Pantsing and Stripping Forums

“Welcome back Emily.” The words registered over a loud, constant drone as Emily struggled to make sense of what was going on, a process that wasn’t helped by the treacle like speed at which her mind was operating, nor the pounding in her head.

“We were beginning to wonder if you were going to wake up before we landed,” the voice continued cheerily, “should’ve known the smell of food would do the trick.”

“Oh yes,” the happy woman said, “I’m sure must be feeling quite groggy, but don’t worry your pretty little head, you’ll be right as rain in no time!”

The woman looked around before leaning in to whisper conspiratorially, “s’ok hun, they told us in about your little accident, don’t worry about it, my eldest still wets herself from time to time too, and she’s twelve! Just forget about it and let me know when you need a change, ok?”

“Neurghhh” Was the best Emily could manage as she pried her tongue from the roof of her mouth.

Standing back up, the woman, a flight attendant Emily realised as her brain started to fire on more than two neurons, continued as if Emily had uttered something comprehensible, “Such a good girl, I’ll bring your dinner in ten, give you a chance to wake up a bit more.”

The attendant backed up, patted her on the head like she was a little kid, “I love your top,” she said with a wink, “but Daffy was always my favourite! Laters baby girl.”

Emily didn’t react. She was too confused by what was going on, and still struggling to make sense of the tsunami of words the attendant had just spouted at her.

Start with the obvious, she thought, face screwed up in concentration as she tried to force her lethargic mind into action. I’m on a plane - check. I feel like dirt – check. Ummm… That was it, she couldn’t remember being at an airport let alone getting on a plane although obviously she had.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a tugging sensation when the plane jerked, a belt digging into her tummy. Something that seemed to focus her mind on everything else her body was trying to tell her…

Her mouth wasn’t only dry, it felt like she’d been chewing sand. When did she last have a drink? A cool breeze was blowing from one of those little vents, irritating her eyes and, weirdly, tickling her feet.

No sooner had she thought of her feet than she noticed the scratchy, crawly sensation traveling up her legs to the pressure around her middle. She looked down, and wished she hadn’t. The world lurched sideways as a wave of dizziness washed over her forcing her to close her eyes momentarily.

But that brief glimpse had been enough to tell her something weird was going on with her clothes. Her bare feet stuck out from a thin airline blanket so small that it barely covered her from ankle to lap belt, and her top, she was certain she’d never seen it before. Neon pink with a huge cartoon cat emblazoned across her chest, it looked like something a little kid would wear. And why was the bottom bulging out so obscenely? It looked like she’d put on twenty pounds for goodness’ sake!

Emily tentatively poked at the bulge, watching fascinated as her finger slowly disappeared, sinking into the squishy mass hidden under the blanket and the hideous top.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” a boy’s giggly voice startled her from her exploration, “you might leak!”

The seatbelt light came on and the PA crackled to life, the pilot speaking over the boy, “Sorry about that ladies and gentlemen,” he announced, “I’ll try my best but looks like we’re in for a few bumps… sorry to say meal service will be delayed and the toilets will be out of use until we’re out of this rough patch, crew secure the cabin and be seated. That is all.”

Emily stared at the boy, wondering why he looked vaguely familiar but couldn’t place him.

“I’ve been waiting for you to wake up, you know,” he said when the PA cut out, “you got me in so much trouble,” he seethed, voice turning cold and hard, “my old man gave me a good hiding right there in front of everybody, made me delete the video too, or,” he smirked, “that’s what he thinks anyway, cloud backup’s great innit…”

Emily just looked at him more confused than ever, until he smirked. His words faded into the background as memories rushed in of him staring at her back at the airport, smirking just like he was now, with his phone pointing at her as she lay naked on the floor.

"Heh pay attention!” he snapped, “Way I see it," he continued almost conversationally, leaning over to hiss right next to her ear, "you owe me... and I'm going to collect one way or the other..."

Emily moaned, horrified by the memories he was stirring up, terrified of what he might say or do, she needed to hide, to make it all go away. She jerked the blanket up, right up over her face, pressed her hands tight against her ears, and rocked as much as the belt would allow as she tried to block out the images the boy’s words were manifesting in her head.

“Nice legs,” he said a little louder, “want to give the whole plane a show? It’s not what I had in mind, but I can get louder if you like, let everyone see what a little slut you are… or,” his tone changed suddenly as he continued, “just a few bumps, see, nothing to worry about.

If Emily hadn't been confused already, she certainly would be now... the sudden change in tone threw her completely until the boy spoke again, "Oh yes ma’am, I think she was scared by the turbulence... of course... she's just like my little sister, I'll be happy to give her a hand."

