I woke up with a start, the sunlight streaming through my window, and a strange sensation between my legs. My heart sank as I realized the familiar warmth and wetness—I had wet myself again, this time in my sleep. The pull-up I was wearing, a humiliating reminder of my punishment, had done its job, but the feeling of lying in my own urine was mortifying.
As I lay there, frozen in embarrassment, my bedroom door creaked open, and my mother walked in. Her eyes immediately went to the large wet spot on my bed and the pull-up that had failed to contain my accident.
"Oh, Amber, what have we here?" she said, her voice stern. "Looks like you've had another accident. Come on, let's get you cleaned up."
I felt my face burning with shame as I sat up, my pull-up sagging under the weight of the urine. My mother helped me out of bed, her hands gently guiding me to the bathroom. She removed the wet garment, cleaning me thoroughly, her touch both comforting and humiliating at the same time.
"There, all clean," she said, her tone softening slightly. "Now, let's get you dressed for school. You don't want to be late."
I nodded meekly, feeling like a little child as she dressed me in a cute pink dress, complete with frilly socks and Mary Jane shoes. My long blonde hair was brushed and tied into pigtails, making me look even younger than my already youthful appearance.
"There, my little princess," she cooed, adjusting my hair. "You look adorable. Now, remember to be a good girl at school, and no more accidents."
I nodded again, feeling a strange mix of emotions. On one hand, I was embarrassed and ashamed, but there was also a small part of me that enjoyed the attention and the way my mother was taking care of me.
At school, I tried my best to act normal, but the pull-up beneath my dress was a constant reminder of my humiliation. I felt self-conscious as I walked into Mr. Johnson's class, my cheeks flushed with embarrassment. The day seemed to drag on forever, and I held my breath every time I felt the urge to use the bathroom, terrified of having another accident.
During lunch, I sat alone, picking at my food, when suddenly I felt a sharp pain in my stomach. Before I could even process what was happening, I soiled myself, the warm mess filling my underwear. Panic-stricken, I jumped up, knocking my chair over, and ran out of the cafeteria.
I sprinted home, my eyes stinging with tears of humiliation. I tried to sneak into the house, but my mother was waiting for me in the hallway.
"Amber, what's the rush? And why are you home so early?" she asked, her eyes narrowing.
I stood there, frozen, unable to speak. She grabbed my arm and pulled me towards her, her eyes fixing on the back of my dress. With a swift motion, she lifted the back of my skirt, revealing the soiled underwear.
"Oh, Amber, not again," she sighed, shaking her head. "I thought I told you to be a good girl. Come with me."
She marched me upstairs to my room, where she undressed me, her movements efficient and matter-of-fact. She pulled down my soiled underwear, and the smell hit me, making my face burn even hotter. She cleaned me, the rough cloth wiping between my cheeks, and then dressed me in a fresh pull-up.
"You're going to wear these from now on, young lady," she said firmly. "And we'll see if that helps with your little problem."
The rest of the day was a blur of infantilizing care. She cut my food into small pieces at dinner, making sure I ate like a well-behaved toddler. After dinner, she took me to the bathroom, sitting me on the toilet and waiting until I peed, praising me like a child. I was then bathed and put to bed early, the soft teddy bears surrounding me in my crib-like bed.
The next morning, I woke up to my mother's gentle touch, helping me out of my pull-up and into the shower. She washed my body, her hands lingering on my breasts and between my legs, causing a strange tingling sensation. After the shower, she dressed me in a frilly, baby-doll dress, complete with a pair of white lacy pull-ups.
"You look so cute, my little baby girl," she cooed, adjusting the frilly socks on my legs. "Now, let's get you off to school."
I felt even more embarrassed than the day before as I walked into Mr. Johnson's class, the lacy pull-ups rustling under my dress. I could sense the other students' curious glances, but I kept my head down, focusing on the desk in front of me.
As the day progressed, I felt Mr. Johnson's eyes on me more and more. I could sense his desire, the way he looked at me when he thought no one was watching. My heart raced as I wondered what he might do.
Finally, the bell rang, signaling the end of the day. I gathered my things, eager to escape the stares and my own growing arousal. Just as I was about to leave, Mr. Johnson called out.
"Miss Amber, a word please," he said, his voice deep and commanding.
My heart skipped a beat as I turned to face him. His eyes were intense, burning with a mixture of desire and authority.
"Yes, Mr. Johnson?" I managed to squeak out, my voice barely audible.
"I've been noticing your… struggles lately," he said, stepping closer to me. "And I think it's time we address the root of the problem."
I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry. Mr. Johnson's hand reached out and gently lifted my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze.
"You've been a very naughty girl, Amber," he whispered, his hot breath caressing my face. "And naughty girls need to be taught a lesson."
Before I could respond, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me towards the closed door of the classroom. My heart was pounding as he locked the door, ensuring our privacy.
"Now, let's see what we have under here," he said, his fingers deftly unbuttoning the back of my dress. He slid the straps off my shoulders, letting the dress fall to the floor, leaving me standing in just my lacy pull-up.
"Such a naughty outfit for a naughty girl," he murmured, his eyes raking over my body. "But I think we can do better."
With that, he reached down and ripped the pull-up from my body, leaving me completely exposed. I stood there, trembling, my nipples hardening in the cool air.
"That's better," he said, his voice hoarse. "Now, bend over my desk."
I did as I was told, my heart racing with anticipation and fear. I felt his hands on my bare skin, caressing my ass cheeks, and then the sharp smack of his hand against my flesh.
"You've been a very bad girl, Amber," he growled, delivering another smack. "And I'm going to teach you a lesson you won't forget."
Each smack of his hand sent a jolt of pain and pleasure through my body. I bit my lip to stifle the moans that threatened to escape. Mr. Johnson's hand left red marks on my skin, and I could feel my pussy getting wetter with each strike.
"Oh, you like this, don't you, you little slut?" he hissed, his hand moving between my legs. He slid a finger into my wetness, making me gasp. "You've been a very naughty girl, and now you're going to be punished."
He pushed me onto my back on the desk, my legs hanging over the edge. In one swift motion, he unzipped his pants and pulled out his throbbing cock.
"Please, Mr. Johnson, I…" I started to protest, but my words were cut off as he pushed his thick member into my mouth.
He held my head in place, thrusting his cock deep into my throat. I gagged, my eyes watering, but he showed no mercy, using my mouth for his pleasure. His hands gripped my hair, controlling my movements as he fucked my face.
After a few minutes of this, he pulled out, his cock glistening with my saliva. "Now, it's time for your real punishment," he said, his voice thick with desire.
He positioned himself at my entrance, his cock pressing against my pussy lips. With one hard thrust, he buried himself inside me, claiming my body with his own. I cried out, my back arching off the desk as I felt him fill me completely.
Mr. Johnson began to move, his hips slamming against mine, driving his cock deep within me. The desk creaked with each powerful thrust, and I felt my orgasm building, the pleasure mixing with the pain from the earlier spanking.
"That's it, you dirty girl," he grunted, his hands gripping my thighs. "Cum for me, Amber. Show me how much you love being punished."
His words sent me over the edge, and I cried out as my orgasm ripped through my body. My pussy clenched around his cock, milking him as waves of pleasure washed over me.
Mr. Johnson continued to pound into me, his own release building. With a final, powerful thrust, he came, filling my pussy with his hot cum. He collapsed onto me, his weight pressing me into the desk, our sweaty bodies sticking together.
As we lay there, catching our breath, I realized this was just the beginning. Mr. Johnson had finally given in to his desires, and I knew that my submission to his discipline was far from over.
