Smart House - Chapter 11 (Patreon)

Brigid shuffled along helplessly, her teacher's hand on her shoulder, keeping her in place, stopping her from even having a hope of breaking free from the line of students to make a mad dash for the bathroom as they passed it. "Umm..." she squeaked meekly, heart pounding, the cruelty of seeing relief so close too much for her to take without making some sort of an effort. "S-Sir? C-Could I...?"

"Hush," he ordered. "There's no talking in the halls."

"What?" Brigid couldn't help herself.

"We are trying to get to class, not have a conversation. Children like you get distracted too easily, and things get noisy very quickly... So it's simplest to have no talking, unless it's absolutely necessary," he lectured, never slowing his stride, or having any difficulty keeping her moving along where he wanted.

This school really was strict, Brigid thought. She might as well be in a prison at this rate... It was hard enough to accept the idea that she was in school again at all, much less one like this. She'd put in her time getting an education, there was no need for her to go, especially not this far. And yet, here she was, trapped, being treated like a little girl...

And getting so, so close to filling her pants. It was so unfair! How could he refuse to let her go to the bathroom?! He couldn't hold her responsible for what happened now, right? If the worst happened - and she prayed it didn't - then surely he wouldn't get mad at her, wouldn't discipline her... Except, judging by what she'd seen so far, she had no doubt he would try. As a lawyer, she ought to be able to talk her way out of it, to show him the error of his ways... But she didn't feel particularly lawyer-y here, in her uniform, and that wouldn't improve if she did end up with a load of mush in her Pull-Ups.

She, of course, had no experience with that, and she was going to do whatever she could to keep it that way. Judging by how pitiful wetting her pants made her feel, however, how utterly infantile and helpless, she suspected she would be in no condition to defend herself after a messy accident. She definitely have trouble shifting into lawyer mode, if it didn't prove outright impossible.

If she did do that... Would she ever be able to make that switch again? How was she going to go back to her old, fancy suits - assuming Pat ever gave her access to them again - and act like a grown-up when she knew she had, not that long ago, squatted down and pooped her pants like a toddler? Wouldn't she spend her whole time in court thinking about that, worrying that the opposing counsel somehow knew, and was ready to pull that knowledge out at any time to prove to the judge why anything Brigid had to say was worthless. Nobody who would do that could be clever enough to know anything about law... People who did that were silly little babies, and nothing more.

Obviously, that meant she couldn't let that happen. How she was going to stop it, she had no clue, as, even as her head swam with those thoughts, she was being marched further and further away from the bathroom, and she'd already been told in no uncertain terms that she was no allowed to speak. She considered this necessary, but she wasn't sure Mr. Dorley would agree, or that he'd let her talk long enough to explain it in the first place.

"Here we are," Mr. Dorley declared, guaranteeing Brigid had no time to come up with a plan. "Class, go to your seats, please. Ms. Benson, come with me."

The rest of the class filed in and started sitting in the rows of desks, while Brigid was guided to the large one at the front of the room. Brigid did feel a small sense of calm seeing that her teacher for this class was a woman, hoping she'd take a bit more mercy on her than Mr. Dorley had. 

"Ms. Carrigan," Mr. Dorley addressed her. "This is Ms. Benson, our newest student." He let go of Brigid at last, with a gentle push towards Ms. Carrigan's desk.

"H-Hello, ma'am," Brigid nodded, some part of her feeling like she ought to curtsy, though, of course, she resisted, not wanting to do anything that involved lifting or moving her skirt, taking any risk of exposing her trainers.

"Hello, dear," Ms. Carrigan smiled down at her. "Aren't you cute?" 

A smile started to creep across Brigid's face; perhaps she was right about this woman, and her being better than Mr. Dorley. Maybe there were only certain teachers that were so strict, that had given the school its reputation... She blushed, realizing how pleased that made her, as if she was actually going to be spending any time in this place, as if she thought she was going to be enrolled full time from now on.

She couldn't resign herself to that fate... She had to get back to her job! Surely Carissa knew that, and she'd help her convince Pat... How was Carissa going to get paid if Brigid was going to school instead of work? She did have a decent savings, so it would be a while before it was an issue, but still... Then again, perhaps by that time, Carissa would have grown bored of tormenting her and moved on, leaving her to deal with that inevitability on her own.

