The Little Kindergarten
Date Published: March 22, 2022, 4:24am
Written By: THAT_Pink_Blanket
Prompt: Write about a difficult job
Disclaimer: Many of my ABDL stories are more or less humiliation BDSM with an ABDL element–basically the protagonist is forced into a humiliating situation involving wearing and using diapers and/or acting like a toddler for the pleasure of the reader. These types of stories are fairly common in the genre, from what I’ve seen, but I guess I thought I might let you know in case you were looking for something else.
The teacher paused her lesson as the door opened. In the doorway stood a tiny woman about the size of one of her students. “Excuse me, can I help you?” the tall Amazon teacher said as she sized up the professionally dressed Little with her eyes.
“Yes, yes, ma’am, I’m your new student teacher,” Amelia squeaked.
The teacher gently raised her eyebrows and softened her expression, but her words didn’t match her body language. “They sent me a Little?”
Slowly, the professionally dressed woman approached, nodding her head in reply. The teacher held out her hand. “Do you have any proof that you’re supposed to be in my class?” she asked. The small woman handed the teacher a piece of paper, and the teacher scanned it. “Very well, Amelia, take a seat.”
The Little lady sat in one of the empty desks. The kids were currently doing circle time. She watched as the teacher who still hadn’t introduced herself led the kids in an activity and ignored her. Amelia was sure this was one ofthoseAmazon teachers, the kinds who think that Littles belong in daycare or nurseries, not working adult jobs. She let out a sigh as she listened to the teacher finish her lesson.
The bell rang, and the students were ushered off to breakfast by one of the neighboring teachers, and then Amelia was left alone.
“Sorry about that. I had to get the class started and my kids settled. My name’s Vivian, by the way, and who did you say you were again?” the Amazon teacher held out her hand and Amelia shook it.
“Amelia,” Amelia said.
“Well, Amelia, welcome aboard. Do you know what you’ll be teaching?” Vivian asked.
“I thought I’d start with centers and work with them on some basic counting, and then maybe some math and science,”
Vivian nodded her head in agreement. “It sounds like you know what you’re doing. Perhaps I misjudged you?”
Amelia smiled nervously and clutched her folder. As they were talking, the bell rang signaling the end of the lunch break. The students filed back in and took their seats. Vivian led Amelia to the front of the class. Immediately, the students began chattering. “Is that a Little?”
One of the students’ hands shot up. “Yes, Todd?” Vivian asked.
“Ms. Greentree, is that your new daughter? Why is she dressed like a little woman?” Todd asked.
Amelia looked uncomfortable as Vivian let out a hearty laugh. She then pulled Amelia to a stool in front of the whiteboard and set her down. “Ha ha! No, no, she’s not my new baby; she’s my new helper–she’s going to be teaching my class for a little while.”
“I don’t want to learn things from a baby! Daddy says all Littles are just babies!” one of the students shouted.
Vivian shot him a stern glare. “Bobby, now what have I told you about sizeist language in my classroom? That was uncalled for. Now, apologize to Amelia so that the rest of the class knows not to do what you did!”
The student in the back shuffled in his desk a bit before huffing out a half-hearted “sorry.” Vivian continued to glare at him. “Sorry, what?” she asked. Bobby looked uncomfortable for a minute and then added, “Sorry, Ms. Amelia.” Vivian looked at him and gave a satisfied grin. “Very good.”
Vivian then cast a glance at her Little student teacher. “Okay, they’re all yours!”
Amelia’s throat suddenly became dry. She pulled out her lesson plan portfolio and quickly reviewed her notes. She didn’t want to mess this up. While she was sitting silently looking over her binder, the students started to get restless. After about five minutes, Vivian walked up and whispered, “Is everything okay?”
The Little met Vivian’s eyes with a look of worry. “I-I don’t feel prepared?”
Vivian looked at her student teacher and gave a small sigh and then clicked her tongue a few times in disapproval. “Okay? How about I lead you in a lesson and you can take over and teach it when you’re comfortable?” Amelia nodded her head.
