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Author Topic: Chrissie's Summer in Diapers  (Read 79178 times)

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Anonymous

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Chrissie's Summer in Diapers
« Reply #14 on: January 03, 2007, 02:49:13 PM »
“Nice to meet you,” Ms. Johnson said warmly as she reached over and took her hand.

   â€œI’m honored to meet you,” Jordan replied sweetly, “I’ve heard so much about how you’ve turned problem boys around. I only hope I can do as well when Chrissie comes home.”

   â€œOh, you’ll do fine,” Ms. Johnson assured her, “Just keep his paddle close at hand and you won’t have any troubles at all. Chrissie may seem like a grown up sissy, but he’s really just a big baby inside. He usually starts crying the moment I put him over my lap.”

   The women giggled at that revelation while my ears burned in shame. I was required to sit in my chair, with my hands placed in my lap and submissively await Ms. Johnson’s summons for whatever she might require.

   â€œSounds like he’ll be a cinch to control,” Jordan said with a chuckle, “I have quite a bit of experience with disciplining children, so a big sissy in diapers shouldn’t present any problems.”

   â€œIn my opinion,” Ms. Johnson offered sagely, “You would do well to give him a spanking right now—just to establish your authority with him.”

   My heart skipped a beat and I gulped hard as I saw Jordan looking intrigued with the idea.

   â€œWhat do you think Mrs. Brooks?” she asked, turning to face my mom.

   â€œI think it’s a wonderful idea,” she said brightly, as if she were discussing a picnic, “I think it’s an excellent way for you to get to know each other.”

   I was biting my lip nervously as Ms. Johnson turned to face me.

   â€œChrissie?” she said, “Go and fetch your paddle.”

   I began whimpering fretfully and I faced my mom, my eyes pleading with her to intervene but she only smiled back at me wordlessly, while I squirmed in discomfort.

   â€œRun along Sissy, and do as you’re told,” Ms. Johnson warned me, “Or you’ll be taking a trip over my lap as well.”

   I choked back a sob and stood up quickly, bowing in deference to the boss of the house.

   â€œYes Ma’am,” I responded.

   I trudged back to the nursery, dreading every step I was taking. Today had started out so good and now I was about to be spanked! And for doing nothing! Nothing at all! It was so unfair!

   Once in the nursery, I waddled over to my pink dresser, with its Barbie dolls arranged neatly across the top. Hanging from a peg on the wall above it was my paddle, an oval shaped piece of polished wood, 3/8” thick with six large holes in the face of it. I cringed as I held the fearsome instrument in my hand, tears brimming in my eyes. How many tears had this paddle caused me, I wondered to myself, as my bottom twitched nervously. It was large enough to cover both of my buns, yet small enough so as not to be unwieldy. And I knew all too well the skill with which Ms. Johnson could apply it to a particular area, giving it extra attention if she felt the need.

   I walked out in a daze, my head hung low as I made my way back to the living room. I wanted to meet this pretty and sexy woman but certainly not in this manner! Would she spank me hard? Would she make me cry? She looked too nice to do that, I thought. Maybe she’d just give me a few practice swats and that’d be it. Maybe she’d even let me keep my diapers on. I hoped and prayed that that would be the case.

   Walking slowly into the living room, I went over to Jordan who was now sitting in a straight backed chair and I presented her with the paddle. She looked very sexy with her short skirt and high heels, and the tight, snug-fitting halter top she had on, barely concealing her big, plump bosom. Looking at her brought out strong feelings of inferiority in me and her high heels made me fearful.

   â€œThank you, Chrissie,” she said, beaming a warm smile up at me, “You and I are going to be spending a lot of time together so I think its only appropriate that we should start things off right, with a nice, hard spanking.”

   With her pretty smile and the way she said it, she made it sound like she were talking about giving me a bath, instead of a painful and humiliating punishment.

   â€œFrom now on, I want you to address me as ‘Aunt Jordan’ or ‘Miss Jordan’. Okay Honey?” she said sweetly.

   â€œYes Miss Jordan,” I quivered before her.

   Suddenly, I felt the front of my diapers growing warm and wet and I realized belatedly that I was uncontrollably flooding them at the worst possible time. Once a full stream had started, it was quite impossible to stop it and my face turned bright red.