"Uh, ma'am?" she swallowed, staring up at the teacher, shooting a quick glance over her shoulder to see that Mr. Dorley was on his way out, not paying attention now that he'd handed her over, as if he had some vested interest in keeping her from making it to the bathroom, rather than his rules simply conflicting with what she needed to do. "C-Could I go to the bathroom?" 

Her voice quieted on the last word, leaning in. It was silly - the other students, young as they were, would definitely be able to guess where she was going if she left - but she had a feeling, no matter how well-trained they were, they'd probably still be immature enough to giggle at hearing her say the word... And, in the moment, she felt too fragile for that, to let herself be laughed at for wanting to use the restroom.

Ms. Carrigan smiled, tilted her head to one side. "Class just started, dear," she said. "If you needed to go, why didn't you ask in homeroom?"

"I tried!" Brigid whined, stomping her foot in frustration.

"There's no need to get snippy at me," the teacher snapped at her, her sweetness melting away. "That kind of attitude will get you nowhere in this school, or in my classroom."

"I'm sorry!" Brigid told her. "I-I didn't mean... I was just..."

Ms. Carrigan softened again, slightly. "I'm sure you're nervous because of your first day," she said. "I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt that's all this is, anyway."

"Y-Yes, ma'am," Brigid nodded eagerly, not wanting to get in trouble, not thinking that it could be misinterpreted.

"Very good," Ms. Carrigan told her. "There's a seat right over there for you."

Brigid turned to look at where the woman was pointing automatically, then turned back towards her uncertainly. "O-Okay, but..."

"I promise you, the kids will be nice to you," Ms. Carrigan chuckled. "No need to be scared."

"Th-That's not it," Brigid shook her head. That was something to consider... She doubted the students who had been here longer would bully her in front of the teachers - and how humiliating was the idea of someone her age being bullied by a child in the first place? - but what about when they weren't looking? That definitely wasn't her most pressing concern, however. "Wh-What I said before..."

"We agreed, that's just nerves," Ms. Carrigan 'reminded' her. "Go on and sit."

Brigid furrowed her brow. "I-I didn't... Th-That wasn't..."

"Go sit," Ms. Carrigan ordered, standing up and leaning over her desk, sending her on her way with a pat on her lower back, too close to the padding of Brigid's Pull-Ups for comfort. Brigid stumbled forward, hands clenching anxiously as she walked. She glanced back desperately at Ms. Carrigan, who gestured encouragingly to the empty desk.

Reluctantly, Brigid lowered herself into it, adjusting her skirt as Ms. Carrigan began her class. It was, of course, very easy for someone Brigid's age, so it didn't even work to take her mind off of her problems, taking no concentration whatsoever, although she did get scolded as Ms. Carrigan strolled down the aisles to observe.

"I'm sure you can write neater than that," she scoffed. "It would help if you'd sit still."

That was a hard ask when Brigid's bottom was sore from her spanking, and begging harder and harder for relief with every passing moment. Her hand was pretty tired from all the lines she'd written, too, which surely didn't help... Nor did the distraction of wondering how she was going to be able to last all the way through this class without messing herself. Already, she'd had quite a few farts slip out, most of them confined to her padding. The last few had gotten louder, however, and had made her blush, pretending she didn't hear giggling behind her as she hoped nobody could tell they were coming from her.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," Brigid said. "I-It would help if I could get a hall pass..."

"Somebody has a lot of energy to burn off," Ms. Carrigan smiled. "Recess isn't that far off. You don't want to be caught running in the halls, believe me."

"I wouldn't!" Brigid promised, wishing she hadn't been too self-conscious to mention to bathroom in the first place. Maybe if she had, she would have gotten somewhere... Now the teacher thought she just wanted to get up and move around. Now that it had turned into a conversation, it was more embarrassing, she felt like more other students were watching...

But that didn't matter anymore. She let out a groan as another cramp hit, pushing her backside hard against the wooden seat of her desk, feeling dazed as she struggled to keep herself contained, positive she could feel that humiliating sticky spot in the seat of her Pull-Ups growing... "I-I hafta..."

"Just concentrate on what you're doing," Ms. Carrigan instructed. "I know it can be easy for little girls like you to get distracted. Think about what you're writing, and you'll be surprised how much nicer your writing looks."

