The school sissy

When I woke up and saw myself in the mirror, I nearly cried. I was wearing a uniform, a female uniform, and my hair was done up in curls. By the looks of things, I was in the girls’ bathroom. A young girl came out from behind a stall. She looked young, 12 at most. I could easily take her. When I stood up and barked at her for my clothes she laughed and ran out into the hallway. I ran after her, and to my surprise it was later than I though. The halls were filled with students that all stopped in their tracks when I came out. I stood stunned as kids who were younger than me took out their phones and started taking pictures. Kids started making fun, asking how old I was or whether I was a girl or a boy. When I ran down the hall a couple 4th graders tripped me and started laughing. When a teacher came down the hall and saw me I ran to her with tear in my eyes and tried to explain the situation. Before I could start speaking she interrupted and said sternly,
“Young man, or should I say girl, if you think it’s funny to parade about in girls clothes then maybe you should be put in a class more suitable for someone so immature.” She marched me down the hall, taking her time to let kids snap more photos. When we arrived at the 1st grade I started to protest,
“I can’t go in there! I’m 16 years old. I didn’t do this there was this little girl who—“
	“A little girl?” she inquired, “Are you telling me that you got dressed up and dragged here? Lying is a bad habit young lady, and one that you should refrain from repeating.”
She threw me inside. The young teacher was reading a story to the children on the rug in a circle. When she saw me, she had to stifle a giggle. The woman escorting explained my situation and that from here on I would be in her class. The young teacher laughed and then escorted me to my seat where she picked up the story where she had left off. During snack time I was told that kids who forgot their lunches had to drink apple juice and eat crackers. They were all out of crackers but being starving I downed he jug of juice in a few seconds. The teacher scolded me for drinking the whole thing and I was given a timeout in the corner.
 	When she sat me down facing the wall I started to tear up. I wasn’t a child! She couldn’t do this. I watched the other kids play and laugh during the play time. Out of the corner of my eye through the open door I saw the girl from the bathroom. I instantly got up and started running for the door when the teacher grabbed me by the back of my collar.
“If you can’t stay still for 15 minute, then I guess you aren’t even old enough to handle first grade. Maybe you should go back to kindergarten.” All the kids started laughing at me.
“Whoa, he wears dresses and he’s older than all of us but we’re still bigger than him?”
“Wow what a baby he can’t even handle a time out. Maybe he should be sent back to preschool!” At the thought of being sent even farther back I lost control. My bladder was full from the apple juice and I felt me panties getting warmer.
“EW he’s wetting himself like a baby! Does he not know how to go to the potty?!”
The teacher stared at me with disgust, but a smile quickly grew on her face.
“Oh ho ho! Looks like you’re even less your age than I thought. Unfortunately for you, our school has a strict policy for children who have little accidents. For the rest of the day they must wear diapers to keep the floors clean.” She grabbed me by the hand and pulled me over to the closet. She paged through one of the drawers and pulled out a pair of training pants and some new clothes. She sat me down on a changing mat and started peeling off my pink panties. She hung them on a wire near the windows. After that she threw my clothes off and started powdering me. The training pants slipped on and she started dressing me in the new clothes.
They were a pink long dress meant for a first or second grader, but on me it was little more than a short skirt. She gave me some hello kitty socks and their largest pair of matching shoes. She looked up at the clock.
“11:15… Perfect. Why don’t you walk to the kindergarten down the hall? And remember, NO running.” Not wanting to test her I started slowly marching down the hallway. Suddenly a loud bell rang and all the classes started flooding into the hall. Little kids half my age started calling me a diaper baby. The older kids from before started taking pictures.  I rushed into the kindergarten door and listened as the laughter roared as their accusations were confirmed and I was seen by a middle aged woman. She was far kinder to me, but still did not hear of my story. She simply said to go outside for recess and come back in when it ended.
After heading outside, all the kids formed a circle around me. I tried to run away but they easily overpowered me and laughed.
“What a big baby!”
“I have a little brother who is only 5 and even he isn’t in pullups!”
“Why don’t you go ahead and wet your diapey like the baby you are!”
I started to cry. The children started to laugh once more. I was about to admit defeat when the bell rang once more. I went into line with the kindergartners and head back inside.
	When we arrived at the classroom the teacher kindly introduced me as a girl who had trouble going to the bathroom by myself. When I explained that I was only in pullups because of an isolated incident, she responded with “Well if you can stay dry for the rest of the day you won’t be put in diapers.” The children all snickered at that.
	All of a sudden the door opened and 7th graders flooded in. The teacher explained that they would be eating lunch with us today. One of them was the girl from before. She instantly came over to me and volunteered to be the one to help me with my lunch. The teacher said that she had no food for me, but the girl instantly presented a second lunchbox, this one with Elmo on the front.
	She sat down next to me and started to pull out jars of mushy carrots and cumquats. It was baby food but I was starving so I grabbed a spoon and started to eat. When the teacher wasn’t looking, however, the girl smeared a jar of mushy spinach all over the table and me; she then proceeded to spill my drink all over the table.
“Teacher my little buddy spilled her food all over herself!” She tattled.
“She’s lying,” I cried, “She spilled the food on me on purpose.” The teacher glared at me and gave the girl a bib and a bottle. Once the bib was attached and my new bottle filled I was spoonfed by the girl. She started saying things like, “Here comes the train!” or “Can you try to drink all of your ba-ba?”
By the end of it my stomach was churning we sat down for story time and after only 10 minutes I shot up my hand.
“I really gotta go to the toilet.” I nearly spurted into my pants as I said it.
“What’s the magic word?” she asked condescendingly.
“PLEASE!?” I nearly screamed. I could feel a few drips coming through on both ends. The teacher agreed and let my big buddy take me. She walked me slowly down the hall, and kept stopping to  pull up my dress and check if I had gone. When we finally arrived I ran to a stall and tried to jump inside, but the girl stopped me. She forced me on the ground. I tried fighting back but she explained that the food I ate was laced with muscle relaxants. She reached into her bag and pulled out 3 enormous diapers and a pair of plastic pants. She diapered me up and tossed the clean trainer in the bin.
“You have three minutes before class gets out. Unless you want to walk through the halls in a large SOILED diaper, you better run. I got up and started to put all my energy into running. The muscle relaxants made me run slower than a little girl, but I had to keep trying. I was merely yards from the door when the bell rung and I froze in place. All the kids started to come out and immediately flocked to me. I tried to open the door but it was locked. I stood clutching my front, but it did me no good; the padding was too thick. With my back turned to the kids my bowls let loose. A huge buldge formed around my butt. The kids started crying with laughter. I turned around to hide the brown formation, but at the same time my bladder let go again. The front of my diaper stained yellow and the three layers became fully soaked. The first teacher saw me in the crowd of students.
	“You must love attention to be wetting AND messing yourself like an infant. Good thing we have an afterschool overnight daycare program that we can enroll you in here.” She dragged me to the nursery, and let one of the aides change me. I cried again as I realized what was happening. It was becoming all too clear. I was doomed to be treated like an infant and humiliated for the rest of my life.