“So, we’ll start with basic addition. Can you tell me what three plus three is?” Vivian asked.
“Six,” Amelia responded.
“Good job!” Vivian praised, “now ask Bobby a question.”
Amelia swallowed hard as she fixed her gaze on the squirmy problem student. “Bobby, can you tell me what four plus four is?” she asked.
“Don’t you know?” Bobby replied. The rest of the class burst into laughter. A corner of Vivian’s lips twitched ever so slightly, indicating that she wanted to join in. She then looked at Amelia who had her head down.
“Oh, come on, Amelia, we know you know the answer. We know you just want Bobby to tell us because he’s trying to get us all distracted by telling jokes,” Vivian said.
“It’s eight,” Amelia said quietly. Vivian looked at Amelia perched on the teacher’s stool and almost on the verge of tears and decided to intervene.
“Okay, kids. Momma’s back now. I’m going to put some problems on the whiteboard, and I want you to solve them as a group. Then, I want you to take out your tablets and complete the work I’ve given you. There are some really challenging ones. I want to see what you do.”
As the lesson was well underway, Vivian noticed that Amelia was in tears. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Amelia said.
Vivian walked up to the softly crying Little and put a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay, baby,” she whispered quietly. “It’s okay. We’ll figure out some way to let you teach my class so you can become a teacher someday. How does that sound?”
Amelia quietly nodded her head as she wiped away her tears.
“Good,” Vivian said.
Vivian sat at her desk and pulled out the “signs of maturosis” chart she used when advanced Littles came to her class.
An early sign of maturosis is overconfidence in skills the sufferer has not actually learned.As she read the chart, she placed a checkmark next to the symptoms she felt met the criteria. Amelia was expressing several signs of deterioration common of the disease.
Vivian chewed her lip for a minute or two trying to decide what to do. A report of suspected maturosis could lead to Amelia being kicked out of her program of study and put into a daycare, but not reporting symptoms would be irresponsible, especially if she really was undergoing maturosis and would be in no shape to work with young children after her deterioration was complete.
She’d also caught herself wanting to cosset the young woman because she seemed so vulnerable and helpless. That was another sign, not one mentioned on the chart. Sometimes, Amazons in the presence of vulnerable Littles undergoing maturosis developed an inexplicable need to care for those Littles. She held her chest and felt a little moisture through her shirt. That confirmed it. Her breasts were firm, engorged with milk like she was getting ready to feed a newborn baby. She’d need to find an excuse to pump them and stop thinking aboutbabies.
Vivian cast another glance at Amelia, who was now playing with one of the students. Well, she probably thought she was teaching the children to play, but she looked just like a baby except for that professional-looking suit. It was still easy to imagine her as a living doll, though.If I could just get her into diapers, she would make a fine project for the parenting class I teach at the local high school.Vivian tried to shake the thought from her mind. This was anadult,not a young child, not yet, anyway.
She put her head down and tried to free herself from her overpowering mothering instincts. A tickle came into her stomach and her breasts shuddered. She closed her eyes and opened her mouth a little and panted as a wave of pleasure washed over her.
“Ms. Greentree!” She was pulled back to reality by the voice of one of her students. Her eyes focused on Bobby who had been giving Amelia grief all morning. Amelia was holding a piece of a toy fire truck. Her student had the other half.
“What happened?” Vivian asked as she approached the scene. Amelia looked markedly guilty like she’d just been implicated in a crime.
“She broke it!” Bobby said.
“It…it was an accident!” Amelia said as she tried to defend herself. Vivian tried not to smile at how adorable Amelia looked when she was on the verge of tears.
“Now, baby, it’s okay. Tell Bobby you’re sorry, and I’ll find some more toys for you to play with,” Vivian said reassuringly. It didn’t dawn on her how condescendingly she’d spoken to her student teacher until she saw her glaring at her.
“Something wrong Amelia?” Vivian asked sweetly.
“You mean forhimto play with,” she corrected.
