Wednesday, August 10, 2011

Laura & Holly - Chapter 4

I wasn't about to do that if I could help it. Had I not just been stripped, shaved, and shoved into a corner, I might have assumed it was just an empty threat, that she wouldn't dare do something like that, beyond the pair of swats I'd gotten outside, talking to Holly. Now I wasn't so sure... Though thinking about it reminded me that Holly was surely still sitting out in the car, in front of the house. If I could just get the woman to look, surely she'd realize how suspicious that was!

Of course, if I said anything about it right then, I'd be risking her wrath, which I had a feeling I'd have to suffer through before she even thought about hearing me out. That thought only made me feel more helpless, which served to make me all the more angry at this situation. I was a grown woman... I shouldn't be standing with my nose in a corner, fearing a bottom warming like some naughty toddler! And the fact that I was too scared to do anything about it fueled my rage and sense of childishness all the more.

I'm sure that had something to do with how long my time there felt. I'd never really thought about why a time-out would be an effective punishment, since I don't have kids, nor do I have any siblings, so I didn't have any nieces or nephews, and no reason to think about it. I could halfway remember being told that I was supposed to think about what I'd done as I stood there, back when I really was young enough for the punishment to be appropriate. Since I hadn't done anything wrong this time, however, I was left with nothing to do but fume about that, which got boring very quickly.

As I fidgeted there, mind trying to come up with ways to keep itself entertained, I began feeling more self-conscious about my nudity. It had happened so quickly, I'd hardly had time to comprehend it before, beyond a weak attempt at fighting it, but I could feel my cheeks turning a fresh shade of red as I contemplated when the last time I'd let another woman see me naked had been. It must have been high school, in the showers, and even then I'd done all I could to avoid it. I always felt quite inferior to the other girls, and, as much as I told myself I'd fill out in time, it that did little to help. Even when I'd shared a dorm room in college, until I managed to get into a single, I was always careful about when I got dressed and undressed, and waited until late at night to take showers. I knew it was silly, but it made me feel just a little better.

Looking down at myself then, squirming in boredom, reminded me that I never really had done much filling out. The body I saw could easily belong to a highschooler, maybe even a middle schooler. The removal of my pubic hair only made it more obvious, and the ease with which it had been done only darkened my spirits further.One flick of the razor, and I'd been sent back to my early teens, as if living through that once wasn't bad enough.

I tried to turn my thoughts away from that, but the only other place they seemed interested in going was back to the threat of a spanking. Even if I had been Holly's age, it would be a ridiculous, degrading punishment. Since I wasn't, that made it all the worse. The very idea of this woman pulling me over her knee, still naked, still wriggling, though no longer from the tedium of staring at the same bit of wall, but rather from fear and anticipation, waiting for the first strike, wincing, trying to prepare myself... It was enough to make my rethink my stance on spanking in general, which I supported only because of the rather annoying kids that always found their way to our mall re-openings that I was sure could use it.

Just when I was sure I couldn't take any more standing around, the woman finally said, "All right, that's enough." Relieved, but newly bashful, I turned, trying to cover myself as much as I possibly could. "L-Look out the window!" I blurted out, hardly able to believe I'd managed to wait so long to say it. "My car is still out there!"

The woman gave me a cold glare that told me all I needed to know, though it didn't stop her from adding, "Do you need to turn back around? I know you can't see the window from there, and I'm sure you know telling stories is not something a good girl does," to it. My anger and frustration at my situation, and at her, melted away when I got another look at her, with any that managed to survive being done in by her words, and, more importantly, her tone. It was clear she didn't see me as an equal, or an adult in any way. In her eyes, I was a little kid, and a real nuisance at that.

"Now, come on," she ordered, getting up from the sofa and holding out her hand. "We're going to get you ready for bed."

"Bed?!" I protested, eyes widening slightly. "But it's..." I glanced around the room, searching for a clock, and feeling a little horrified at what it showed. Less than an hour ago, I'd been walking through my mall, showing it off proudly... It had felt as if I'd spent at least that much time just in time-out. "It's not even nine," I finished, hardly able to believe it myself.

