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Chapter One Fern stood before the rich mahogany door, hand trembling as she willed herself to move. (I’m just going to look. There’s no harm in looking, right?) She rolled her eyes at herself–there was plenty of harm in looking. If her landlady caught her, Fern might find herself homeless within the hour. She didn’t expect Aurelia to be forgiving of a tenant snooping around her bedroom. Fern had found herself a good place–the shared house was practically a mansion, even if she shared it with three other women, and the rent was comfortably within her price range. She was only a ten minute jog from her new job, and her new housemates were friendly and polite. It would be the height of stupidity to risk all that for mere curiosity, and yet… … Two nights earlier “Ah-AH!” Fern jumped, alarmed by the sound. She hadn’t heard anyone come home, but at some point during her midday nap, someone had come in, and they were…screaming? Heart racing, Fern crept to her bedroom door with quick, silent strides. She was still wearing her scrubs from work, she hadn’t taken them off before crashing into her nap. Her socks on the hardwood floor didn’t make a sound, and she held her breath. Could it be a home invader? She heard a loud SMACK! and a second yelp of pain in a different register. Then a voice, loud, stern, and familiar. “I don’t want to hear it–this is what you get when you don’t listen.” Aurelia’s voice, there was no mistaking it. Fern’s landlady, the matron of the house. As confident as she was rich, Fern had never heard the woman sound uncertain about anything, but now her words carried notes of diamond, hard and unbreakable. “Please, I told Leah we shouldn’t, but,” Carolyn’s voice echoed through the house, muted by several walls but no less distinct. “I just–” SMACK! “You are responsible for your own choices, young lady!” Fern built a mental picture as she crept into the hallway, towards the door on the opposite end of the wing. Aurelia had two nieces, Leah and Carolyn, and they’d done something to upset their aunt, something that had pushed Aurelia to hurt them. (Did I rent a room from a monster?) As the smacks and cries of pain continued, Fern stepped up to the door, crouching, peering through the old-style keyhole. It only offered limited flashes of the room beyond, but she saw enough. Two round, pert butts were pointed towards her, raised in the air, displaying bright pink stripes that criss crossed over light olive skin. Heart pounding her chest, Fern could only watch. … Shaking away the memory, Fern grabbed the handle of the bedroom door and threw it open, unable to fight her curiosity any longer. She half expected to find some array of punishment devices laying around the room, but Aurelia’s bedroom seemed remarkably normal…or, at least, normal for someone with her income. A bed against one wall, a private master bath, plenty of space, a shelf stacked with well-loved books. If Fern hadn’t seen what she’d seen, she never would have suspected the truth. Only her spying told her where to look, spotting two pairs of scuff marks on the hardwood floor, pointed towards… She swallowed, eyes raising up to the bookshelf. Walking forward as though in a trance, captivated by the need to see for herself what lay beyond it, she looked over the shelf, skimming titles until she found the unique choice amongst them. Histoire d’O. The title was the only French novel, but more than that, the subject matter couldn’t be a coincidence. Hand drifting up, Fern pulled on the book with a finger. It leaned forward slightly, then the bookshelf swung away from her, revealing the secret room hidden within. … Peering through the door, Fern held her breath, straining to see. Aurelia brought down a cane onto the exposed asses of the girls. By shifting her view, Fern could see that the girls had been stripped and made to bend over, heads down so that their long brown hair dangled almost onto the floorboards, touching their toes, leaving their bare butts completely vulnerable. Aurelia stalked from side to side, striking the two girls without mercy. With every impact, Fern’s heart slammed in her chest, anticipation building. Though horrified, she couldn’t look away, needing to see every mark, every crack of the switch. She craved it. Finally, Aurelia stepped back, her voice as steady and dominant as ever. “That’s enough. Standing.” Both girls stood together, adopting similar postures, their shaking legs shoulder-width