Emily realised he must be talking to someone, a flight attendant maybe. “See,” the boy said, turning to her and grabbing her hand as she dropped the blanket hoping for help, “we’re gonna be real good friends, now aren’t we sweety? Got a smile there for the nice lady?”

The ‘or else’ went unsaid, but was clear when he squeezed her hand tightly, it was all Emily could do to nod shakily as she looked at the flight attendant, a small sickly parody of a smile barely touching her lips.

With a heavy heart, she watched the attendant disappear behind a curtain. She was trapped and she knew it, if she didn’t cooperate… no, that didn’t bear thinking about.

“Now where was I?” the boy asked, his tone turning cold again while his fingers stroked her palm, “I was planning on spanking you, give you something to remember me by… ‘cos I sure ain’t gonna forget you… but, tell you what, I’m feeling generous, I’m gonna let you choose!”

“So, what’s it gonna be?” he drawled, “the spanking you owe me or a door number two… nuh uh,” he added when Emily started to shake her head, “no hints… so pick, or I’ll choose for you…”

Emily was so muddled, she couldn't believe what she was hearing, but did she deserve to be punished? She wasn’t so sure now, what he was saying was making a sick, twisted kind of sense to her and, much as she didn't want to go along with it, she was starting to feel like she had no choice.

A spanking would hurt, she was sure, but couldn't be as bad as anything she'd endured since the choosing party. But without knowing what his alternative was, she wondered, was it worth the risk? It really couldn't be worse, right? After all, what could he really do to her in a plane packed with hundreds of people? The look in his eye answered that question for her, there was plenty he could do! She was so confused, the little hamster wheel inside her head spinning wildly out of control, spanking or something else? Spanking or something else? It didn't even occur to her to refuse!

“Time’s up,” he said, “and as the bathrooms are out of order, I guess we’ll start there... You’ve got a diaper on, have you used it yet?”

Emily’s head snapped up as his hand dipped to her crotch, biting back a scream as he wormed a finger down into her diaper and dragged it through her slit.

“Hmmm, still dry,” he mumbled as he withdrew his hand and pulled the blanket back over her lap, “for now… I bet you’re just dying to get out of that thing, aren’t ya?”

Emily nodded mutely, of course she wanted to not be wearing a diaper, she was fourteen not four for pity’s sake. The boy grinned, his eyes flicking away from hers towards the front of the plane before returning to her.

"So, let’s play a game, I drink, you drink… whoever holds out longest wins. And you’re gonna wanna win," he paused, passing her bottles of water, "otherwise you’re gonna be stuck wearing a soggy diaper for the rest of this long ass flight!"

"That's one," he said, belching after draining a bottle in one continuous swallow, "better keep up or we might have to talk penalties..."

Emily looked at him in shock, flinching at the thought of penalties, but took the hint and started on her own water. The cool water felt soooo good against her parched tongue that she almost moaned in delight.

"Good girl," he grinned, opening another bottle.

The next hour passed quickly. The fluids and a half decent meal did wonders for the pounding in Emily Jane’s head, the same could not be said for her bladder. Pressure slowly built to a dull ache, uncomfortable but she knew, nothing she couldn’t live with… yet.

After another hour she'd started to squirm in her seat, the pressure was slowly turning to pain, and it didn’t help that another pressing need was developing. Still, she matched him drink for drink, knowing she could hold out a while longer, determined not to use the diaper under any circumstances. If she could just hold it in, he'd have to go eventually, right?

Every time Emily looked at him, he was cool, calm and collected. Just where, she wondered, was he putting it all? He alternated between drinking and poking fun at Emily as she wriggled and writhed, constantly teasing her, telling her to just give up and let it go, while the pressure in her tummy continued to increase with every sip.

Twenty minutes later she felt like she was going to burst, the plane had started bouncing again and her stomach was cramping violently with an urgent need. She looked over at her tormentor to see him laid back, eyes closed with his hands folded behind his head. This was her chance! Conceding defeat, she undid her seatbelt and climbed to her feet, careful to make as little noise as possible.

She took a step into the aisle and groaned, and bent over double just as the ‘ping’ of the seatbelt sign chimed around the cabin. She looked around frantically for the nearest vacant bathroom, desperate beyond measure as her brain screamed, “Code Brown! Code Brown! This is not a drill!” at her, but every light was red, there was nowhere she could go.

Groaning, she turned back to her seat. She only made it one step before finding her path blocked, his leg stuck out between the seats across the aisle.

