Bedwetter Wayne Wears Diapers

By J. Nash

"Wayne, it's ten after seven o'clock. Why are you not wearing rubber 
pants?" It was my Mom asking. Worse, she asked in front of Mrs. Kennedy 
and her thirteen-year old son Will. She does stuff like that. All the 
time.

"He wears rubber pants?" Will asked. "How come?"

"Unfortunately, Wayne still wets the bed, and so every night he is put 
in cloth diapers and rubber or plastic pants," my Mom explained. "At 7 
p.m., Wayne. Not ten past. You know what can happen if you play games."

She meant a spanking. Resisting being put in diapers was high on the 
list of spanking infractions. Being spanked was ultra-humiliating, and 
I usually managed to avoid it. Usually. When they happened, they were 
administered with a leather strap on my bare butt usually by my step-
brother Nathan, which was no fun. They also hurt. A lot.

"He's like fourteen and he still wets the bed?" Will asked, as if he 
couldn't believe it. "He still wears diapers?"

His Mom shook her head in disbelief. "Yes. The diapers control the 
wetness and the odor, and also they're an embarrassing incentive to 
become dry. Wayne, go and ask your brother to put you in a set of 
diapers. Right now, please. Then you can come back and show Will how 
ridiculous you look."

I had hesitated because my brother Nathan (he's my mean step-brother, 
actually) was playing a video game with Andrew, Will's older brother. 
Nathan usually handles my diapering, and gets extra on his allowance 
for doing it. As you can imagine, it's pretty embarrassing to have to 
submit to being diapered by your younger step-brother (even if he's 
only three months younger), but it's worse when someone else is 
present, especially when that person doesn't know about your 'special 
needs'. My Mom makes no secret about my bedwetting or diapers�that's 
the way she chooses to handle it.

"If you're going to wet like a baby and have to wear diapers like one, 
we're not going to pretend that you don't," she said. "If you get 
teased and ridiculed, that's your own fault."

So she talked openly about it to anyone and everyone, and worse, every 
evening I was put in my thick cloth diapers and 'baby pants' as Nathan 
called them, and was permitted only a tee-shirt and socks. There was no 
exception to this policy, and it didn't matter who saw me. Of course I 
did get teased and ridiculed and laughed at, and while Nathan usually 
changed me, there were times when the task was 'out-sourced'. So I've 
been diapered by friends of my brother, by cousins, of course my Mom 
and step-Dad (he hates it and always calls me a pathetic wuss), and 
even a 'babysitter', Emily and her nasty boyfriend Gary, who always 
calls me 'Wayne the Untrained' and other rude stuff. I get treated 
pretty much like a baby would. I don't get spoken to in baby talk (well 
Nathan sometimes does), they just matter-of-factly put me in my diapers 
as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

Bedwetters wear diapers, right? There's no regard for modesty or 
dignity or my feelings. And It never gets easier. I have to forget all 
about matters of pride and stand totally exposed before whoever is 
going to diaper me, then climb up on my 'change table' with its rubber 
sheet/change-pad permanently in place, atop which is a thick cloth 
diaper with its flannelette 'Snugabye' baby-diaper boosters. I am 
powdered, then the front of the diaper is brought between my legs, to 
my waist; where it is pinned on tightly on with a single diaper pin on 
either side. Blue diaper pins. ("'Cause you're a boy," Nathan once 
joked when we bought some new ones.) Then I'm put in plastic or rubber 
pants, either pull-on or sometimes plastic snap-ons. Sometimes I'm 
mocked during the whole process.

