My Eyes Are Open

Chapter One

Summary: Jennifer Honey is pathetic. At twenty-four, she still lives with her aunt and lives in fear of the slightest misstep. This all changes when Matilda, a five-year-old genuis is in her kindergarten class. To protect the girl from her wicked aunt, and provide a better life for them both, Jenny must learn how to open her eyes and fight for what's right.

A/N: This was mainly just something that had been in my head since I saw Matilda on Broadway and wanted to get out and on paper. Also, in this story, Matilda is an amalgamation of Roald Dahl's story and Orphan Annie. There are some major plot points changed from the movie and musical, but-as always-I do not own Matilda, Annie, or Broadway.

Warnings: This chapter contains adult incontinence, adult disciplinary spanking, and abuse.
If these make you uncomfortable, you can just skip it and jump in with chapter two.


Jenny allows herself to be dragged through the hallway without much resistance. Her Aunt's death grip on her arm would not be released no matter what she does, so the young woman resigns to the headmistress' firm escort. It's a lesson Jenny learned long ago.

The girl stumbles to right herself after being thrown into her aunt's office and tentatively turns to watch the behemoth of a woman looming in the doorway once she finds her balance. The larger woman places her hands on her hips; the girl's stomach fills with dread.

"I know I should not have done it, Aunt Trunchbull-" the girl starts.

The woman takes two powerful strides into the room, towards Jenny, and slams the door loudly. Jenny flinches, placing a hand over her chest to keep her heart from beating out of it. "That is still headmistress, to you, Jenny girl."

Jenny eagerly nods, accepting her mistake, "Of course, headmistress." Her aunt begins to circle the smaller woman, expectant. Jenny is surprised by the woman's silence. She's probably just waiting for the girl to try to explain herself, more than likely so her aunt can ridicule it, but she finds hope in the fact that she's not immediately shut down. Maybe she can explain herself, and-for once-her aunt will understand. The teacher didn't mean any harm.

Jenny gulps and begins her explanation. "As you know, there is a girl in my class named Matilda Wormwood-"

"Of course. The nasty little brat has been a pain in my neck since she arrived, but you've become soft-well, softer than already-to her. She's your weakness. It is obvious that she is behind this, the disgusting felon." The Trunchbull reasons as she completes her lap around the teacher and stalks towards her desk.

The accusation breaks Jenny from her frozen position to pursue behind her aunt, "Oh no, not at all." Her aunt suddenly turns around at the objection, leaving Jenny too close for comfort and backing away for distance, and of volume and boldness. "As I told you, she's quite brilliant. I took the books from your office to give to her." Jenny's confession hangs ominously in the air as she awaits her headmistress' reaction.

"Impossible. That child is a monster." The woman crosses in front of her, then turns back upon a realization. "You're trying to cover for her. I knew you couldn't handle her, Jen. You're too spineless!"

Jenny fights to keep herself from shrinking at the familiar insults. For Matilda. Jenny shakes her head, to find courage or in disagreement, she's not sure. "No, Headmistress, that's not-"

The Trunchbull stops in her tracks, sobering immediately. "What do you just say to me?"

The poor girl's eyes widen, trying to rush to fix her mistake of telling her aunt she was wrong. "I just meant-"

"'I just meant'," Agatha Trunchbull mocks in a small voice before returning to her normal, boisterous voice, "What you meant, Honey, was to tell me how spineless and disgusting you are at teaching, and how that rat Matilda Wormwood stole those books from my office."

Jenny lowers her head, adverting her eyes and hiding two small fists in her cardigan sleeves. She refuses to sacrifice her student for herself.

"Oh, feeling rebellious are we?" The Trunchbull leans down to hover near Jenny's downcast face. "You know what happens to rebellious maggots."

Jenny comes out of hiding to look up at her aunt, standing small and feeling microscopic as tears form in her eyes. "No..." She whispers in disbelief.

A wicked, sickly grin spreads across the woman's face. "Yes."

Jenny's lip trembles and she stands indignant in a desperately worried frown.

"Chokey."

The word alone strikes enough fear into the girl to risk resistance. She gasps and makes a dash towards the old brown door that separates her from the outside. But her aunt is between her and her-at least temporary-escape. Aunt Trunchbull reaches out and easily grabs one of Jenny's elbows, effectively stopping her. Adrenaline and excitement running through the woman's veins, she yanks the smaller woman back to her. "Oh, Jen. I thought you had learned to not try to run a long time ago. You know you'll always lose, I will always be there to win."

