Trading Post

Emma is back in class and is trying very hard to catch up to people despite distractions. It doesn't go so well. ---  I'm only able to write as much as I do thanks to the amazing support of my readers. Writing is my only income and I appreciate everyone who reads my stories more than you all can imagine. If you enjoy my stories and want to see updates a week before everyone else PLUS read 35+ stories only available on my membership sites please have a look at the links below. All support is very gratefully accepted ❤️ https://reamstories.com/elfy https://subscribestar.adult/elfy --- “Are you upset?” Zoe asked. “I’m not.” I replied. It was a lie. “You seem upset.” Zoe said with a shrug. I chewed on the pacifier bulb in my mouth. I was copying down some sums that Mr. Smith was writing on the board at the front of the room. It was very basic math, easy and repetitive. It meant my friends had more time to think about other things and, apparently, they were using that spare capacity to think about me. “You do seem angry.” Nicole added. I squeezed my pencil in my hand so hard that I was surprised that it didn’t snap. Was there anything that was designed to make you get angry than people saying these things to you? I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. As I shifted in my seat I winced, the bruising on my backside would take days to disappear completely. I was trying to concentrate on my writing. I had a hard enough time trying to have legible handwriting without all these distractions. The worst part was that my friends were obviously right. I was angry. Everyone in my situation would be. Ever since the phone call from Zoe the night before I had barely been able to think about anything else. On the bus to school, I avoided her completely. Unfortunately, I couldn’t stay away from Zoe and Nicole forever and now they wanted to know why I was so moody. “Can you both just shut up?” I hissed as I took my pacifier out quickly, “I’m trying to concentrate.” “I’m already done.” Nicole shrugged, “Do you want some help?” “No!” I said a little too loudly. “Emma, is there something you want to share with the class?” Mr. Smith asked. “No, sir.” I replied as I put my soother back in, “Sorry.” In truth there was a lot I wanted to shout about to get it all off my chest. I wanted to scream about how unfair my life was, how I wanted to be more coordinated like Nicole, how my brother was an asshole and that my supposed “friend”, Zoe, was a traitor! I froze up a bit and frowned. What was I thinking? Zoe wasn’t a traitor. She was just going to a dance with a guy. I’d made it very clear over the years how I never wanted to date any man. And that was still true… wasn’t it? Of course it was, all men were pigs, I didn’t want anything to do with any of them no matter how nice Jacob acted towards me. I went back to my work and tried to stop thinking so hard about everything. I tried to concentrate as much as possible on my numbers and making them fully formed and understandable. The teacher was droning on about times tables and I tried to listen. “You’ve been acting weird all morning.” Zoe whispered. “I’m fine.” I replied quickly. Zoe just wouldn’t let it go. “Is it because of the phone call?” Zoe asked. “Phone call?” Nicole asked. “Yeah, I called Emma to tell her I was going to the prom with Jacob.” Zoe replied. I was so tense I thought a blood vessel would burst. I so desperately wished that none of this was having an effect on me. Couldn’t they see that it didn’t bother me at all that the one nice guy I’d ever met was going to the dance with my best friend? I just wished they would stop talking about it. I tried to focus on what Mr. Smith was saying about multiplication, but my ears were trained on my friends’ conversation. “Oh, Jacob?” Nicole said, “Do you like him too, Emma?” “Will you both ju-…” I started loudly. “Emma!” Mr. Smith called out, “Since you have so much to say perhaps you could answer the question.” All heads turned towards me, and I shifted awkwardly in my wet diaper. I hadn’t been paying attention; I had no idea what the question was yet alone the answer. I looked around at the board hoping for a clue but could see nothing which hinted at what I should say. Out of the corner of my I looked towards Nicole; I nudged her with my foot under the table, but she wasn’t saying anything. “Any time today.” Mr. Smith said impatiently. “Erm…” I had no choice. I was just going to have to guess and hoped I was the luckiest person in the world, “Seven?” “Seven?” Mr. Smith repeated with a frown. I heard some titters of laughter and felt my face flushing. It was excruciating. I cursed the other pupils, if they had been sitting with their friends nattering in