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THE AFTER SCHOOL PUNISHMENT

(This story does not contain any sexual reference to anyone under the age of consent, nor does the subject of 'Regression' have anything to do with real Babies or young persons.)

This story was written by Billy Blaze, If you have any comments please feel free to contact me at... [email protected].

Other stories I have written are...
The Imprisonment.
Teacher's Punishment.
Teacher's Pet.
Tricked Into Nappies.

Sam stepped tentatively towards the house, it was a large brick house set back from a narrow leafy lane. The block stone driveway sprawled out in front of him in the late afternoon sun.

He paused at the door, not wanting to ring the bell, he was completely oblivious as to what was going to happen to him but he knew he wasn't going to like it. From behind him came the far off distant noises of children playing in the park, and he felt a 'Pang' of frustrated anger that he wasn't there playing with them. Sam reluctantly rang the bell and waited...

Miss Stanton was setting up a school desk in her study when the doorbell rang. She glanced up at the clock, pushed the chair in and casually walked to the hallway, stopping to look at herself in the mirror first. She certainly looked the part, her chestnut brown hair was pulled into a ponytail, her pencil skirt was wrapped tightly around her curvy hips and her shiny white blouse was tucked in, her large breasts pressing against the silk. She straightened herself and opened the door.

"Come in." She said, "You must be Sam?"

Sam nodded and entered, head bowed in a mixture of shame and annoyance. He didn't deserve to be here, but his teacher had had enough of him this week and now he was to endure two hours of homework or lessons or something like that. Sam sighed in protest like all teenagers do. Miss Stanton took the envelope and the bag from his grasp and led him towards the study.

"Take a seat at the desk Sam while I read this please," She said, tearing open the envelope as she settled into her seat at her desk.

"And start with the sums on page 1."

Sam opened the first page and sighed again as a whole page of sums lay before him. He looked up at Miss Stanton. She was quite pretty for a teacher, he could see her green eyes through her stylish black glasses scanning the letter, her eye lashes coated in a thick layer of mascara. All of a sudden they were pointing his way over the top of her glasses.

"C'mon Sam," she said.

"You're not here to daydream."

Miss Stanton looked down at the letter, she was enjoying this, she was very good at treating unruly children, and even though she had only known Sam for a few minutes, she felt that she had him right in the palm of her hand. She felt in total control and was very aware that her beauty gave her power. She read on.

Sam starred blankly at the page of sums spread out before him. It was his least favourite subject and all the numbers seemed to blend into one mass of numbers and squiggles. He sighed again and proceeded to try and calculate the first few sums.

But then, after only a few minutes Miss Stanton stood up from her desk and casually walked over to where Sam was sitting.

"Sam you can put your pen down now," She said.

"No more sums for you, I have something far better."

Sam looked up at her smiling face. There was something behind that smile that he didn't quite trust.

"It's time to begin your punishment."

Sam's heart leapt up into his throat as he watched Miss Stanton pick up a chair and place it in the middle of the room. His brain was working overtime wondering what was going to happen.

Miss Stanton then walked over to him and announced that it was time for his spanking.

"What Miss?" He said shakily.

"I'm going to spank you Sam," She continued. Her bright eyes pierced right into his so deeply he felt a shudder down his spine.

"I'm going to place you over my knee and give your bare bottom a good hard spanking."

Before Sam had time to fully take in what she had said, she had taken him by the hand and pulled him up from his chair. He was so shocked he was stunned to silence.

Miss Stanton led him over to the waiting chair. Sam tried to pull in the other direction as he began to realize what was going to happen. Slowly his imagination began to paint a vivid picture in his mind and a feeling of dread crept over him like a cold blanket.

Miss Stanton stood him by the chair and turned to face him.

"Now lets get you undressed shall we?" She said as her delicate fingers began to unbutton his shirt. Sam looked down as his shirt began to open.

"No Miss, Please," He said, almost in a whisper.

"Can't I just do sums instead?"

"No Sam." She replied, as she pulled his shirt over his shoulders and then down his outstretched arms.

Sam watched her slowly fold his shirt and place it gently onto her desk. Then she turned and knelt down in front of him and began to remove his shoes.

"Please Miss," He said shakily.