Vivian turned around and put her hand over her mouth. “Oh, sorry! I-I didn’t mean it like that! See, when teachers lead students in play, they usually play with the kids, too. Of course, I meant Bobby, though.” Amelia continued to stare at the teacher for a few seconds before appearing to accept the answer.
The teacher sighed to herself as she walked to the backroom supply closet. That was a close one. Sheneededto get out of baby brain mode before she did something to sabotage Amelia on purpose! Her student was already doing an excellent job of that for her.
As she grabbed a replacement toy truck, her hand brushed a pack of diapers. Every classroom had a set of diapers in case students had accidents. They wouldn’t fit Amelia, though. She’d probably need special Little diapers from the Pre-K classroom. Vivian shook her head again. What was she thinking about? Her student teacher was a fully potty-trained mature Little. Just because she was having trouble teaching didn’t make her a—
“Ouch! Stop that!” Bobby yelled. Vivian immediately whipped around to see Amelia holding Bobby by his ear.
“Amelia! Let him go!” Vivian narrowed her gaze and took several powerful strides back to the play centers. Amelia released Bobby, who then tumbled to the floor. “Ow!”
“What’s the meaning of this?” Vivian demanded in anger. She’d see to it that this disobedient Little was diapered herself if she didn’t like the explanation.
Amelia’s lip quivered slightly before she stammered an explanation. “I-I was enacting discipline; he said something bad about Littles again, so I–”
“So you decided to pull yourself down to his level and bully him?” Vivian asked in a stern tone.
“It-it wasn’t like that! I-I’ve seen Amazon teachers discipline their students like that, so I thought–”
Vivian took Amelia by the arm and dragged her to her desk like a disobedient child. “This school has a no-touch policy, young lady! Teachers do not touch students!”
Amelia wilted into the corner of her desk, like a disobedient student who’d been put into time out. Vivian set up centers and went to talk to her odd student teacher.
“Okay, what’s really going on? What do you have to say for yourself? Do you want me to tell your teachers you were acting like a toddler?” Vivian asked.
Amelia teared up at the accusation. Every Amazon would always mistake her for an immature baby! Just one little slip-up and they’d boldly question her maturity! This was probably going to lead to a bad report to her college, and that would lead to even worse outcomes. Littles without college degrees were much less likely to be hired for professional jobs, and Littles who worked in burger places or shake shops were much more likely to end up failing at life and having to move back home, or if they were really unlucky, they’d cross the wrong Amazon and get adopted.
She took a deep breath, seething inside. Adoptions were rare, or at least that’s what the college she was attending told her. She’d grown up with rumors in her hometown to be very wary of Amazons, but they controlled almost all of the businesses in the country, so if she wanted to work and earn a living, and especially if she wanted to make something of herself, she had to associate with them.
To calm herself, Amelia took another deep breath and exhaled while Vivian continued lecturing her. It was the same spiel. She was being lectured like a toddler like she didn’t know anything important, and the person lecturing her didn’t even pause to take a breath long enough for her to get a word in!
She was deeply frustrated, but she was trying hard to keep it all to herself. “No,” she said finally. Tears ran down her cheeks and her face turned red with anger.
Vivian’s cold piercing gaze didn’t change as she reached into her drawer and pulled out a tissue. “Wipe your face. I’ll talk to you more after you’ve calmed down,” she said in a stage whisper.
The teacher pulled out her chart and made a few more checkmarks. She was almost sure she’d witnessed the beginnings of a tantrum. There was no reason for the girl to react like that to just a simple question. That was too much of an emotional display for a grownup. On a toddler, however, it would’ve fit perfectly.
Vivian looked at the chart, now nearly full of checkmarks. That decided it. Amelia was definitely undergoing maturosis, and she was in no condition to be teaching kids who were probably rapidly becoming mentally more mature than she was.
She paused for a minute. What should she do? Shecouldgive her a grade of “F” for her student teaching experience and send her back to her college, but what if her college was one of those useless diploma mills that would grant her a teaching license anyway? She’d heard stories about how quickly and violently maturosis can progress. One day, there’s a seemingly competent Little with mild emotional problems. The next, there’s a drooling babbling adult toddler, running around the classroom, chewing on random objects, and filling their pants while students look on in horror and disgust.