"I told you I was putting you to bed early," she reminded me. "I would have liked to have gotten you tucked in even earlier, but you were out doing God knows what past the time bad little girls usually go night-night." I paled a little at that, the idea of being made to go to bed at eight in the evening. I'm not sure if she noticed or not before adding, "Because of that, I think you'll have an early bedtime tomorrow, too. Which means that if you get in trouble, I'll be moving straight to a more severe punishment."

While I stood there, stunned, she sighed and walked over to me, taking my hand and guiding me through the house, up a staircase and to another bathroom, though this time, at least, she didn't join me. "I'd better not hear this door open before I come to get you," she threatened before pulling it closed.

I sat on the toilet, eager to relieve my aching bladder as I anxiously wondered how I was going to get out of this mess. I felt like crying, and a few tears even began to slide down my cheeks, but I forced myself to stop. That wouldn't help at all. I had to get the woman to listen to me. All it would take is one little look out the window, but she was so sure I was a manipulative brat that she refused to listen to me.

Then I brightened, just a little. She didn't have to listen to me... It wasn't ideal, but if I just made it through the night, surely tomorrow she'd go outside at some point and see my car still there, see that I was telling the truth after all. Without my keys, Holly couldn't take it anywhere, so, other than to preserve my dignity - and it was too late for that anyway - there was no real rush, no need to freak out. It would work itself out if I just gave it some time.

The door opened as I considered that, making me blush and hurry to block the sight of my body from her prying eyes. She hardly even noticed. "Did you brush your teeth already?" she demanded. I hadn't, but I nodded anyway, the idea of using someone else's toothbrush outweighing my desire to maintain my dental hygiene. "Really? Give me a big smile." My cheeks flushed a little darker as I bared my teeth at her, hoping they'd pass her inspection.

"Well, if you did, you did a very bad job of it," she said. "Get up off of there and do it properly, or I'll do it for you."

I swallowed a moan as I hopped down from the toilet and walked over to the sink, feeling her watching me like a hawk, reminding myself this would all be over tomorrow, if I could just stick it out until then. Obviously, I couldn't brush my teeth and keep myself covered, so I sacrificed the hand hovering near my crotch to reach up and grab the toothbrush sitting in the holder at the corner of the sink. While she'd seen all of me already, I reasoned that she'd seen that part of me more.

I reached up and pulled open the medicine cabinet behind the mirror, fumbling through it to find the toothpaste, awkwardly squeezing some onto the toothbrush. I could tell she was getting impatient with me - from the corner of my eye, I saw her arms folding in front of her chest, and while I didn't dare look up, I could practically feel her glare trying to bore its way through my skull. When the toothbrush fell over and I began to rinse it off, she'd had enough.

"Do it properly," she ordered. When it was obvious I wasn't sure what she meant, she clarified, "Use both hands. You don't have anything I haven't seen before, young lady. So stop stalling and just brush your teeth, now."

Remembering, and believing, her threat to do it for me, I reluctantly moved my hand away from my chest and began to use it. It made things much easier, though I felt rather awkward staring at my naked form in the mirror as I brushed, which encouraged me to stop sooner than I normally would have, which earned me a throat clearing from her. I barely managed to hold back a sigh as I returned the brush to my mouth and kept going, waiting until she gave me a nod to stop that time.

It was still hard for me to comprehend the idea that I was about to go to bed, right around the time I'd normally pop in a movie, or start channel surfing. Still, I told myself as I rinsed the excess toothpaste from my mouth, that meant the worst of this was over. Hell, she might even see my car before I woke up, so that, by the time I did, she'd have my own clothes and an apology waiting for me.