"I don't mind, I think I'd rather do sums or lines or something. Please?" He felt a cold dank horror rise up through his body as Miss Stanton relentlessly continued to undress him.

Miss Stanton removed his shoes and socks and placed them on the floor by her desk. Then without so much as a pause, she turned around and reached for the clasp of his grey school trousers and popped them undone. Sam's horror and frustrations welled up inside him.

No Miss, Please!" He whimpered urgently, his heart was pounding in his chest as his trousers and pants were already being pulled down over his hips.

"Sshh, you're such a baby," She replied as she pulled his trousers down his legs.

"This is why you're here, you've been acting like a baby so you're being treated like one!"

She lifted his feet in turn, quickly and efficiently removed his trousers from under him, stood up and placed them neatly on her desk.

Sam was standing head bowed with his hands instinctively covering his modesty. His mind was in shock, a few seconds ago he was sitting at a desk doing sums and now he was standing there totally naked in a strange house with a woman he had never met before.

Miss Stanton sat down on the chair and taking Sam's hand pulled him towards her waiting lap. Sam pulled against her grip, his bare feet pressing down onto the carpet.

"Do you have to spank me Miss?" He asked, his voice shaky and tense.

"Yes Sam," She replied.

"You're here to be punished, so come on..." And she tightened her grip on his hand and pulled him forward.

Sam started to whimper as he was pulled forwards. His knees stopped against her legs but she continued to pull him so that he was forced to fall forwards over her lap.

Sam gripped the chair legs with his hands as Miss Stanton expertly maneuvered him into a position to spank him. The moments seemed agonizingly slow as Miss Stanton shuffled in her chair to get comfortable, her left hand pressing down against the small of his back.

Miss Stanton looked down at Sam's bare bottom. She was an expert at this. She knew just how to 'ring out' every ounce of humiliation and embarrassment for the pupils that were sent to her. She knew that spending a few more minutes getting comfortable was a prolonged 'Agony' for the naked boy spread across her lap. She revelled in the fact that Sam would be close to tears even before the spanking had started.

She gently ran her hand over his smooth skin letting those agonising seconds tick on. She could feel his heart beat pumping hard in his chest. She could hear his whimpering grow louder as she gently stroked his bottom.

Then she tightened her grip on him with her left hand and began to spank him. Sharp stinging slaps came down hard onto his bottom, Sam screwed his face up tightly and bit his lip, his feet kicked and he tried to struggle free as the spanking continued.

Sam's humiliation and the pain and shock of being spanked became too much and he began to cry out.

After a few minutes Miss Stanton stopped and rested her hand upon his reddening bottom.

"Are you going to be a good boy Sam?" she said.

"Yes Miss." He replied through heavy breaths.

"You've been acting like a baby this week haven't you?" She continued.

Sam didn't reply, he continued to wriggle and fidget on her lap, desperately fighting the urge to reach behind him and rub his bottom. Miss Stanton then began to spank him again.

"Yes Miss." He quickly replied.

"And how do we treat Babies Sam?" She asked as she continued to spank him.

Sam didn't know how to answer. The question had caught him off guard and baffled him. Miss Stanton increased the strength of her slaps making him struggle and writhe, his brain searching for an answer.

"I, I don't know Miss." He choked, tears welling up in his eyes.

Miss Stanton stopped his spanking again, bringing her hand to rest gently on his bottom, and circling it with her fingernail.

"Come on Sam," She said.

"How do we treat naughty boys who want to be babies?" Miss Stanton's lips stretched to a wry smile at the thought of telling him her plans for the rest of his punishment.

Again, Sam was confused. He couldn't think, he was sure that giving no answer would result in more slaps but he didn't know what to say. His bottom was really stinging now, he searched desperately for an answer but none came. Finally...

"Spanking Miss." He blurted, hoping that his answer would release him from his torment.

"That's right Sam," She said.

"But not just spanking, your teacher Miss Grant said in her letter that you have been particularly naughty so I think we need to do a little more than just spanking don't you?"

Sam's mind was in a whirl, he genuinely didn't know how to answer and just remained in his position fidgeting and squirming.

"I think it's about time you were treated like the proper baby you are," She continued.

"So after I have finished spanking your bare bottom, it's on with your nappy and then I'll put you to bed!" And with that she began to spank him again.