   â€œOh!” I squealed and my hands went down in a futile attempt to hide my shameful act. Somewhere over the course of the last three months I had lost whatever marginal control I had once had over my bladder and once I started, it was impossible to stop peeing until my bladder was completely emptied. As I stood shifting from one foot to another, my diapers grew heavy with the acc-umulated pee until it began to seep between my legs and up into my seat. My tights, rumba panties and baby pants all ensured that my bottom cheeks felt the full effects of my wetting as the cloth absorbed it and spread it all around. As the women watched me humiliate myself, I stood there, my face the color of crimson, as I waited for the last bit of pee to finally come. Oh, how I hated my childish incontinence!

   Ms. Johnson shook her head in dismay.

   â€œI’m afraid our little sissy has just demonstrated why he needs his diapers so badly,” she said scornfully, “Do you need me to take over, Jordan?”

   My stunning tutor didn’t pause for even a moment to reconsider.

   â€œNot at all, this is all part of getting to know my little baby,” she said as she smiled warmly at me. Placing the paddle on her skirted lap, she waited silently for me to stop peeing with the patience of someone who’s used to dealing with toddlers.

   â€œAll done?” she finally asked in her sweet voice.

   â€œUh-hm,” I mumbled as my face burned scarlet.

   Pulling her own skirt slowly and teasingly back to reveal her sexy, creamy thighs, she looked deep into my eyes and I could feel her superior personality overwhelming me, making me feel every bit the naughty little boy.

   â€œChrissie, this is only the first of many spankings you will receive over my lap. I know this going to hurt you but it’s for your own good, okay Honey?”

   â€œYes, Miss Jordan,” I sniffled.

   â€œYou can cry as much as you want to and feel free to kick your legs—I know you are a big sissy and you can’t help it. And after we’re done, we’ll go and change your wet diapers, okay?”

   â€œYes, Miss Jordan,” I sobbed.

   I felt defeated by this pretty nanny before she’d even pulled my diapers down but I knew that was what was coming next would be even worse.

   â€œChrissie? I want you to hold your dress up and out of the way—can you do that for me, Honey?” she asked in her pleasant, kindly voice.

   â€œYes, Miss Jordan,” I replied meekly.

   Grasping the ruffled hem of my dress delicately, I pulled it up to reveal the thick, embarrassing diapers I was wearing underneath, now soaking wet with pee. Jordan reached over and put her long nails underneath the waistband of my satiny rumba panties, snaking them off the bulk of my diapers with ease as she lowered them to my ankles.

   â€œYou’re wearing such pretty panties, Chrissie,” she remarked sweetly, “But don’t you worry, I’ll make sure we put them back on after you’ve been paddled.”

   My heart skipped a beat at her warm manner, which contrasted so dramatically with what she was doing.

Next, she did the same with my glittery tights, working them over and down, despite the tight elastic waistband that held them up. She encircled my calves with her slim hands as she lowered them down to my ankles, just above my gathered panties. Looking up at my fear filled face, she smiled again reassuringly as she reached over and put her long nails inside the waistband of my pink plastic baby panties, working them around and gradually peeling them off of the sopping wet cloth of my diapers, until they were free of the bulk. Then she pushed the dewy panties down until they were also encircling my ankles.

   â€œOkay Chrissie,” she told me, “It’s time for you to get spanked.”

   A tear trickled down my face as she gently pulled me over her bare lap. I landed with a wet and humiliating squish and I was deeply ashamed that this beautiful woman had to feel my incontinence so intimately on our first meeting. I whimpered in fear as she began patiently removing the diaper pins holding the wet cloth together. She even began humming a tune while she pulled my diapers back, exposing my bare, wet bottom to everyone present.

   â€œP-please—please don’t spank me hard,” I sobbed fearfully.

   â€œThere, there,” she said in almost a whisper, “A good cry is just what mommy’s little baby needs.”

   Quivering with anticipation, I felt her stroking my damp cheeks with the paddle, in an almost soothing manner.

   â€œYou have a very nice bottom, Chrissie,” she remarked softly, “And I’m going to enjoy spanking it, nice and hard.”

   With that, she raised the paddle up high and brought it down again with a biting wallop, searing my dewy buns with a shockingly harsh impact. I wailed loudly in pain and kicked my feet frantically as she brought it down again, slapping my right cheek forcefully and leaving an angry red oval tattoo. I gasped helplessly at the severity of her assault, just as the paddle came down to blister the other cheek, in a vengeful, punishing delivery.

