Spanking Diaper

Spanking Diaper

Table of Contents

Chapter 1 (v.1) - I Spanked and Diapered my Wife

Chapter 2 (v.1) - The First Morning

Status:
Finished |

Genre: Non-Fiction |

House:
Booksie Classic

Reads : 18834
Comments : 2

T
1

2

Order by

Oldest
Newest

Who is Lenny Loftis?
by Tim Michael

The harvest of wrong
by jaylisbeth

Or if you don't have an account yet
Join

Booksie Pro Reviews

Promote Your Published Book

Home
About
Read
Houses

Members

Tags

Writing Resources
Top 100 Love Poems

Help Guide
Publishing Advisor

Add video
Add picture
Submit
Cancel
Delete

(example of bad selection): This is bold
text and this is normal text.

(example of good selection): This is bold
text and this is normal text.

(The story you are about to read is true. The names have been changed so if my wife happens to read it she will not poison my coffee.)

It all begain in a small New England city in the winter of 1974-5. I was 13 and lived with my parents and my two younger sisters, Edna (8) and Sarah (5). my father ran a construction supply
business and my mother was a teacher. Our income was limited but we made out OK by economizing whenever possible. Three doors down the street, there was a young couple named Harold (25) and Linda
(21) Karcher. .They had a two year-old daughter, Marcia. Harold was a police rookie and Linda was finishing nursing school I used to hang around with Hal a lot because he was a police officer and I
really wanted to do that. when I grew up. He had time to teach me how to shoot, fish and do other fun stuff that my dad was too busy to do. Dad worked almost 16 hours a day to keep the business
running and was usually too tired to do anything when he was home.

The disaster struck three weeks after Christmas in January 1975. Hrold and his training officer were in pursuit of a robbery suspect when the patrol car hit a patch of ice, skidded of the road and
hit a tree. Harold hit the windshield with his head and suffered massive brain damage. His trainer was almost impaled on the steering wheel and had massive chest injuries. By the time they got
Harold to the hospital, he was dead. The trainer suvived and eventually was able to return to duty.

Of course, this was devastating for Linda and the whole neighborhood. Harold was a bright young man and was expected to be the Police Chief one day or even higher. He was really my best friend as
well and I mourned his loss. He left a modest pension, of course, for Linda and Marcia, and there was insurance which enabled Linda to finish nursing school in March. We all helped her as much as
we could, I was over there almost every day to help with chores and errands and mostly to console Linda. Linda had several local women who helped her care for Marcia during the rest of her
training. She was able to get a job at the local hiospital on the 3-11 pm shift, which brought in good money but made it difficult to care for little Marcia. There were not many day-care centers
around in those days and they operated mostly between 7 AM and 6 PM to accommodate working mothers. This didn't help Linda much because she had to go to work at 2:30 PM and didn't get home until
near midnight.

One Saturday rday night, she brought Marcia over to play with Edna and Sarah. While she and my parents talked in the kitchen, I was watching TV in the den when my father called me into the kitchen.
"Sit down, Frank, he said. "Mrs Karcher has an offer for you to consider."

Linda smiled and said, "Please call me Linda, I"m not that much older than you are and it feels awkward being called 'Mrs" by a young man your size." She smiled again and I blushed. "What I want to
do is to hire you to take care of Marcia while I work."

I was stunned. "B-But I'm only 13. I can't take care of a little kid."

She laughed, "Frank, you may only be 13 by the calendar but you look and act 18 or older. (I was 5-10, 172 pounds at the time) You are a lot more mature than those silly high school girls I have
had babysitting Marcia. And Marcia likes you. I think you would be perfect for the job. You can leave school a few minutes early on days I am working and be at my place by 2:30 when I have to leave
for work."

I looked at my mother and she nodded."I can arrange that very easily, you are well ahead on your studies and you can do your homework at the Karchers while Marcia is asleep."

I was thinking, "What am I getting into? I'm just a kid, I'm not ready to be a parent."

My father must have been reading my mind, because his next words were, "Son, you are a man in all but name right now. I think you matured ten years from age 11 to 13." .

Linda beamed. "Wonderful, we are all agreed. Now we can talk about the finances and other logistical stuff."

I basically sat back in a semi-daze while she worked out the finances with my parents. She agreed to pay me a bit over minimm wage for my hours and to provide food for my evening meal and said I
could sleep in the spare bedroom next to Marcia's room. I would cook the evening meal and feed myself and little Marcia, change her diapers when needed, bathe her and put her to bed at the
appropriate time. Then I could walk home at midnight or sleep over there as I wanted. I couln't find anything wrong with the arrangements, I had helped bathe and change Sarah when she was a toddler
and had helped with Edna as well. I could cook and clean as long as I stuck to simple dishes.

Then I did some quick mental arihmetic. "Dad, if this works out, I can pay for my school lunches, snacks and sodas, buy my own clothes and still save some money for college."