Protesting or resisting is pointless because then I just get spanked 
first, with that awful leather strap, and still end up in diapers 
anyway. Being spanked is both painful and degrading, and I hate it. So 
mostly I just submit to what's happening. But it's hard. Sometimes some 
visiting kid happens to be watching the whole thing more or less in 
disbelief, or is laughing at me. That's the worst. Then I'm 'free' to 
go and get on with my life, such as it is. I never quite get used to 
the thickness between my legs, the sound of the plastic or rubber as I 
move, the combined smell of baby powder and urine. All my diapers carry 
a faint smell of urine, and I'm not the only one who's noticed it. I 
also never quite get used to the sheer shame and humiliation of being 
in diapers, or the reason that I am. Or the fact that I still end up 
wetting them almost every night. I've never been dry two nights in a 
row.

Like I said, it's certainly no secret that I'm a bedwetter who's made 
to wear diapers�but Will didn't know (well he did now) and neither did 
his brother. That was one of the toughest things�having it revealed to 
someone who didn't already know that I'm a bedwetter who is made to 
wear diapers. That moment that they find out is pretty hard to bear. 
The reaction is always pretty much the same�shock, surprise, disbelief, 
ridicule. One moment I'm 'normal' (as far as they know) and the next 
I'm a bedwetter in diapers�a big baby. That's the situation I was now 
in regarding Andrew.

My Mom had just ordered me to go and tell Nathan to put me in my 
diapers. I would have to do it in front of his friend.

"What do you want?" Nathan said. They were in the room we share, so 
maybe Andrew already knew�there was my 'change table' with its rubber 
change pad in place, there was my diaper pail with 'Wayne' written on 
it in magic marker, there was a stack of folded cloth diapers on my 
dresser. So maybe he knew.

"Um, it's after seven," I said. "So?" Nathan was going to make it hard. 
He always did.

"Mom sent me."

"For what?"

"Um, diapers, I guess."

There. I said it, but not loud. Andrew looked up in surprise.

"Oh, right. I need to put you in your diapers. I forgot. Ok, so get 
ready." Nathan took an already prepared diaper from the stack on my 
dresser and placed it on the rubber change pad on my change-table. He 
put diaper pins beside it. I have Babykins and other youth diapers, but 
with two triple-folded flannelette baby diapers inside for extra 
absorbency. I had taken to getting a whole bunch ready beforehand, so 
that I wouldn't have to do it in front of Nathan, or whoever. It was a 
little bit less embarrassing this way. But not much, because now I had 
to get undressed and climb up on the table and surrender to being 
powdered, diapered, being put in plastic or rubber pants, then living 
with it. This time, all in front of Andrew. I hesitated.

"Go ahead, Wayne, or I'm getting the strap." "Man I can't believe this 
is actually happening," Andrew said. "The guy wears diapers!"

I slowly kicked off my shoes, then undid my jeans and took them off. I 
looked away as I took my boxers down, then off. I got on the table and 
positioned myself on my diaper, still not looking at Andrew. But I knew 
he was looking at me. Nathan picked up the baby powder. He sprinkled 
some on me. It was a house brand from the local pharmacy. It smelled 
very strong. A baby smell. My diapers were clean, but looked used and 
were permanently stained from so many wettings. This bothered me, 
because it was proof that I really needed them. Nathan was about to 
bring the diapers up between my legs when his cell-phone rang. He 
stopped. I was keenly aware of Andrew staring at me.

"Hello? Oh Hi Angie. Oh, nothing exciting. I'm just diapering Wayne." 
Of course Nathan's girlfriend Angie knew about my situation and had 
seen me in diapers many times. She usually called me 'Diaperboy', and 
mockingly asked how my 'toilet training' was going ('Hey Wayne, any 
progress with toilet training '101'? I didn't think so�'). He kept 
talking to her while I lay exposed on my diapers with Andrew staring at 
me. It was awful. Finally, he motioned Andrew to diaper me. Andrew 
wasn't sure.

"What, you want me to diaper him?"

"Wait a sec, Ange�sure, just pin them on him, will you?" "Ok, but I 
never even diapered a baby before."

"Well Wayne can be your first one. Pin 'em on tight. Wayne, let him or 
you know you'll get spanked first."

