Peripubertal Female Dysregulation Syndrome (ENF, CMNF, discipline and more)

[EddieDavidson]

I am in awe. Well told.

It's very plausible, despite the implausibility of the scenario.

For those of us who don't understand British dialect, Cuppa - I could figure out. Unocirn sparkley trainers, I would have appreciated a visual description of what is and isn't popping out.

Yesterday, in a raising canes there was this woman with a tank top wife beater on, but it extended down like a onsie into her jeans, so that her hips were exposed, and the jeans were super low cut. I envisioned that witout the jeans and was surprised to learn it means sneakers.

So, I am curous how she will get on nude in public.

[mars357]

Oh yeah, I actually set a story in the UK for once, so I'm using my natural vocabulary and not butchering American English for a change

It's also easier to imagine/predict reactions in a society I'm familiar with. People's responses get a lot more fictional and disconnected from any lived experienced when I set a story in Alabama or some such place! (I only know the American south from stories, books and movies!)

I imagined something like this for the footwear: https://www.zalando.co.uk/skechers-unic ... 0-j11.html

with socks like these: https://www.happysocks.com/uk/product/P001010

[EddieDavidson]

I have the exact opposite experience. I love the cheeky British humor of a show like two pints of lager and a packet of crisps.

I was told that I write British people a lot like Hollywood writes Hugh Grant movies. I researched everything from the number of hot dogs in a pack in Great Britain versus in America to why you guys talk about biscuits over time. biscuits over here means something completely different.

I'd much rather write British stories. Just don't know the culture well enough. I had this idea for a fat bottom Girls nude bicycle ride story., recently.

What I enjoy about your story is not only the setting and the predicament, but the pacing itself. You use the right level of detail in your technique to keep me engaged and to build tension organically.

[Bucket]

Damn this is so outstanding! It's undoubtedly a top 3 story, and it's only getting better and better! Loving every chapter, and I absolutely cannot wait for more!

[mars357]

8. Chapter

It was real. Oh so very real it felt almost too much so. No dream could have conjured up this level of detail. This nuance of physical sensation. Thalia was very aware of her socks and how her feet were confined inside her trainers, a contrast to the slightest breeze brushing over her skin, making her acutely aware that she was completely naked from ankles up. The breeze felt a little cool. Direct rays of sunlight, when they stepped out from the shade of the house and the shrubs at the front, felt subtly warm.

While the lack of clothing exposing her head-to-ankles to anyone who cared to look was the worst part of it, she felt extra naked. Her hair felt weird. Braided and sticking away from her head in those silly, little-girlie pigtails, it didn't touch her neck and shoulders and back in the way she was used to. She had not had it styled like this since she was five or so. What a spectacle she had to be!

The whole thing felt oddly surreal. This was a perfectly familiar environment. Her street. The way she walked to school every day. But it felt different. New. She had never been out here like this. Every window felt like a scrutinising, prying eye to her. Every corner a potential hiding spot for one of the neighbours to just appear out of and see her as she was.

A week spent naked at home had not prepared her for this in the slightest. If anything, it primed her for it. Somehow, she was just enough “used” to her nudity for her mind to stay switched on and reeling, eyes flickering from porch to porch, from door to door, window to window nervously. This was crazy!!! Crazy! She was naked. Outside. Three houses away from her own. Four. Five.

Soon, it might as well have been a mile. She knew Roger was with charge and that he and Daniel could pretty much just drag her onwards if she tried to dig her heels in or run back. And if she caused a scene, she was only going to draw more attention to herself, make more people come out and see. And so she kept trudging on. Slow and reluctant, red-faced, wide-eyed.

Roger couldn't get away with this, could he?