"B-But...!" Brigid huffed, feeling on the verge of launching into the tantrum Ms. Carrigan had thought she was about to throw earlier. She didn't care what her handwriting looked like! She didn't care about this stupid class! All she cared about was getting to the bathroom, as quickly as she could. 

"Hush," Ms. Carrigan ordered, turning and walking back towards her desk. "We can work on that together later if we need."

Brigid watched her go, heart pounding in her chest. The teacher wasn't going to listen... She thought Brigid was just another silly little girl, too hyper for her own good, nothing more... So Brigid was going to have to take matters into her own hands. She took a deep breath, scooting over in her desk, eyeing the door on the other side of the classroom.

If she timed it right, if she waited for the perfect moment, she could get to it before Ms. Carrigan. The woman had much longer legs, and she probably wasn't dealing with being on the verge of messing herself, but Brigid was closer to the door, and if she picked the right time, she might have a precious few seconds before the teacher knew what was going on.

"Okay," she whispered, intending to say it to herself only, so flustered that she barely registered that it came out audibly as well. "Okay..." She'd seen Ms. Carrigan get out of her chair when she got up to walk among the other desks. Her chair swiveled, and she'd spun it around to get up, so it wasn't facing straight out at the class now. If Brigid waited for her to sit, before she turned it, she might have enough time to get moving before the woman saw her, and then she'd have to get back up.

It seemed like a good plan, yet she could still feel the pressure building up inside her, time almost slowing down as she watched the teacher move. She'd only get one shot at this... Whether Ms. Carrigan decided to discipline her even if she failed or not, she was confident a failure would mean it would be too late to wait for another opportunity. It might be too late already...

Almost as if she were in a dream, she felt herself starting to stand up, carefully lowering her foot to the floor, putting her weight on it, not wanting to make a sound that would cause Ms. Carrigan to turn around while she was still standing herself. It also meant lifting her backside off the seat beneath her, which felt risky... It would be a good start for her sprint, however, and that could be the difference between success and failure...

Ms. Carrigan was nearly to her desk now, the moment fast approaching. Brigid bit her lip, putting her other foot down, slowly standing up, fighting the urge to start then, worried that, if she did, she'd be tattled on. She could feel the eyes of the other students on her, saw them glancing at one another, wondering what was happening, if they should say something... Ms. Carrigan was going to hear her Mary Janes pattering against the linoleum when she really began to run anyway, so it wouldn't matter at that point, but if they opened their mouths now and ratted her out, that might be all it took for Ms. Carrigan to be able to catch her...

Finally, the teacher started to sit, and, the second Brigid saw her knees bending, her body beginning to collapse into the chair, she took off like a rocket. Far too soon, she heard a sharp, "What do you think you're doing, young lady?!" but she didn't let it stop her, didn't let herself wonder how close it was, what it meant for her escape. She had to keep going, to try.

When her hand closed around the door handle without feeling any on her own shoulder, or closing around her wrist, she thought, for the briefest moment, she'd done it, that she'd succeeded... When she attempted to turn the handle, however, it refused. "No!" she squealed, tears springing to her eyes. She was almost there! Panic threatened to overwhelm her as she jiggled it again. Should she just have sat there and pooped her Pull-Up in peace? At least then she wouldn't be in trouble on top of it, other than whatever she might get for not being potty trained, if Carissa hadn't already 'warned' the school...

"Don't you dare, young lady!" Ms. Carrigan roared, her voice sounding, blessedly, further away than Brigid had feared. Brigid frowned; she wouldn't be that angry if there was no way out... She moved her hand, looking down, feeling stupid that she'd gotten so upset a moment ago when all she had to do was turn the lock.

"Ms. Benson!" Ms. Carrigan snapped as Brigid unlocked the door and shoved it open, rushing out and pushing it closed behind her, hoping it would slow the teacher down. She wasn't sure if Ms. Carrigan would come after her or not... If she was close enough when she got to the doorway, she might, but she wouldn't leave the rest of her class alone otherwise, right? Which meant she had to keep moving... 

Which was exactly what she needed to do anyway. All the excitement wasn't making her tummy any calmer, that was certain. She heard her footsteps echoing through the empty halls, knew that was going to bring any faculty members that might be around swarming towards her. Ms. Carrigan had already told her running wasn't allowed in the halls, though it wasn't necessary... If talking was so heavily discouraged, of course running was, too.