Andrew brought my diapers up between my legs and gingerly pinned them 
on me. He took a long time, and was careful. I closed my eyes, but 
could feel him. Nathan still talked on the phone, but opened my top 
drawer and selected a pair of plastic pants. Baby pants, as he always 
called them. They were my despised nursery prints, blue with images of 
diapered babies on them. Snap-ons. Nathan indicated to Andrew that he 
should put them on me. I had to lift up while Andrew placed the plastic 
pants under my diapers. He knew which end was which because of the 
label inside the back of them. He awkwardly snapped them on me.

"Man oh man, this is so weird," he said. "When I got up this morning I 
never thought I'd be putting some kid in diapers today!" And that was 
it. Except not really. It's pretty bad being put in diapers, but then 
you have to wear them. It's endless humiliation. The diapers are a 
constant visible and audible reminder of your shameful weakness. 'Look 
at me! I'm a bedwetter! I need to be dressed like a baby! I wear 
diapers! I wear plastic pants! I smell of baby powder and pee! Go 
ahead�laugh at me! I deserve it!' Being in diapers, I can't concentrate 
on anything else. The diapers totally dominate my existence. Nothing 
else matters. That is it�I'm just an excruciatingly embarrassed big 
baby, not a fourteen-year old at all. This is beyond failure�total 
defeat for all to see. Even five-year olds feel superior to me. I'm not 
just in diapers�I'm in deep, unending shame. I feel like a big baby 
even when I'm dry. Of course Will laughed and teased me mercilessly, 
when he saw me, which I expected.

"Hey dude, you've got babies on your baby pants. I can't believe you 
still need diapers and baby pants! That sucks! What a diapered loser!"

I would have liked to maintain a bit of dignity in front of him (and 
Nathan and Andrew), but that's not really possible when you're wearing 
diapers. Dignity and pride and coolness are not really options. I had 
to just more or less accept my situation and their teasing.

"Hey Nathan, shouldn't he be in his playpen?"

"Hey Will�Wayne even has a rubber sheet on his bed, and a diaper pail 
and a change table," Andrew said. "He's like a total baby."

"I figured he still slept in a crib," Will answered. At one point he 
smacked me on my plastic pants, on my butt. I hate that. Just when I 
thought it would be humanly impossible to be more embarrassed, my mom 
appeared with a laundry basket full of clean diapers for me to fold. So 
wearing diapers, I had to fold a load in front of Nathan, Will and 
Andrew.

"Hey Wayne, did my brother really diaper you?"

"I guess so."

"Man, you're so lame! Fold those diapers, dude! Look, they're all pee-
stained"

I hate being baby-sat. When Nathan does it, it feels sort of normal 
because he lives here. So even though he's in charge of me it's not too 
obvious that I have a babysitter. But when he and my parents aren't 
home, then I have to have a real babysitter, and it's not fun. When I 
stayed at my Aunt's for two weeks my bedwetter cousin Burt and I got 
baby-sat at one point by this girl Emily and her mean boyfriend Gary. 
We were put in diapers before they arrived, but Burt wet and had to be 
changed by them. Then Gary was told to check my diapers to see if I was 
wet, and he did, making a big show of it. He didn't miss a chance to 
tease us and belittle us, and then he convinced Emily to send us to bed 
really early just to get us out of the way. Now Emily was going to come 
back, probably with Gary, this time to our house to baby-sit me on my 
own. One little problem�in his haste to get ready and go out with my 
parents to a hockey game, Nathan either forgot or didn't bother to 
diaper me.

"Nathan, how come he's not in his diapers already?" Emily asked when 
she saw me. "Could it be that Wayne's grown into a big boy now? Nah, I 
don't think so," Gary said. He had to come, of course.

"Darn, I forgot all about it," Nathan said. "Look, I gotta go. Just 
handle it guys, ok? Thanks!" And he was gone.

"Are you going to do it?" Emily asked.

"No, you do it," Gary said. "You're the official babysitter."