Sam's heart leapt up into his mouth as the echo of those words hung heavy in the air. He struggled and writhed on her lap as her hand continued to slap his already sore bottom.

"Ouch! No Miss, please! Nooo! I'll be good honest!" He cried with real desperation.

The horror of his punishment gradually became clear in his mind. He fought desperately to break free but Miss Stanton's grip on him tightened as the spanking continued. Tears began to well up in his eyes, the futility of his situation and the feeling of helplessness enveloped him.

Finally the spanking stopped. Miss Stanton reached down to a small pot of cold Nivea cream and applied some to Sam's glowing bottom. Sam felt exhausted and could only manage a small whimper as Miss Stanton rubbed the cream into his skin.

"There I bet that feels nice doesn't it?" She cooed, as she slowly rubbed some more cream over his bottom, his skin red and warm to the touch.

Sam was close to tears now. The softness of her voice gave an indication that he was now being treated as a baby. Once more his imagination flashed images in his mind of the humiliation that was to follow.

Miss Stanton gently helped Sam to his feet. He felt light headed as the blood drained from his head. She took his hand and led him towards the door. Sam's humiliation became unbearable as he was led out of the room. His exposure felt so much more intense by the fact that Miss Stanton was fully clothed, a fact that she was fully aware of.

Sam looked up at the door they were approaching and saw a small painted sign in pink letters, which read, 'Nursery' and began once more to protest.

"No Miss!" He sobbed.

"Please no!"

Miss Stanton ignored his pleas and opened the door. Sam tried in vain to pull in the other direction but Miss Stanton's grip was too strong. Sam looked in horror as he was almost dragged into the room. There in the corner was a large white changing table. It had a colourful padded mat on the top and had lots of drawers. Over by the window was a large white cot with bars all around. Inside it was a mattress covered in a clear plastic sheet.

Over in the other corner was what looked like a playpen, it too had bars and scattered on the padded floor were various teddies and toys.

"Hop up onto here please Sam," Said Miss Stanton patting the changing mat with her hand. Sam looked up searchingly into her pretty green eyes.

"Please Miss," He said softly.

"I don't want to... Please, can't I just..."

"No Sam." She replied.

"C'mon, hop up onto here please, it's time for your nappy."

Sam stood rigid with horror, his voice breaking as the tears began to flow.

"But it's not fair," He cried. His sense of unstoppable humiliation began to rise up into a feeling of sheer panic.

"I'm not a baby Miss, please! I don't want to wear a nappy!"

"Don't be silly Sam!" She snapped.

"You ARE a baby and therefore you will be treated accordingly! Now hop up onto here so I can put you into your nappy! Otherwise I will spank you again!"

Sam couldn't move, it was all too much and he started to sob as the panic took hold. Suddenly Miss Stanton placed her hands around his waist and lifted him up onto the changing table. The plastic coated mat was cold against his bare bottom. She took hold of his legs and swung his feet round to the end of the mat.

"Lay down for me there's a good boy." She said as she gently pushed his shoulders down.

Sam's cries and sobs grew more intense as the futility of his predicament sank in. Miss Stanton was in full control now. There was no escape. There seemed to be no way of stopping what was happening, everything he tried and every plea fell on deaf ears. Frustration and panic poured out of him. He banged his feet up and down on the changing mat and sobbed hard.

"I think Baby needs his dummy." She exclaimed, and proceeded to open up one of the drawers of the changing table. She took out a large blue babies dummy and slipped it onto her finger.

"There we are," She said as she brought the rubber nipple to his lips and guided it into his mouth.

Sam felt the soft rubber nipple fill his mouth and began to suck on it, his face red and puffy and streaked with tears.

Miss Stanton smiled as she looked at Sam lying there before her sucking his dummy. It was strange, a dummy always worked. Despite the fact that it would increase the humiliation a dummy always had a calming effect on her pupils.

She always enjoyed administering this part of her punishment. She enjoyed the spanking but there was nothing to compare to having a pupil completely at her mercy, lying there naked and fully exposed on top of the changing table ready to be dressed in his or her nappy. She was an expert, and she was highly regarded among the teaching fraternity. She had a real knack at making her pupils feel utterly defeated and humiliated. So much so that they were beaten to submission, they were taken to the depths of their fears until they succumbed and relented, giving themselves up and surrendering to her utterly.