Jenny tries to shrink away, but isn't allowed much leeway at all. None, actually. "But you know that the Chokey teaches you lessons. Makes you stronger. I'm sure you're familiar." The Trunchbull shoves her niece towards the dreaded cupboard door. "While you grow a backbone, I will take over your class, don't worry Honey. No more read-alongs and fairy tales, I'll teach them true discipline, while you'll learn it too!"

Jenny's objections of whimpers raise to shouted begging pleas as Aunt Trunchbull rips her arms away from the sides of the door and shoves her into the small cupboard. Jenny cringes as her aunt bangs on the door and seems like she can feel the vibrations throughout her whole body.

The headmistress doesn't say anything else and the only way that Jenny knows she is gone is by the office door slamming shut and making her jump.

Jenny struggles to force her breath even. If I keep my eyes closed, she tells herself, I can ignore my fear. Imagine somewhere else-a better world. A world where I'm not pathetic and trapped in my aunt's torture chamber. But her fear suffocates her. The nails and shards of glass digging into her arms and ripping her dress don't help either. The Chokey was originally intended for a small child, and Miss Honey-though scrawny-barely fits. Jenny thinks this gives her aunt more pleasure than even she anticipated. Like when something turns out better than you planned.

The girl in the Chokey feels the nails and glass cut her delicate skin and notices blood drip down from some of the lacerations. There's hardly any light, so she can't see much anyway, but as someone with experience, she can tell it's not serious.

Once she takes a quick peak to survey her own bodily injuries, the teacher closes her eyes again and thinks of her students all alone in her classroom. With Headmistress Trunchbull. But for what must be the millionth time, Jenny is glad she has prepped her kindergartners for this situation. Lavender is responsible for tending to the headmistress' water requirement. Tommy and Alice are to do their bests to hide anything bright and colorful. Hortensia and Bruce make sure the desks are positioned correctly and neatly.

And Matilda, she is mainly there to keep the peace. The brave little girl answers the difficult questions the cruel woman would terrorize the children with, and assists those around her so they could answer and satiate the beast too. Matilda is very clever, and though things always do go awry when The Trunchbull is on a witch hunt to prove someone wrong, Miss Honey is confident Matilda will manage and navigate it. As well as anyone could, anyway.

Jenny wonders how long she'll be locked in here. She's spent an entire day in Chokey before. She didn't leave that punishment unscathed. Jenny prays it won't be that long again. She's not sure she could handle the thought of her students being in the unshielded custody of her aunt for that long.

But this place is a nightmare for her. Even the thought of it causes her breathing to shallow and her hands to sweat. It is suffocating. She can't move, can't breathe fresh air. It's like she is a child again, small and defenseless against her mighty aunt. The girl supposes it will always be like this, she will always be pathetic.

An hour or so passes and she progressively feels pressure in her bladder building. She fidgets in what little room she has to wipe the tears from her face. Miss Honey is sweating from all over her body. Even though the nails scrape at her bare arms, she's grateful for the less discomfort her short sleeves provide her. Pretty soon the pain in her bladder unbearable, and Miss Honey can't think of anything else. Not even her favorite novels and characters could pull her away from the uncomfortable filled sensation. She presses a palm through her dress for counter-pressure and bends over as much as the tiny cupboard allows. Jenny knows she can't last much longer.

Jenny clears her throat. "Headmistress?" She whispers out, despite the fact that she hasn't heard any movement in the room for a long time. The girl tries again louder, "Headmistress?"

The desperation in her voice resonates in the office. The young woman weakly shakes the door, not minding the glass that cuts into her hands. "Headmistress, please let me out." All dignity is gone. Jenny just doesn't want to have an accident. "Aunt Trunchbull, please, will you let me out?" She is willing to risk her aunt entering and hear the wrong title for when they're at school if it means escape from this place, escape into whatever fresh punishment the outside would bring.

But it doesn't come. The Trunchbull doesn't come. What does come is a little trickle from Miss Honey's bladder that dampens her panties. Jenny intakes a sharp, shaky breath as she holds herself together. She must hold it in, if the Trunchbull comes to release her only to find her standing in a puddle of her own pee, she can't imagine her reprimand. The second her aunt comes in, Jenny plans on pushing her way past the large woman and to the bathroom down the hall. Or maybe, the Headmistress' private bathroom. It's closer, just off of the main office, but the reaction of her aunt is unpredictable and unpreferred, at best. She must return before too long.

