Critiques and Writer's Discussion

I missed it!  It's Saturday early evening here already - dang time zones!

It's a typo, use your imagination and add an (e) at the end. Pretend like you're playing wheel of fortune. lol

In a Goodnite now. Need something that goes up and down because these are not the poops I'm searching for.

Chapter 19 Fifth Hour Part 1 The bell rang, cutting through the lingering cafeteria. Bradley didn’t move at first. He stayed slumped forward, forehead pressed to his folded arms, the faint sweet aftertaste of Michelle’s milk still coated his tongue, His mind was a flat, gray fog, repeating a loop of what had just happened: the couch, the stares, the warm weight of Michelle's breast against his face, the endless slurping sounds everyone heard. Ellie’s hand settled gently on his shoulder. “Come on, sweetie. Math's next. We need to go.” He didn’t respond. Didn’t lift his head. Ellie exchanged a quick glance with Katie, who rolled her eyes but stood anyway. Ashley and Jenna were already gathering their things, still snickering under their breath about “nursing time.” Ellie slid her arm under Bradley’s and coaxed him upright like she was lifting a sleepy toddler from a nap. He let her. His legs moved when she guided them, with no resistance, just compliance. Ellie noticed he still was wearing the bib. “Here let me get this off of you.” she said sweetly untieing it from his neck. She took his hand again, like she was helping a toddler cross the street, and started walking him to 5th hour. Katie, Ashley, and Jenna fell in behind them like an amused entourage. The hallway was already alive with the post-lunch rush, and the moment Bradley appeared, the laughter reignited. “There he is—the cafeteria show!” “Did you see him latch like a newborn?” “Look! Its Mommy’s little milk monster!” The taunts bounced off the lockers, loud and gleeful. Bradley didn’t flinch. Didn’t blush. Didn’t even look up. His eyes stayed fixed on the ground, glassy and distant, the same thousand-yard stare Ferris Bueller’s friend had when the car crashed through the window. He was there, walking, but he wasn’t really there. Ellie squeezed his hand tighter and kept her chin up, pace steady. Katie smirked at a group of girls who pointed and whispered. Ashley flipped her hair laughing along. None of it registered. Bradley just waddled forward, diaper crinkling softly with each step, hand limp in Ellie’s. They reached Ms. Robinson’s room. The door was already open; students were filing in.  Ms. Robinson was a tall, commanding woman in her mid-forties, her hourglass figure was highlighted by a crisp white blouse tucked into a form-fitting black pencil skirt. Her beautiful blonde hair fell in sleek waves past her shoulders. She had piercing blue eyes behind glasses. She stood with an impeccable posture and an unyielding gaze. Bradley thought of her as a strict teacher who ruled with absolute authority, quieting any classroom with one sharp, unyielding look. The second she saw Bradley, her lips curved into a smile. “Ahhh, there he is,” she said, voice dripping with false sweetness. “The special guy of the day.” She stepped forward, blocking their way to their seats so Ellie had to stop with Bradley in hand while The rest of the class filed past, shooting glances and stifled laughs. “I received a simply wonderful email from Principal Hargrove this morning regarding your new… care plan.” Ms. Robinson’s tone turned almost admiring. “I think it’s an excellent idea. Really, your mother is doing what so many parents these days are too afraid to do—providing the structure and discipline you clearly need.” Without another word she reached out, hooked two fingers into the waistband of his shorts, and yanked them straight down to his ankles. The thick white diaper came into view. Ellie just watched. She was now used to the teacher's duties. Bradley didn’t move. Didn’t gasp. Didn’t try to cover himself. He just stood there, eyes unfocused, letting her do what she needed to do. Ms. Robinson gave the front two brisk squeezes, then she turned him halfway around and tugged the rear waistband of his diaper open for inspection. Cool air hit his bottom. A few arriving students paused in the doorway to watch. “Still nice and clean,” she announced, loud enough for the hallway to hear. She snapped the elastic back, tugged his shorts up with efficiency, and delivered a single sharp pat to the padded seat. “There we go. You may take your seat now, young man.” Ellie guided him to his seat. The room was already half full. Emma and Anna sat together, heads close, whispering and giggling. Chloe was doodling on her notebook, oblivious as usual. Ashley claimed a desk near the window, legs crossed like she owned the place. Heather—the drama queen—was dramatically recounting something to anyone who’d listen.  