Sam continued to suck on his dummy as Miss Stanton placed a bottle of baby powder next to him. The fear in him was making his senses work overtime. His watery eyes were scanning all around him. He could feel the air in the room all around his naked body. He could feel his heart pounding heavily in his chest. He could smell the sweet perfume of the baby powder. His mouth was filled with the gentle taste of latex as he sucked. He heard another drawer being opened and then heard the sound that brought a hot flush of dread rippling through his spine.

Miss Stanton had pulled out a fresh new shiny white disposable nappy and was unfolding it. The plastic coating rustled loudly as she opened it up and placed it at Sam's feet.

Sam looked down to see Miss Stanton twist the top of the powder bottle releasing a small puff of white powder into the air. He tensed himself in readiness, his heart pounding so heavy now that it seemed to make his entire body shake. Surely this wasn't happening? How could he have ended up in this position?

Sam flopped his head back onto the pillow and squeezed his eyes tight shut, trying to block out the horror of it all. He let out a long whimpering moan as Miss Stanton gently moved his hands away from between his legs, which he had placed there instinctively to cover his modesty. But once again his imagination betrayed him. Pictures of what Miss Stanton must be looking at flashed into his mind causing a wave of humiliation, which washed through his body.

He could hold back no more. And as Miss Stanton began to sprinkle layers of baby powder between his legs he began to wriggle and cry huge gulping sobs.

"Sshh. There, there." She cooed sympathetically, as she continued to sprinkle fine layers of baby powder over him.

"Soon be done. Then as soon as we get you into a nice fresh nappy we'll put you in your cot where you can have a nice snooze and forget all about it."

Her tone was a carefully selected mix or softness, caring and sarcasm. It was an art she had taken years to perfect, and made her pupils feel loved and secure, but also reminded them that it was above all a punishment... And one they couldn't avoid.

Miss Stanton then instructed Sam to lift his feet up.

"C'Mon Sam I need to powder your bottom." She said, giving his foot a tap.

Sam couldn't move. He was paralyzed with the humiliation of it all. He just couldn't comprehend what was happening.

"Sam!" Miss Stanton repeated.

"If you don't lift your feet up I will place you across my knee again and give you the spanking of your life and keep you here in nappies for a week."

Sam turned his face away and did as he was told, knowing that his most private regions were now in full view. Miss Stanton sprinkled the whole area with a liberal amount of powder before sliding the nappy under him.

Miss Stanton guided his feet back down onto the changing mat, making sure that they were spread apart to accommodate his nappy. Sam was wriggling and fidgeting as she took hold of the nappy with both hands and pulled it up between his legs. The plastic rustled loudly as she brought it up to his waist.

The room was filled with the loud rustling sounds of the nappy as Sam squirmed and wriggled in protest while Miss Stanton was securing the tapes.

"Sshh, keep still Sam, there's a good boy." She said as she tore open the tapes and pulled the nappy tightly around him.

Sam sucked hard on his dummy and kicked his legs in frustration as he felt the nappy envelope him. It seemed to fill the area between his legs, the plastic sides sliding against his inner thighs. He felt it tighten around his waist as Miss Stanton finally fastened the tapes, pressing them down with her fingers.

Sam lay there on top of the changing table, his nappy thick and shiny, rustling softly as he wriggled and squirmed. Miss Stanton began to adjust and fiddle with his nappy. She tested the tightness by pulling at the elastic waistband, then ran her fingers around the legs, pulling at the elastic. She knew all too well that all these adjustments were piling on the humiliation.

Putting a teenager in nappies was for her a truly overwhelming feeling of control. There he was lying there on top of a changing table, a dummy in his mouth wearing a baby's nappy, defenceless, humiliated, vulnerable.

The scene before her she had seen many times. They always cried, always protested, and she always enjoyed it.

Being regressed to babyhood is so overwhelmingly demeaning. It takes away every sense of freedom. The pupil is reduced to nothing, taking them right back to a time where they were totally helpless, and completely reliant on someone for their every need, every aspect of it totally and utterly humiliating...

Having your clothes removed.

Having a dummy inserted into your mouth, taking away all speech.

Being naked and totally exposed in front of a fully clothed woman.