Even with her mum on his side, even with a friend to help him? It really was Roger's stupid cousin-doctor whose word seemed to tip the balance in her disfavour. That spiel about this being a treatment essential for her mental health sounded so damn persuasive. People just seemed to lap it up!
She was torn. A part of her wanted someone to confront Roger, give him a stern telling off. Maybe for a policeman to show up. Surely that would scare the crap out of her supposed friend! The thought conjured up a bunch of very uncomfortable images though. Because even if the policeman confronted Roger, she was still going to be the one standing there butt-naked. In fact, if anyone got confronted and told off, it would probably be Thalia! The thought chilled her. The idea of a policeman walking her home—still naked—and handing her over to mum, or worse yet, driving her to the police station in the centre of the town for MORE people to see her like this put a knot in her stomach. No. Perhaps it was better just to be at Roger's mercy after all. It was too hard to imagine actually escaping her predicament in a way that wouldn't make it way worse first.

Roger to her left, carrying the potty and some other rustling, plastic items in a Tesco's plastic bag, a backpack slung over his shoulder. Black sweatpants. Dark blue socks, blue-grey trainers. A blue t-shirt.

On her right, Daniel, with only a canvas tote bag and some stuff in his pockets that made them bulge. Dark green sweatpants, matching trainers, bright orange socks, green t-shirt with an orange stripe across it. Stylish, modest clothes. Meanwhile, Thalia would have just about killed for an old burlap sack with a hole cut out for her head just for her body to be covered a bit!

It happened just as she was eyeing her companions and feeling a new wave of resentment over her naked predicament.

“Wowzas! Thalia is nakey again!!!”

She actually stumbled and her hands twitched in the direction of her crotch and chest, instinctively trying to cover up before she remembered that wasn't even allowed and dropping them again. It was just Alex, the snotty-nosed five-year-old from next door. The fact that his black shorts, blue sleeveless top and fresh haircut with a smart undercut made him look more mature than her felt like an insult to the injury of being seen by him and commented on so enthusiastically.

“Yes,” Roger actually answered the little pest.

“She's doing naked time every day, for her health, and today we're doing it in the playground.”

“The playground? In the park?” Alex's eyes went wide.

“I'm gonna ask mum if we can go!”

And with that, he bolted off. Thalia groaned. Odds were, she was going to see him again. And his sister, since their mum couldn't exactly leave one of her small kids at home alone. Or rather, they were going to see her again. Naked. Ughhh.

Something about the way little Alex cheerfully shouted for everyone to hear (okay, it was just them three and Alex himself at that exact moment, but out in the open!) and particularly the word “again” bugged her. Naked again. She was the naked girl now. That's what the neighbour's kid was going to remember her as. That was her reputation. Naked Thalia. It was that thought that made her blush darker. When she noticed Roger eyeing her crimson face, grinning, her jaw tensed. It was almost like he could read her thoughts. Ngghhhh!!! She huffed.

She walked on in tense silence, even as Roger and Daniel seemed perfectly relaxed and in good spirits. Then they reached the corner and just like that, Thalia's torment of public embarrassment went from hypothetical to a full-blown nightmare. A car drove down the road. The driver, a random stranger, definitely saw her. Their eyes even met as the man's gaze briefly lingered on her naked form. A dog walker, a neighbour whose name she didn't know walked across their path just ahead and also stared at her. He didn't comment and his look was cryptic. Not exactly disapproving. Curious, maybe? Thalia couldn't fathom what he was thinking because he walked on, not saying anything but she could feel the way his eyes scanned her, head-to-toe as if he was trying to figure out if she was really naked or if it was some trick, like a skin-coloured leotard lingered on, like a burning, prickling sensation on her bare skin.

A jogger, a vaguely familiar greying man, another local who was effectively a stranger to her nearly tripped and fell when he clocked her.
“Is it really that hot already?” he snorted as he jogged on. Roger grinned... and Thalia flushed. How could someone be so casual about seeing a naked girl who was almost a teenager even if she didn't exactly look it, in terms of bodily development?!

