Emily's Punishment: Part Two

Chapter Three - I Hate Mondays

Chapter Three – I Hate Mondays

Emily tossed and turned as she lay somewhere between sleep and awake, half dreaming and half remembering the previous evening's events. The feeling of shame as she sat wetting herself in the movie theatre, the anger she'd felt at Alex for subsequently berating her and making her feel like a child – then, thoughts of her later punishment flashed through her mind. The spanking, the nappies and of course, the humiliating way he'd fed her baby food after she'd been made to wait for him to finish his Chinese takeaway meal.

She thought about how impatient he'd been with her as he'd sat her on the dining chair in the kitchen, tied a bib around her neck, and practically forced her to eat the brown, runny gloop with a small, plastic spoon. She thought about how she'd spilled some down her bib, and how he'd simply rolled his eyes, calling her a 'messy little girl', before wiping her face and hands with a baby wipe. She thought about how he'd led her to the bedroom at an unreasonably early time, and put her to bed, still in the same double nappies, without letting her use the toilet first. Then, a sudden sense of urgency woke her.

Fuck! I need a wee! she thought, checking the time on her smart watch. Half past four, shit, he'll be getting up for work soon. No way I can sneak to the toilet with him still here. I'll wait for him to go to work. I think I can hold on long enough – I hope I can.

Emily shut her eyes and rolled onto her back. As she gently tried to move her legs together, she heard a muffled crinkling from under the duvet. She let out a small, frustrated huff, feeling annoyed that she'd let him put her in this position yet again.

No way I'll get back to sleep now, she thought, fidgeting her legs and trying to find a comfortable position. At least I'll be at work in a few hours and everything will be back to normal again... I certainly won't be giving him another excuse to treat me like a baby again. Not a chance. Emily rolled onto her side and tucked her hand between her legs, pressing it tightly against her crotch.

Ooh I really am bursting to go! And of course he's expecting me to be wet by the morning. And of course he's almost certainly going to be right, again. As usual! She turned her head and glared at the darkened shape snorting softly next to her. It'd be so funny if I stayed dry and HE wet the bed. That would serve him right so much! I'd be like 'Ha! Now look who can't keep their pants dry! I told you that would happen and you wouldn't believe me. Now look at you lying there in your pissy wet boxers, while I'm, completely dry! You're a big baby, that's what you are, a big, pissypants baby who can't keep his underwear dry for more than five minutes.

A smug, victorious smile crossed Emily's face as she lay with her eyes shut, imagining a variety of scenarios where the tables had been turned. She tried to focus her mind, imagining how he'd look to wet his pants in front of her. How would he react? she thought, as she wondered if he'd try to act casual, or become red-faced and embarrassed. How would I react? Would I laugh at him? Make fun of him? Maybe tell him off like he does to me, or I could baby him and comfort him, so he knows how it feels.

Emily tried to visualise the wet spot forming on the front of his trousers, growing and growing until it was running down his legs. She rolled onto her back again and smiled triumphantly, feeling as though she'd somehow got the best of him, despite it all being in her mind.

So focused, as she was, on her little fantasy, imagining every subtle detail of how he'd lose control of his bladder right in front of her, utterly humiliating himself in the processes, that she barely noticed as she began to lose control of her own.

The crotch of her nappy directly between her thighs suddenly grew hot as a warm flow began to expand, rapidly moving down between her buttocks and quickly soaking into the thick padding beneath her bottom. Emily gasped, jolting from her dream, but there was no stopping it. The process had begun and all she could do was lie there, cringing and squirming while she felt hot streams of piss flow out, and run around her inner thighs and buttocks, soaking into the padding and causing it to swell. Most of it flowed naturally down, swelling beneath her bottom until she felt like she was sitting on a warm, squishy cushion, but soon it began to spread between her legs and towards the front, absorbing into the expanding padding and forcing her legs further apart.