That’s why many schools in the area had maturity clauses, whereby they could fire a teacher, no questions asked, if they were acting too immature to teach. Of course, this law really only affected Littles undergoing maturosis, not immature Amazons or Tweeners, who usually just needed more experience. It was necessary, though, to keep immature Littles out of the classrooms.
Vivian put her chart away and eyed Amelia, who was still seated by her desk with her lips in a slight pout scribbling something on a piece of paper.
Amelia sat in the plastic child’s seat and leaned against the teacher’s desk. That witch of a lady actually put her in timeout like a baby! Her time at an all Little college gave her more confidence than she usually had, and she was able to spot when she was being treated unjustly for once. Before, she just attributed the Amazons’ gaslighting to her own immaturity. She was going to write a letter to the superintendent citing sizeist treatment.
While she was furiously writing out her letter, Vivian approached. “Okay, look. I’m going to give you another chance to teach my class, but I’ll make up the lesson this time. All you have to do is teach it; does that sound good?”
Amelia stopped writing and looked up at Vivian. “That’s fine,” she said in a low sad tone.
“Good. Be ready after lunch, okay?”
Bobby was nosily listening to his teacher while playing with another Amazon around his age.
“You know, I saw what that Little did to you earlier. My dad says there’s only one way to put Littles in their place,” the boy said.
“Oh yeah?” Bobby asked with a look of intrigue on his face.
“Yeah, and that’s show 'em how immature they really are,” the boy said. With that, he handed Bobby five small tablets.
“What are these?” Bobby asked.
“Put 'em in the student teacher’s food or drink; they dissolve instantly,” the boy said.
“What are these? They aren’t poison, are they?” Bobby asked. Sure, he wanted to get revenge on the student-teacher, but he didn’t want to kill her.
“They’re from the Pre-K classroom; they help with potty training by making 'em have to pee more so they start to notice when they’re wet. They have a much more interesting effect on Littles, though.”
“What is it?” Bobby asked.
“Try it and see. That student teacher’ll show us what a baby she really is!”
Bobby took the pills and put them in his pocket discreetly. He wasn’t even sure he’d get the opportunity to slip them to the student teacher, but it was worth a try. If he could get her to have an accident in front of the class, it was all over. They’d never believe her side of the story, and he wouldn’t get in trouble. It was worth a try.
Vivian and Amelia led the students to lunch. Amelia wasn’t very hungry after all of the stress she experienced in the classroom, but she was still going to have her afternoon coffee to help her stay energized. Slowly, she sipped from her cup while she and Vivian kept an eye on the class.
“Ms. Greentree!” one of the students yelled. “I can’t get this open!”
The teacher turned to her Little student teacher. “Would you help Billy get that ketchup packet open?” Amelia nodded, got up from her seat, and walked to the other side of the long picnic-style table. Expertly, she took the packet out of Billy’s hand and ripped through the top of the ketchup packet.
“Thanks,” Billy said.
Amelia nodded her head in acceptance and walked back to her place by the kindergarten teacher. When she sat down, she noticed Bobby was sitting beside Vivian and the two were laughing. The two were joking about something. She huffed in disapproval as she took her seat. That kid had given her so much grief in the little time she’d known him.
“Oh, Amelia, I need to take a bathroom break. Could you watch the class while I’m gone?” Amelia kind of looked lost. “All you need to do is walk around the table a few times and make sure they’re eating their lunch and not pranking each other.”
With that piece of information delivered, Vivian got up and walked out of the cafeteria, leaving Amelia alone with the class. No sooner had the teacher left had someone spilled a drink on the table. Amelia ran to get napkins to clean it up before it got onto the other students’ trays.
While she was cleaning up the spill, she noticed a few kids get up and walk to her place at the table. She was so anxious to get the spill taken care of that the incident didn’t really register when she returned to her seat.