Dad nodded, "Yes that would be a real help for us. With only two kids to feed and clothe, the money would go further." He smiled wryly at Linda. "Construction business is getting slower and we
could use the extra money. But are you sure you can afford it yourself."

"Oh, yes," Linda said, Between my salary and Harold's pension there will be enough to pay Frank and then some. I'd actually be better off than I am now. Those people who do in-home child care
charge an arm and a leg and I have to drop off Marcia in the early afternoon and pick her up after midnight."

At this point, my sister Edna came into the Kitchen and asked, "What's the big deal you guys are talking about?"

My mother smiled and said, "Mrs Karcher is going to hire Frank to take care of Marcia while she's at work."

Edna clapped her hands and chiortled, "YES< thats great! Can we come over and play with Marcia while Frank is there?"

Linda responded, "Of course, honey, and he can bring Marcia over here some times too. I know you like to play with her."

Edna scampered back into the living room, screaming, "Sarah, Sarah, Frank is going to be Marcia's babysitter and we can play with her all the time now."

After a batch of mutual hugs, I escorted Linda and Marcia back to their house. At the door, she pulled my head down to hug me and kissed me on the cheek (she was only 5'-1" and I towered over her.
"I'm so happy you decided to help us, Frank. I think you have saved my sanity.'

I hugged her back and walked home in the snow, a bit dazed by what had happened. "Frankie, my boy," I said to myself, "I think our childhood just ended. we've gone from kid to parent in three
hours. That's got to be the world's shortest adolescence.."

© Copyright 2022 RedRover573 . All rights reserved.
Well Doni, you may cahnge your mind about that when you grow up and have kids of your own. Also remember that This all started in 1975, long before you were born. That was a different world.
I'm sure ur wife would wanna posion u cuz I wud
Ugrade to Premium Membership to feature this review at the top of your content and also on listings across the site.
BOOKSIE © 2022 | All rights reserved. Terms
under which this service is provided to you. Privacy
Policy .

Paste the link to picture in the entry below:

Drag a picture from your file manager into this box,
or click to select.

Paste the link to Youtube video in the following entry:

Cannot annotate a non-flat selection. Make sure your selection
starts and ends within the same node.
An annotation cannot contain another annotation.

There was an error uploading your file.

Возможно, сайт временно недоступен или перегружен запросами. Подождите некоторое время и попробуйте снова.
Если вы не можете загрузить ни одну страницу – проверьте настройки соединения с Интернетом.
Если ваш компьютер или сеть защищены межсетевым экраном или прокси-сервером – убедитесь, что Firefox разрешён выход в Интернет.

Firefox не может установить соединение с сервером diaperboys.weebly.com.

Отправка сообщений о подобных ошибках поможет Mozilla обнаружить и заблокировать вредоносные сайты

Сообщить
Попробовать снова
Отправка сообщения
Сообщение отправлено

использует защитную технологию, которая является устаревшей и уязвимой для атаки. Злоумышленник может легко выявить информацию, которая, как вы думали, находится в безопасности.

Try refreshing the page, or try again later.
Something went wrong. Wait a moment and try again.

Some of you will probably dislike this story (and a couple more I have in mind) because they are unlike my usual writing. They are quick-moving, not very detailed, and generic. However, I have had a few diaper punishment stories in mind for a little while, and I want to go ahead and get them out of my head to sort of clear away clutter. This means there will be about three very short, very generic stories - but maybe someone will enjoy them. Let me know!

When I was 15, I told my mother I was having a problem wetting my bed. I even told her I wore diapers to bed because of it. Actually, I was wearing a plastic pant over several pair of thick underpants. I would wash them out when I wet and I would hang them up to dry in my closet. Sometime during that year I did end up getting a package of Gerber cloth diapers that I used from then on. Sometimes on weekends I would get the house to myself for a little while and I would wash my diapers in the washing machine and use the dryer - that was a lot easier.

My mother was never less than supportive. She saw my diapers from time to time - she saw the plastic sheet I put on my bed for awhile, and so on. She never said anything discouraging about it, and just let me handle it myself. She did say a couple times that if it didn't stop she wanted to take me to the doctor, but I kept saying I didn't need to.

I always kind of wished I had asked her to take a strict approach to my "little problem". Often, I have wondered what might have happened had I been treated harshly and punished for it. This is a fantasy story involving that line of thinking. It is a bit generic - but some people like those type stories.

---------------------------------------------------------------

"If it keeps up for a long time, we will have to take you to see a doctor about it," my mother said, finishing up her concerned reaction after I had confessed to her I had been having a bedwetting problem for the last couple months, and I had even begun to wear diapers for it.

I was shocked - it had taken a lot of courage for me to tell, and I had expected - even hoped (though nervously) for more of a reaction than THIS. "Umm - is that ALL?" I asked incredulously.

Now she was surprised. "What do you mean?" she asked.

"Well - I ummm..." I turned red with embarrassment. "I mean, I was kinda hoping.... well, when I was six and I wet the bed a few times, you scolded me and threatened to put rubber sheets on the bed, or maybe even put me in diapers and make me sleep in the crib..."

