I stopped speaking, sat down and fell unconscious. Not my fault, that much vodka was more than my body could take and stay awake. The students were all adults, they didn’t need me anyway, and I’m sure I’d told them which part of the textbook to work from.

I woke again, looked up, saw worried faces looking down at me.

“Are you ok? Still drunk?”

I smiled up at them. “Yes! But I’m fine.”

I tried to sit up but my head whirred inside and I fell back. I’m not sure but I think that’s when I wet myself, underwear and skirt soaked, liquid dripping off my chair.

I woke up again, smiling faces looking down at me.

“Are you ok? Still drunk?”

I looked at them and nodded. “Yes, I’m fine. I think I’m mostly sober again now though. How long did I sleep? Why are you still here?”

At that point I realised none of us were still there. We were somewhere else, unfamiliar to me. I tried to sit up, see where I was but found this couldn’t. I looked down, saw straps holding me to a bed, my skirt missing and thick white padding in its place, forcing my legs apart.

“That’s right,” someone told me, “You were irresponsibly drunk and incapable of controlling yourself.”

Another voice joined in, “So we took precautions, and, well, now you’re here, a punishment for your misbehaviour is appropriate.”

The first voice continued, “A week like this. If you behave.”

I threw my strength into testing the straps holding me down, tried to wriggle out of the thick diaper, couldn’t shift it. Could tell it wasn’t dry. Had I wet in my sleep?

“Trying to escape? That’s another day added on already,” someone said.

I lay back defeated and smiled inside. My plan had worked.