Jenny wraps her arms around herself as a longer leak seeps into her panties and down her legs. This isn't good, she can't hold it much longer, but she knows how angry her aunt will be at her. She hates this, this feeling of helplessness her aunt causes. Even at twenty-four, long past her years of being a little girl, Jenny is just as weak and scared. Her aunt knows it too.

Jenny finally can't hold it any longer. Hot tears pour down her cheeks as she takes a shallow breath and feels the leaking begin, but she can't stop it this time. The warm liquid soaks her panties and rushes down the insides of her legs. Her pee seeps into her socks and shoes and forms a puddle at her feet, almost completely covering the bottom of the Chokey.

Jenny immediately feels relief, but also terror and disbelief. "I can't believe I just did that", she whispers to herself, hanging her head and looking down to inspect the damage. From what little she can see, the floor is mostly wet but her dress, for the most part, is dry. Thank goodness. But the worst is the smell. Jenny can barely breathe as the smell of her own urine permeates the small space, making it seem more claustrophobic than it already is. Her shoes make a sickening squishing sound when she shifts her weight and her wet panties feel heavy and sticky against her body. As fearful as she is of how the Trunchbull will react to finding her like this, Jenny is frantically desperate to be anywhere but here right now, a feeling she's pretty familiar with.

So she tells herself a story. A happy memory, though she has few. A dream. Anything. Jenny closes her eyes and struggles to take a deep breath into her lungs, before transporting herself out of the Chokey and anywhere happier.

Jenny, though a significantly younger version, finds herself at her favorite place; the Library. She's on the front steps to the large building, looking up with wonder-filled eyes at the doors-a gate to knowledge and imagination.

"Bumblebee, let's go!" A deep voice beckons laughingly. The little Jenny looks up to see her Father grinning down at her, offering a hand. She smiles as she takes it.

"My bumblebee, this is a very important day!" Her Father proclaims as they walk through the old, grandiose doors and towards the front desk. "Now that you're five, it's finally time for you to get your first library card!"

Jenny smiles wide and stands on her tip-toes to try to see over the desk, but she's too small. Her Father notices and takes her into his arms. Holding her close, he turns to the librarian and takes the small card she has extended to him. It's obvious he had this intention days ago and already created the account for his little girl so the card would be here in time for her birthday. "Thank you Miss Phelps." He smiles charmingly as he takes the card.

"Of course, Magnus." She turns to the little girl, "Welcome to the Library, Jennifer."

Although Miss Honey was no child genius like her current student Matilda, the young woman had always been exceptionally bright. Her Father had begun teaching her to read when she was three and she was reading full children's books by her fourth birthday. And thus began a long romance between the girl and novels, one that is still deeply cherished even as an adult. The memory is of one of her happiest days, one that she holds close to her heart and is comforting to think about.

Jenny is suddenly ripped away from her comfort and reverie as she hears the office door swing open and angrily slam shut. She holds her breath and regrets what she said about anywhere being better than here. As miserable and cramped and painful the Chokey is, it's reliable. Out there, with the Trunchbull, that's unpredictable. Here is safe, better that than the unknown.

"Stupid, bumbling idiots. The lot of them." She hears her aunt spit the words out, coming towards her. Oh no.

Aunt Trunchbull fiddles with the chains of the door as she speaks further explicatives to herself about the idiocy of children. Until she manages to click the lock open and sling the door open. The sight of her niece would have been laughable if she weren't so angry. Jenny looked more pale and thin than usual, and gasps for the fresh air when the door is opened. The young woman's hair is almost completely soaked from sweat and she stinks.

"My god, Jen, what is that revolting stench?" The Trunchbull grabs her niece's arm and shoves her against the wall next to the Chokey. The poor woman is putty, unresisting, and finds no words to offer an explanation. Aunt Trunchbull leans into the girl's face to growl, seething and demanding, "What did you do, you nasty maggot."

"I-I had-d t-to..." Jennifer drifts off, hanging her head-anything to avoid facing her aunt.

"Spit it out!" The woman's-if you can call her that-voice catalyzes the smaller girl into action.

"I couldn't hold it anymore, I swear!" Jenny cries.

The Trunchbull peers into the torture chamber, frowning as she puts the pieces together. "Did you... did you piss yourself?" The woman is surprised, but there's something unsettling in her voice. Delight, almost.

Jenny can't find it within herself to look up, so she turns her face to the side, laying it against the cool wall and avoiding eye contact. But her aunt has other ideas. "Answer me." She orders as she shoves the girl into the wall again.