apart and their naked bodies facing their aunt. Leah moved to rub at her cheeks, to soothe the soreness, but that only earned her a crack of the switch across her knuckles. Fern caught the flash of a smirk on Carolyn’s lips, the girl’s brown eyes sparkling for just a moment before her expression returned to quiet submission. “We’ve learned our lesson,” Carolyn promised. “We shouldn’t have stayed out–” She froze, swallowing, reacting to an expression on Aurelia’s face that Fern couldn’t see. “Your lesson,” Aurelia explained, snapping her cane in her hand for emphasis, “is not over. I don’t know when Fern will be home tonight, but tomorrow night, she’s been scheduled for a double shift. We’ll have the house all to ourselves, and then we’ll see if you’ve really learned your lesson. Do you understand?” Whimpering, both girls nodded, eyes down, refusing to so much as look at their aunt. Fern swallowed, and she felt immediately that she had to know more. … Stepping forward in a daze, Fern looked at the treasures arranged in the hidden room. It was more than she’d ever imagined. Some of the implements she’d seen before, when–last night–she’d arranged to have her shift covered and snuck home to witness the girls’ promised punishment. Fern had been unable to resist the allure, the need to know, and so she’d made her way back to her peephole, silent as a mouse, to watch the punishment. Two leather benches took up the center of the room. Fern could visualize the images from the previous evening that were now burned into her memory. The outline of two girls bent over them, butts in the air, hands and ankles cuffed in place so that they could not escape their torment. Arranged so that they were opposite each other, the girls gave Fern a perfect peep show. She could see Leah’s face, her narrow brown eyes burning red, tears streaking her makeup, while Carolyn’s exposed ass demonstrated why–bruises mark the skin, a canvas for an artist who worked with paddles and floggers. They’d each been allowed a little slack in the cuffs holding one wrist, so that they could reach out, holding each other’s hands for comfort throughout the torment–their only source of respite as Aurelia struck them, again and again. One shelf was taken up purely by implements meant for spankings. A half-dozen slender canes, some willowy and flexible, others thick and hard. A rain of blows left a dozen parallel stripes of pain on Carolyn’s skin, and each mark is matched by a desperate, high yelp. In contrast, a thick, small leather tool sat all alone, one end weighed down by lead shot. Bruising impacts fell, heavy thuds that forced Leah’s body into the bench. She whimpered and begged in a throaty, desperate voice, but her aunt showed not an ounce of mercy. Heart fluttering as she looks away from the spanking tools, Fern stepped up to a tall steel stand. Two clear plastic bags hung from the top, long hoses dangling below, with valves to control water flow. Still restrained, both girls were helpless as Aurelia stalked around them, holding a pair of identical nozzles that dangled from matching enema bags. The bags sagged on the stand, full of sudsy water, so much that Fern didn’t believe it could all possibly fit inside the petite girls. “Let’s see if you can do better than last time,” she taunted, stopping behind Carolyn and plunging the tip of one nozzle deep inside. Carolyn inhaled sharply, gasping as the enema hose filled her up. Leah took it better, biting her lip and closing her eyes to brace for the penetration. They both held their bodies tight and tense. Their freshly bruising bottoms quivered, knowing that this would only be the start. “One quart each,” Aurelia said, and Fern realized only then that the girls, with their heads low and eyes downcast, couldn’t see how full the bags were. “But–” Leah began. “Shut up!” Carolyn snapped, before the other niece could get them into further trouble. Aurelia smirked and laughed. “You should listen to her, unless you both want to try the full three quarts.” “But that’s–” Leah repeated, eyes widening as she realized her mistake. Carolyn shook her head, butt wiggling slightly in the air, but she couldn’t stop the words after they’d already been said. Aurelia only smirked. “Two quarts it is. Do you want to go for three?” Both girls fell silent. Nodding, Aurelia reached up and released the nozzles. The water lines began to lower, sloshing into the girls, who whimpered as they were filled up with painful, dribbling slowness. She left the girls