Being powdered and dressed in a nappy.

Being put to bed, all these things added together to make the pupil completely compliant and restrained, all thoughts and liberties taken away. Even the nappy itself was enough to break a pupil, the way it fits around you, the way it rustles with every move, the thickness between your legs giving you a pronounced 'Waddle' when you walk. It is impossible to ignore, and a constant reminder that you are now a baby.

Miss Stanton smiled down at the helpless boy lying there before her, squirming and wriggling as though he were in the middle of a bad dream, and sighed contentedly to herself. Sam opened his eyes and attempted to sit up but Miss Stanton placed a hand on his shoulder preventing him.

"I haven't finished with you yet Sam." She said. Then she opened another drawer and took out a pair of pink see-through plastic pants. Sam let out another stifled whimper of protest before flopping back down on the changing mat. There just didn't seem to be an end to this torment and he kicked and squirmed and wriggled even more as Miss Stanton held up the plastic pants and shook them out.

Sam looked down in horror as she stretched open the leg holes with her fingers and guided them toward his feet. Crying harder now, he tried desperately to stop his feet going through them.

"No Please!" He cried, his nappy rustling loudly as he frantically wriggled and kicked his feet. Ignoring the fact that Sam had removed his dummy, Miss Stanton expertly slipped his feet through the leg holes and began pulling them up his legs.

Sam's frustrations boiled over yet again and he violently kicked and squirmed as Miss Stanton pulled the plastic pants up and over his knees, the elastic slowly tightening around his legs as the pants were pulled higher.

"No Miss. Please no!" He squealed.

Miss Stanton continued to ignore him and pulled them up over his nappy releasing the elastic with a snap. The plastic was soft and 'Swished' against his nappy as they were smoothed out and adjusted.

"There we go," She said softly as she finished her adjustments.

"Now let's put you to bed."

Sam was spent. Miss Stanton took his hands and pulled him up into a sitting position. All the tears and upset had left him limp like a rag doll. All the pleading and begging had gone unhindered, leaving him defeated and demoralized and she had no trouble in dressing him in a little white T-Shirt, which came down just short of his nappy. Then she lifted him off of the changing table and led him over to the large white cot. Sam's nappy was so large and cumbersome that he literally 'Waddled' as he was led across the room.

Miss Stanton stood him beside the cot as she slid the sidebars away, revealing the mattress, which was covered in a clear plastic bed sheet. Then she patted him on his nappied bottom.

"Into your cot then Sam," She instructed, adding as much 'Motherly' sarcasm as she could.

Sam regained a little of his defiance as this new humiliation faced him.

"Please Miss," He whispered shakily.

"Do I have to go to bed now? It's only six o'clock."

"Yes Sam," She said.

"Babies need plenty of sleep."

"But it's not fair, I'm not a baby Miss." He replied, gaining a little more composure.

"Sam, you ARE a baby. And that is precisely why you are being treated like one." She said.

"Now come on please, into bed with you."

Sam felt like crying, yet again his protests were immediately ignored, there was just no way out, and the realization that every little plea and protest was futile was overwhelming. This was happening and he was completely powerless to stop it. And the problem was compounded by the fact that this intense frustration was making him so upset that he was acting exactly like a baby, giving Miss Stanton the justification in treating him this way.

Sam fought against the tantrum that was rising up in him as he slowly and awkwardly climbed into his cot. Miss Stanton gave him a gentle hand of guidance, and instructed him to lie down on his back. The mattress was covered in a plastic sheet that rustled softly as he laid down. Then Miss Stanton reached in and began to strap Sam's ankles into leather manacles that were connected to the end bars of the cot by lengths of cord. The cord was slack and allowed a little movement but not a lot, just enough for him to wriggle his legs slightly.

"These will make sure you're nice and safe." She said as she reached across and for his other foot.

Sam was exhausted and only managed a soft moan of protest as the buckles were tightened.

Next, his wrists were manacled in the same way. Miss Stanton taking the opportunity to tell Sam that he was a good baby as she buckled them in place. Finally when he was fully strapped in, she pulled a clear plastic bed sheet over him and folded the end over across his chest.

"There," She said as she tucked him in.

"Nice and cosy."