“Going somewhere,” he asked in that insufferable tone, “didn’t you see the sign?”

“ugh, I...” she groaned, unable to talk as she clamped her hands over her backside, it was too late. She couldn’t hold it any longer, “no, no, no…” she moaned softly, tears cascading down her face as her bladder gave up its fight too, scalding liquid joining the rest of the mess collecting in her diaper.

“And what is that awful smell?” To Emily it sounded like he was talking loudly enough for everyone to hear as he stood sniffing theatrically and fanning his hands, drawing as many eyes to Emily as he could, “It’s gross! Damn it girl, you’ve crapped yourself, haven’t you? Well, I guess it’s good you’ve got that diaper on, but really… you couldn’t go to the bathroom earlier like a normal person would?”

Emily stood rooted to the spot, head bowed and unable to speak, mortified at the thought of the hundreds of eyes she just knew had to be staring at her, judging her for being defective, for being dirty.

"Jesus, I can smell you from here!" The boy continued, lurching back into his seat and pressing his call button repeatedly, "The crew’ll have to sort you out!"

“Sorry honey,” A harried flight attendant said, placing a hand on Emily’s shoulder and pushing her back towards her seat, “but you really do have to sit down now, sorry… so sorry…”

Emily was squished into her seat, disgusting warmth spreading into every nook and cranny, “It's not my fault,” she mumbled over and over, reaching for the sick bag as the shame, and the smell, overwhelmed her.

“Hey there,” a couple of attendants arrived once the seatbelt sign was finally turned off, “we’re here to, umm, well, you know, clean you up. Can you stand up for me sweetheart?”

Emily tried but couldn’t force her legs to comply. She shook her head miserably until strong hands eventually pulled her gently from her seat, “Sorry honey, I know this is embarrassing but we can’t take you to the bathroom like this, you’re leaking,” the friendly lady from earlier said gently, “That’s it, just stand in this… Good girl…”

Emily followed her directions robotically, feeling like she was stuck in the middle of one of her nightmares, standing in a large trash bag in the middle of a crowded plane, knowing that she was about to be stripped bare ass naked, with people brushing past her in the narrow aisle, their disgust evident on their faces.

“Now you don’t want to get that pretty shirt dirty do you,” The attendant, Helen according to her nametag, continued, “just whip it off. Quick, like pulling a band-aid, get it over and done with yeah?”

No, she thought, this was worse than being stripped, they were making her strip away her clothes and her dignity herself. Emily’s trembling hands rose to the neck of her shirt, hands freezing unable to go any further when that damned boy caught her eye. She snapped her eyes forward, away from his manic grin - her gaze falling on Helen in time to see the professional façade briefly waver.

“Timmy,” Helen said, with a small roll of the eyes, “give the girl a hand, will you?”

Emily dropped her head unable to look at anyone as Timmy tugged her shirt up and over her head effortlessly. Embarrassing? Embarrassing, she wanted to scream, is far too small a word when they were stripping her right there out in front of anyone who cared to look. Soul crushingly mortifying maybe, humiliating, belittling... cold air suddenly blasted across her chest making her jump, she looked up to see her tormentor grinning evilly as he played with his vent.

“Nearly there sweetheart," the female attendant said, oblivious to the boy’s actions, as she pulled the edges of the plastic bag up to Emily’s knees, "we’ll be quick, ok?... Timmy..."

Emily could only shake her head and moan piteously at the ripping sound the Velcro tabs made as they were pulled apart, shuddering as the 'splat' that followed echoed loud in her ears.

Helen was talking, Emily could see her mouth moving but with crowd’s silent opinions reverberating loudly in her ears couldn’t understand the jumble of noise. Emily felt something thin and slippery pressed into her hands and watched with dismay as Helen and Timmy walked away from her, hands raised in a ‘wait right there’ gesture. She could feel the crowd pressing closer, hear their taunts getting louder, “Dirty beast, filthy trash, shameless hussy…”

She looked back down, closing her eyes like a little child trying to hide from the monsters under the bed, not willing to risk accidentally looking at any of the other passengers and meet their disgust head on.

She crouched lower into her trash bag, the lip finally passing her hips, covering her very public privates and the lingering mess encasing her middle. She jerked at the unexpected contact when a finger pressed under her chin, “Look at me,” the boy said lifting her head, his voice cutting through her misery, dragging her back into the present.

