I remember being a teaching assistant once, sure, we played some pranks on the professor but it was honestly all in good fun. This is not in good fun, not for me anyway.
You know that feeling when you meet someone, and you just know right off the bat they are smarter than you? As a professor I will admit its somewhat of a rarity, but still happens. Well, I’ve been teaching developmental psychology for 2 years now and at 28 I am likely the youngest professor on campus. My 22 year old TA Kylie had cruised through the course and quickly applied for the position. To be frank she was a bit of a know it all, the only reason I accepted her application was so that I could keep an eye on her and her research thesis. God forbid she was gunning for my job, but such is life in academia.
The year started uneventfully, Kylie’s research was never something we discussed directly but her tells were quite obvious. The portions of the class dealing with brain chemistry, conditioning, and suggestive cognitive therapies were lesson’s where even she took vigorous notes.
I did take it as a bit odd when she asked if I was willing to help with her thesis after months of secrecy, but I answered honestly, “Whatever it takes”. I can still see her smile from that day, cold, calculative, and one that indicated a victory.
Early morning preparations were usually miserable, so I let Kylie manage that and rolled in 20 minutes before lessons. She usually had things fairly ready to go, and I could relax before lecture. Back to the pranks that were common in academia to break the monotony, I could only laugh as I swigged down a terrible tasting coffee that was waiting for me on my desk, spitting out the little I didn’t swallow.
“Great prank Kylie” I said sarcastically. “You may be smart, but honestly, a prank that no one is here to see… maybe you need to take better notes”
“You know, you’re right” Kylie beamed “Not something I ever thought I’d have to say” she shot back, crossing a line that most students wouldn’t dare.
“Thats completely inappropriate for this setting” I gave her back quickly.
“I agree again, you’re really on a roll, why don’t we change things up then, but only because you insist”
The adrenaline of the conversation and months of tension coming to a head broke for just a moment as I noticed the lesson setup. Regression therapies was written boldly on the board, my desk strewn with various child’s toys, playthings, and young education tools.
“Whaah” I trailed off, unable to enunciate.
“What indeed. Let me break it down for you. Since my first class here your contempt for my intelligence has been endless. So I formed my plan on that very day. I studied your lessons, I improved on them, I applied for the TA position knowing you’d want to see my thesis and research. So predictable. Well, my thesis is done, and here it is.” Kylie finger pointed menacingly at me.
“I created a one of a kind regression therapy via chemical precursors that effect suggestibility and motor control in the human brain. Really the reason your coffee taste so terrible, and also the reason I was elated to hear you say “Whatever it takes”, never have 3 words sounded sweeter regardless of how insincere they were. None of this is possible without permission.” Kylie went on.
Hypnotically I felt my body betray me and lay on the cool stone of the lecture hall as Kylie began assimilating supplies from behind my desk.
“Roll onto the mat”, my body complied as she slid the dress and shirt I was wearing off. She reached for a tall bottle, squeezing the contents roughly. Baby powder exploded thickly onto my crotch.
“Sorry, I am new to this, but that’s what all good research is for, trial and error. Don’t worry, I am sure I’ll get better” She said sweetly as she rubbed the cool powder on my groins.
This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be.
Kylie reached into her bag and pulled out a massive white disposable diaper.
The diaper slid swiftly under my bottom and she got to work attaching the 4 double strength tapes.
“We wouldn’t want the baby to get out of her diaper now, would be. Not willingly anyway” She administered several tender pats to the front of the diaper as baby powder puffed from the waistband.
She backed up, seemingly admiring her work.
She snapped her fingers, tension I could not feel began to released throughout my body. I had some control again. I unsteadily, legs quaking underneath me, made my way to my feet, my thickly diapered rear facing Kylie.
“You were right though, what is a great joke without witnesses. Good thing class starts in 2 minutes. Why don’t you give the class something to work on”
My knees buckled, but I kept my balance. My stomach clenched. I knew what this was. Fighting a losing battle, tears streaming down my face. I heard the click of the lecture doors, signaling that students were entering the hall while something else entirely entered my diaper.
“It’s only until the research is finished and published. Then until I secure your position. My estimates are 2-3 years. Chin up, we are going to have lots of fun together.” Kylie whispered wickedly.
Somehow, I didn’t believe her.
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