Unhappy Ballet Practice: Chapter 3 for Sissy
After enduring the pain in my wrists from waving the pen around for seven agonizing hours, I couldn't help but cry as I started to write, "I'm a diaper-wetting pervert with a pansy bladder who shows no regard for the beautiful art of ballet. I would like to humbly apologize to the world of dance for being a nappy-needing loser who is desecrating this dance hall with my absurd pee-soaked underwear. Please have mercy on me, oh plea-"
I finished one line. 1,999 more to go.
I squirmed uncomfortably in my tiny child-sized chair, which only added to my misery as it was furnished with rubber spikes that dug into me even through my diaper. With a pitiful cry, I began writing my next line, "I'm a diaper-wetting pervert with a pansy bladder who shows no respect for the art of ballet. I would like to humbly apologize to the medium of dance for being a nappy-needing loser who's tainting this dance hall with my idiotic pee-drenched underwear. Oh please..."
"SIS-SIS-SIS-SIS!" a booming voice called out.
I jolted in fear and started penning over my previous sentence, dooming both lines to be rewritten. Steeling myself, I hobbled over to Miss Heseltine.
"That despicable diaper of yours is full to the brim. You'll change out of it instantly," Miss Heseltine commanded.
"Y-yes, Miss Heseltine. Squeak squeak!" I replied, turning around to head to the changing rooms.
"SMACK!" The sound echoed in the room as Miss Heseltine's cane struck my trembling legs.
"I said IMMEDIATELY, you silly sissy! Like you, sissies don't need privacy. Remember, you begged to be a shameful exhibitionist, didn't you? Now strip!"
My face flushed as I gingerly slipped out of my sweat-soaked, torn apart, soiled costume, rolled down my drenched tights, then removed my completely wet diaper. I placed my hands in front of my crotch, prompting Miss Heseltine to cane me again and order me to stick them on my head.
"Get back into your outfit," she said with a smirk. "We'll judge how long you can last without a diaper."
"Y-yes, Miss Heseltine. Squeak squeak!" My tiny, vulnerable genitalia exposed, I cautiously dressed as a delicate pink mouse, with "Loser" written on its forehead.
Just as I was done, a knock on the door caught everyone off guard.
"Open the door!" Miss Heseltine demanded. Instruction followed, allowing the entrance of twenty breathtaking ballerinas in their mid-twenties. They stood there, gawking at me in shock.
"Oh my God!"
"What the actual fuck?"
"Ew, can you see how wet its costume is?"
"I think they're trying to make a statement!"
"Why does it need 'Loser' scrawled across its sissy face? That's a loud and clear already!"
"Oh my gosh, I HAVE to take a photo for my boyfriend. He'll laugh so hard."
"That's the most pathetic thing I've ever seen."
"Is that a used diaper on the floor? You don't think..."
"Wow, are you actually messing with us? Seriously, why don't they need a diaper? Is it a fashion statement they're making?"
Everyone burst into hysterics.
"This is my best class, sissy," Miss Heseltine snarled. "You've disrupted their lesson for far too long."
"I'm sorry, Miss Heseltine. Squeak squeak!" I howled in embarrassment, begging for mercy, but instead earning more laughter.
"What kind of apology is that, you ridiculous sissy?" she mocked. "The sissy must apologize to each girl one by one. Girls, if you feel the urge to kick the sissy's balls for what it's done, please don't hesitate!"
A chorus of excited whispers and grins ripped through the room. I gritted my teeth and approached the nearest girl, a beautiful redhead. "Sissy mouse is very much sorry for disturbing your lesson, redhead," I stammered, my face crimson red. "Squeak squeak."
"Awww, that's okay, loser!" she teased. "Everyone makes mistakes. For example, every single choice you've made so far!"
Everyone roared with laughter, utterly humiliating me.
"Seriously, do you think you could be any more disgusting?" she inquired. "Now spread your sissy legs and beg for forgiveness."
I whimpered and followed her instructions. I yelped as she kicked me forcefully in my small sissy balls. With tears in my eyes, I muttered, "Thank you so much! Squeak squeak!"
My time with each girl was excruciating, spending half an hour humiliating myself and suffering from frequent kicks to my nether regions. One girl appeared to enjoy the exercise, continuing to kick me repeatedly, only stopping because another girl was eager for her turn. By the time I'd apologized to all the girls, I was in immense sissy agony, hobbling towards the last one. She felt sorry for me and patted my head, smiling as she readjusted my mouse ears. Even though she did not intend to harm me further, I received another dozen strong kicks for my pleasure.
"Sissy, return to your corner and work on your lines," directed Miss Heseltine.
"Yes, Miss Heseltine! Squeak squeak!" I was anticipating the 2000 harsh lines after this torment.
"Hang on a second," said the attractive redhead. "Doesn't the loser need a fresh diaper?"
Harsh laughter bounced from the walls. Multiple girls made the symbol for 'L' with their thumbs and fingers, addressing me.
"The sissy mouse believes it doesn't need pitiful baby undergarments," said Miss Heseltine. "Isn't that correct little..."
Miss Heseltine's eyes widened in shock. The audience was in disbelief until they noticed my situation. I'd lost control of my bladder the moment the girl said 'diaper.' I couldn't stop myself from soiling my outfit in front of everyone.
"Holy smokes!"
"What a pathetic display!"
"Holy shit, what a disgusting little freak."
"Why do I even care about this? A child can do this better than you."
"How DARE you!" bellowed Miss Heseltine, gripping my ear and dragging me over her knee. I squealed and squeaked as she raised my leotard, exposing my butt, and commenced spanking me hard with her hand. The pain was indescribable; her hand was as evil as any whip. Soon all I could hear was the loud smacks, laughter of the ballerinas, and the sound of camera shutters clicking. I howled and kicked my legs in vain as the painful spanking continued. Eventually, it ceased. I was sobbing uncontrollably as she dragged me to the floor and forced me to put on a new diaper on me, while still wearing my leotard.
"You are far too pathetic to wear a diaper under your clothes," Miss Heseltine stated. "Wearing one over is more fitting for you."
The girls displayed perplexed faces, causing Miss Heseltine to explain, "This loser has shown no maturity or control. She's not worthy of the privilege of keeping a diaper concealed. Write your lines NOW!"
I curtsied, thanked her, squeak-squeaked, and pranced off to pansy corner to write my lines.
'I am a diaper-wetting pervert with a weak bladder that lacks respect for ballet. I am truly sorry for this innapropriate display of a sissy mouse's inferior control over her bodily functions. Please forgive the embarrassment I have caused the realm of dance. Squeak squeak squeak!'
One more sickening task. Again. And I was already dreading this demeaning task. An unnecessary assignment that would benefit nobody. Perfect for my pitiful sissy persona. I glanced at the graceful ballerinas performing their routines; they showcased poise and dignity that I had abandoned forever. Several smiled and waved, while others held their noses and mocked me. They chortled at the weak sissy loser enduring their ridicule. Squeak squeak squeak!