Ellie steered Bradley to an empty seat in the middle and eased him down. The diaper compressed with a loud crinkle. He just sat there staring at his desk with vacant eyes. Class hadn’t officially started. Students were still trickling in. Then Caleb walked through the door. Teachers loved Caleb, they thought he was polite and charming, but the second their backs turned, he became a cold, predatory bully. Hannah clung to his arm—tight crop top, short skirt, cleavage on full display, giggling at whatever he’d just said. Caleb’s eyes found Bradley instantly. His grin widened into something predatory. He made sure Ms. Robinson was out in the hallway monitoring traffic before sauntering over to Bradley. Hannah trailed behind, already smirking. Caleb dropped into the seat right behind Bradley, and Hannah took the one to the right of Bradley.  “Hey, little guy,” Caleb said under his breath, voice syrupy sweet. He leaned in close. “Mommy… I’m huuuungry… feed meeee…” He made exaggerated suckling noises. Hannah snorted. A few classmates nearby turned, shoulders shaking with laughter. Bradley didn’t react. Didn’t lift his head. Just stayed curled forward, breathing shallow. Caleb pulled a water bottle from his bag—the kind with a built-in straw—and pressed the tip against Bradley’s lips, poking gently. “Here, baby. Here’s your ba-ba.” The straw nudged his mouth. Bradley’s lips parted slightly from the pressure but he didn’t drink. Just let it happen, eyes still vacant. Caleb frowned, mock-disappointed. “Ohhh. You must not be weaned yet. Still need Mommy’s milk.” Ellie, seated on the other side of Bradley, finally spoke up. Her voice was calm but edged. “At least he has a mommy. Is yours still in jail?” The room went briefly quiet. Caleb blinked, thrown for half a second. Then he recovered, flashing that charming, teacher-approved smile. “Awww. Baby Bradley’s babysitter is sticking up for him. How sweet.” Ellie leaned across the aisle toward Bradley, lowering her voice so only he could hear. “Don’t let him get to you, sweetie. Just ignore him. All bullies are insecure.” Caleb ignored her and turned to the rest of the class, raising his voice just enough. “So I was behind them in the cafeteria—couldn’t miss the show. His Mommy pulls her boobies right out. Presses it to his mouth like he’s an infant. And he’s just… latched. Slurping away. Milk dripping down his chin. I was literally rolling on the floor, I couldn't breathe.” Laughter rippled across the classroom. Caleb continued going, play-by-play. “‘Open wide for Mommy, sweetie.” he mocked. “She was rocking him like a baby! Then when I thought it was over, she switches boobs for round two!” Bradley’s shoulders tensed. The smallest movement, but Caleb noticed. “His mommy must really love him. But she doesn’t trust him at all, does she?” Caleb dropped his voice to a perfect imitation of Michelle’s calm authority. “‘Has someone already checked your diaper this hour, Bradley?’” Caleb leaned forward in his chair peeking into the back of Bradley's diaper parenting to check it. A few more laughs. Bradley started to noticeably shift in his chair but it was his first reaction since the feeding. Caleb continued his imitation of Michelle. “Did you have to go see Nurse Anna?” Bradley’s head sank lower. “Did you get a spanking?” Caleb paused, suddenly thoughtful. “Wait a second… I thought teachers couldn’t spank him.” Emma piped up, eager to correct. “They can now! Ms. Hargrove sent an email this morning. Teachers have full permission.” Anna nodded eagerly. “We heard it from Ms. Shayhan in first hour. Even Bare-bottom if they want. Whatever they deem necessary.” Caleb's eyes lit up, gears were turning in his head like he had an idea. His eyes drifted from Bradley, then to Ms. Robinson in the hallway.  