Sam lay there in the cot gently struggling against his bonds trying to get comfortable, the layers of plastic crinkling and rustling as he moved, his nappy and pink plastic pants clearly visible underneath.

He looked up to see Miss Stanton connecting a frame of ceiling bars to the top of his cot above his head. He noticed that there was something attached to the centre of the bars directly above him as Miss Stanton slotted the frame into each corner. At first he thought it was a light bulb, but then to his surprise realised that it was a very large dummy.

He was just wondering why a baby's dummy would be attached to the bars when he suddenly heard a 'Click' 'Click' 'Click' 'Click' sound near his feet. It was Miss Stanton slowly turning a small wheel that was connected to the cot.

Then to his horror he realized that the ceiling bars were gradually getting lower, each 'Click' of the wheel bringing them slowly down on top of him. The cot had become a cage and the space inside was getting smaller as the ceiling gradually crept lower and lower. A feeling of fear welled up inside him as Miss Stanton continued to turn the wheel, the bars now only a foot or so above him.

Sam felt uneasy and began to squirm and wriggle making the plastic sheets rustle loudly. He was unsure about what was happening to him, and wondered how far Miss Stanton was going to lower the bars. He felt intensely vulnerable restrained as he was, and began looking around him with a slight sense of fear as Miss Stanton continued to turn the wheel. He looked up and saw that the bars were now a lot closer, and then noticed that the large dummy that was attached to the bars was now just a few inches above him. And then, slowly, almost as slowly as the bars were being lowered, it dawned on him why the dummy was there and where it was heading. Panic rushed through his body at the thought of it.

"No Miss." He said, his eyes staring at the dummy as it slowly headed towards him.

"Just lie still Sam, and let the dummy go into your mouth." Instructed Miss Stanton, as the shiny rubber teat was slowly nearing it's target. Sam gasped in horror at the realization of what was happening. He kicked and squirmed against his restraints but it was no use, he couldn't move. 'Click' 'Click' 'Click' went the wheel as the ceiling crept ever lower.

"No Miss PLEASE!" He begged, as Miss Stanton continued to turn the wheel one click at a time. Sam's face was contorted in fear, his wide eyes transfixed on the dummy as it slowly descended. Sam pushed his head down onto the mattress. The dummy was now millimetres above his mouth.

"Open your mouth Sam." Repeated Miss Stanton as the dummy slowly and agonizingly crept closer and closer. The rubber nipple was now just brushing against his lips.

Sam kept his mouth closed and began to cry. He let out a stifled moan, wriggling and squirming violently against his restraints as the rubber nipple now began to slip slowly, millimetre by millimetre between his lips.

"Sam, open your mouth please," She commanded.

"I won't tell you again."

Sam could now feel the rubber pressing gently against his teeth, inching it's way into his mouth like an invasive tongue.

Sam let out a final whimpering moan of protest and obeyed, letting the large rubber teat slip into his mouth. It was a lot larger and stiffer than the dummy he had had earlier, within a few seconds his mouth was engorged with the taste and texture of latex as the dummy was lowered still further into his mouth.

Sam continued to struggle against his restraints as Miss Stanton slowly and carefully clicked the wheel just a few more times, she didn't want to make him gag, but she wanted the dummy to fill his mouth and prevent him from moving his head in any direction. When she felt that the dummy had slipped deep enough in, she stood up and began to lock the bars into place.

Sam cried softly as he lay there restrained in his cot. Miss Stanton looking down at him, surveying her handiwork. The huge dummy in his mouth pinning him down and preventing him from turning his head, and he could only move his arms and legs a fraction.

"Just lie still and try to relax," She said smiling down at him.

"You can't move so it's useless to try. Just lie there and be a good baby"

Sam continued to wriggle and cry at the futility of his position. He had no choice but to lie there and suck on his dummy. He felt totally retched and humiliated.

Miss Stanton reached her hand into the cot and pulled the plastic sheet back over him.

"Try to get some sleep Sam," She said warmly.

"You're going to be here for a while yet so you had better get comfortable." She slipped her hand under the covers and ran her finger across his plastic pants as she continued.

"I think you are a very cute little baby Sam, and I think that we are going to be seeing quite a lot of each other over the next few months. I'm going to recommend to your teacher that you visit me for punishment at least once a week, and possibly for the odd day here and there. Won't that be nice?"

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