The Training of Pixie Pt. 05

t was fascinating to watch Pixie's regression that first evening. I had, rather foolishly given the source of the advice, wondered whether Dame Suzie could possibly be right about Pixie.

I had seen her at a couple of Education Conferences giving papers and chairing sessions. Cat Hoffmann was well-known in the sector. Her performance at Oxford had gained her an outstanding First, and everyone had expected her to go into academia. Her decision to go into teaching had been a surprise, but her rise through the ranks had not been. Her appointment as a head teacher in her early thirties marked her out as one of the future leaders of the profession.

I'd seen "Cat", as she was universally known, chair a session at the annual conference of leaders of education at the Institute of Education in London last summer. The first thing one always noticed, of course, was her height. She disguised it well, always wearing high heels, which took her into five-foot territory, and in smart business suits, with her long hair always tied back and her spectacles, she never looked anything other than the very model of a modern education CEO. To witness this woman stripped of all that and. voluntarily to agree to be diapered, sort of blew my mind.

"Littles" were not something I knew much about, and when Dame Suzie had first mentioned it as part of Pixie's plan, I had been uneasy. Where, I had asked, was the line between it and something which, like all normal people, I abhorred, pedophilia? Dame Suzie had patiently explained it, overcoming my hesitations, but not to the point that I was convinced that Cat Hoffmann would, literally, play ball.

Pixie, as we had decided to call her, thus harking back to her adolescent nickname, had adapted swiftly enough to the more junior uniform style suggested for her, but given her shortages in the height and breast department, that was inevitable. What was not was the development on which I reported to Miss Rose and Dame Suzie.

When I had, deliberately, used the childish word "tinkle" and had the temerity to ask whether the head teacher needed one, it was as though I had flicked a switch. Although she had clearly been shy (who wouldn't have been) to have had me watch her pee, she had assented without demur, as she had to my putting her in a diaper, or nappy as we British say, equipping her with a pacifier, or dummy, and giving her a stuffed toy to cuddle. She had been quite happy for me to tuck her into bed, and she had slept like the child she had regressed to being.

Dame Suzie had simply texted:

"Next time, don't doubt me. But ... ."

I was intrigued.

Miss Rose simply accepted my report, which, along with the one Pixie herself had compiled earlier, will, along with this reflection, go into fine-tuning the next stage of the programme. What did Dame Suzie mean by her caveat?

I was still pondering when I woke at seven o'clock. Breakfast would be at eight, and the first sessions of the day would start at nine-thirty. I showered and dressed. To my surprise, as I came out of the shower, Pixie was sitting on the edge of the bed. She was sucking her pacifier and clutching her stuffed toy - clearly agitated.

"Good morning little one," I beamed, "what's up?"

"Please Miss Penny, I need pee-pee!"

"Have you been a good girl and kept your diaper dry?"

"Yes Miss," she said, her voiced going a register higher as her anxiety mounted, "but I need to pee - now."

I had thought of making her pee herself, but decided to reward her instead.

I undiapered her and watched as, with a huge sigh of relief, she peed. I dried her off.

"How was that?"

Then I realised what Dame Suzie had been trying to hint at.

"Good, I slept well, but I am glad you did not make me pee myself, I'll need a different energy for the day."

To hear her formulate such an articulate account of her mental state still dressed as a little girl shook me.

I let her shower, pondering quite what was going on in her head.

It had been interesting to watch Abby trying to intrude her way into the managing of her former rival. On the surface, as I have already reported, it seemed as though she was simply wanting to get to know Pixie better, but I'd not have been worth my own place on the programme if I'd taken that at face value. Abby had an agenda, and one purpose of the programme was to tease out underlying tensions between future leaders. I knew from my briefing book that Pixie had hardly ever mentioned Abby to friends, but that the same could not be said in reverse. Abby seemed to have something of an obsession with Cat. Regressing Cat to Pixie provided an opportunity to explore that, I had assumed, by stripping one of the women of her adult protections.

I was clever enough to wonder quite why Dame Suzie, who is the driving force behind this programme, might want to do this? Most of those in the know assumed, as I knew from their comments on Cat, that she was on course to be Dame Suzie's deputy when Karen, the current incumbent moved on next year. It was also not uncommon knowledge (though not universal) that Cat admired Dame Suzie the other side of idolatry. My own view was that Cat was in love with Dame Suzie. You only had to look at her face in Suzie's company to see there was something more there than professional admiration. But given all that, I could not for the life of me see why Dame Suzie would want to make Cat, as Pixie, vulnerable to the predatory Abby? Was there simply some kink there I was not party to?