"Tell you what, we'll flip a coin, and the loser gets to change Mr. 
Toilet Training here. Wayne, get a diaper ready, and you get ready for 
it." I placed an already prepared diaper on my change pad and slowly, 
reluctantly began unzipping my jeans. The alternative was to have them 
do it for me, and maybe spank me as well. Emily was not going to give 
me a break. She was either going to diaper me or watch. They flipped a 
coin and Gary 'lost'.

"Do you even know how to do it?" Emily laughed. She didn't even glance 
at me as I stepped out of my boxers. To her I was just another 
uninteresting baby.

"Hey I diapered his bedwetter friend Baby Burt, remember?"

"Oh yeah. He was sooo embarrassed!"

Gary motioned me to get on the table. I complied. Emily still acted as 
if this was totally normal. I was dying of shame.

"Hand me his diaper pins." He grabbed the container of baby powder and 
dumped quite a bit on me. She placed the pins beside me and watched 
approvingly as Gary pulled the diapers up between my legs and pinned 
them securely on. I was nearly crying by the end of it.

"Very good," said Emily, "you'll make a fine Daddy."

"Baby Wayne, who's your Daddy?" I was trying hard not to cry.

"Ok, Em, get me some baby pants, will you?"

I was snapped into my blue ones, of course. By Gary. When you're in 
diapers it's impossible to pretend you don't need them. They sort of 
speak for themselves. In fact they scream 'this guy pees his pants, 
he's a bedwetter', and that's how I felt. Getting diapered by Gary was 
pretty bad, but having to wear them in front of him and Emily was 
terrible. For me it was the ultimate in shame and humiliation. As a 
matter of fact it was so bad that I did a Burt. I wet them. I didn't 
even realize it until Gary did a humiliating diaper check and found 
that I was soaked. How could that happen? You would think that being 
hyper-conscious of wearing diapers would help me keep them dry, but I 
guess my stress robbed me of control and awareness.

"I can't believe the big baby's wet already," Gary said. "Do we change 
him?"

"Well it's only eight o'clock," Emily said. "He can't stay wet until 
tomorrow. I know�I'll call Nathan, but I'm sure he'll want him 
changed."

She dialed her cell phone. "Hey Nathan. Sorry to bother you. Listen, 
Wayne wet his diapers. Yeah, he's pretty soaked. Do we just change him, 
or what? Okay, top drawer? And the wipes�okay. If you say so�yes I'm 
looking at it�I'll get Gary to do that. How many? Twenty? No problem. 
He'll enjoy that. No not Wayne, silly�Gary."

With a sinking, sick feeling I thought I knew what was coming. "Um, 
should I get on the table?" "Not yet. Gary, Nathan said there are 
medical gloves and baby wipes in his top drawer where his baby pants 
are. And while you're at it, bring the strap. Nathan said to give Wayne 
a good spanking before he's put in clean diapers." "Wow," Gary said. 
"Babysitting is fun!" Emily was present once when I was spanked by 
Nathan, so she knew how it was done. I had to bend over my change 
table, where a diaper was waiting for when it was over. She knew that 
both my Mom and Nathan made me wait 'in position' for awhile before my 
spanking actually began. She told Gary.

"Why do you make him wait?"

"Because it brings on maximum anticipation, fear, and humiliation. It's 
actually an important part of the spanking process."

