Chapter 34 — Dinner Plans

The morning light filtered through the dorm window, casting a soft glow over the crib where Elara sat, cradling Quinn in her lap. The roles had reversed since last night, and now Quinn was the one bound in the straitjacket, her arms secured tightly across her chest as she rested against Elara. A bottle of formula dangled loosely in Elara’s hand, the last drops already sucked dry by Quinn moments ago. As the nipple drew air with a faint gurgle, Quinn’s eyes fluttered open, meeting Elara’s gaze with a sleepy, contented look.

Elara set the bottle aside on the crib’s edge, her hands lingering for a moment before returning to hold Quinn closer. Her mind was still buzzing with flashes of the night before—vivid, heated memories that refused to fade. She could still see Quinn’s fingers working herself through the diaper, hear the breathy moans that had filled the small space between them, feel the teasing touches Quinn had trailed over her bound body in the dark hours. The scent of lust and excitement lingered in her memory, sharp and intoxicating. Though she’d never admit it out loud—not to Quinn, not to anyone—wearing that straight jacket hadn’t been all bad. There was something about the way the fabric hugged her tight, restraining yet oddly comforting, like being swaddled. It made her feel… safe, in a way she hadn’t expected. She’d even liked it, more than she cared to unpack right now.

“You good?” Quinn’s voice broke through her thoughts, muffled slightly against Elara’s shoulder but carrying that familiar playful edge even while bound.

“Yeah, just… holding you,” Elara replied softly, adjusting her grip to keep Quinn snug against her chest. Her fingers brushed over the canvas straps of the jacket, feeling the tension where they held Quinn immobile. It was strange seeing her like this after last night, but it stirred something warm and possessive in Elara’s chest.

“Mmm, I could get used to this,” Quinn murmured, nuzzling into the crook of Elara’s neck. “You playing caregiver isn’t half bad. Got that gentle touch down already.”

“Shut up,” Elara muttered, though there was no real heat behind her words. Her cheeks warmed at the comment as she tightened her hold just a bit, one hand resting on Quinn’s hip over the crinkled edge of the diaper still snug around her. “You’re lucky I’m not making you beg for me to let you out of this thing after all the crap you pulled last night.”

Quinn let out a low chuckle, shifting as much as the restraints allowed to tilt her head back and look up at Elara. “Oh, come on. You loved every second of it. Don’t think I didn’t notice how you squirmed when I was touching myself right next to you. Bet you’re still thinking about it.”

“Am not,” Elara shot back too quickly, her face heating further as she avoided Quinn’s knowing smirk. But those images kept creeping back—the way Quinn’s body had arched slightly with each gasp, the sound of padding rustling under desperate fingers, the teasing whispers that had made Elara’s own body ache despite being unable to do a damn thing about it.

“Liar,” Quinn teased, dragging out the word as she pressed herself closer into Elara’s lap. “I can see it on your face. Probably wishing you were back in this jacket yourself, huh? Letting me take control again.”

“Keep talking and I’ll leave you tied up ‘til noon,” Elara grumbled, though her voice wavered just enough to betray how much the taunt got under her skin. Her free hand absentmindedly traced along the buckles at Quinn’s side, fingertips lingering as if testing their hold.

“Go ahead,” Quinn said with a sly grin. “I’m comfy like this. Kinda hot being stuck here with you hovering over me anyway. Makes me wonder what else you’d do if I pushed your buttons some more.”

Elara rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress the faint shiver that ran through her at the suggestion. She shifted beneath Quinn, trying to ignore the way their closeness—and those damn memories—kept stoking something restless inside her. “Just hush for once and let me cuddle you without starting shit.”

“Fine, fine,” Quinn relented with an exaggerated sigh, settling back against Elara’s chest with a small wiggle that pressed their bodies tighter together. “But don’t pretend you aren’t enjoying having me all helpless for once. I can feel your heart racing from here.”

Elara didn’t respond to that, just tightened her arms around Quinn and buried her face partly into the other girl’s hair to hide whatever expression might give her away. They stayed like that for a while, nestled close in the quiet crib, neither seemed ready to fully leave behind just yet.

Elara’s voice cut through the silence. “Quinn, I think it’s time we do something and reveal what we know regarding Mommy and Daddy.”

Quinn froze in her lap, the playful warmth from moments ago draining from her face as she tilted her head up to meet Elara’s gaze. “What? You… think we should?”

“Have you seen the scores their reports have been giving out?” Elara pressed, her jaw tightening. “At the rate we’re going, we’re going to be lucky if we don’t get expelled. Even going as far as we are, they aren’t giving us full marks, and it’s ruining our scores. I think we need to threaten to reveal their precious little secrets once and for all in exchange for giving us full marks.”

Quinn sat quietly for a moment, her brow furrowed in deep thought. Her eyes darted away as she murmured, “I guess I hadn’t been looking that closely.” A faint blush crept up her cheeks. “I’ve been… distracted.” She shifted slightly in Elara’s hold, then looked back up. “What are you thinking to do?”

“We challenge them in a public setting,” Elara said. “Maybe the dining hall, with lots of people around. If they don’t say what we want them to, we reveal to the entire school who they really are.”

Quinn’s breath hitched. “That’s… bold as hell. You’re talking about straight-up blackmail in front of everyone? Like, no holding back?”

“Exactly,” Elara replied, leaning forward slightly, her hands still resting on Quinn’s restrained form. “We’ve got dirt on them that could ruin everything. They’re not going to risk that kind of exposure. We walk in there, lay out our terms—no more bullshit grading—and if they push back, we start spilling. Loudly.”