Pixie, as I was now used to thinking of her, emerged from the room freshly showed and wrapped in a towel.

"Given the time," she asked, "shall I get my uniform on, or do you want to make a performance?"

Again, I noted, that while utterly respectful of my authority, Pixie was nonetheless asserting herself, so I let it ride. if this was the "but..." which Dame Suzie had mentioned, I wanted to see where it went.

Pixie looked good in her uniform. She really was a very pretty woman, and stripped of her adult accessories, she made an extremely cute schoolgirl. Oddly, or not, given my own hesitations about the extreme regression, I found myself feeling actually maternal toward her. I told myself to snap out of it; it was ridiculous. I did not have a maternal bone in my body, and I had certainly enjoyed my role as her dominant, relishing her joy in submission; so I had no idea where the caring thoughts came from. I realised, and duly noted for my report, that it had been these impulses which had stopped me from humiliating her further.

At breakfast we met up with the rest of our group. Abby took a great interest in Pixie, fussing over her and getting her some breakfast, even offering to cut up her food for her. Pixie had thanked her, and I had intervened to ward her off. Monica had clearly had a good night with Janet, and they both looked, for want of a better phrase, "shagged out." Kay, Abby's in house partner, also looked rather tired. I made a mental note to find out more at our debrief later. Oddly, the only one of the six of us who seemed entirely together was Pixie.

The first session was on the psychology of teaching, from the point of view of the school student, and several current school students, as well as some of the ihps gave their views on what made for effective learning. Maybe it wasn't the most exciting start, but well before the end Abby was feeling up Kay, and Monica and Janet seemed out of it. Pixie was taking notes - and seemed especially interested in one of the school students who talked about her crushes on her teachers and how that could in some cases, actually help the learning process. Abby also seemed interested - but not enough to take notes.

The group leader announced that the first session after lunch would be following up on some of the lessons to be learned from what we had just seen. Our group was not the only one which seemed hung over from the night before. There were two other groups of six women, and they seemed as surprised as some of my group at the idea that we'd be role-playing later.

Over coffee and cookies, Pixie talked with Janet, and seemed oblivious to Abby's attempts to feel her up. Not even when Abby's hand went up the back of her short skirt did she flinch. Pixie just carried on listening to what Kay and Janet were saying, her only concession to being groped in public was to push back against Abby's hand.

Lunch provided an interesting example of the comparison between us. Abby went for the "healthy option" of salad, as did Kay. Monica, by contrast, went for the vegetarian curry, while Janet went for the steak sandwich, the option I chose. Pixie, who chose to wait at the back, came back with a banana and some water; she drank some of the latter but left the banana intact.

"Now, in this session", Miss Rose announced, we shall be role-playing. Abby, I want you to lead the class, with Penny helping you; the other members of your group will be your tutor group and I want you to take them through a topic of your choice. The other two groups, I want you to find opportunities to participate if they occur."

One of the messages of the morning session had been that pupils learned better if they felt they were participants in the learning process, but it seemed, from her approach, as though Abby had not been listening.

She took us through the physiological effects of working out, getting Kay to demonstrate the exercises - which gave us all the delight of watching her sexy arse in tight latex shorts doing squats - and Monica the pleasure of taking her vitals. I could see Janet and Pixie were, like the other groups, bored, but gradually, I noticed Abby's attention focussing on Pixie, even as she got Kay to do push-ups. Pixie was quietly putting the banana up her skirt and beginning to wriggle. Her legs, like her lips were parted, and she was looking at Abby as she raised her skirt. Those of us near her could see that Abby kept staring at her, but expect for me, not why. From when I was standing at the front of the class, I could see what Abby could see. Pixie had pulled her knickers aside and had slid the fruit into her pussy, which she was slowly, but deliberately, fucking.

Abby was flustered. To call Pixie out would be to admit she had lost control of the class, and she had clearly listened to enough of the morning session to have taken in the lesson that losing the class was the cardinal sin. Then it seemed as though inspiration had struck.

"Miss Hoffmann, why don't you give us your view on the physiological effects of working out?"