There were more cars, more people in the distance. The initial quiet of their street had lulled her into a false sense of security. She almost started to believe they could make it to the park unseen but now.... it suddenly seemed like there were people everywhere. It was still a quiet Saturday morning, but there were people. People seeing her, people about to see her. It might as well have been Trafalgar Square at this point. She felt the heat in her face rise to that extreme level that made even her ears bright red. The only bit of good news was that with her stomach tight with panic and her mind reeling and scanning around, constantly assessing the “damage”, her body didn't respond in the same way it previously did when Roger humiliated her. Not a twinge of arousal. Thank God for small mercies. Though just as she thought it she felt a little shiver and twinge in her belly.
They crossed the road and stepped through a low, creaky gate onto the trim lawn of the park. The open space made Thalia feel weird, a sensation almost like vertigo. Somehow, being this side of the gate, in the very open field no longer felt like she was “almost at home”, just down the road... No. This was the park, a different environment. With people, too. Joggers. Dog-walkers. The occasional mum with a pushchair.

And she was naked.

It would have felt awful if Roger had dressed her up silly, made her go in childish, undersized clothes or even one of her old leotards, but his and Thalia's mum's assessment had been quite correct. That would have been bearable. Awkward, but somewhat silly. Being here as she was, with everything on display, her nipples, her slit, butt-crack, everything that ordinarily stays modestly hidden in public didn't feel silly at all. It felt overwhelmingly embarrassing in a very serious, not-at-all silly way. She couldn't push the awareness out of the front of her mind. She couldn't laugh it off, diminish it. They kept on moving so she couldn't even close her eyes and try and pretend she wasn't even here. There was no escape, real or illusory. Thalia just had to shuffle on, her feet lead-like and hands shaky, steered onwards. Every instinct in her body screamed at her to turn around and run. The playground was busy. There were lots of kids. She couldn't run, it wouldn't work. Roger was in charge, he'd just catch her, spank her, make it work. She knew that. She knew this was going to happen and the helplessness brought tears to her eyes. Her face beet-red. Knowing how visibly and obviously she was blushing made her feel worse. It made the blush worse, too, like a vicious self-perpetuating loop. She could feel the warmth, all over her face, even in her ears. A little whimper escaped her lips.

Roger glanced at her and then he followed her eyes and grinned.

Just ahead, on the flat grassy area right by the side of the fenced-off play area for smaller kids, with its “no dogs” signs, slides, merry-go-rounds, swings, climbing frames and a sandpit, a group of children played Frisbee. Thalia tripped over her feet and stumbled, almost falling down.
“P... please...” she wheezed, teary eyes locking at Roger. She didn't recognise anyone yet, not from this distance but in a town this size, a neighbourhood like this... they were inevitably kids from their school, friends, possibly classmates.

“It's essential for your treatment that you're seen. If there weren't any people we know, we'd have to stick around until someone showed up, so consider this kind of like ripping the plaster off.”

Thalia groaned. Whimpered. It was almost impossible to keep walking. Her legs felt like jelly. Her knees felt... weak and wrong, almost like they may bend the wrong way any moment. Her gut felt like it had been replaced by cold, murky pond-water.

She couldn't do this.

And yet, it only took her body one swift, sharp smack on the rump, delivered casually by Roger and she was walking again, moving towards her doom before she even knew it. Frodo probably had an easier job clambering up the Orodruin with the Ring weighing him down than Thalia had dragging her naked butt closer and closer to being noticed and seen.

It felt like a car crash, no, more like... an execution in slow-motion, while she was somehow helping the executioner to chop her head off or whatever. So painfully deliberate.

Everything already felt disastrously bad, but just as Thalia recognised that the Frisbee-playing group were indeed classmates, all six of the players, she also realised that the weird weight and tension in her lower belly wasn't just humiliation and anxiety, but also a very physical pressure—the result of all the juice and water Roger made her drink before they left. She was going to have to pee before long. But before she could even process that particular indignity being a likely inevitable part of her immediate future, Emily's voice rose above the general clamour, high-pitched and excited, with a hint of slightly confused disbelief.

“Oh my God! Is that Thalia?!”