For the time being, though, she grabbed my hand once I put the brush back in its holder and took me across the hall, to, presumably, Holly's room, though once I was actually inside, it was hard to imagine it belonging to anyone over the age of four. It was like walking into a batch of cotton candy - everything was pink, and a rather obnoxious shade of it, too, from the desk and chair, to the dresser, to the canopy bed, which had pink cloth draped along either side and stuffed animals at the foot. A set of shelves sat along one wall, but rather than books, it held a collection of porcelain dolls, the kind that had always given me the creeps. A bay window jutted from the outside wall, with a padded seat that was also covered in plush toys. Did Holly really live here?! I couldn't imagine the cool, confident young woman I knew waking up to this every day. Maybe it was a spare room, or maybe the woman had decorated it this way while Holly was out.

As I marveled at the place I was going to spend the night, the woman was walking to the bed and grabbing a pair of panties that was laid out there, alongside some other pieces of clothing. She bent down in front of me, holding them out. "Step in," she told me.

I hesitated, considered telling her that I was capable of dressing myself, then reminded myself of my inevitable forthcoming freedom. What would it hurt to let her dress me? At least I wouldn't be naked anymore. Carefully, I lifted a foot and slid it through the leghole of the panties, then repeated with the other. She did the rest of the work, tugging them up my legs and letting them snap over my bottom. They were full, much bigger than I was used to, and thicker, too.

While I tried to get used to them, she grabbed something else from the bed and gathered it up near my feet. Not really thinking about it, I stepped in, having second thoughts only when I actually looked at them and realized they weren't pajama pants, or even shorts. I wasn't sure what they were - bloomers, maybe, except that they were clear, and not made of cloth. They crinkled lightly as she pulled them up my legs, like plastic or something, though that didn't make any sense. They fit strangely, too. The actual material was loose and baggy, completely engulfing the underwear below and then some, but the legholes were tight, almost uncomfortably so. I could feel them digging into my thighs once they were all the way up. The waist wasn't as bad at first, at least until she turned me around and tugged on something there. I heard a quiet clicking noise, and then I was spun again to face her.

"That should do it..." she mused as she stared at me, reaching forward and tugging at the waist. It came out a little, though not much - certainly not enough to be able to pull them off, as I could already tell I would want to. Even in the air conditioned room, they were hot, and I was sure I had started sweating down there as soon as they were in place. "Since you were being a very naughty girl," she said, "I have to make sure you don't try to play with yourself while you're in bed. Those panties are meant for bedwetters, but they ought to work for this, too... If they get wet, they send a signal to an alarm, which I will be keeping in my room. So don't try anything, got it, missy?"

I had hoped the question was rhetorical, as I couldn't even imagine trying to masturbate with her in the house, especially not while in this room, but her look told me it wasn't, so I gave her a red-cheeked, "I got it."

"Good," she nodded, grabbing a pink, of course, nightshirt from the bed. "Lift your arms." When I did, and she tugged the shirt over my body, I was unhappy to find that it just barely covered the inner panties. The legs of the outer pair stuck out from it, just slightly. Still, it wasn't as if it really mattered, considering I was only going to be sleeping in it, so I kept quiet, which seemed to please her. "Now, into bed," she said as she folded the covers back. I obeyed, sliding into the soft sheets and letting her pull them back over me, tucking me in, like I hadn't been for many, many years. "I left you a glass of water on your desk," she told me, "but only drink it if you're very thirsty, because those plastic pants aren't coming off until tomorrow morning."

The thought that they indeed were plastic pants, like a baby would wear, and that the clicking I'd heard was them being locked on, which I confirmed as soon as she was gone by trying to pull them free, to no avail, made it harder than ever to just play my part and wait this out. I answered her goodnight with a strained one of my own, then watched as she walked away, flipping on a nightlight as she went. She closed the door gently behind her. For a moment, I felt grateful for the solitude; then I heard another soft clicking noise, this one coming from the door, giving me a bad feeling that it was locked, putting any thought of trying to leave as firmly out of my reach as my panties.

1 comment:

  1. Hi Princess Potty pants. Although I have never commented on your stories before, I have read all of them. You are a very good writer as well as role player.