   Kicking my feet wildly, I burst into tears as she kept up a carefully measured spanking, designed to make me savor every stinging, blistering slap of the paddle. My cheeks were on fire and I howled miserably as she took her time, swatting every square inch of my blazing buns with a strength I didn’t think possible. My soft, tender buns danced each time the hard oak paddle landed, jiggling merrily before it landed again to instill this painful, humiliating lesson.

   I cried like a baby, slapping the floor with my hands as she continued the paddling without pause. How was it that women could so easily take advantage of me and punish me? I didn’t know but as I lay across her lap, feeling the fury of the paddle on my scorched bottom, I knew that I would be taking orders from her in the future.

   At long last, the terrible spanking ended, and I lay in place, bawling uncontrollably in front of everyone. With gentle kindness, Jordan carefully helped me to my feet where my wet diaper fell heavily to my ankles, exposing my miniscule genitals to her smiling face. She looked down at them and suppressed a giggle, flicking my tiny pen-is with the long nail of her finger while I cried in shame, covering my tear stained face with my hands.

   â€œAre you ready for your diaper change now, Chrissie?” she asked me.

   I sobbed loudly and nodded my head, completely defeated by this knockout. I knew I would never question her authority and I would always do what she said.


Anonymous

  • Guest
Chrissie's Summer in Diapers
« Reply #15 on: January 05, 2007, 03:38:48 PM »
“Okay, can you carry your wet diapers, Honey?” she asked tenderly, “We’ll put them in your diaper pail when we get back to the nursery.”



   I nodded again and reached down to pick up the heavy, pee-soaked cloth as I shuffled after Jordan, taking baby steps since my panties and tights were still gathered around my ankles.



   â€œCome on little baby, let’s go change your diapers,” she said gaily as she held my hand to pull me along.



   As I continued crying pathetically, I couldn’t believe how hard she’d just spanked me! Looking over my shoulder and pulling up the back of my frilly dress, I could see my round bottom was a bright, fiery red, with purple blotches and raised skin. Her manner was soft and comforting but she wielded the paddle like Ms. Johnson! I sobbed woefully as I pondered my future with this woman, bent over her knee getting my bottom spanked on a regular basis.



   When I reached the nursery, Jordan was already waiting for me with a fresh set of bunny soft diapers and the diaper rash crème. She took my hand tenderly and sat me down on the changing table where I erupted in a fresh set of tears.



   â€œThere, there Baby,” she said as she brought a pacifier up to my quivering lips, “Why don’t you nurse on this for awhile, maybe it’ll make you feel better.”



   I accepted the big rubber nipple of the pink pacifier as she passed the plastic loop over my head.



   Using baby wipes, she cleaned my diaper area gently, before taking a generous handful of crème and smearing it across my stinging, candy-apple cheeks.



   â€œNow you’ve learned what’ll happen if you disobey me, haven’t you Chrissie?” she said with her warm smile.



   I nodded my head, still crying as I suc-ked the fat nipple filling my mouth.



   â€œYou see, I like to spank sissies, especially ones like you that are still wearing diapers like a little baby,” she said as she coated my blazing bottom with the crème, “And I’m going to make sure you get at least one good, hard spanking every week.”  



   I swallowed hard and sobbed, realizing she had every intention of continuing Ms. Johnson’s practice of weekly spankings.



   Jordan reached over and picked up a big rubber butt plug, dipping it deeply in a jar of nursery jelly before positioning it below me.



   â€œHold your legs up, Sissy,” she instructed me as she held the vaseline covered plug at the ready.



   Since I was on my back, I raised my legs again which spread them wide for her intentions.



   â€œThat’s a good little boy,” she said sweetly as she began working the greasy plug into my back hole. I pouted and squirmed as she twirled it around, pushing it in and out to get me used to the fat tip.



   â€œSpread your legs wider, Sissy….that’s it….that’s Mommy’s baby…there you are…” she coaxed me as she put more and more pressure on it to push it in. I moaned and shook my head no but she placed her other hand on my thigh and pushed harder against with the plug, unwilling to let me escape. Finally, as I let out a cry of pain, it eased past my defeated sphincter and slipped inside as my hole closed around the shaft of it, locking it in place until she decided to remove it.



   I was whimpering like a little girl as she smiled down at me in satisfaction.



   â€œThat’s a good little boy,” she said cheerfully, “And that should take care of your messes until we can get you home.”