Other voices followed right on the back of her exclamation.

“Thalia Crowford?!”

“Like... naked???”

Yep. Her life was officially over.

The Frisbee was dropped and forgotten and seconds later, Thalia had a semi-circle of classmates staring at her.

Emily, a freckled, skinny girl with curious brown eyes, looking at Thalia like some exotic oddity.

Isla's blue eyes wide, her mouth open. The dark-golden-blonde girl looked perhaps most shocked of the lot.

Olivia was grinning and snickering. She didn't like Thalia very much, especially her recent attitude. Like Roger, Olivia used to be a friend, and someone Thalia stopped being nice to and pushed away more recently. The redhead couldn't help but feel a twinge of glee at seeing her smug and haughty classmate knocked down a few pegs!

Teddy's brown eyes looked like they were about to pop out of their sockets, positively glued on Thalia's slit.

Alex and Sid were staring, too. It was too much, and despite the painful build-up of walking here and approaching them, the way they rushed over and stared now felt too sudden and it overwhelmed Thalia. Her hands instinctively slipped over her body in a futile attempt to cover up, one across her chest, one down over her crotch even as she felt the heat of her blush intensify and worsen.

She should have run. At least if Roger her dragged her here kicking and screaming everyone would know that this was being done to her against her will. Having ambled here meekly alongside him and Daniel made it seem like she was a willing, active participant. But it was too late now.

“Why are you naked?” Sid, ever the sensible, down to earth tyke was the first one to ask the obvious question, their dark eyes flicking suspiciously between Thalia and Roger from behind their pageboy-cut fringe.

“And with your hair done up like a toddler's?” snorted Olivia.

“I'll explain,” offered Roger, “but first things first. Thalia?” he cleared his throat. Thalia's eyes, wide and panicked on her tomato-coloured face flicked towards him and she immediately realised what he was about to say. She wished she could secretly, discretely communicate with him. She'd do anything. Not one, a dozen blowjobs every day if only he relented and cut her a little bit of slack.

But there was no way of letting him know and he likely wouldn't have relented anyway.

“Hands on your head, legs apart.”

Shakily, with a tear trickling down her face, she obeyed. Her hands slipped away from covering her nipples and slit, rising until they touched the top of her head. Elbows stretched out. It took another breath and a real effort to stand up straight and make her knees part somewhat, exposing herself.

“Wider.”

Again, her legs shuffled further apart, even as she sniffled. Everyone could now see... everything.

Alex stared, eyes only briefly flicking towards Roger as if he imagined he'd see the source of his classmate's new superpower of simply commanding a girl and being obeyed to the T.

Thalia was aware of the coolness of the morning air on her slit. Aware that her legs were wide enough now to make her outer pussy lips part and reveal the tiny petals normally hidden from view, as well as the hood of her clit. At least she wasn't all wet and puffed up—which frankly wasn't much of a consolation just then.

Finally, Roger nodded at her, then turned to their classmates.

“Thalia has a medical condition, the PFDS. If left untreated, this could be very dangerous, basically damage her brain,” he announced gravely. “She's being treated under the guidance of my cousin, who is a psychologist. The treatment basically makes sure that she doesn't have false confidence and sense of control and invulnerability.” Roger had read Jason's instructions and script so many times it all rolled off his tongue quite naturally by this point. Big words and all.

“The treatment is basically a re-set, which involves a bit of regression, treating her like she's little,” he poked one of Thalia's braided high pigtails, making it sway around. “For it to work, we must make sure she's not resisting it and the only way to do that is to keep her exposed and vulnerable. Even if it's humiliating, in fact, blushing,” he pointed at her face, “feelings of shame, embarrassment, humiliation are currently the only indicators one can have that the treatment is working.”

His classmates stared at Roger like he had grown another head. Sure, he was bookish, geeky at times and did well at school but the way he recited Jason's carefully created web of lies and fabulations came across as very impressive. Most of his classmates were lapping it up, too, listening with fascination. The only one who seemed a bit sceptical was Sid, but they didn't say anything.