Gary already had medical gloves on. The strap was on my change table on 
top of my diapers. I tried not to look at it. He told me to lean over. 
I felt him undoing my plastic pants. It felt weird. A moment later I 
felt my diapers coming off, and felt the cold air on me. And I heard 
the lid come off the diaper pail. I dreaded his using a Huggies wipe on 
me, but he didn't. He either forgot, or just didn't want to. I saw the 
strap disappear from on top of my diapers. He practiced a couple of 
times, I think on the side of my dresser. It sounded brutal. Emily was 
still there. Again she would watch me get spanked. Gary made me wait a 
long time, bent over my change table, bare butt, in horrible fear, 
anticipation, and shame. Emily was right. It was an effective part of 
the spanking process. Then finally the first stroke came. It stung 
badly. Gary wasn't fooling around. When Nathan spanks me the strokes 
come in fairly rapid succession and the whole thing is over relatively 
quickly. Gary was different. He waited a long time in between, and used 
more force than Nathan, who nevertheless spanked hard. So physically 
the pain was worse, and I involuntarily cried out with each stroke. But 
psychologically my punishment was more severe as well, because it went 
on for so much longer, and there was more time for pain, shame and 
humiliation to sink in. Those words took on new meaning as I waited for 
my spanking to end. It probably took ten minutes in all. That I was a 
fourteen-year old having to submit to a spanking by someone 
(practically a stranger) my own age for having wet my diapers 
(diapers!), that I was a nightly bedwetter who would be put back in 
diapers at the end of his spanking, that it was happening in front of a 
girl who saw me as nothing more than an infant�it was all too much, and 
I was crying as Gary administered the last three or four strokes.

Then it was over. He sprinkled baby powder on the part of the diapers 
that would cover my butt. He still wore the medical gloves. "Ok�climb 
up, lie on your diapers, and I'll pin them on you." My plastic pants 
lay to one side. I did as I was told. Before pinning them on he 
powdered my front. Then he told me to lift up and he positioned the 
same plastic pants under me, then snapped them on me. "Wayne, if you 
wet again you'll just have to stay wet. We have better things to do 
than to be changing your diapers," Emily said. Yeah, like smooching. 
For the next hour or so before being sent to bed I experienced huge 
embarrassment as Emily and Gary babysat me. I couldn't sit down because 
my butt stung so much from the spanking so I had to stand there and 
pretend to watch TV with them. But I could only think of what Gary had 
just done to me. He spanked me, then diapered me, and now I stood in 
front of him like a punished baby. Ridiculous and helpless. I smelled 
bad because I was back in the plastic pants I had peed, and he hadn't 
used a baby wipe, even though I'd have died if he did. My diapers 
smelled anyway. My pants made noise at the slightest move. Gary was 
very pleased with himself.

"Wayne, are you still dry?"

"Yes."

"Well you're pretty smelly. Come here and I'll check."

He tugged on the waistband of my plastic pants and had a look at my 
diapers. It was just to be mean.

"Ok."

"It doesn't matter--we're not changing him again anyway," Emily said, 
"and of course he smells�you put him in the same peed baby pants 
without even using a Huggies wipe."

"Oops, I forgot!" It was a relief when I was finally sent to bed.

A friend of my mother's won a trip for two to Palm Springs, Florida. 
She couldn't go because of illness in the family, so she gave it to my 
parents. Nathan talked his way into going too, but when I tried my Mom 
said no. She said it was a rare chance for a holiday and they didn't 
want to be changing diapers. That's what she does; rubs it in. "Maybe 
when you're a big boy�" Nathan teased.

After much discussion and phone calls it was decided that I would stay 
with Aunt Connie, who was just back from London, and whom I had never 
met. She had two boys, Sean and Andrew, fourteen and thirteen. It 
didn't help that I met them for the first time carrying a diaper bag 
and my diaper pail. I guess they had been told, and already regarded me 
as if I were some kind of dumb freak.

"So you still wear diapers?" Sean asked. "That's pretty retarded, 
dude." Both of them were laughing.

"Speaking of which," Connie said to my Mom, "I would feel a whole lot 
more comfortable if Wayne were in diapers the whole time that he's 
here. I just got new carpets and new furniture, and I don't want any 
accidents. I just don't want to take any chances. Better safe than 
sorry. If he stays dry, well so much the better, and no harm done."

"Well he mostly only wets at night, but it's your house and your call," 
my Mom said.

"Sorry, Wayne, but you only have yourself to blame."

