The Easter Spirit

The Easter Spirit

“Did I what?” Ms. Kline scoffed, looking out at her class. “Are you serious?”

“I-I just thought,” the unfortunate student stammered, quaking under the eyes of his art teacher.

“I’m not three years old,” Ms. Kline said coldly. “I don’t decorate eggs. Do you?” She smirked as the boy squirmed in his seat uncomfortably. “Aww, how cute? Did you bring some pictures to show the class?”

She snickered, then blinked, sure she’d seen something dart across the corner of her vision; when she turned to look, it was gone. Shaking her head, she chuckled again and faced the chalkboard.

“All right, enough of this… Now, we were talking about the… impressionists, weren’t we?” She shook her head again, frowning at a strange feeling, and the low giggling coming from the room behind her. She shot the students a dirty look. “Do you want twice as much homework over your Easter weekend?” she demanded.

“Okay, so…” she picked up the chalk, trying to remember what she’d been planning to teach them. “Well, if you want to draw a bunny, then you just go like this!” It was so simple! Why did they need her for this?!

“Umm, Ms. Kline?” a student spoke up.

“What?” she spun, hearing an odd crinkling noise, fixing them with an icy glare. “Am I going too quickly?”

The student gave her a hurt look before shrugging. “Nothing, ma’am.”

“What would your Easter eggs look like, if you were big enough to decorate them on your own?” the first student asked.

“I’m plenty big!” Ms. Kline pouted, fidgeting at the sensation of warm liquid trickling into the thick padding between her legs. “And I can decorate Easter eggs real good! They’d look like this!” She began drawing, turning and giving her class a good look as her diaper began to droop more and more, almost in time with her speech growing more and more childish, never noticing the bunny ears on her head…

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