Diaper Discipline

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I remember in my formatives years a time where my mommy and daddy treated me out to a drive in movie.

I was told that before we left I would have to take a bath.

Before we left, Mom told me to take a bath.

Once I had got out of the tub, I was to dry myself off and come into my parents’ bedroom.

“Mom,” I said, “I need clothes!” “Just come in to see me with a towel,” she replied.

When I had bathed myself, I went into Mom and she had a pile of my clothes on her bed.

She also had one of my brothers’ Pampers pull-ups.

“You need to put this on,” she told me firmly, “because there won’t be any bathrooms at the drive-in.

So you can just go in the diaper.”

At that age, I was very embarrassed at the thought of wearing a diaper like a baby.

I flatly refused.

Mom told me to stop arguing and come to her and be diapered.

I turned and tried to leave the room but Mom grabbed me.

She placed me on my back on her bed.

Then she grabbed and lifted both my legs up, placed one foot on each of her shoulders and held both my hands together with her left hand.

Then she started to spank me with her right hand while I was in this position.

At first, I looked directly into her eyes as she chastised me, but after a while, I closed them tightly and tried to pretend this wasn’t happening.

I thought it was so unfair to get a spanking for this.

When she was done, Mom made me lift up my legs and she put the pull-up on me.

Then she made me stand up on the bed like a baby and finished dressing me – socks, shorts and T-shirt.

We went to the movie and Mom saw I was still upset.

I don’t know if she told Dad what had happened, but she had me sit on her lap for most of the show and in all honestly, it was pretty nice.

The diaper’s padding reduced the burning effect in my butt!

The show ended and we went home.

All the while I had really needed to pee, but I wasn’t going to give in and do it in the diaper, which by the way was way too small for me!

I don’t think it would have absorbed enough if I had urinated in it.

So I held everything in until we got home.

When we arrived, Mom took me up to my bedroom. S

he made me take off my shorts and then she pulled the diaper off me.

By this point, I was busting and ran into the bathroom to pee –

I didn’t even shut the door.

Mom came in as I was still peeing and said sternly:

“Come back into the bedroom when you are finished.”

When I got back to the bedroom, she asked sternly:

“Why didn’t you go in the diaper as I told you to?

You could have really hurt yourself by holding in your wee-wee for so long.

You never listen to me!”

This time, she grabbed me under my arms and lifted me up over the bed, and over her arm,

I remembered the last time I got a had got a severe spanking in this position and was very scared.

Mom spanked me much, much slower than she had before, but it was just as hard, and the gaps between her smacks gave my bottom a lot more time to appreciate the sting.

Because it was summer, my bedroom window was open.

I could hear my neighbor, Mrs Francis, outside, talking.

I knew that she heard everything that was going on as the sound of a boy getting spanked in my neighborhood was very common –

she even spanked her own son, Gary, in the front yard once.

One blessing was that Mom didn’t spank me as long as she had the last time I was put in this position.

I believe it was because she could see exactly how red my butt was getting and she knew when I had enough.

Finally, she put me down and made me put my PJs on and get into bed on my back.

She said: “Don’t move, or rollover, or I will come back and spank you again!”

I knew there was no way I could survive a triple spanking, so I obeyed.

Mom left my door open so she could easily check on me –

I really couldn’t believe she had actually given me two spankings in the same day.

At the time, I thought it very unfair and cruel, but never expressed my feelings.

I just lay there and tried to get some sleep, which with such a sore butt was very difficult.

The next day, Mom told me to get up and come to the kitchen for breakfast.

I didn’t say much and she did all the talking.

She told me: “You know, Eddie, when you need food, clothes and medicine, I give them to you because I love you.

Equally, when you need a spanking, I give it to you because I love you.

Do you understand?”

I answered “OK, Mom” obediently enough but though I tried to understand,

I didn’t realise at the time that this was really a control and correction issue, and I would get many more spankings from my parents because of it.