"Mostly at night," Andrew said. They were still laughing. I was in 
shock. Diapers in the daytime! And I knew I had no pants that would fit 
over them. They hadn't even thought of that. As soon as my Mom left 
Aunt Connie told me to go up to the boys' room, which I would be 
sharing, and to take my stuff. It was ten a.m.

"There's a table up there we can use to change you�did you remember to 
bring a change pad? Put in on the table. Did you bring a rubber sheet 
for your bed? You'll see an unmade bed. Put the rubber sheet on it ok? 
And unpack your stuff. It can go at the end of the change table, 
because there are no free dresser drawers." It was actually a plastic 
sheet.

"I'll be up in a minute to change you." The boys were beside 
themselves.

"We'll show you where to go," Sean said. They just wanted to witness 
the freak show. So upstairs, in front of them I had to unpack my stuff�
five pre-made up diapers, 3 pairs of plastic pants, including snap-on 
nursery prints, and one pair of rubber pants. Also there was a small 
plastic container of diaper pins, plus medical gloves, baby powder, 
diaper rash ointment, my change pad, and plastic sheet. And my strap.

"What a lot of baby stuff. And what's that strap for? Don't tell me you 
even get spanked?" Sean said after I had put everything where it was 
supposed to go on the change table (well, it was now), including my 
change pad. It was hard. The rubber change pad rustled when I put it in 
place, and it gave off a faint sour smell of rubber and urine.

"Sometimes I get spanked," I admitted.

"What a lot of baby stuff, and what a lot of baby!" Andrew retorted.

"Spanked and diapered�dude, you need to grow up. But right now you need 
to put your plastic sheet on the mattress there. Our friends sleep on 
that and we don't want it peed." I did it, and it made a lot of noise 
also. Then my Aunt was there.

"Ok Wayne, let's do this. I see your leather strap. Your Mom said to 
spank you if you make a fuss. Are you going to make a fuss?"

"No." "Then get yourself ready, then lay on your diaper." She was 
putting one in place on the change pad.

"Boys, I'm going to diaper Wayne, and I want you to watch carefully 
because guess what�after this time you guys are going to be doing it. 
My diaper changing days are over."

"You're making us baby-sit Wayne and change his diapers?" Andrew said.

"The horror!" The boys laughed. "And I just thought of something. 
Wayne, since the boys will be changing your diapers, they will also be 
authorized to spank you if they need to. So I'm actually going to spank 
you now so they know how it's done. I'm sorry, but it's for your own 
good. It's just one of the consequences of your bad habit. So get 
undressed and lean over the table."

Of course I was appalled to be getting an unfair spanking, especially 
in front of my cousins and that they would be allowed to spank me. And 
to diaper me. And it was excruciatingly embarrassing to be standing 
naked from the waist down in front of my Aunt and cousins, but I knew I 
had no choice. Slowly I got 'in position', painfully aware of the boys' 
eyes on my butt. I was staring at the diapers I would soon be wearing 
in front of them. And the plastic pants. What a nightmare!

"Sean, hand me the strap. This is exactly the amount of force to use. 
No more."

"Or less," Andrew said. Aunt Connie sure didn't spare the rod. The 
strokes were severe and painful. I flinched and cried out with every 
one. After ten she stopped, and I thought I was about to finally be 
diapered, but I was wrong.

"Sean, take the strap and give him five practice strokes. Use the same 
amount of force."

"Cool!"

I waited in shock and horror to be spanked by my cousin. He delivered 
five hard strokes, and then it was Andrew's turn. I got five more. My 
butt was stinging badly by the time I was laying on my back waiting to 
have my diapers pinned on.

"Boys, if you're changing wet diapers always use gloves, and remember 
to powder him�like so�then just bring his diapers up between his legs 
and pin them on. Like that�and that. No need to stab him with his 
diaper pins. Make sure they're pinned on tight or he might leak. And 
then put him in either plastic or rubber pants, and make sure they 
completely cover the diapers. Lift up Wayne, so I can put your plastic 
pants on you."