"Yes." Is Jenny's mousey reply, putting her chin to her chest and looking down at the yellow stains on the insides of her socks.

"Oh you've done it now, you spineless nit-wit." The headmistress throws the girl towards her desk. Miss Honey barely catches herself against the wooden edge and quickly turns around as she supports herself on the sturdy furniture. Jenny learned long ago to keep her eyes on her aunt, especially in situations like this one, where her aunt is crazed and unpredictable. "I'm not sure why I expected anything different. I spent all morning slaving away, attempting to fix the mess you created with those snot-nosed monsters in your classroom, you reading them story books and colouring. I take it upon myself to teach them what real discipline is and undo the happiness-and-sunshine idiocy you flower upon them, and this is how you thank me. You're pathetic, Jennifer Honey, and if you insist on acting like a child, you leave me no choice but to treat you like one."

Jenny's eyes widen in horror. "No, please, Aunt Trunchbull. Don't—"

"There is no use begging. You've done this to yourself. Accept your punishment, at least try not to be the coward you are." The Trunchbull stands erectly in front of her subordinate. "Pull up your dress and lean over my desk."

"Please, Headmistress," Jenny holds her hands against her chest, her fingers brushing up against her beloved bee necklace for strength. "There must be another way to—"

"Absolutely not. You are acting like a child, Honey, so I must punish you as one. I will not repeat myself." The woman crosses her arms.

Defeated, Miss Honey nods as she pinches her lips together. She feels the Trunchbull's eyes on her as she bends down to collect the bottom of her dress and rises with it, then bunches it up in one hand as she places the other flat on the desk to steady herself. The girl cringes when she feels her aunt's hands on her, sliding her wet panties down to her ankles. Though, in a way, she's glad to be rid of their dampness.

"You are to count after each lash." The Trunchbull places herself to the left of Jenny.

"How—" Jenny's voice cracks so she starts again, "How many?" So at least she knows how many to count down to.

"Until I think you've learned your lesson." The Trunchbull angrily, sinisterly, strictly states. The woman then pushes Jenny's shoulders down so her face and stomach are forced against the flat surface of the desk. One of the headmistress' meaty hands presses down on the teacher's back to keep her there.

Without any further warning, Agatha Trunchbull sends her riding crop whistling through the air and snaps it across her niece's bare bottom. Jenny intakes a small gasp, and hisses only a little after as the air feels cold on the afflicted area. "One." She bites out.

The second lash comes. This one is harder, more powerful and painful. It stings on her bottom and she's glad she can't see the look on her aunt's face right now. Her cheek presses against the desk and she closes her eyes. "Two."

By the third lash, there are big, wholesome tears in Jenny's eyes. Her "Three" is said with a small, cracked voice. She's pretty sure that's the first lash that breaks skin. The headmistress' strokes are sharp and violent and resonate throughout Jenny's entire body.

"Four."

"Five."

"Six."

By the seventh lash of the riding crop, Jenny cries out and tears flow freely down her face and onto the desk. Jenny is sure that her sobs can be heard from outside the room, but knows there is no chance for salvation. No one will ever save her. She doesn't blame them.

It takes until after the sixteenth lash for the Trunchbull to stop, and Jenny is reduced to a sobbing mess. When her aunt unceremoniously releases her, the girl collapses to the ground, only careful enough to make sure she lands on her side and not her wounded bottom. "You are pathetic, Honey." Aunt Trunchbull spits down at her, "And you always will be."

The headmistress begins her strut towards the door when she pauses just short of it. "Afternoon classes begin in ten minutes. You have until then to… Collect, yourself and return to your classroom or further discipline will be necessary and I will be forced to permanently take over your position." She turns towards the door, then, remembering, back again. "I do hope you learned your lesson." Her solemn and severe face scowls at her, but there's a hint of satisfaction in it to. Jenny thinks she might throw up.

And though she feels nauseous, she forces it down as she stands up. Miss Honey uses the desk she was just forced over as a sturdy base and pulls herself up by the edge. She sways at first for a beat and tightly grips the wood to keep herself from falling over and causing herself more pain. She wants nothing more than a shower or to huddle up under the covers of her bed and read her favorite book. Jenny totally would just stalk back home, damaged and wounded, like a kicked puppy, if it weren't for her Aunt's last threat. She can't leave her students at her headmistress's mercy. As terrible as the Trunchbull is, she is good at coercing what she wants and seeing it through to execution.

So, instead of going to her cozy little cottage—her safe place—Jenny rushes back to her classroom. She only has ten minutes, after all.