Those words were enough to empty my bladder, though, luckily - or not so much, considering that it had gotten me caught - there wasn't much left inside. I sniffled, squirming in place, the tights keeping the moisture against my legs, reminding me of what I'd done. And, even worse, what was about to happen.
"Please, no," I shook my head, not moving from my spot in front of his door. "If I go to the principal's office, something bad is gonna happen!"
"Then please explain to me what you were doing in my locked classroom, and maybe we'll only have to make one stop," he offered. That was even worse, but I couldn't tell him about the consequences of either action. I had a hard time accepting them in my mind - I simply couldn't say them out loud, and certainly not to him. His voice hardened a little as he added, "But if you don't get moving, I think we'll have to go both places anyway. Come on, we don't have all day."
"You don't understand!" I told him, stomping my foot, tears running down my cheeks.
"Then make me understand," he said, tone gentle again. "I don't want to get anyone in trouble if they don't need to be, but I can't just let you kids run amok, either."
That got a fresh sob from me. I knew he had to see me as a student, but actually hearing him confirm it by calling me a kid was even worse than I'd imagined. Then again, wouldn't him knowing the truth be even worse? I didn't want to be a teenager again, but wasn't that better than being an adult dressed like one, pushed around by them, and in wet underwear that was about to be replaced with a diaper? I really had fallen quite far, hadn't I?
"Come on," he said again, reaching out and taking my hand, guiding me through the halls as I cried, too upset to even think about who must be seeing me. There wasn't much I could do about it anyway, so there wasn't much point in worrying, though I can't say I was actually thinking that at the time.
Before I knew it, we were stopping. "I didn't hear any explanation," the teacher said quietly. "I can tell you feel bad, but I think you're going to have to see the principal after all, won't you?"
"Nooo," I wailed, glancing over to see that I was back at the nurse's office. My stomach churned as I thought about what lay in store for me there, gaining speed when I looked up at the teacher. If I'd ever have had a chance with him before, I knew it was about to vanish when I came back out of that door in a diaper. Even if he somehow didn't notice, just the idea that he was the one who had brought me here, even without knowledge of what would happen, would be enough to kill it for me.
"I'm afraid so," he shook his head, reaching over to knock on the door. I wanted to stop him, but I was frozen in place, unable to do anything but watch his hand move, listen to the dull thump of it against the wooden door, echoing once, twice, three times. What could I have done, anyway? I had nothing to offer him - well, except for my body, I guess, but there was no way he'd risk so much as saying he'd take me up on that, even if he wanted to, not in public like this.
"That didn't take long," the nurse said as she opened the door, looking down at me, not a hint of surprise in her voice. She took my hand, as the teacher dropped the other, and pulled me inside her office, crying even harder than before.
The first thing she did was remove my dress, examining it briefly before draping it over a chair. "At least you didn't get that wet," she observed, more to herself than me, as she walked to her desk and picked up her phone. She squinted at a piece of paper as she dialed in the numbers written on it, as I squirmed uncertainly in front of her, hands trying to hide the view of my accident. Even without the dress, I was basically wearing a full outfit, yet somehow I still felt far more exposed without it.
"Yes, I'm calling from school," the nurse said into her phone, "as per my instructions. I'm just letting you know that Ms. Holly Prescott is about to go into a diaper. Oh, yes, quite a big accident, I'm afraid. Yes, I can hold her wet things in my office for you. Yes, I can do that, too. You're welcome."
All my years of experience, all of my adult life, meant nothing in that moment as I stood there, panties wet, cheeks burning, bawling as my mommy was called and told about what I'd done. I didn't even feel like the 18 year old the nanny thought I was, or the 14 year old I was being treated as that day. If anything, I felt closer to a four year old, but even that age was falling fast as the nurse got out the diaper again.
"Please don't do this," I begged pitifully, watching the nurse pull the paper cover over her examination table. "You can't..."
"It's my job," she informed me. "And it would be a big help if you'd get yourself undressed."
Instead, I swallowed the lump forming in my throat and blurted out what I probably should have said much earlier. "I'm not Holly Prescott." That barely registered a response, but I kept going anyway. "My name is Laura Jenkins. There was a... a big mix-up, and... Well, I'm not Holly, okay? That's the important part."
Just the act of saying my real name straightened my spine slightly, reminded me of what I already knew, but, in the midst of all this, had been almost forgetting. Unfortunately, that little burst of pride was quickly undercut as the nurse picked me up, set me on the table, and set to work undressing me, starting with my shoes. "It's true," I told her. "Just call over to the mall, and they'll tell you I didn't come in today. I'm in charge of that project..."
She dropped my shoes to the floor and reached for the waistband of my shorts. "No!" I grabbed at the garment myself, resulting in a brief tug-of-war before I got my hand slapped away. "I am an adult! You have no right to do this!"
Of course, she had to yank my shorts down as I was saying it, leaving only the thick - yet still translucent enough for me to see the outline of the childish panties beneath - tights on my legs. My fingers clamped around them as I tried to think of what else I could say to convince her, if she was even listening. Her lack of a reaction was shaking my confidence, which was already growing weaker as I thought about how silly it must sound, how desperate. But I was desperate.
The woman sighed and stopped, giving me a moment of relief. Maybe she didn't buy the whole story yet, but even a hint of doubt would be enough. I'd just have to figure out how to convince her from there. It was a start, at least.
"I have instructions," she said, "to report to your caretaker on how you behaved during this change. Somehow, I don't think she'll like hearing that you fought me on every piece of clothing I had to take off you. Do you?"