He leaned back in his seat, and a slow smile spread across his face. Then the bell rang to start class.       Part 2 Ms. Robinson strolled back into the room and clapped her hands enthusiastically “Get out your notebooks class. Today we are reviewing the quadratic formula” Chairs scraped as notebooks were retrieved.  Ms. Robinson turned to the whiteboard, and wrote: ax² + bx + c = 0 x = [-b ± √(b² - 4ac)] / (2a) “I have quite a few examples to go through in preparation of this weeks test.” Soon the room fell into their familiar rhythm of notetaking. Trying to keep up with Ms Robinson as she would write an example, turn, explain it to the class, solve it, then repeat the process. Bradley sat in his chair, back against the seat, hands fallen beneath his desk where they rested limply in his lap. He stared down at the blank desk in front of him—no notebook, no pencil, nothing. His eyes fixed on the wood grain, unblinking. The fog in his head was thick. He was simply… absent.  Ellie sat next to Bradley on his left. Her posture was straight but tense, pen moving across her page, as her eyes flicked sideways toward him every few seconds to check on him. Hannah sat to Bradley’s right, legs crossed, pretending to understand what Ms. Robinson was saying, and Caleb sat directly behind Bradley, leaning forward like a predatory lion ready to pounce on Bradley. Caleb leaned so far forward until his mouth was inches behind Bradley's ear.  He whispered in a low venomous voice. “Man, Bradley… I still cant believe your mommy still spanks you.” Bradley’s shoulder twitched faintly—barely noticeable. Ms. Robinson kept writing, solving the equation. Caleb tried again, breath warm against his ear. “I bet you’re the only one in this entire school—who still gets spanked.” Bradley’s shoulders rose and fell once, a shallow breath. Caleb smiled, small and cruel. “Well… I guess you’re not too old to get spanked if you’re still in diapers.” Bradley shifted in his seat,. The diaper crinkled audibly. he was starting to get flustered Ellie turned her head sharply and shot Caleb a look that could have cracked glass, her pen freezing. Caleb met her gaze for a second. He smirked at her smugly, then flicked his gaze back to his “notes” as Ms. Robinson turned to face the class. “Any questions on the standard form?” she asked. Silence. She turned back to the board. Caleb leaned in again. “I bet you're never going to get out of those diapers, stuck in them for life.” Bradley’s hands clenched slowly beneath the desk. His breathing grew shallow. Visibly getting riled up. Ellie whipped her head around again, mouthing Knock it off at Caleb with unmistakable fury. He ignored her, pen scratching meaningless loops on his paper. Ms. Robinson drew a parabola. Caleb whispered, “Are you getting fussy, Bradley? Are you hungry? Do you need to suck?” “Hannah has some nice things to suck” he looked to Hannah who wasn't paying attention to the lecture but was enjoying Bradley's discomfort. He nodded, giving her a look that said do it. Hannah leaned over to Bradley sideways from her seat, their shoulders were touching. Her large breasts now under his nose. She cupped her breasts through her tight crop top and gave them a firm, deliberate shake—seductive, mocking—right in front of him. Ellie leaned around Bradley toward Hannah, her voice low but laced with disgust and disbelief. “Do you have no modesty?” Hannah just smirked and gave another small shake before settling back. Bradleys head fell further down. He had snapped out of his trance. His face was starting to turn red. He was starting to get furious with Caleb.  Caleb sensed the change and went for the kill, leaning even closer so his words were practically inside his skull. “I’ve got something you can suck, Bradley, but it squirts a different kind of milk.” That was it. Bradley exploded out of his chair. The legs screeched against the floor. He spun around, leaned over Caleb’s desk, got right in his face and roared, “FUCK YOU, Caleb!” The room went silent. For one glorious second, Bradley felt power, pride, he actually felt good!  Then reality sank in. He slowly turned around to see Ms. Robinson at the front of the room, brandishing a face of cold fury.  