Emily suddenly flinched back and made a face.

“Wait! Is this PF-stuff catchy?”

“No,” Roger snorted. “It's neurological and hormonal. Definitely not catching,” he explained, but then froze for a moment as it suddenly occurred to him that Thalia didn't necessarily have to be the only girl ever diagnosed with PFDS, in fact, if he wanted to keep the charade up, another case or two around town might make the whole thing seem a lot more plausible. He made a mental note to mull this over later and try and remember which girls he knew might have gullible or not-so-bright parents.

He had to push the thought aside, because the sheer scope of what had suddenly opened up before him was enough to make his head reel.
The girls relaxed and Emily leaned back in, as if to make sure that Thalia wasn't making a “nude suit”, an “invisible” leotard or something such, but the pinkness of Thalia's slit and all the details visible between her legs, as well as nipples were clear as day and they were real. This wasn't a trick. Thalia really was standing right there in front of them, legs spread, hands on her head, stark naked!

No wonder her face was the colour of an over-ripe tomato!

“So... what's the plan? What does this... treatment involve?” asked Alex, the corners of his mouth twitching. This was hilarious! He wasn't sure what to expect when Roger texted him last night and told him to make sure to be near the playground bright and early on Saturday, with some friends. This has surpassed his wildest hopes and expectations already and it seemed as though it was about to get even better!

“Funny you should ask. I have a list. A bunch of things Thalia has to do before we can go home,” grinned Roger. Thalia gulped. Not another list! There already was a list of daily chores, the stupid list of humiliating rules hanging on the kitchen wall... it was just endless.

“They are mostly for the playground,” he announced and nudged Thalia. They walked through the gate, followed by Daniel and the rest of their classmates, the game of Frisbee totally forgotten now.

“Mama, that girl is nakked!” chirped a little girl.

“Hey, you lot, what is the meaning of this?” the girl's mother frowned.

“My friend needs to be naked today because of her medical condition. She means no harm and she will behave. I have a letter from her doctor if you don't believe me...” offered Roger. The lady looked at the stamped and signed statement printed on very official looking headed paper and shrugged, handing it back. Another mum was about to confront the kids as well, but the first one turned to her instead to explain. There was also a pot-bellied guy on a bench nearby with his two little sons who definitely clocked Thalia's naked butt as well, his eyes lingering on her, but he didn't look like he was about to say anything, let alone complain.

The only comments they got all came from the smallish children, preschoolers and little primary school kids, and they were all aimed directly at Thalia, or exchange between kids without really directing them at anyone else.

“Nakey-nakey!”

“Forgot something?”

“Look! Isn't she silly!”

“Wow, I wouldn't wanna be on the playground all nakey!”

“Tsssk, I would,” bragged a five-year-old boy, “but mum won't let me. She's always like: Put some pants on, Nate!”

The boy wiggled his butt, but contrary to his bold statement he didn't seem inclined to join Thalia in her nudist escapades.

Roger found an empty bench, he and the girls sat while everyone else just sort of stood around.

“All right, first things first. Monkey bars,” Roger pointed. “There AND back, backwards so it's not too easy, bend your knees so your feet don't trail on the ground!”

Thalia's eyes went wide. She had sort of assumed that GOING to the playground naked was the treatment. She didn't realise Roger was going to make her PLAY like a little kid! If this was what his list was like... she groaned. This was going to be a long day!

She trotted across the playground towards the monkey bars, trying her best to ignore the occasional snickers, giggles and gleeful childish comments. Doing them forwards was quick and fairly easy. She didn't like the way her hanging body felt... stretched and even more exposed but at least that bit was over quickly. But doing them backwards?

Thalia fumbled. It didn't seem like such a big deal, and yet, she fumbled. By then, several smaller children have assembled around to ogle her, giggling, pointing... Thalia got all flustered, her blush reaching new depths and her hands soon got shaky and less certain. Daniel had walked over. She was halfway back when she missed a grip and didn't quite mange to hold on with her other hand, slipping and dropping down.