If she had expected Pixie to flinch, Abby had been wrong.

"Why, of course, Miss Abby. May I come to the front of the class, Miss?"

As she said that, she removed the banana from her pussy and sucked the end, smiling at Abby and myself.

Standing at the front, she took Abby's chair, and sitting open-legged on it, she said:

"Miss Abby was not clear what effect I was meant to comment on, so, taking on board what we learned earlier, can I ask you for your interpretations of the question?"

Hands went up.

One girl from the second group said:

"If I am honest, Miss Hoffmann, I was wondering why Miss Abby seemed so distracted. I was wondering if it was for the reason I was - that I was so aroused by the sight of Kay working out in latex, or whether there was another reason."

At that, laughter rippled across the room. Kay smirked, Abby looked nonplussed, but Pixie stayed focussed.

"I've a sense that many of you share that student's view - can I take a show of hands?"

Of the sixteen women in the audience, ten of them put their hands up.

Turning to me, Pixie asked:

"Miss Penny, what would you say if I said that one of the most common effects of working out in the gym is the one least often commented upon?"

Smiling, I said that depending on what she meant, I would not be surprised.

"Miss Abby, the student wondered whether it was Kay's admittedly delightful arse which distracted you." Turning back to the class, she asked: "how many of you think it was?"

Abby had been about to reply when Pixie's follow-up question cut her off.

Only half a dozen of the women thought that was the cause, although most of them, in the discussion which followed, admitted that they had found that arousing.

Watching the discussion develop, Pixie bided her time until a gap in the conversation flow gave Abby a chance to intervene.

"I'm not sure where this is going Miss Hoffmann, we seem to have veered away from the subject of the physiological effects of working out."

Looking at Abby sweetly, Pixie then turned to a clearly very engaged class:

"Well girls, we could see some effects on Kay, but if," and she turned straight to Monica, "I were to ask you, Miss Monica, what you thought the most common effect of Kay's work-out was in this room, what would you say?"

Monica, who had clearly been impatient with Abby's way of handling it, and was anxious to assert her own leadership by doing better, was decisive.

"Surely, Hoffmann it was the fact that most of us got wet watching?"

Pixie smiled sweetly.

"As a hypothesis, Miss Monica, there is evidence to support it. Would others agree?"

There followed a round of discussion in which the women opened up with each other even more, all of them admitting to being aroused by Kay's work-out. Turning to me, Pixie asked:

"Miss Penny, there is a consensus on what the most common effect was, but could that have been what was distracting Miss Abby?"

"No," I responded, "because Miss Abby was standing so close to Kay that she could not get the view the rest of you were."

Smiling with a sweet, but deadly smile, Pixie asked Abby quietly what it was that had so distracted her.

"You, you little bitch, you were sticking that fucking banana up your cunt!"

Abby lost it. The long wait for a chance to intervene, and Pixie's line of questioning had brought her to boiling point.

"So, Miss Abby, it was my wet cunt which distracted you? In that sense, I was simply suffering from the same condition of the rest of us - but should you really have been looking up the skirt of one of your students."

There was an outburst of schoolgirl giggling, and Abby, furious, said:

"Time is up, enough!"

In fact there was another ten minutes left and, ignoring her outburst, Pixie suggested to Kay that she should gently work down to ensure two things: relaxation for herself, and confirmation for the rest of us that she had the "best arse in the room."

By the end, Abby had left the room.

As the women giggled around the coffee and pastries, Miss Rose approached me.

"What just happened?"

"You know that Dame Suzie suggested there was a 'but' factor in Pixie's submissive nature?"

She nodded.

"I think we just saw what she meant. Without once breaking character, she got the entire class interested, got them all talking - and showed them how to deal with a bullying teacher."

As I compiled my pre-supper report - and wrote these notes - I looked over to where Pixie was relaxing with a book. Catching my eye, she giggled:

"Was that a 'but' or a "butt" caveat do you suppose, Miss Penny?"

I giggled back at her.

"How did you ...?"

"Oh it was not too hard. Dame Suzie likes to caveat her comments - and with me, that often takes the form of a but, even if not as well-formed as Kay's. Shall we dress for dinner now, or does that pussy of your need my tongue?"

Her caveat was right. It did. An orgasm later, I wondered why she had still not cum - and how she would deal with Abby. For a diaper-girl she seemed curiously dangerous.