Spanked For Wetting The Bed

A big, beautiful stream surrounded by meadows and trees... it really 
made me want to pee. So I flew over to the stream and hovering above it 
let go. It was only half way through I realised that this was 
impossible, so I woke up to find myself pissing my bed. I was too 
shocked to stop, and the last bit dribbled out. My bed, briefs and T-
shirt were soaked.

I spent five minutes motionless in bed thinking of what to do, before 
my Mom walked in to start the day. "Time to get up, let's go," she 
said, happily. She pulled off the covers and her smile faded.

"Sorry," I said lamely. I was so embarrassed, to be seventeen and 
wetting the bed again, the third time in a month.

"Well, James..." she said, "would you like a spanking then?" Ever since 
I was thirteen, my parents decided I was too old to be mandatorily 
spanked when I did wrong. So they asked me how I would like to be 
punished. I asked to be spanked most of the time because it was over 
quickly and I could associate the pain with it.

I thought about it for a moment then nodded. "OK, go straight to the 
living room and get ready." The process was easy for a spanking. I was 
to go to the living room and take off all my clothes. Then I was 
allowed ten minutes to get myself mentally ready to be spanked while my 
parents decided how many times I should get spanked and with what. Then 
after the ten minutes, they'd send in my twin brother, Robert, to 
administer my spanks while they watched to make sure it was done 
properly.

After these particular ten minutes, I was sitting on the sofa with a 
cushion over my privates, as usual. Robert walked in with one of the 
biggest paddles, with my parents close behind. Robert was laughing that 
I had wet the bed. He sat down next to me on the sofa, and I turned 
myself over, expertly taking the cushion away at the last second so 
that I was over his lap.

"Twelve spanks," my mother said. "Go on, Robert." My brother lifted the 
paddle and began to spank me with it. It made a loud noise and hurt 
from the very first one. Spank after spank, the pain started getting 
worse, but after a while I stopped feeling each spank, rather just the 
aftereffect of pain.

Eventually, the twelfth spank came and went, and a few seconds later, 
my brother got a tube of lotion and squeezed a generous amount over my 
cheeks. He rubbed it in, soothing the pain greatly.

That night, my brother was made to diaper me, and from then on, I was 
diapered every night so I could wet a diaper instead of my bed. But I 
was still spanked every morning if I wet my diaper, whether I liked it 
or not.