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Chapter 19 - History Class 

Caitlyn had cuffed you to her wrist with her toy pair of handcuffs since they obviously wouldn’t let her have the real thing. Nonetheless, she dragged you waddling and stumbling to keep up in your clunky schoolgirl flats and thick diaper. She yanks you to a halt in front of a classroom door giggling before making you practice your numbers and recite the numbers on the door behind your pacifier. 

“Good girl!” She patronizingly praises. “Now, you made it just in time to hear Mr. Lambert’s history class. I’ll be back to pick you up and take you to your next period since you silly little baby can’t be trusted.”

She knocks obnoxiously before opening the door with a grandiose flourish, brandishing the key to your cuff to unlock it just like a sheriff from the old west.

“Mr. Lambert your newest student, Y/N, got lost! But not to worry your friendly neighborhood hall monitor brought her back safely. She had a really stinky diaper that needed changing.”

Mr. Lambert looks up from the textbook he was lecturing from in his hand, he was leaned casually against his front desk. He gives you and your tormentor both a calm pointed look over his reading glasses before removing them slowly.

“Thank you, Caitlyn, but that does not give you permission to interrupt my class. Do you need to see me after to discuss why?”

“N-No Mr. Lambert. I’m sorry for interrupting.” The hall monitor simpers and obviously had a few other enemies amongst the students in the class who giggle quietly to each other and exchanged looks. 

“Girls, girls...settle down.” He lightly taps his ruler making the class go silent with a fearful hush. “Thank you Caitlyn you are dismissed. Ms. Y/N please take a seat and open to Chapter 3. Are you aware of what it was that changed your kind’s status in society? Why you all mostly need to wear diapers and have constant care? Yes, that’s what I thought. That’s why you shouldn’t be late for class.” 

You sit silently, slightly lifted off the hard desk chair from the bulk of your diaper and open dutifully to Chapter 3. That’s when you see it. The picture of that day.

*

Electricity crackles in the air, everyone’s hairs stand on end with the visceral fear of an impending lightning strike. It was incessant and unbearable some spectators’ bladders simply released adding to the strange odors of mostly ozone and burning choking down everyone’s throats. 

The sky was blue, but a blue that no one had ever seen before electric, cobalt, like the blue of a poisonous frog or the ring on a deadly octopus. Many fell to their knees thinking this was the end. The more cynical and less devote popped bottles for a final toast, others panicked and looted, but it turns out it wasn’t the end days. It was a storm, and like all storms it passed. Life continued, but the power was awakened.

*

“Y/N, are you paying attention?”

You’re startled back to the present, the classroom, the metal meshed windows of the reformatory, your soother sucked a little too hard so it let drool freely dribbling down your chin.

“We’re waiting, little lady. Can you answer?” 

You’re not even able to guess so you give your head a little shake no. Your classmates shift in sympathy, their own diapers and potty training pants creating a soft symphony of rustles.

“Front and center.” Mr. Lambert orders strangely quiet and gentle with his command, pointing to the floor in front of him, his foot taping. You rise from your desk, heart thrumming with fear of what this could mean. 

“No-no.” He corrects you. “What do little babies who can’t even pay attention in class do?”

After a moment of hesitation you lower down onto your hands and knees and crawl to him. Mr. Lambert reaches into his desk drawer to pull out a little bottle to give it a shake. 

“I know just the thing to keep you from your immature daydreaming. Your naughty hiney needs some seasoning.” 

Kneeled at his feet, you feel the stretchy waistband of your diaper tugged back, and hear the bottle shaking, you feel little flakes fall inside. It was coarser then powder and smelled like a some sort of spice...Hot! A whine keens through your pacifier as the intense burn begins. You cringe forward presenting your bulky bottom up towards your teacher as you double over from the painful searing discomfort. 

“That’s right babygirl, I see your diaper’s very clean.” He rests his hand on the bulk of your diaper to tap and you nearly squeal. “Back to your desk now.” 

Panting and sweating you somehow manage to make it back, book picked up again, propped and shuddering in your hands as you frantically try to think of ways to make the burn stop! Dunking a bottle of milk? Would soaking your diaper intentionally for the second time today make it better or worse?! You suffer and shake and squirm waiting desperately for the bell to ring.

 

Note: just having fun with this as always~ I have an idea growing for the next part, let me know of anything you’d like to see 

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I enjoyed the new chapter. I can’t imagine how much that has to hurt. I have experienced both mace and OC pepper spray and know that heat causes the pours to open up allowing more of the pepper to get into you causing more pain. A hot wet diaper would make it unbearable. 

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