Quinn chewed her lip, her eyes narrowing as she weighed the risks. “And what if they call our bluff? Or worse, what if they turn it around on us? We’re not exactly squeaky clean ourselves with… all this.” She gave a small wiggle in the jacket, the diaper crinkling under her as a reminder of their own secrets.

“They won’t,” Elara said with confidence, though her fingers tightened just a fraction on Quinn’s hip. “They’ve got way more to lose than we do. Think about it—their reputations, their positions here, everything they’ve hidden behind those facades. We drop even half of what we know, and they’re done. They’ll fold before it gets to that point.”

Quinn let out a slow breath. “Okay, but… how do we even set this up? We can’t just waltz into the dining hall and start shouting accusations without a plan. People will think we’ve lost it.”

“We don’t shout right away,” Elara explained, her grin widening with every word. “We play it smart. Request a meeting with them during dinner hours, make sure it’s loud enough that others notice us heading over to their table. We sit down, nice and calm, and lay out our demands real quiet-like at first. Give them a chance to agree without making a scene. If they try to brush us off or act like they’ve got nothing to hide, then we raise our voices.”

“Damn,” Quinn muttered, a mix of admiration and nerves flickering across her face. “You’ve really thought this through, haven’t you? What happens after, though? Even if they give us full marks, won’t they come after us later for pulling something like this?”

“Let them try,” Elara shot back, her tone cold now. “Once we’ve got what we want on record, they can’t touch us without risking their own necks even further. Besides, if word gets out anyway, who do you think everyone’s going to side with? The students getting screwed over by unfair grades or the creepy higher-ups with skeletons in their closets?”

Quinn nodded slowly, her lips pressing into a thin line before curling into a small, reluctant smirk. “Alright, I’m in. But we got to be airtight about this—no slipping up, no hesitation when it’s go-time. And I swear, if this blows up in our faces, I’m blaming you for dragging me into your schemes.”

“Deal,” Elara chuckled softly, giving Quinn’s shoulder a light squeeze through the canvas jacket. “Now let’s get you out of this thing so we can start planning details. We’ve only got one shot to pull this off right.”

As she began unbuckling the straps behind Quinn’s back, her mind was already racing ahead—mapping out every word, every move for when they’d confront Mommy and Daddy in front of an audience too big to ignore.

Elara guided Quinn over to the changing table as she helped the other girl settle onto the padded surface. She tugged at the tabs of Quinn’s diaper, peeling it away with a faint crinkle, and couldn’t help but notice the slick sheen between her thighs, evidence of last night’s lingering excitement. A low chuckle escaped Elara’s lips as she shook her head, grabbing a wipe to clean her up.

“Whaaat?” Quinn drawled, her tone playful as she tilted her head to look at Elara, a teasing smirk on her lips.

Elara just shook her head again, not giving in to the bait. She focused on wiping down Quinn’s skin before sliding a fresh diaper under her hips and securing it snugly. Once done, she stepped back and hopped onto the table herself, lying back as Quinn took her place to return the favor.

“When were you thinking to do it?” Quinn asked, her hands already working to undo Elara’s diaper, fingers brushing lightly against skin as she pulled the padding away.

“Why wait? Let’s do it tonight,” Elara replied, her voice firm. “At dinner.”

Quinn raised an eyebrow, pausing mid-motion with the fresh diaper in hand. “Tonight? You sure?”

“The longer we wait, the more difficult it’ll be to get the points we need,” Elara said with a sigh, feeling the cool air on her skin before Quinn slid the new diaper under her. The soft material pressed against her as it was pulled up between her legs, tabs secured in place, pulling the diaper tight between her legs.

“Damn, you’re not messing around,” Quinn muttered, finishing up and giving the diaper a light pat before stepping back. “Dinner’s going to be packed. If we pull this off right there in front of everyone, they won’t have anywhere to hide.”

“That’s the point,” Elara said, sitting up and swinging her legs over the edge of the table. “We catch them off guard, make it impossible for them to dodge us.”

Quinn crossed her arms, leaning against the table with a thoughtful look. “Alright, but we got to be sharp. One wrong move and we’re screwed. You got what you’re going to say all planned out?”

“Mostly,” Elara admitted, hopping down and adjusting herself in the fresh padding.

“You know they’re going to try sweet-talking us out of it. What if they offer some half-assed deal instead of full marks?”

“Then we don’t budge,” Elara shot back, her eyes narrowing. “Full marks or we start talking. They’ll cave.”

Quinn nodded slowly, running a hand through her hair. “Okay. Tonight then. We’d better get ourselves cleaned up proper for dinner—look like we mean business. Last thing we need is anyone thinking this is some prank.”

“Good call,” Elara agreed, glancing toward their small wardrobe. “Let’s pick something that screams ‘we’re not fucking around.’ Then we go over every detail one more time before heading down. I want this airtight.”

“You got it,” Quinn said, pushing off from the table. “Let’s make these assholes regret ever messing with our grades.”

Elara and Quinn slipped into their crisp school uniforms, the fabric of their skirts and blouses fitting snugly as they adjusted collars and smoothed out wrinkles in the mirror. The air between them buzzed with unspoken tension, a mix of nerves and resolve. Elara’s stomach churned with anticipation, a flutter that wouldn’t settle as she tied her hair back and caught her own determined reflection. Tonight, everything would change—one way or another.

They grabbed their books and headed out, the dormitory halls already alive with the chatter of other students making their way to breakfast. The clatter of trays and the smell of toast and coffee filled the dining hall as they stepped inside, but Elara barely registered it. Her mind was already hours ahead, rehearsing every word, every move for the confrontation at dinner. Quinn nudged her lightly as they sat at their table, and Elara gave a small nod in return.

They were in this together.