Ellie had her forehead in her hand, the universal posture of someone who knew it was all about to go sideways. Caleb sat perfectly still, hands folded innocently on his desk, expression wide-eyed and wounded, the picture of an unjustly accused angel. Bradley’s stomach plummeted. Ms. Robinson’s voice roared with fury. “Bradley Thompson, what did i hear you just say?” Bradley stammered he did know what to say. “To the front of the class. NOW!”       Part 3 Bradley slowly made his way to the front of the class. His legs felt like lead. One heavy step. Then another. Shoulders slumped, head down. His diaper crinkled loudly with every movement—obscenely in the quiet room. He knew he was screwed. Ms. Robinson stood waiting, hands planted firmly on her hips, her tall frame towering over the spot she pointed to. Her foot tapped impatiently, the sharp click of her heel against the tile marked each agonizing second of his walk. The class watched in hushed anticipation. A low ripple of “ooohs” spread through the room as he passed. Behind him, Caleb let out a triumphant chuckle—satisfied he got Bradley in trouble. Bradley stopped on the spot Ms. Robinson indicated, his eyes glued to the floor. She loomed above him, easily a head taller. Ms. Robinson wagged a long, manicured finger right in his face. “How dare you interrupt my class again, Bradley—and with profanity, no less.” Ms. Robinson’s voice cut like steel through the room. “You’re fortunate I don’t have a bar of soap handy, or I’d wash that mouth out right here in front of everyone.” Katie leaned up from her desk, smirking. “Don’t worry, Ms. Robinson. I’ll tell my mom. She’ll wash his mouth out tonight for sure.” Laughter rolled through the class like a wave. Bradley’s face ignited crimson, heat crawling up his neck. He spun toward Ms. Robinson, voice cracking with desperation. “Please—it wasn’t my fault. Caleb was really bugging me—” She silenced him with a raise of her hand. Her gaze darted to Caleb—sitting prim and proper, the model of innocence—before returning to Bradley. “This isn’t the first time you’ve disrupted my class, Bradley,” she said, wagging her finger right in his face. “I’ve sent you to the principal’s office multiple times, and clearly you still haven’t learned your lesson.” She paused, letting the words sink in. “Fortunately, as of today, your mother has given me permission to use far more effective methods.” Ms. Robinson turned from him, stepped behind her desk, and reached into her purse with calm deliberation. “I suspected this might happen—so over lunch I went out to my car and brought this in.” She raised a large wooden hairbrush from her purse. It was identical to the one Michelle used on him at home. Bradley’s shoulders jerked with a shudder he couldn’t suppress. The room filled with hushed, eager whispers. They all recognized the implement—and knew what she intended to do with it.. Bradley stared at the implement in stunned silence. Oh no. Not the hairbrush. Not a spanking. Not here—not in front of everyone. His mind flooded with memories of Michelle’s spankings, they were always painful and left him in babyish sobs. He lifted his eyes to Ms. Robinson’s face. Her gaze was steel and unyielding. She’s serious. She’s really going to spank me right here in front of the whole class.  A frantic protest rose in his chest, “Please don't spank me—it wasn’t my fault. It was Caleb, he was being mean to me—” His protests fell on deaf ears. He scanned the room for any hope of escape, but found only grinning, expectant faces—except for Ellie. She sat rigid in her seat, arms crossed, her glare fixed on Caleb, who lounged back with a triumphal grin. Ms. Robinson raised the hairbrush slightly to hush the murmurs rippling through the room. “Now, Bradley,” she continued evenly, “I know this is new for you—receiving a spanking—” “Oh, he’s not new to spankings, Ms. Robinson,” Katie chimed in again, her voice dripping with mock sympathy. “He gets them all the time.” “Yeah, I saw it myself last Saturday,” Caleb piped up grinning, clearly enjoying the memory. “His mommy had him bent over right in the middle of Walmart, diaper and everything.” Bradley’s face burned hotter as they discussed his spankings. Go on. Just tell everyone about my spankings, he thought bitterly, wishing they could keep talk about his spankings a private matter. Ms. Robinson’s lips curved in a small smile. “Let me clarify, then” she said addressing the class—before returning to Bradley. “Bradley, I know this is new for you to receive a spanking here at school but I cannot allow your outburst to go unpunished. Especially not with your history of repeated disruptions.”  