She knew that voice, this mess was all his fault… She opened her eyes ready to vent some of her anger and humiliation on him. He was knelt right in front of her, his eyes locked on hers – looking straight into her soul. She was transfixed by his gaze, unable to look away as he leant in close.
Closer, until the slightest movement would press his lips against her skin. His warm breath brushed against her ear, “You got your wish,” he giggled, “you said you wanted out of that diaper.”

She screamed, crashing to the floor in shock as ice water flowed down her back from his upturned cup.

“Oops, clumsy me,” he laughed, voice turning hard, “don’t go getting any ideas bitch, things can always get worse.”

Worse? Emily’s thought, how could things possibly get any worse? I’ve been drugged, infantilised, and utterly humiliated, again! I’m a squatting here naked in the middle of a crowded plane, stuck in a giant trash bag and covered in a disgusting mess, a complete laughingstock.

Her thoughts darkened rapidly, yes… things could get worse, the attendants had both disappeared somewhere… were they going to leave her here like this? Shuddering at the prospect she curled tighter around herself, bag clamped tight by straining fingers.

“Oh my God! What the hell’s wrong with you? Stand up this instant, are you even listening to me?” An irate woman demanded, pulling at Emily’s arm, “What is that… NO! I mean, no, for the love of… don’t let go of the bag… oh…”

The barrage of words died into an awkward silence as Helen reappeared and spoke softly into her colleague’s ear.

“Well, I should have been informed!” The woman huffed out, dismissing Emily as a problem for someone else to deal with, “Get this mess cleaned up and see if you can salvage the seat. I’ll have Anne check to see if anything else is free.”

“Congratulations kiddo,” Helen said with a wink as the other woman stormed off, “you’ve just survived your first encounter with a dragon but let’s, umm,” she finished quietly, glancing over her shoulder, “keep that little nickname to ourselves, eh?”

Emily didn’t respond, couldn’t – what was there to say anyway? For all she cared, Helen could have called her supervisor a flat-out bitch. Listening to Helen talk wasn’t getting her any cleaner, or dressed but, she knew, pissing her off by bringing any of that up was unlikely to speed things along either.

With a resigned sigh, Emily stood waiting to be cleaned up like a little kid. Honestly, at this point, she was just relieved the woman had actually come back, but wished she would get on with it so this nightmare could finally end.

Emily wearily watched Helen’s back as the woman dug around in her bag, hopefully preparing to scrub her down, perhaps if the woman could just stop talking and concentrate... Helen turned back to her, and Emily’s eyes widened in alarm. She drew in a sharp breath when she noticed the thick rubber gloves, remembering what had happened back at the airport.

"Don't worry about it honey," Helen said, misreading Emily's expression, "this is nothing, you should see some of the things I've had to do over the years, and look, I found you a spare shirt too…”

“But what…,” Emily, croaked out, confused... why had they stripped ‘her’ old top off like that, if they’d had something clean she could use? It hadn’t been much, but at least it had kept her partially covered…

“…so you'll be just fine! And there’s no need to scowl, I’ll get the worst off,” she continued not hearing, or ignoring Emily's question as she put words into action, “and as you’re being such a big, brave girl the pilot says you can have a quick shower up in first…”

Emily winced, pushing her knees further apart automatically as the rough cloth scraped over her kitty, nice? Fine? Emily wondered as the woman babbled on, did she honestly expect her to be happy after being stripped and scrubbed like this, after being left displayed in the middle of a crowded plane for the whole world to see?

“… nearly done,” she grunted with an effort that lifted Emily to her tiptoes, “just be glad you don’t have any hair down here yet, it would’ve been awful getting this muck out of that, would have had to shave it off probably… My that's a little, well... I never, my mother woulda beat me two ways to Sunday if I'd...”

Somebody snorted a laugh. Emily shook and the tears that had been threatening started dripping down her face again. Wasn’t it bad enough that everyone was watching the attendant treat her like a baby, comment on her every fault - wasn't it bad enough everyone could see just how flat and ugly she was? Did the woman really have to announce her lack of development down and disappointment over her grooming 'choices' there to the rest of the passengers too?

“…OK, ready for that shower?” Helen looked up at her, professional smile back in place, “The pilot made a special exception just for you! How cool is that? Normally, it’s only for over twelves, but when he heard, well, he… What’s the matter honey?” Helen’s voice trailed off as she seemed to notice Emily’s grimace and the tears running down her face for the first time, “Does somebody need a hug?”

“No!” Emily jerked backwards, “Just… just…” There was so much she wanted to say to the woman, unable to find the words to ask how she could treat her this way, as if her feelings didn't matter, as if her dignity was of no consequence…

“Well, I guess we should get going then.” Helen said grabbing a towel.