She reached up, but Daniel shook his head.

“Nu-huh. From the start. You gotta do them front and back in one go.”

Oh no! And her arms were starting to tire a little, too. This wasn't going to get any easier as time went on. She shook her arms out, stretched her wrists, hopped onto the monkey bars and did them, going forwards, trying not to think too much about the view her dangling, swinging legs offered to bits of her that normally remained unseen. Once again, going forward was easy.

“Can I turn around and go back facing the other way?” she huffed at Daniel, who shook his head.

“No. Roger said backwards.”

It really wasn't that much harder. It should have been easy. But with all those eyes on her... she felt so naked. Sticking out like a sore thumb, for everyone to ogle and giggle at. It took longer than it should have.

She was lucky, really, that she was a fairly athletic, lean girl. Steady, one rung at a time, she made her way back and this time, succeeded.

She looked at Daniel, frowning, but he only smiled and nodded. Aware of all the eyes on her, including the throng of her classmates around the bench, she hurried back. The sooner this was all done and over with, the better.

“Have a go at each of the swings. Apart from the one for actual babies.”

That, at least wasn't physically challenging, but it mean that the few children who had not yet closed Thalia's presence and predicament most certainly did now. She had to right across the playground, swing a few times on each swing. One of them was occupied by a pretty enthusiastic little girl, which meant Thalia had to stand there, red-faced, naked, nervous and fidgeting to wait her turn. Still, as far as humiliating tasks went, that one felt pretty tame, all things considered, thought Thalia as she hurried back over to Roger for more instructions.

“Build a tower in the sandpit. It must be taller than your knees when you stand next to it,” said Roger.

The sandpit? She gulped. At least that task didn't sound physically taxing, or like something she could mess up. It was the sheer indignity of having to join the smallest, youngest of the children present like she was one of them that irked her. The task was clearly meant to be humiliating. She soon realised—as she caught a boy in his pull ups staring at her from behind, the full extent of the degradation.

There was absolutely no, even semi-dignified way to hand scoop lots of sand without getting down on her hands and knees first, sticking her butt... and everything that this position revealed, at everyone who cared to look. Which turned out to be all her friends and classmates. Her face burned red as she scooped the sand. Knee high initially seemed like an easy task, but it's been a while since it rained, and the dry sand didn't hold shape very well at all, collapsing and sliding... she had to keep building a bigger and bigger pile, the sand grains clinging to the sheen of sweat on her skin. Finally, she reckoned the “tower” (more like an oversized molehill in the end) was tall enough and stood up. Roger crouched down to assess the situation and after a little hesitation, he nodded.

“All right. Now... down the slide!”

“But...”

“Exactly. Climb up, and slide down. On your butt,” he chuckled.

Thalia huffed. Did he have to make fun of her, on top of everything? The task turned out to be the most humiliating one yet. The slide was busy, forcing her to climb up the ladder and queue up top in a line kids who were on average half her age. Painfully aware that the eight-year-old boy right behind her (wasn't there a girl a moment ago?) was staring at her butt and her peaking slit from barely any distance at all. The way he was peering at her made it seem like he was about to stick his nose in her crack! Ughhh! But she didn't dare tell him off. The kids parents were now mercifully ignoring her and she didn't want to bring any more attention to herself than she was already drawing at that point.

She only had to spend about a minute in the line, but what a minute it was. Even the little kids around her were more dignified than her! And then...
I don't know if you ever tried to slide down a dry, playground slide without any clothes on. Long story short? Metal and dry, slightly sandy skin don't make for the smoothest sliding experience. Thalia sat down to the top of the slide... and nothing happened. She had to lift herself up, “slide” a few inches, change her grip to the sides of the slide, lift herself up again, bum-shuffling the entire way down. It caused such a riot of laughter and glee that no one even seemed to mind that it took her ten times the usual time to get all the way down. By the time she managed to shamble down the entire length of the slide, nearly all the three-to-nine-year old children stood at the bottom, cheering her on in a sing-song way. They weren't even being mean, not exactly, but it was a lot of attention and noise and laughter, all ringing in her ears in a way that made her heart pound and an acrid taste rise up in her mouth from how tense her tummy felt.