She paused, letting Bradley process. “So I’m going to have to give you……. a spanking…….and an extra severe one for using profanity.” “Now bend over, Bradley,” she said, pointing the hairbrush at her desk. He hesitated, glancing at all the smiling, eager, watchful eyes. “Do you have to do it here? Can’t you do it in the hallway or something?” he asked, voice small and pleading. She shook her head. “No, Bradley. If you’re going to disrupt my class in front of everyone, I’m going to discipline you in front of everyone.” Before he could protest further, she spun him around so his back faced the class, then pressed firmly on his shoulder, bending him forward until he was draped across her desk—forearms, tummy, and cheek flat against the surface. To keep him in place, she kept one hand firmly on his lower back. All Bradley could do was whimper. “Please, I’m sorry, Ms. Robinson. Please don’t spank me.” His pleas went unheard as she reached down, and yanked his shorts down to his ankles in one swift motion, exposing his thick diaper. The position left his diapered rear embarrassingly high and fully exposed. The class found it amusing. Ms. Robinson straightened, flipped her hair back, and began diligently examining his diaper. She patted the back critically. “I need to make sure you’re clean before I begin. I don’t want to make Nurse Anna’s job any harder if there are any surprises in there for her.” “Yeah, don’t wanna make a poop pancake in there!” Caleb shouted jeeringly, drawing a loud chorus of “Eeeewwww” from the rest of the class. Ms. Robinson pulled the back of his diaper out to peer inside. “Looks like that won’t be a problem. You’re still clean—surprisingly.” “Be thankful I’m keeping your diaper on, mister,” she said sternly, giving his bottom a final pat. “I don’t want to risk an accident while I spank you. I like to keep my floors dry.” She smoothed his diaper flat against his bottom, ensuring it was taught. Bradley squirmed in helpless anticipation beneath the firm pressure of her hand, still pinned across her desk. “Now, Bradley,” she continued, “let this be a lesson about interrupting my class with profanity.” Ms. Robinson raised the hairbrush high. Every eye in the room watched with bated breath. Bradley let out a tiny, terrified squeal. A flurry of swats rained down on his padded bottom with loud thud thud thuds. Ms. Robinson was putting all her strength into each one. She moved the hairbrush lower, targeting the part of the diaper where Bradley’s bottom peeked out. Thud thud thud. Ms. Robinson was starting to tire. Then she stopped. Bradley looked up, relieved. That wasn’t so bad, he thought. Ms. Robinson frowned, clearly unsatisfied. She studied him and could see he wasn’t learning his lesson—not with all that thick padding protecting him. An idea crossed her mind. She tugged at the leg openings of his diaper, then—catching Bradley completely by surprise, she gathered both of the leg openings of the diaper into one hand and yanked it upward with all her strength. For Bradley it was the world's most humiliating wedgie. The diaper pulled painfully tight between his cheeks and crushed against his sensitive bits in the front, forcing his little winky to point agonizingly in the wrong direction. Bradley squealed like a pig, much to the class’s delight. Both pale cheeks were now effectively bared. Cool air washed over his practically naked bottom, and a fresh wave of humiliation crashed over him as the class erupted in laughter again. “He’s wearing a diaper thong now!” shouted Hannah, setting off more stifled giggles. Bradley stammered, trying to protest, but he was too stunned to form real words. It just sounded like baby babble. Ms. Robinson waited for the noise to die down. “I clearly wasn’t getting the results I wanted with all that padding in the way, Bradley. This gives us the best of both worlds—I can actually punish you effectively, and you still get to keep your diaper on.” She raised the hairbrush again and resumed the flurry of swats.  SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT. Bradley’s composure shattered instantly. The swats were now landing with real sting. He felt the hard, burning impacts one after another. Soon any embarrassment faded into the background; all he could focus on was the mounting fire in his backside as he cried out with childish squeals. SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT. The swats felt like explosions of heat across his skin. Bradley squealed and squirmed. It hurts. It hurts, he thought. SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT. Emma turned to Anna. “The way he’s reacting, you’d think she’s killing him. It’s just a spanking.” SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT. Bradley tried desperately to hold it together. He didn’t want the class to see him crying like a baby. But they were roaring with laughter, loving every second. They had a perfect view of his reddening, squirming, diaper-wedgied bottom. SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT. The hairbrush was turning his cheeks as red as his face. The pain built relentlessly. Bradley couldn’t hold back any longer—he was crying like a baby, tears streaming down his cheeks. SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT. He twisted his head, looking through blurry eyes at the sea of laughing faces. SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT. “Awww, listen to him cry,” Jenna said sweetly. “He sounds like a baby, so precious.” “No, he sounds like a toddler throwing a tantrum,” Heather corrected. SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT. He couldn’t take it anymore. He twisted and squirmed harder against Ms. Robinson’s iron grip until he finally broke free. Shooting upright, tears streaming down his cheeks, Bradley launched into a frantic spanking dance—hopping desperately from foot to foot, both hands frantically rubbing his blazing bottom. “Please, no more! Please, no more! I’m sorry!” he sobbed, voice cracking. “Look at him hop!” Caleb jeered, grinning wide. “Dance, baby, dance!” Ms. Robinson’s hand shot out and seized his upper arm, yanking him around to face her.“Oh, we’re not even close to finished, young man,” she said, her voice low and unyielding. She planted her palm firmly between his shoulder blades and tried to bend him back over the desk, but he resisted. “Bend over that desk, Bradley,” she ordered, pointing the hairbrush at the waiting surface. He shook his head meekly, eyes wide and fearful. “Fine,” she said coldly. “I was going to let you keep your pride and spank you like a big boy but…”  She rolled her office chair to the front of the room, sat down, and continued, “since you can’t stay still…”  Without warning, she yanked him across her lap like a naughty toddler. “…I guess I’ll have to spank you like a little boy.” Katie laughed in her chair leaning over to address the class “This is how my mom prefers to spank him.” Ms. Robinson gave the wedgied diaper another firm, deliberate tug, yanking it upward firmly. Bradley squealed as the thick padding crushed even tighter against his sensitive bits. She pinned his arm securely behind his back with one hand, locking him in place across her lap, and resumed the spanking without the slightest pause. She raised the hairbrush and brought it down in a relentless flurry, targeting his sit spots and upper thighs with precise, overlapping swats. Each one landing harder than the last until his bottom turned a deep angry red. SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT. “His butt looks like a tomato!,” shouted airhead Chloe. SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT. His legs kicked wildly, as if he could shake the pain out. Please… let it be over, Bradley thought. SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT. “Look at those legs kick!” Caleb gleamed. “It’s like he’s running from his bedtime!” Caleb’s words stung the worst. Bradley hated him. He was the reason he was in this position. SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT. Bradley’s bottom was now a throbbing inferno. His babyish cries turned to broken, uncontrollable sobs. SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT. Then Ms. Robinson stopped. Bradley gasped for air, tears pouring, bottom blazing. Ms. Robinson looked him in the eye. “That,” she said slowly, letting him catch his breath, “was