My mother chuckled. "You're not six anymore," she pointed out the obvious. "You're a bit big for the crib ... and you've taken care of the diapers already," she said with a smile. "Believe me, if you weren't wearing diapers, I would suggest rubber sheets. As for scolding - well - do you REALLY want me to?"

"Umm - well..." I blushed harder, and just nodded. "Even more than that," I said. I was hoping that being punished would help me to stop - I've tried everything else, and punishment is always the last
resort ..."

"Exactly what kind of punishment?" my mother asked. I didn't answer; I just stared at my feet. "Scolding you like a naughty little boy?" she asked, getting a nod from me. "Maybe putting you in the corner?" I nodded again. "More?" she asked, and I looked up at her.

"Ahh - I see. Well, if you feel so strongly about it that you actually ASK for one, then I guess you really do need a good hard spanking, don't you?" Her voice started to take one the tone of lecturing a small child . "Well? Isn't that what you need?" she pressed.

"I - I guess so..." My voice quivered and I suddenly felt and sounded much younger.

"I think you KNOW so," she said. With that, she took my hand and led me to her bedroom, picking up the wooden hairbrush on her dresser.

"How many spanks do you think you deserve?" she asked me. This was not uncommon - whenever I more my siblings were spanked at younger ages we were asked this. It was always a dilemma - you would want to ask for the smallest amount you could get away with, but if you asked for too few, you would get more for trying to get away with that.

"....Until I cry," I admitted. This seemed a safe way to answer.

"And then some," she decided for me. She sat on the bed, and undid my pants. If I COULD have turned any more red, I would have then, as my pants and underwear were pulled down. As she pulled my underwear down, she commented that "You may just not be ready for these yet - perhaps Mommy needs to put you back in diapers all day like a little baby - what do you think about that?"

"But I don't NEED them all day," I whined, feeling younger and naughtier by the second.

She pulled me down over her knee. "At your age, you shouldn't need them at ALL," she lectured, starting to spank me quickly with her hand. "Aren't you ashamed!? Being spanked and wearing diapers to bed at your age!" After a minute of this, she picked up the wooden hairbrush. I felt a burst of stinging heat as she brought it down across my bottom, and it continued to build like bee stings as she spanked me again and again. Finally, I could hold back no longer and I began to cry and kick my feet as the spanking continued. It seemed like it went on forever, but I am sure it was really only a couple minutes before she stopped. Once she stopped, she hugged me, then led me to a corner and told me I had to stand there - with my naughty bottom displayed - for 15 minutes. I wasn't allowed to rub my bottom, and the sting and eventual itch was almost as bad as the spanking itself - almost.

When my corner time was over, I was led back to my own room, and my mother asked me where my diapers were. I told her, and she got one out of the box that was hidden in my closet, and then picked up some baby powder she had brought to my room and set on my dresser. There on my bed, I was diapered by her for the first time since I was two. I turned red again as she pulled the diaper up tightly between my legs, and fastened it snugly around my hips and waist.

It was only 7:00 p.m. , but my mother said it was time for bed now, just like when I was little. I knew there was no way I could hope to avoid a wet diaper tonight, since I was going to bed so early.

Sure enough, I awoke in the middle of the night, straining to hold back. I suppose I could have got up and went to the bathroom, but then I would have had to wrestle with getting my diaper off and back on right (which was no easy feat with the diapers then), and besides I was sleepy and it felt like it would be cold if I got out from under my blankets. So, I just relaxed and let it flow into my diaper, enjoying the warm tingling sensation as my diaper filled and swelled.

In the morning, my mother woke me up and showed me a calendar. "So we can keep track of your progress - or lack thereof," she told me. "We will put a gold star on mornings you are dry, and a black W when you are wet. She noticed the look on my face when she said that, and added, "Like I am guessing you are this morning."

"Ok…" I said. This didn't sound too bad - I just had to make sure no one saw this calendar, although she was now putting it up in a prominent place over the headboard of my bed.

"Wait - there is more," she said. I was afraid of that. "I will check your diapers every morning. You may put them on at night, but I will be checking to make sure you are diapered before bed, and if I catch you even once without a diaper at bedtime, I will be diapering you from then on. If I find your diaper wet in the morning, after you put a W on your calendar, you will be spanked. You can either be spanked in your room bare-bottom, or on your diaper if you take it in the Living Room in front of your sister. One more thing - if you have five or more wet nights during a week, you will spend the next Saturday in diapers all day, and you will use them. If you ever have 10 wet nights in a row, you will be sent to school in diapers for a day."

This was a lot to take in, and before I even had a chance to digest it all, she pulled the covers down, revealing my obviously soaked diaper. With the black marker, she put a W on the day on the calendar, then asked me, "Well, will it be here on your bare bottom, or in the Living Room on your diaper?"

I figured my sister must know about this already, and besides, I didn't have much hope of ma
Mommy Premium
New Strapon Porno
Three Little Pigs And Milf Porn

Spanking Diaper

Report Page