Amelia took one quick look at the kids to make sure they were all sitting down before taking a sip of her coffee. She immediately noticed that it tastedoff,kind of chalky with a bit of an artificial sweetener aftertaste. The idea that it could have been tampered with didn’t cross her mind, though. Instead, she attributed the bad taste to the cafeteria coffee itself. She thought about maybe bringing her own from home in the future to keep from having to put up with the odd flavor.
Once she’d finished the cup, she moved her tongue around to get rid of the chalky taste that was coating her mouth. As she was dealing with the aftertaste of the coffee and debating whether or not to finish her lunch, Vivian returned from the bathroom.
“It’s time to have the students put up their trays and return to the classroom. I’ll take care of this, and you can take a potty break if you need one?” the teacher asked.
Amelia frowned slightly. “Are you reminding me to take a bathroom break? I’m an adult you know. I don’t need reminding.” Amelia was annoyed at how sizeist Vivian was being.
“I-I wasn’t insinuating that you–I just meant that you should–” the teacher let out a sigh, “you know what? Forget it. Sorry I mentioned it.” Amelia let out a small huff of satisfaction. The teacher was finally learning to treat her like an adult and not a child. Maybe she was going to have success on this internship after all?
The two adults helped the children clear and clean the table, and then they all returned to the classroom.
Vivian put on soft music and had the kids sit down and color for a few minutes to keep them out of trouble while she prepared aneasylesson for Amelia to teach.
It was going to be science or history because they were taught as a combined period, and teachers usually chose one or the other to teach that day because trying to cram two subjects into an hour and a half didn’t make a lot of sense.
She found an easy lesson about the difference between rivers, streams, and lakes and decided to make it easy enough for one of her students to teach. First, she outlined the lesson, marked pause points where her student teacher was supposed to pause and talk about key points, and then explain the lesson and take any questions. Cutting out the actual lesson planning would give Vivian a chance to see how well Amelia interacted with the class. It would also give her a chance to observe her and see if see she expressed any more signs of deteriorating maturity.
Vivian thought about making an excuse to let Mr. Field the Pre-K teacher look after Amelia at first, but she decided against enlisting his help unless she was sure it was needed. It would be hard convincing Amelia to switch her assignment, and now that she was thinking about it, maybe Amelia wasn’t showing all of the signs necessary to be diagnosed with maturosis. Maybe she’d just misjudged her?
She turned her focus back to Amelia who was patiently seated by her desk. She tried to stop herself from mentally dressing her in baby clothes and a diaper. She’d look so cute like that! Vivian briefly found herself imagining Amelia in a short yellow baby dress and a big thick poofy diaper that spread her legs far apart and forced her to waddle and toddle for balance when she tried to walk. All of the kids would be so much more accepting of her and her little mistakes if she was just a baby, after all.
Vivian blinked a few times to clear the image from her mind before focusing on the actual Amelia. She looked like a kid playing dress-up, honestly. She was wearing plain white yoga pants with a black shirt and a blazer, and the pants were so tight that they showed the outline of her butt and underwear.
She remembered from her Little Education courses that tight revealing clothes were one of the ways Littles showed everyone they were physically mature–potty trained, developed breasts, able to reproduce, things like that. It made them all look like maladjusted middle school students, though! If she had any say about the girl’s wardrobe, she would have her in an actual suit, with actual trousers or maybe even a pencil skirt. She was wasting what she had. She looked so adorable,just like a little doll.
Vivian shook herself. She was doing it again, cossetting.Don’t cossett the Littleshe told herself. She pinched the bridge of her nose and rubbed her forehead. Amelia looked up from her place next to her desk.
“Are you okay?” Amelia asked.
Vivian straightened herself and smiled nervously as she was pulled out of her fantasy. “Yes, yes, I’m fine, dear, and I have your lesson plan all ready for you. They’re yours whenever you’re ready.”
Imightthink about that. The idea was kind of punishment for not being good at a job, though, but I guess I need to work on the pacing and plot.