their ears about inane crap, they wouldn’t know what to say either. She gave an awkward half-shrug towards the teacher. “For someone who is apparently desperate to join the boys’ classes you really don’t help yourself.” Mr. Smith shook his head, “Try listening, OK?” “I was listening, it’s just I-…” My words were cut off. “Someone else’s fault?” Mr. Smith asked. His smirk was making me angry, “Emma, if you don’t take responsibility for your actions, you’re never going to amount to much.” “You mean like teaching for a decade and still relegated to the girl’s classes?” I had spoken before I had engaged my brain. No sooner had the words left my mouth than I was clamping my hand over my pacifier, pushing it into my lips in the hope it would stop me talking. Every student in the school knew it was a sore point for the teacher. He had never bothered to hide how much he thought teaching girls was a waste of time. The rather smug smile he had at telling me off vanished to be replaced with an altogether darker expression. “In the corner.” Mr. Smith said as he pointed to a space near the door, “Now!” I actually counted myself lucky my punishment for speaking out like that was just corner time. I didn’t argue as I stood up and awkwardly waddled to the front of the class. All eyes were on me and as I walked past the teacher’s desk Mr. Smith leaned down to give my padded butt one quick swat. He put his other hand on my shoulder, stopping me. “One more word out of you…” Mr. Smith growled warningly, “And you can forget about graduating. I’ll hold you back a year. Understood?” My blood chilled in my veins. That was no empty threat. It was a lot easier to hold girls back than boys and Mr. Smith could easily have recommended such a move. I nodded my head quickly and pushed my pacifier between my lips again, it had dropped out when I had tried to answer him. His hand pointed to the naughty corner, and I scurried towards it, banging my hip on the corner of the teacher’s desk in my hurry. It was still early in the day as I sat down on the stool facing the corner just inches away from me. I looked up slightly to see the big sign proclaiming it to be the “Naughty Corner” and felt a fresh shade of red descend on to my face. I was entirely visible to every eye in the classroom, I was sure everyone was looking at my back. My diaper suddenly felt twice as big and I imagined it bulging out dramatically. “Right, let’s get back to the lesson.” Mr. Smith said to the class. I sighed and leaned forwards, so my head rested against the corner. There was nothing to do or distract myself with here. The two walls were a pristine white and joined together with nothing to distinguish them. There was nothing to focus my mind on except for my frustration and humiliation. It wasn’t the first time I had been sent to the corner. I knew how time started playing tricks on you, how it felt like hours had passed when in reality the clock had barely ticked a few minutes. Lunch was a long way off and I expected that was the minimum amount of time I was going to spend on the stool. I sighed. I wanted to tear the world apart. At morning break I heard all the other girl’s crinkling past me on their way outside. I remained seated and hoped I would be allowed to join them, but Mr. Smith sat down at his desk and started doing some marking. Part of me wondered if he knew I was still there. I adjusted in my seat causing crinkles to echo around the silent room, there was no doubt the teacher heard me, but he didn’t say anything, he just cleared his throat and kept marking. The problem was that although time felt like it had frozen for me in the corner my bodily functions definitely hadn’t. I had wet my diaper several times in the course of the morning. The only attention I had gotten from Mr. Smith was when he would bring over fresh bottles for me to drink. There was now several of them by my feet. The point was my diaper was very wet. Normally I would’ve asked to visit the nurse or, if it was break, take myself that way, but I had been told not to make a sound. I couldn’t risk being held back and having to repeat the whole year. Soon the bell rang, and the girls started coming back in. I felt so humiliated in the corner that my eyes were filled with tears. A fresh blossoming of warm urine in my baby pants was pushing the padding to my limit. My legs shook a little as Mr. Smith went back to teaching. He hadn’t even checked me. I always felt anxious when I was very wet, it was turned up to eleven in my current situation. I had occasionally been in the living room when my dad or brother were watching films that I technically shouldn’t have been allowed to. I had seen some films set during wars or in prisons, I had seen the main