| Title:
| I'm in Trouble- Again
|
| Name:
| Matthew
|
| Email:
| [email protected]
|
| Gender:
| Male
|
| Current Age:
| 15
|
| Posting Date:
| 08/31/08
|
| Story Contents:
|
| A- Post-toddler (4-8) | | R- Sisters, other girls |
| | B- Pre-teen (9-12) | ● | S- Babysitters | ●
| | C- Teen (13-17) | | T- Masturbation | ●
| | D- Adult (18+) | | U- Sexual situations | ●
| | E- Cloth diapers | ● | V- Gay |
| | F- Disposable diapers | ● | W- Erections | ●
| | G- Pee | ● | X- Bedwetting |
| | H- Poop | ● | Y- Accidents |
| | I- Exposed diapers | ● | Z- Punishment/Diaper Discipline | ●
| | J- Multiple diapers | ● | 1- Female Domination |
| | K- Baby paraphernalia | ● | 2- Enemas | ●
| | L- Mother | ● | 3- Restraints |
| | M- Father | | 4- Crying | ●
| | N- Aunt | | 5- Spanking | ●
| | O- Uncle | | 6- Humiliation | ●
| | P- Brothers (diapered) | | 7- Babying | ●
| | Q- Brothers (not diapered) | | 8- Regression | ●
|
|
| Summary:
|
A 5th grader named Matthew has just gotten into trouble. But that's not uncommon, except
this time he's gone too far, and his diaper time has been extended into a weekend with
his 9th grade neighbor.
|
I�m in trouble. Again. But that�s nothing new, I�ve always been in
trouble. Except this time, I think I went too far. This time, I poured
house paint all over my neighbor�s car. I didn�t give my mom a straight
answer, mostly because I didn�t have one. I saw the paint, saw the car,
and the two went together.
Except now, my neighbor, Mr. and Mrs. Ferrara, are pretty mad and are
complaining officially. Great, I guess I�m pretty much dead.
I�ve been in trouble before, and usually that just means like, a week
in diapers. Some people see this as a weird form of punishment (myself
included), but one day my mom was talking to one of her friends at work
and she said it works wonders for her -- so mom decided that she�d try
it out. That was 3 years ago, in the 2nd Grade. I remember the first
time that I flooded the bathroom where it didn�t end up with a slap
upside my head or going to bed without dinner � but instead a calm, yet
forceful shove onto my bed, which ended with even more crying than what
would�ve happened if I had have gone to bed without dinner. Why?
Because, of course, I had just been stripped of my clothing and
diapered up like a preschooler, and being told that I�d be one for the
next week.
This became my mom�s favorite form of punishment � because it meant
little to no physical infliction on me, and it was so easy to carry out
a big form of discipline. I absolutely couldn�t stand it! But that
didn�t keep me from being in and out of trouble all the time.
When I was in Kindergarten, my teacher noticed that I wasn�t like other
kids. Soon after, it would be that I had a mild case of Autism, and a
bad case of ADHD to go with that. I had been placed into a school where
it was going to be easier for me to learn � which also made it easier
for me to get into trouble.
So here I was, lying in bed as mom dealt with the neighbors. I dreaded
the sound of her walking up the stairs. So before her conversation
ended, I went into my drawers and tried to put all my diapers under my
socks, trying to hide them so maybe that she wouldn�t think about using
diapers as my punishment. Yeah, that didn�t work.
She came upstairs with a disappointed expression on her face.
�Seriously, Matthew? Pulling a stunt like that?� She exclaimed.
I didn�t have an answer, again, so I just stared back in fear of the
words that were going to come next.
�Well, I�m certainly not going to cancel my own plans to visit Aunt
Shane down in Virginia with your other cousins and their family, and
obviously you�ve shown that you can�t behave enough to come. So, Mrs.
Ferrara�s daughter Rachael is going to watch you for the weekend. And
you bet that you�ll be in diapers, little boy. And that�s not gonna
end, at least for a while. I�m thinking at least 6 months for a stunt
like that!�
I started to whine.
�Nooo!! You can�t go without me! I�m already packed!! 6 months?!?!
Please no!! And Rachael�s not even in 10th grade yet, she can�t stay
with me!! Wait, if I�m diapers, who�s going to take care of me??
Her?!?! Noo! Please!!�
Mom just started to unpack my bags and pay no attention to my whining.
It was a kick in the gut to see all my hard packing to be quickly
undone like that. She then left the room and shut the lights.