A real smile formed on Emily’s face at the prospect of being covered up for the first time in what felt like forever, even if it was only a ratty old towel. And she was clean, well cleaner, a shower would take care of the rest. It was almost enough for her to forgive the bumbling flight attendant; she’d only been doing her job after all.

“Make sure you wipe your feet well,” Helen said, dropping the towel beside the trash bag, “and I’ll take you to the showers.”

Emily’s carefully stepped onto the towel; one hand holding the back of a seat, the other pressed firmly over her crotch while she scraped her soles against the coarse material. She looked expectantly at the older woman as she tied off the trash bag and sealed it in a bright orange ‘biohazard’ sack.

Her smile froze and disappeared as Helen stared at her blankly, “Ready?” she asked a few heartbeats later.

“But I’m naked,” Emily softly protested, “I don’t the whole plane to see me like this! It was bad enough…”

“Oh, stop worrying,” Helen interrupted matter-of-factly, “nobody cares about little kids running around naked, even with that... so come on, let’s…”

“Stop!” Emily had reached her breaking point, there was no way she was going to walk through the rest of the plane baring herself to the rest of the passengers, “Nobody cares? Nobody? I care! Now will you stop treating me like a little kid and give me something…”

“Oh, don’t be in such a hurry to grow up,” Helen spoke over the top of whatever Emily was saying, thinking about her own kids around the same age, “there’s no need to be so shy, it’s not like you have anything worth covering yet… in a few years, maybe, when you’ve developed a bit…”

‘Mom mode’ fully engaged, Helen easily pulled Emily’s outstretched hand from the seat it was resting against and started tugging her along the aisle… continuing her rant about the evils of the tween and teenage years, the perils of trying to grow up too fast, and other such nonsense that Emily could 'look forward to' over the coming years.

The woman was strong. Emily had little choice but to follow, unless she was ok with being dragged along the floor. OK, maybe Helen wouldn’t go that far, but it was a risk Emily didn’t want to take. She crouched over to make herself small, hand clamped over her kitty, hiding as much as she possibly could as she waddled along behind the flight attendant.

Head down with her chin pressed to her chest, Emily felt like she could barely breathe, her face flamed brilliant red from the mixture of anger and humiliation she was feeling. All thoughts of forgiveness forgotten as they travelled further along the cabin, accompanied by the ceaseless monologue; Emily wondered how this woman dared do this to her?

Anger was quickly displaced by shame as they climbed some stairs to the very top of the plane. Emily stumbled over the top step, briefly distracted by the wide-open space she’d just entered… surprised that such a space even existed, landing on her knees in front of a smartly dressed man about her dad’s age.

His eyes flicked over her body, taking in her nakedness, the tear tracks staining her face, her heaving chest. Emily blushed crimson, frozen by his gaze and his lecherous grin.

Helen pulled her roughly to her feet, pulling her past the man, indifferent to the crowd’s incredulous stares, "Don't mind us," she called out, "just passing through."

All conversation around her died so completely that Emily thought she would’ve have been able to hear a pin drop, if it weren’t for the engines or the blood rushing through her ears that is. Every head swivelled to watch the naked girl’s progress. She could feel their eyes burning into her back as she passed, could hear their laughs and their cruel mockery as they shamelessly discussed her body.

Helen dragged her through the lounge and past rows of enormous seats to the very front of the plane trailed by a few curious passengers, stopping only when they could go no further.

“There, we’re here,” Helen announced smugly, “and don’t you feel silly over all that fuss… I doubt anybody even noticed!”

Emily didn't know where to start, "I can't believe... What are you... How can you just..." she spluttered, struggling to get a complete sentence out, “You doubt…? Who the fuck are they then?” She finally demanded, anger and humiliation clear in her voice, turning to wave at the small crowd of very happy looking men who’d followed them.

The guy from the stairs was there, of course, right at the front of the crowd showing brilliant white teeth in a perfect smile as he ran his eyes over her body again. Emily felt about six inches tall when his gaze drifted past her chest without so much as a moment’s pause, coming to rest a little lower.

Somebody coughed, breaking the moment, and his eyes snapped back to hers. He actually had the nerve to wink and give her a little wave, talking to himself as he turned away from the glaring girl.

“...tty cun…” She didn’t catch it all, but as the fragment registered an icy chill spread down Emily’s back.