for disrupting my class.” Bradley let out a shaky sigh of relief. Thank goodness it’s over. “And this,” she continued in a stern voice, “is for using profanity in my class.” She unleashed another merciless flurry—rapid-fire now, and impossibly harder. The brush rained down faster and fiercer, searing every inch of his already-scorched red bottom and thighs. SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT. “He shouldn’t have been naughty,” Katie said, shaking her head. “My mom is not going to be happy when she hears about this.” SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT. Bradley howled, thrashing his legs. Each swat felt like a white-hot explosion that blended into one continuous agony. SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT. “His bottom is turning really red,” Ashley said, covering her mouth. “I bet he’s going to feel this all week.” Finally—mercifully—Ms. Robinson stopped. Bradley was sobbing uncontrollably, eyes red and puffy, nose dripping, tears streaming. It took him a moment to realize the spanking had ended. His bottom was still on fire. Ms. Robinson addressed him calmly. “Now let that be a lesson to you not to interrupt my class and to mind your language.” Bradley slid off her lap and crumpled to the floor, wheezing for breath. He knelt there, broken and trembling, both hands frantically rubbing his glowing, throbbing behind, as tears streamed down his cheeks. Suddenly, he became acutely aware of every eye in the room fixed on him—laughing, staring, judging. The embarrassment came back to him crashing with full force. His face burned as hot as his bottom. With a humiliated breath, he pushed himself upright on wobbly legs and started clawing desperately at the painful diaper wedgie. The thick padding remained stubbornly bunched between his cheeks, and his little winky—still painfully pointed the wrong direction. “What do you think you’re doing?” Ms. Robinson snapped sharply. Bradley looked up at her, confused and teary-eyed, his hands frozen on the “diaper thong”. She pointed the hairbrush toward the front corner beside the whiteboard. “I want you to go stand nose in the corner and think about why you were punished—until the end of class.” Bradley followed the gesture with wide, watery eyes. It was the absolute worst spot: smack in front of the entire class and perfectly framed in the open doorway for anyone walking by to see. He opened his mouth to protest, but the heavy wooden hairbrush—still clutched tightly in her hand—silenced him before a word could escape. Still quietly sobbing, nose dripping, eyes swollen and tear-streaked, he hung his head in utter defeat. With slow, awkward shuffles, he made his way to the corner, both hands desperately rubbing his throbbing, sore bottom. His shorts stayed hopelessly tangled around his ankles, hobbling each step, while the cruel “diaper thong” remained lodged deep between his bright-red, glowing cheeks—keeping them embarrassingly spread and on full, humiliating display. “Hands on your head,” Ms. Robinson barked. “I don’t need you fiddling with your diaper.” Bradley let out a shaky groan. He laced his fingers tightly behind his head and stood there, sobbing quietly with trembling shoulders. Soft murmurs and stifled giggles still rippled through the class behind him, every whisper a fresh reminder that dozens of eyes were locked on his glowing red bottom and the ridiculous “diaper thong.” Ms. Robinson rolled her chair back to her desk with a satisfied creak. “Well, with that taken care of, I can finally get back to teaching my class—uninterrupted.” She shot one last withering glare at Bradley’s exposed backside. “Now, where were we, class?” Bradley tuned them out, the lesson fading to a distant hum. His bottom throbbed with vicious, unrelenting heat. All he wanted to do was to rub it, to soothe the fire, but his hands stayed locked behind his head. He felt tiny, ridiculous, and utterly exposed. Then, without warning, a new, urgent pressure bloomed. His eyes went wide. All the breast milk from lunch had finally caught up with him. He needed to pee—badly. Even though he was wearing a diaper, he was terrified it would leak and run down his leg in front of everyone. He knew his little winky was still painfully pointed the wrong way inside his diaper, trapped and