�I�ll be back in a little bit to get you settled for bed.� She said. It
was 6:49PM.
She came back 15 minutes later with the usual stuff. Diapers, my
�special� pajamas (which were called footed sleepers) with green
puppies on them, the pacifier, and the awful �poopers�. The �poopers�
are technically called Suppositories and Enemas. She just called them
the �poopers� because that�s essentially what they are. I was scared to
see the big metal piece of the second pooper (the Enema) � as she only
had brought this out when I did things really bad, which has only been
4 times before.
She began the routine of first stripping me of all my clothes � I
wasn�t allowed to do it myself. After, she put the changing towel over
my bed and gestured for me to lay down. As I did, she put the pacifier
in my mouth. Now, usually I hate the pacifier, but I�ve learned to deal
with it, especially not to provoke any more punishment. She slid the
extra-thick disposable, plastic-backed diaper under me (which were
specially made by my mom�s cousin, who works for Pampers product
testing) and sprinkled powder on me, rubbed it in, lotioned my bottom,
crotch and penis. Puberty was still a bit away, so there wasn�t really
any obstruction for the diaper to encounter. She taped up the diaper,
and stood my up on my feet. She unzipped the �special� jammies from the
back and slid them over me. She turned me around and zipped the zipper
up to the back of my neck. After, she took a pacifier ribbon and
fastened it to the neck of my jammies.
I started to turn bright red. Getting the punishment started was always
the worst part of it. It made me feel so helpless, so unable to care
for myself, and left without any control over myself. As usual, I
started to cry. Mom usually ignored this. She kissed my cheek, and put
my blanket over me. She lifted up the wooden railing on the side of my
bed, and said good night, and that she loved me. She turned off the
light � 7:23PM.
I cried for an hour. I was so sad. So angry. I couldn�t believe I was
so stupid to do that, now I just made myself miserable. The clock said
9:18 before I actually cried myself to sleep.
I woke up at 8:12. I sat there for 15 minutes before mom finally came
in.
�Good Morning� she said, in a semi-happy mood. She took down the
railing and rolled me over. �So, do you think you wet or messed your
diapers last night? I didn�t give you any poopers� she asked.
�No...� I said in a sheepish tone.
�Well, can you do one or the other, or both before I change you? I
don�t want these diapers to go to waste. Besides, I saved you from the
poopers, right? So as part of the punishment, I want you to do
something in those diapers before I change you.� She explained.
�But I cant...� I whined.
�Oh yes you can! If you want to get of bed, you will!�
After 10 minutes of �C�mon, let�s go now...� and �anything yet?� mom
finally took some action. She sat me up, and told me to get on my hands
and knees. As I did, the jammies got a little tight on the part that
goes around my feet � the must be a little tight from the really large
diaper. She told me that this position should make it easier. She
started to make little grabbing motions on my stomach to try to get
something flowing from my abdomen. It sent a funny feeling to my lower
tummy. Suddenly I felt like I was going to explode with poop and pee.
She continued to make the motions, and suddenly I just burst with poop.
It made a soft, smushy, warm mess at the back of my diaper. I started
to cry as I felt so ashamed of what I just did. As I was softly crying,
I started to flow with pee too, as mom was still making some less-
strong motions on my stomach. After about 30 seconds, she stopped. She
kissed my cheek, and said �That�a boy.�
I knew she was going to make sure I had to go through staying in my
soiled diaper for a few minutes. She picked my up by my underarms,
which brought me to a standup position on my bed. She unzipped the
jammies from behind me and took them off. Now I was just in my huge,
soiled and wet diaper. Mom looked over my body and said �See, you�re so
nice when you�re my little baby Matthew again!�
She put down a changing mat on my bed and pulled me down. It made me
come down to a sitting position hard and fast, smushing around the poop
in my diaper. She pushed my chest down, and I began to cry some more.
Mom then untaped my diaper, but didn�t uncover it. She lifted my legs
up and bent them at the knee, just like a little 4 year old. She then
took the rear of the diaper and smushed it against my bum. It was still
warm, and smushy. She smushed it around for a good 10 seconds then
pulled the diaper down and performed a good cleanup. She put me into
another diaper, lotioned and powdered me up, then put me into my �play
shorts� and a small, white tee shirt that was a bit too short. She took
me by the hand, and we went downstairs into the kitchen.
I was still crying.
TO BE CONTINUED.