there, leaving for just a moment. “You brat!” Carolyn snapped, while they had a moment of semi-privacy. “I’m sorry,” Leah whimpered in response, helpless squeaks of discomfort escaping her throat as the enema filled her more and more. “I–I couldn’t help it!” Before they could say anything further, Aurelia returned with a large pitcher, making good on her threat by topping off the enema bags. “If this doesn’t help you learn,” Aurelia mused, grinning wickedly as she watched the two girls squirm and squeak, wriggling their bruised bottoms in the air as water poured into them drip by drip. “We may have to try a more enduring lesson. I wonder–would daily spankings for a week keep you both in line? Or daily enemas?” Both girls whimpered, shaking their heads. “Of course,” Aurelia said, as though they’d answered her. “It should be both! So remember–that’s what will happen if you fuck up again–and that’s if I choose to be merciful.” Back in the present, mind still half lost in the memory, Fern’s eyes fell on the rear-most shelf, and her breath fell still. Upon that shelf, in styles ranging from plain white to decorated and juvenile, were dozens–hundreds, even–of stacked adult diapers. Whimpering as they returned from the privacy of the bathroom after being allowed to release their enemas, the girls laid down, squirming but silent, onto a pair of pads on the bed. Fern’s peephole could just barely see that far to the side, letting her watch as Aurelia wrapped the squirming girls up in their diapers. “Let’s see if you’ll still stay out late wearing these,” Aurelia warned. “Or do you think nobody will notice your puffy bottoms if you go dancing in your miniskirts while wearing your diapers?” Fern moved towards the thick, puffy garments in a trance, reaching out to touch the object of her obsession,, to feel the slight plastic crinkle beneath her trembling fingertips. Near the end of the stack, a pair of handcuffs had been left out away from its home with the other restraints, sitting on one of the diapers. The contrast between the two–a juvenile object of comfort and a hard, sharp tool of bondage–left her feeling dizzy. Her gaze fell over the pair of glimmering steel handcuffs, polished to a mirror shine. She saw herself in the restraints, her own dark eyes enormous puddles of desperate need, her nut-brown skin flushed, sweat beading on her forehead. She felt as though she’d been running for miles, heart beating fast, but instead of fatigue, she wanted something, wanted to– Fern’s eyes widened further as she saw another face reflected in the cuffs, and she spun, yelping in alarm. Aurelia stood in the closet doorway, looking like a Greek goddess of vengeance. Arms on her hips, standing tall, the older woman glared fire down at the trembling Fern. “What, exactly, do you think you’re doing?” ... Written as a commission Two more chapters of this story are on their way soon! If you want to support the creation of stories like this, please consider subscribing or getting a commission. (Or both! One perk of subscription is that you get discounts on commissions!) 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I am a 35 year old Anastasia de Cruz. I am a principal of college. I am a tall and blushing brunette with a strict character. I carefully monitor the discipline and all the innovations. I decided to try a new reform. Childhood treatment. I have in mind one student from "4b" who has long been in my mind. He does not study well and skips classes regularly. And this is 18-year-old Jayden McKoy. This time I caught he in the act. He flew to college with a bag he literally crashed into me. "You are late Jayden again." I looked at my watch - "The second lesson is already ending. I'm afraid that you are punished. I am waiting for you in 15 minutes in my office."

There's more on my blog too, though it's kind of all over the place. (You should be able to click these for larger versions)

When I was a kid it was pretty commonplace to spank for bedwetting and particularly for chronic bedwetting because back then it was viewed as a discipline rather than medical issue. I was a regular bedwetter until well into puberty. I was often although not severely spanked, usually with 5 or six moderate swats that were more embarassing than painful. When I was younger I got it by hand and later when I was older with a hairbrush. Now I have a fetish that associates wetting and spanking and I wonder if its caused by that experience and if others had similar experiences?