‘No, no, no, not again,’ she thought as she looked down. She’d let her temper get the better of her, she realised, and flashed the crowd of perverts. She whirled back round, her free hand flying back to cover her poor exposed kitty, her fiery blush spreading from her face down past her chest, evidence of her growing mortification plain for all to see.

Helen stood speechless for a change; her eyes crinkled in confusion as she looked on, almost as if she couldn’t understand why anyone would have any interest in the naked girl in their midst! The cough snapped her mind back to the problem at hand.

"Umm," she glanced around, looking taken aback by the way they appeared to be ogling the girl in her charge, "you, uhh, gentlemen should, uhh, get back to your seats," she finished weakly, looking over the heads of the assembled group and waving, not quite frantically, someone over, “Timmy, if you would.”

Helen let out a relieved sigh. Some of the passengers had grumbled, but they’d all started walking back before Timmy had to get involved. She dropped Emily’s hand to give him a grateful pat on the shoulder, "Thanks sweetie,” she said, “I think we'll be ok now. Grab your shower Emily, be quick – you’ll only get water for five minutes, ‘k?”

Emily didn’t need to be told twice, locking the door behind her without looking back she only caught Timmy’s first few words before the bathroom door cut her off from the outside world.

It wasn’t long before Emily stood dripping in the small shower stall, biting her lip in frustration. The minty shower gel the airline stocked smelled great and was very, umm, refreshing… it had her kitty purring and her poor titties tingling in seconds. An itch she was dying to scratch but, she wondered, should she, could she…

She hadn’t played with herself since the party, the memories of that weekend still haunted her, made her terribly ashamed and disgusted with herself. But the heat and the mint felt so good, and she was truly alone here. Her stepmother couldn’t accidentally wander in and catch her in the act this time, wouldn’t be there to follow through with her threats.

Emily blushed thinking how naughty it would be to do it here at thirty thousand feet, as her fingers brushed against a rapidly stiffening nipple without any conscious thought on her part. A low moan slipped past her lips as the other hand dipped to pet the cat. Her breath grew ragged as her fingers fluttered rapidly against her sensitive little clitty, her legs trembled and her back arched, pushing her further into the pulsing spray.

Her hips bucked as a tidal wave of sensation started spreading from her groin, she was close, oh so close. Her kitty was purring so loudly now any worries that someone outside might hear were forgotten. She screamed as the hot water clicked off, icy cold spray splashed over her thighs and her exposed sex, collapsing against the stall wall as she came harder than ever before.

"Oww!" she mumbled, her hand flopping away from her kitty on a noodle like arm, trying to reach the back of her head. Little bolts of pleasure and pain continued shooting through her core until the water cut off completely leaving her breathing hard, satisfied and completely spent.

“Well,” a man’s voice echoed in the tiny room, “I guess I don’t have to ask if you enjoyed the shower.”

A little yelp escaped her lips when the words reached her ears through her endorphin haze. Her knees only twitched when she tried to push them together leaving her splayed out in front of a man her eyes were struggling to find.

Her head flopped forward when gentle hands lifted her out of the shower, shiny shoes and black pant legs swam in front of her eyes as she trembled in fear, the realisation that she’d been caught playing with herself slowly settling in. And by a man no less!

"Come on now,” he said softly, wrapping a towel around her, “no need for tears… let’s just get you dried and presentable.”

He continued, treating her like a wounded animal ready to strike out. Moving slowly, talking to her softly as he dried and started dressing her, “Hush now, you’re fine,” he said, “I’m just glad you wasn’t hurt… when I heard you scream like that…” he rapidly changed the subject when he felt her stiffen, “but, it doesn’t matter, here we go, got you moved up here, thought you could use a change of scenery…” he continued as he half led, half carried Emily back into the first class cabin.

If her eyes had been open Emily would have been impressed by the size of the bed she was lowered onto but, emotionally and physically exhausted, and soothed by man’s gentle voice she was asleep before her head hit the pillow.

Witch chapter was she drugged in i cant seem to find that part

Legoman2 wrote: Tue Oct 31, 2023 1:49 am Witch chapter was she drugged in i cant seem to find that part

It was supposed to be supposition (although true) by the character... needle prick in the butt at the airport, wakes up on plane, confusion, dry mouth, headache/hangover type feelings...

From the end of scene 5, "A sharp prick in the butt snagged Emily's attention for just a moment, before everything faded to black"... start of 6 she's on the plane.

Ahhh thanks i was confused sorry i got excited for a humiliating drugged chapter lol

I wont make any promises, but she's got a long road ahead of her (absent life getting in the way!).... but I can see where that could happen (something hallucinogenic at a party, reaction to strange foreign food/climate, or even medical maybe - we all know how loopy people can get with an anaesthetic)... or even in flashback to the 'infamous' party she keeps referring back to.