squeezed by the stupid, cruel diaper wedgie. He couldn’t risk taking his hands off his head to adjust it. He didn’t want another trip over Ms. Robinson’s knee. After just a couple of minutes of trying to hold it, it became unbearable. He was getting desperate, shifting from foot to foot, thighs pressed tight together. How much longer? he thought frantically. He tried to sneak a glance at the clock without moving his head too much, but he couldn’t see it clearly facing the wall. Then, unable to resist, he twisted his body just enough to peek over his shoulder. The clock showed class had only been going for about twenty minutes. Forty more more to go. Bradley groaned. Ms. Robinson caught the movement. “Bradley,” she said sharply. “I said nose in the corner.” She marched over, her heels clicking ominously. Without a word, she grabbed his wrists, pulled his hands down from his head, and folded his arms behind his back. Then she pressed his nose firmly deep into the corner until all he could see was blank white wall. “I better not catch that nose out of the corner again mister,” she warned, her voice low and final, “or I’ll put you right back across my knee.” The class burst into fresh laughter at the threat. The position Ms Robinson put him in forced him to bend forward. This pushed his bright-red, diaper wedgied bottom out even more prominently, giving everyone an even better view of his punished bottom. Corner time always felt eternal—Michelle used it on him at home, and it was always torture. A couple of minutes later, Bradley was shifting uncontrollably in his corner. The urge had grown urgent and insistent. All that breast milk from Michelle was hitting him hard—he really needed to pee badly. He squirmed, thighs pressed tightly together, legs twisting, hips rocking as he fought to hold it in. A few classmates noticed. “Awww, he’s dancing for us,” Emma cooed sweetly. “He looks so cute!” “More like he’s doing the potty dance,” Heather corrected with a smirk. Then it happened. A hot, unstoppable torrent of pee burst free, flooding rapidly through the wedgied diaper. A distinct yellow tinge bloomed across the back of his diaper, spreading visibly. Then, to Bradley's absolute horror, it leaked. Warm streams escaped the leg cuffs, racing down his inner thighs in humiliating trails, soaking his shorts and dripping steadily onto the floor. A puddle was now spreading beneath him.   “Ewww, Ms. Robinson!” Ashley pointed, horrified and disgusted. “Bradley’s wetting his diaper—and it’s leaking everywhere!” Ms. Robinson snapped her head frustration flashing across her face.  “I thought I was done with your disruptions, Bradley?!” She marched over, heels clicking sharply, she yanked him out of the corner to inspect the damage. She put her hand near the leg opening of his diaper, then pulled it back in disgust when she found it wet and leaking.   “You flooded it,” she said disgusted. Her gaze dropped to the spreading puddle beneath him. “Well there goes my hope for keeping my floors dry.” Bradley looked up at her with pleading eyes, desperate she'd show him mercy and send him to nurse Anna. She studied the mess for a long moment, then looked at the clock. Her expression turned cold. “You still have 35 minutes left, Bradley,” she said evenly. “I’ll take care of you when your corner time is over.” With that she spun him around and gently guided his noise back into the corner. Bradley broke into full, babyish, hiccupping sobs. He desperately wanted to be changed. He couldn’t bear another second in the corner—standing there in his warm, sodden diaper, the soggy fabric of his shorts and socks clinging uncomfortably to his skin. Every small shift of his feet sent a wet splash through the puddle of his own pee pooling beneath him. Humiliated, he was left there facing the wall, red bottom on display to the class, nose deep in the corner, to think about exactly what he’d done to end up like this.         @Pierry Louys  @djembe@wetdiaper55@DannyDoo @007specialk @butters11 @dyperaby @Frostybaby@chrisie @starman @sklawlor@Wittlebabiboi   This one took me a while. By far my longest chapter. Tied for my favorite chapter.  I hope you all enjoy it. Let me know how you think it will end?

I sleep in a nappy and plastic cover whenever I am away from home. Usually once or twice a week