characters get sent to solitary where they would start losing their minds after so long in the dark and quiet. I started to envy those characters. At least their solitary granted them some privacy. I was stuck with the whole class looking my way, I would’ve welcomed a dark and quiet room at that point. I tried to listen to Mr. Smith droning on about math but without being able to write things down or see any visual aids I quickly became lost. It just raised my anxiety even more, to the point where I was finding it hard to stay still. My diaper was so horribly uncomfortable, and it was disgusting to be so in need of a change. The hours passed by slowly and my diaper became a ticking timebomb. I could feel how soaked it was, from the front to the back the padding had swollen up underneath my childish outfit. At any moment my bladder might give way again and when it did, I had little doubt the diaper would too. Eventually, losing my nerve in the game of chicken with my soaked underwear, I raised my hand to try and get Mr. Smith’s attention. He didn’t come over or say anything. I hoped that one of students would bring his attention to me, but they didn’t say anything either. Traitors, I thought to myself. If any of them were struggling, I would’ve tried to help… probably. I knew lunch must be getting close because my tummy had started rumbling. I had just started wondering if I would be released from my sentence to go and have lunch when disaster struck. I started wetting myself, but the diaper immediately gave way. I could feel the urine collecting on the stool beneath me and running down my legs, a hot streak that quickly cooled. I froze in horror as my bladder continued to empty without any conscious effort on my part. The rest of the class was silent, working on some sums, tears filled my eyes. I tried to stop my bladder, to clench down and stem the flow, since the diaper seemed to have zero absorbency remaining. I might as well have not bothered, I couldn’t do a thing to stop the flow. I sobbed lightly, still not sure whether I could move but feeling more ashamed and humiliated than ever in my life before. Drip. Drip. Drip. I closed my eyes and then covered my blushing face. In the quiet classroom where the only sound was the occasional crinkle from a classmate the liquid now running over the side of the stool was loud, at least to my ears. I moved slightly and the dripping became a temporary stream from the displaced pee. This was a disaster, and I felt frozen, I didn’t know what to do. “Erm, Mr. Smith?” I heard a voice near me speak up. “Yes, Olivia?” Mr. Smith replied. “Sir, I think Emma needs to go to the nurse…” Olivia said. There was a slight pause and then I heard Mr. Smith walking rapidly towards me. For a second, I thought he’d lost his mind, and he was just going to start swinging. I tensed up in preparation but instead only felt his hand on the scruff of my onesie as he pulled me backwards off the stool and to my feet. “Oh, for goodness… Why didn’t you say you needed the nurse!?” Mr. Smith shouted. Now that I was standing it felt like the leak was worse. The whole bottom of my onesie felt sodden, and the now cold urine streaked down my legs on to the thankfully hardwood floor. I was looking at the ground and sobbing. Yet again I could feel everyone staring at my latest humiliation. I had never felt further away from my goal of getting out of that damn class. “Y-You… You said… not to… speak.” I haltingly explained between sobs. “Obviously I meant not to speak out of turn.” Mr. Smith said with annoyance, “I didn’t want you to make a mess of my classroom!” I suddenly felt very stupid. I should’ve known better but the threat of being held back a year was too great to take the risk of talking. Now, however, I had made things much worse for myself. The puddle around my feet was still growing. “Go to the nurse and sort yourself out.” Mr. Smith said crossly, “And tell reception we need the janitor.” ---  If you want to see what happens next RIGHT NOW you can do so at one of the following links. Thank you, and all support is very gratefully received: https://reamstories.com/page/lpjgftb4y2/story/mobgtuaba5be79/chapter/mqjoqqor3e945e8 https://subscribestar.adult/posts/2545719

I don't have a straight, 9 to 5 job anymore. I do contract work. So diaper wearing is purely for fun when I have the house to myself.

We have special weather events for European tourists here in Kansas. Come over & see one. You'll love it!

I agree with him not seeing Paul, but I think your right he needs to eat a big ol humble pie and start being a better person. 

At the moment I'm in a soft wet overnight cloth diaper that I'll change before taking my 8 hour nap soon. Agu! Nya! Nya!