Her butt was pink and slightly abraded by that point, too, and Thalia quite miserable and sorry for herself by the time she got down.

It was at that moment that Thalia snapped. There were just too many children (including Roger, Daniel, Emily and her other classmates) laughing at her. The intensity of the shame overwhelmed her. Not thinking about the possible consequences, she stood up as soon as she reached the bottom of the slide, and broke into a sprint. Through the gate, out onto the green, along the edge of the park. She was heading home. There was no plan, no rational thought to her actions. She just couldn't take it any more. And even though she could hear Roger call after her, even though she was still naked outside and in plain view of everyone, and deep down aware that there was no escape, that she was going to get caught... for a moment there, Thalia felt free, almost joyful. No one was touching her, ogling her up close or bossing her about. She was running as fast as her legs would carry her. Away from the crowd, away from Roger's stupid list of humiliating tasks. Away. It wasn't a lot, but for a brief moment, it was enough. Enough to feel an uplifting sense of relief.

Relief, alas, that was extremely short-lived. She was fast, but not quite as fast as the boys, not least because she was barefoot and slowed down, wincing in pain when she hit the gravelled verge of the park. Before she reached the pavement, before she could even think about crossing the road, a hand grabbed her arm, then another one... and she was caught.

Roger huffed a few times before he managed to talk.

“And you were doing so well. We could almost have gone home by now,” he shrugged. Instead, she got pulled back onto the grass and towards a nearby bench. She struggled a bit but it was half-hearted. By that time, she was surrounded. There was no way she was going to escape now. Not with Daniel, Alex and Teddy all there, and Sid and the girls catching up already, too.

When Roger pulled her arm and made her pretty much fall over his lap, for a split second she thought it was an accident and tried to clamber off his lap, but he pinned her down. And then his right hand landed on her buttocks with a loud smack and Thalia yelped, even as she realised exactly what was going on.

He was actually spanking her. On the bare. In front of everyone! Had she expected it, had it not happened in such a hurry, she might have tried to put on a brave face and taken it in silence. But she was too breathless, too flustered to think rationally. She kicked, and thrashed and squealed and cried and Roger only laid into her butt more in response. Smack after loud, firm smack rained on her bottom in an unstoppable rush. When he finally stopped, several minutes later, everyone else stood around silent and stunned. Her tearful, quiet sniffles were the loudest sound around. Her buttocks were a glowing shade of red.

“Spankings are a part of Thalia's treatment,” Roger explained. “It's a direct, easy feedback. Primitive and normally not a recommended form of discipline, but with PFDS, the direct link between resistant behaviour and physical pain breaks the neural pathway that perpetuates maladaptive behaviour.”

Once again, people stared at him like he had grown another head. They had no idea he had repeated that phrase close to a hundred times in front of a mirror on the evening before.

Thalia lay limply over his lap and kept on crying for a bit. What could she do? She knew she had brought that on herself. When Roger let her, she awkwardly, stiffly slipped off his lap and stood up, rubbing her sore butt. It felt hot to the touch, and she winced as her palm made the pain briefly worse before it began to soothe it somewhat.

“I... I'm sorry,” she peeped towards Roger.

And then her eyes went a little wide, as the sensation she had been trying to push out of her mind fully caught up with her.

“I... uhm... I r-really ne-need to p-pee. U-urgently,” she hiccuped, shame-faced. She didn't want to say it, and she most certainly didn't want Roger to whisk out the potty and make her go in front of all the people present, but by that point it was much like in the morning. Either that, or wetting herself right where she was standing.

[Freesub]

It's getting better, more and more public exposure