Now im really excited lol

[Note]Nothing medical yet [/Note]

Emily Jane stretched out languidly, momentarily content. She didn’t know how long she’d slept, but she loved waking up slowly like this, warm and comfortable – not that it'd happened recently. Once, she would’ve quite happily spent her summer mornings hidden away from the world until her stomach or, more likely, her bladder forced her to move but these days she was more likely to wake up tired and slicked in sweat from a restless night, haunted by her memories and worries over facing those girls again.

She’d been ecstatic when the news came through, she’d done it, got away from those bitches and whatever else they’d had planned for her. Her gentle smile faded as she remembered the hell the trip had been so far. Not for the first time she wondered if escaping had been worth the price she’d paid, images from yesterday flashed through her mind bringing a grimace to her face, bouncing from the airport to the plane, and back again, before settling on that final indignity.

She could picture the flight attendant’s face in perfect clarity as he’d been forced to dress her like a little kid when he’d caught her, unable to stand, masturbating in the shower. After he’d been so kind to her too! It should have been beyond mortifying… and it was but, last night she’d been too tired – completely drained both physically and emotionally – to do more than numbly follow his instructions before falling into a deep, dreamless sleep. Now, however, it was all she could think about.

She felt so dirty, so ashamed – the familiar stiff, padded feeling down there letting her know that he’d diapered her… at least it was dry! Knowing that she’d have to face the cabin crew sooner or later, she didn’t want to open her eyes to face the new day - how could she? She felt awful and, she knew, she had no-one to blame but herself - she just couldn’t resist… and if she deserved this, she thought, spiralling into self-recrimination, perhaps she deserved some of the other things that had happened to her.

Her stomach twisted in a nervous knot as she thought, making her feel like she wanted to throw up - If only if she hadn’t been so clumsy back at the airport, she hadn’t been so stupid in accepting that creepy boy’s stupid wager, if… if… if… Then she wouldn’t have been trapped in a diaper and been paraded through the plane for everyone to see! The thoughts fluttered round her head driving her insane as she slowly convinced herself that everything she’d gone through had been her own damned fault.

She was so caught up in her thoughts that the sudden rumbling noises emanating from her stomach startled her. Blushing furiously, certain that the unflattering noises would have been heard far and wide, she checked the time… a little after five AM, and four whole hours until the breakfast service! It’d been hours since she last ate - judging by the noise, her stomach obviously thought her throat had been cut! Knowing she couldn’t wait that long, she resigned herself to begging for something to snack on from the cabin crew.

Her finger paused halfway to the call button. Reluctant, in case he answered… maybe, she thought, she had something in her carry-on? Looking down at her long, bare legs she grabbed the blanket and wrapped it round her waist – it wasn’t exactly high fashion, but the improvised wrap skirt covered her and left her feeling slightly more confident as she crept past still sleeping passengers back towards her original seat and the overhead bin holding her bag.

She stood frozen in indecision, staring at the sleeping face of the little shit who’d tormented her from the moment she woke up on this plane. How, she wondered, could she have forgotten he would be here right under her bag… ‘Damn it,’ she quietly chided herself, not liking the alternatives any better, ‘just get it and go you chicken!”

The soft snick of the latch opening and hiss of fabric sliding over plastic sounded loud in her ears. She glanced down nervously, not wanting to face him again, but having to check. It looked like he was still dead to the world. He didn’t even twitch when, she had to give the door a little extra push to get it to snap shut. Breathing a relieved sigh, she gave him one more look, before strolling off back towards the first-class cabin.

She was passing the silent, curtained off galley area when she felt her bag being knocked out of her hands. The shove that swiftly followed knocked her to her knees as she stumbled through the curtain into the dimly lit space beyond. What the actual… a hand pressed over her mouth before she could scream.

“Shush,” a familiar voice hissed as her makeshift skirt was ripped from her waist, “I’m sure you don’t want even more people seeing you like this…”

Emily Jane seethed, trembling with rage from the sneak attack. Deft fingers quickly moved to the diaper’s Velcro fastening drowning her anger in panic when the first rip sounded. When one side of the diaper dropped loose her heartrate exploded, adrenalin flooded her system as she reflexively attempted to get free.