The location of the bathroom was burned into her brain, and she went straight there, as fast as she could, sliding in and scrambling to the nearest stall, shoving down her Pull-Ups and pulling up her skirt as she plopped down onto the toilet just in time. She heard herself letting out a gasp of joy and triumph, feeling her body finally give in, pushing with all its might, emptying itself, thankfully into the toilet and not her trainers.

"I did it," she giggled to herself. She shouldn't feel so proud of that, of something so simple as not pooping her pants, but when she'd been so close to not succeeding, it was hard not to. It had seemed like everything was conspiring against her... And she'd managed to pull out a victory nevertheless. That gave her some hope that she'd be able to do the same at home, that she'd be able to convince Pat of who she really was, and get rid of Carissa, and put everything back to normal.

When she glanced down at her Pull-Ups, dangling between her ankles, it put her accomplishment into more of a perspective, however. They definitely weren't clean anymore, mortifying skid marks streaking up the padding, making it look like she was barely potty trained after all. The majority of the mess had happened in the toilet, and she was grateful for that, but she couldn't help fretting over what Carissa was going to say when she saw this... Or blushing at the idea of spending the rest of the day in them. She definitely didn't want to be caught without them, either here at school or back home, so she couldn't ditch them. She'd just have to carry around the shame of what had almost happened, she supposed.

She was so engrossed with that, it hardly registered that the stall door was open, that, in her rush, she hadn't even attempted to latch it behind her. She was, fortunately, the only person in there, so it didn't matter... Until she saw the bathroom door open. Eyes widening, she tried to lean forward on the toilet, to grab at the door to push it shut, but her arms weren't long enough.

She stretched out the toe of her shoe, trying to use it instead. She could reach the door that way, but it was much harder to do what she wanted that way, the tip of her shoe struggling to catch the bottom of the door and pull it away from the wall of the stall. The Pull-Up around her ankle didn't help, either, forcing her to keep both feet close together for fear of ripping the garment, or having it fall off, letting whoever walked in see it lying on the floor, under the stall door. She'd thought she was safe, that, once she made it in here, her troubles were over... She should have known it wouldn't be that easy.

Who was coming in?! She didn't want another student to see her this way, to discover her secret... She also really didn't want it to be Ms. Carrigan. Perhaps she'd understand when she saw why Brigid had been so frantic to get away, but would she think it was worth breaking all those rules over? Brigid suspected she wouldn't...

"W-Wait a second!" Brigid squeaked, as her feet failed once more to grab the door. She blushed, clamped her hands over her mouth; that had been a stupid mistake, one she hoped she'd made purely out of panic... Now, whoever was on the other side of the bathroom door knew she was here, would have a reason to come all the way in, if they hadn't already been planning on it.

"Is that you, Ms. Benson?" 

Brigid winced, recognizing the voice immediately, despite how new it was to her. "N-No," she answered, doing her best to disguise her own voice, to throw him off.

It didn't work. Her eyes widened as she saw the bathroom door opening wider, and, in a flurry, she hopped off the toilet, yanking her Pull-Ups up her legs, her skirt fluttering down over them right in time for her to see Mr. Dorley looming in the doorway.

"Lying, too?" he shook his head. "You were already in enough trouble for making my class look bad with your behavior in Ms. Carrigan's classroom, young lady. Come on, then... Flush and wash your hands. We need to have a little... discussion... about what is acceptable here at St. Lucie's." 

Brigid gulped, wiggling her bottom. In some ways, it felt much better, now that she'd gotten rid of the mounting pressure that had been building up for so long... But, whether it was her imagination or not, assuming the worst about what her teacher had said, that meant that the ache of yesterday's spanking seemed so much more intense. 

Unfortunately, she couldn't really deny that she'd lied, or that she'd disobeyed Ms. Carrigan, leaving her classroom without a pass, running in the hall... She couldn't get out of her responsibility for any of that, unless she could somehow convince Mr. Dorley that getting to the bathroom on time was worth all those transgressions. All she could do was tug on her skirt meekly, too timid to look him in the eyes as he stood in the door, watching her every move, and say, "Y-Yes, sir..."