felt incredible, and no amount of pain in her swollen knuckles could change that.

There was a space behind the screen. A dark new area had just opened up. And from that dark space came a gentle, calm, professional, and very familiar voice.

                “Ah, Tina. We've Been Waiting For You. Come On In.”