I stared up at her, bottom lip quivering, then sighed and let go of the tights, letting her peel them off of me before moving on to my panties. My hands started to move towards them automatically when I saw her starting to remove them, but I forced myself to stop. As soon as they were gone, however, the cold air rushing over my wet, exposed body parts, and I regretted it. I was just moments away from the diaper now, I knew.
"I'm an adult," I repeated weakly, shivering as she ran a cold, wet washcloth over my lower half. "My name is Laura Jenkins. I don't belong here... This shouldn't be happening to me..."
She lifted me back down from the table, but my optimism about what that meant lasted only until she discarded the damp paper cover I'd been sitting on and replaced it with a new one, spreading the diaper out on top of that. Even when I knew she wasn't convinced, I couldn't do anything about it... I wasn't about to run out the door in just a vest, especially not with the teacher out there.
Staring up at the diaper on the examination table while the nurse gathered supplies from her drawers, I couldn't help but think it looked like a piece of artwork on display, an exhibit in some strange museum, a sacrifice being prepared for the gods on an altar. Only it wasn't really the diaper being offered up... That was just a symbol. I was the real sacrifice here. Laura Jenkins, the adult, was being given to the god of maturity, and when She was done with me, there would be only Holly Prescott left, a timid, awkward teenager.
"You can't do this!" I screamed, stomping my foot with one final, sudden burst of defiance. "I am a grown-up, and I won't let you do this! I demand that you stop it right now!" But the priest simply kept at her rituals, sprinkling baby powder across the diaper, arranging bottles at one end of the table. The only indication she gave of even hearing me was a subtle shake of the head. "I'm Laura!" I cried. "Laura, Laura, Laura! I'm not a baby!"
My eyes darted around the room frantically as I realized I would have to save myself, somehow. I spotted the dress, slung across the back of the chair, and made a bee-line for it, deciding I could pull it over my head before I hit the door to the hall. I'd have to. Then I'd push past the teacher, and head for the nearest exit. It might be quite a ways to the mall from here, but surely I'd manage to find someone willing to give me a ride. Then all I had to do was get my secretary to call the police to report my car stolen, get a locksmith so I could get into my apartment, and give me a ride home so I could take a shower and go to sleep, and forget all about this crazy day.
I didn't even reach the dress before the nurse plucked me up again, kicking and screaming, and plopped me down on the thick diaper. She pushed me back, holding my chest down as I wriggled and fought. Her other hand kept reaching past my head, then returning with a new bottle, after which I'd feel something new being drizzled across my private parts, some of it slick, some of it thick, all of it cool. Finally, she shook what had to have been a small mountain of baby powder onto me, then let go as she tugged the diaper up between my legs.
Just as I started to sit up, she met me there, pushing me back down as she arranged the front of the diaper over the bottom of my tummy. All the creams and lotions and oils were pressed up against me, making me almost feel like I was wet again already. I heard a ripping sound, then felt one side of the diaper being pulled tight around my leg, the tape pushed firmly down on the front, sealing it in place.
"I know you're upset about this, Holly," she said, putting special emphasis on the name, "and I know kids your age are sure you're already grown-up." The other side of the diaper was tugged taut and fastened, then I was set back on the floor. "But acting like this is only proving that you aren't." She knelt down, doing up the bottom two tapes, leaving me squirming helplessly in my padded prison. "You can't just lie and make up stories," she informed me, standing back up and patting the front of my diaper. "You know you deserved this. And I'm sure it would have been much more pleasant for both of us if you would have just accepted that."
She walked over to my dress and returned to me with it, pulling it over my head. The skirt felt shorter than before, but it still covered the diaper, if just barely, and the lack of anything covering it from below meant I'd have to be careful to keep it that way. I never would have guessed it, but I was really missing my tights, and those shorts. And especially my panties, juvenile as they were. No matter how I moved, I could feel the diaper, the plastic of it crinkling and tickling me, the bulk forcing apart my legs, though not as much as the cloth ones I'd worn last night, thankfully. It seemed bigger in other ways, though, as if it were made for someone larger than me, so it was much higher in the front and back, and the two sides had nearly met in the middle when she'd taped them, which I doubted they were supposed to do.
If it had been too small for me, that would have been one thing, and a nice reprieve, even if I had no doubt the nurse would have found some other solution, but to be put in a diaper, and find out you were actually too little for it... It looked like the gods had accepted their sacrifice after all.
"I'm sure you don't have any other shoes, do you?" she asked, then, without waiting for an answer, got a pair of pink flip-flops from one of the drawers, dropping them down in front of me. Numbly, I slid my feet into them, then stood by and numbly watched as she gathered my wet things and put them into a plastic bag, until, at last, she said, "I'm sure you have somewhere else you'll need to be once lunch is over, don't you?"
I nodded and grabbed my backpack, hugging it to me as I waddled to the door, head spinning. It was only when I reached out for the doorknob that I remembered that this wasn't over yet, that the teacher was outside the door, where he would not only see me in my diaper, but he would also be waiting to take me to the principal's office. It wasn't fair, or right, but even if I hadn't known that trying to explain why was pointless, I doubt I could have gotten through another claim of my adulthood with a straight face.
"Are you ready?" the teacher asked. My face flushed as I looked at him, sure he had to notice my now bare legs, the bulge beneath my skirt, certain he'd heard my useless yelling and pleading from the nurse's office, since Molly had heard me from outside last time. Whether he believed it or not, and I can't imagine he did, the idea of him knowing the truth added extra fire to my cheeks, and made my head bow, unable to look him in the face, or speak.
"Well, let's go," he said after a moment, taking my hand again and leading me to the principal's office.