“…stop struggling, dammit, do I have your attention yet?” he demanded in a commanding tone, dangling a phone in front of her face, “Yes, See that? You lost, but I’m gonna give you another chance at… uh uh,” he said, easily lifting it out of her reach as she clawed at the device, “here’s what’s going to happen, I’ll give it to you, let you delete anything you want from it if you beg me for that spanking I owe you, or…”

His voice trailed off letting the squirming girl fill in the blanks for herself. It worked when his parents did it to him, he figured, so let her come up with her own alternatives, something that’d make a spanking seem the better option. Just one little push and he was sure she’d be all his… “I’ll even let you hold the phone but,” he chuckled, “I won’t help you unlock it until I’m finished.”

Emily froze, his words echoing in her mind, the images of her on his phone fresh in her mind, the shame that would follow being found out. She didn’t want to ask for a spanking, but she could imagine the alternative - her stepmother would find out everything, she was sure, and the girls at school.... Something else they'd have to hold over her. The shame that would follow her return home, the endless taunting and teasing from the other kids, the chance, no, the certainty they’d demand a repeat performance.

Or worse, what if this followed her into the program, if it did her life would simply fall apart. She had to delete the pictures, erase any possibility of being discovered, and a spanking would be nothing, would heal by morning – photos would stay with her forever. She nodded reluctantly, eyes closed, too ashamed to watch, too afraid to see if he was laughing at her as she gave up.

The phone dropped in front of her, she grabbed it, holding it like a life preserver in a stormy sea as the hand pulled away from her mouth and the other side of her diaper was released. She held her breath expectantly, waiting for the pain… waiting… he was taking too long, what was he doing back there?

She opened her eyes looking back hopefully, wondering if he was just stringing her along with some cruel prank. Her eyes met his and he smiled. A loud slap echoed in the small space; Emily Jane had to stifle a shriek as heat blossomed over one side of her backside.

“Well,” he prompted eventually, “aren’t you going to do it right?”

She looked at him blankly, confusion written plainly across her face.

“Are you stupid or something?” he asked, thinking back to his favourite stories from a certain website, “Do it properly, count…” he said, slapping the same spot again.

“One,” Emily Jane squeaked out, dejectedly, dropping her eyes from the glee she could see spreading over his face.

“Do it properly,” he said, repeating the blow again, “Count, and thank me….”

“One, uhh, th… thank y-y-you,” Emily stuttered out, face turning a similar shade to the left side of her butt.

“Thank you,” slap, “sir…” he corrected, wondering how far he’d be able to push the little girl.

“One, thank y-y-you sir,” she groaned to herself, head dropping in shame as she wondered what was wrong with her. Sure, she’d agreed to this, out of desperation, but why was she letting him add this extra humiliation, wasn’t the spanking enough for the little pervert?

Tears threatened after a few more slaps but she was determined not to give him the satisfaction. Her stubbornness didn’t go unnoticed however, the next smack hit her lower, catching her off guard as his fingers brushed against the edges of her kitty, drawing a startled yelp from her lips.

“Eight, fanku, shur” Her words slurred together as the pain spreading through her rump, snot and tears flowed freely as her backside danced, unsuccessfully trying to avoid his hand. Emily lost count as blows continued raining down, eventually breaking her resolve to take it silently. Screaming, defeated, she fell limp to the floor.

She didn’t even notice that the spanking had stopped, or the startled gasps of the cabin crew who’d rushed in, pushing past the boy to gather round her prone form. A blanket soon landed over her lower half and water splashed on her face, quickly drawing her back to the present.

Her tormentor stood there leering at her, his arm held by an angry looking giant of a man who appeared to be arguing with a flight attendant.

“Wait!” Emily croaked out when it appeared he was preparing to drag the boy off. Her world shrunk down to a single pinpoint, and a single purpose. The phone still held tightly in her hand…

“Wait, you promised,” she sniffed waving the phone in his general direction, feeling braver with witnesses around, “you got what you wanted, now you have to help me get rid of those pictures you took…”

“You, what,” The man’s voice demanded, dripping menace as he turned the boy to look at him, “blackmailed her? You’re in so much trouble young man…”

“Worth it,” the insufferable bastard interrupted, “just pay her off already, I’m bored now.”

“But,” Emily begged, “I did what you wanted… just tell me how…”

“Oh, I know pet… it was fun but,” he smirked, twisting out of the man’s grip, “sorry, not sorry, that’s not even my phone. Carl…”

The bottom dropped out of Emily’s stomach as she watched her tormentor walk away without a backward glance. The phone fell forgotten from numb fingers as the realisation that he’d tricked her slowly percolated through her racing thoughts. This was bad. This was so very bad.

Beautiful chapter cant wait for more