I did, and she snapped my nursery print pants on me.

"Do we have to change him as soon as he's wet?" Sean asked.

"Within a reasonable time," my aunt said "otherwise he'll get diaper 
rash."

"It's cool that we can spank him," Andrew said.

"Yes but only if you have good reason," she said. "Don't spank him if 
he's cooperating."

"We won't," both boys said, laughing. So there I was at ten in the 
morning, already spanked, in diapers, plastic pants, socks and a tee-
shirt, facing the day at the mercy of my cousins and whoever they might 
invite to mock and ridicule me. There were two new rules�I was not 
allowed to sit on any cloth-covered furniture�a cheap plastic chair had 
been placed in the living room for me to use, and I was not under any 
circumstances to unpin my diapers. I was told I would be severely 
spanked if I did. But this meant that I couldn't just go to the 
bathroom when I wanted, and by one pm I was wet. I stayed that way 
until around three, when my Aunt finally noticed, I guess because of 
the smell.

"Don't tell me you're already wet! So I was right to put you in daytime 
diapers!"

She told Sean to change me. By then the boys had invited friends over, 
Seth and Paul, and they made the most of teasing and laughing at me. 
They called me 'Baby Wayne' 'Diaper-boy' and 'Baby-Pants Boy'. It was 
horrible.

"I can't believe he peed his baby pants," Paul laughed. "And you have 
to change him, Sean."

"Well that's the down side," Sean said.

"Yes, I have to change Wayne's smelly diapers. But I also get to spank 
him first."

My heart sank and my mouth got dry. We went up to the bedroom. I was 
painfully aware of how much noise my plastic pants made as I climbed 
the stairs, as if that mattered now. Four excited, mocking, gloating 
boys and me in my wet diapers. This would be my first spanking by Sean, 
and the beginning of a terrible pattern. For every time either cousin 
changed me, they were going to spank me first. They quickly found that 
'babysitting' me and changing wet and smelly diapers was a nuisance, 
and they were going to make me pay, Sometimes that would mean up to 
three spankings a day. When I complained to my Aunt, she merely said 
that was the price they 'charged' for having to change my diapers, and 
refused to intervene.

"Bend over, Wayne." Sean put on medical gloves. I did as he said. My 
cousins' friends seemed in awe of the situation�a fourteen year old 
about to have his wet diapers removed, receive a spanking and then be 
re-diapered. They were amazed by my 'change table' with its change pad 
and array of stacked diapers, plastic pants and other things. And of 
course that I had a diaper pail. And that strap.

"Did you ever get spanked, Seth?' Sean asked.

"Nope. A time out, maybe, or I've been grounded, but that's it. Sean, 
you're really going to spank him?"

"Yep. You'll see."

"I never got spanked, but then I never wet my bed or pants either," 
Paul said.

"Well, duh," Seth said. He grabbed my strap and started flexing it in 
the air. I flinched as Sean began to unsnap my plastic pants, first the 
left side, then the right. Now what was about to happen was really 
sinking in. He placed the pants near my waiting clean diapers. Then I 
felt my wet diapers coming off.

"Whoa, he smells!" Paul said. I was spanked enthusiastically as the 
boys laughed and made jokes. Sean diapered me, and I had to endure 
their teasing for the rest of the day. About two hours after being 
changed, and in front of all the boys, Andrew inserted two fingers into 
the top of my diapers, and stretching them and my plastic pants outward 
a few inches, looked right inside to see if I was wet. It was 
incredibly embarrassing and infantilizing, and made them laugh.

"Is baby wet?" Seth asked. Then at one point Sean called me over to the 
computer. The others watched the screen and were laughing. He had 
brought up a site that is a support group for bedwetters 
(http://Groups.msn.com/SupportforBedwetters). He had already signed me 
up.

"It's where you belong, Wayne," Paul said. I guess he was right.