   Taking the thick stack of diapers, she raised me up and slid them beneath my sticky rump, setting me down gently upon them. As I wiped away my tears, I gazed at her big, swaying breasts that were literally bursting from her halter top.



   â€œYou like big breasts, don’t you Chrissie,” she said with a smile as she caught me staring at her chest.



   I nodded my head yes meekly and she beamed down at me warmly.



   â€œI thought so,” she said as she pulled the thick cloth of my diapers up and between my legs, pinning either side securely with pink clown pins, “but if I catch you staring at them again, you’ll be going over my lap for another lesson in manners—do you understand me?”



   â€œYeth, Mith Jowdan,” I lisped as I suc-ked on my pacifier. I was frustrated to discover that this pretty woman, despite her kind, loving manner, was every bit as strict as Ms. Johnson.



   Pulling up my plastic panties, she briefly wiped the still wet insides of them with baby wipes before pulling them up my legs. I hated having to wear panties that had been wet in previously because the elastic legs bands would always remain cool and damp around my thighs. I shook my head in protest and whimpered stubbornly but she ignored me as she continued to pull them up, wrestling them over the bulky soft cloth of my diapers with her finely manicured hands.



   â€œI know these are a little wet, Sissy, but that’s too bad. You’ll just have to get used to it,” she told me.



   I pouted in silence as she powdered between my legs and pulled my tights back up and into place, effectively ending the issue.

I was somewhat surprised when she began pulling my Alice in Wonderland dress off of me and I whimpered in angst, sounding like a little girl whose doll was being taken away.



   â€œOne thing Ms. Johnson and I may disagree on, are the clothes you’re entitled to wear. You see, I think that anyone who’s fifteen years old and still wetting his diapers like a baby--should be dressed like a baby.



   â€œI’m going to make sure everyone knows that you wear diapers Chrissie—starting right now,” she said emphatically, “You’re going to come home in the most babyish outfit I can find for you—one that clearly shows off your diapers and plastic panties to anyone who might be nearby.”



   I cringed and choked back another sob as I pondered how my future was shaping up with this busty disciplinarian eager to humiliate me.



   Standing up, Jordan went over to the closet until she found a very short baby dress with frills and frills all over it. It was pink with white satin lace and a hemline that I knew would leave my fat diapered bottom fully exposed. I pouted as she worked my arms through it and buttoned it in back, checking the fit to make sure my diapers were clearly visible. Once she was satisfied, she pulled me to my feet and pulled my lacey rumba panties back into place while I suc-ked my pacifier in frustrated silence.



   â€œYou might as well get used to that as well,” she said as she looked down on me and crossed her arms across her big breasts, “Because I’m going to be taking you out in public all the time, so people can see what a fifteen year old boy who wears diapers and baby clothes looks like.”



   I blushed hotly at the thought of what that would be like and I stamped my feet in frustration as I realized how powerless I was to prevent her from doing what she wanted with me. And I could feel the fat rubber butt plug stuffed inside me, serving to remind me exactly who was in charge here. She looked down on me with complete superiority and confidence, knowing full well there wasn’t a thing I could do to stop her.



   â€œCome on Chrissie,” she said taking me hand, “Let’s go show your mommy what a big sissy you really are.”



   Dominated and defeated, I waddled out behind Jordan where my mom was waiting in the living room for us with her car keys in hand. When she saw me, she began nodding her head in obvious approval, clearly agreeing with Jordan’s methods.



   â€œWell,” she said as she looked me up and down, “Looks like you’re in good hands. Come along Chrissie, it’s time to go home.”



   With an uneasy feeling, I said goodbye to Ms. Johnson, whose strict rules I had had to live under for the last three months. I had hoped I might get to live the life of a little girl at least, but now even that was being taken away from me. It looked like diapers and the life of a baby were what I could look forward to when I got back home.



   I guess I had always been afraid to admit that I was a sissy, but now, there was no point in denying the truth. I needed my diapers and I needed the strict hand of a superior woman to ensure I toed the line. I wasn’t a man and I knew I never would be one. Rather than try and be something I knew I could never be, the only thing that made sense was to embrace my sissyhood. It was time for me to start all over, as the big baby everyone knew that I was but which I had always been afraid to admit to.



Looking over at the busty, dominating profile of Jordan, I knew I would be feeling the sting of her paddle on a regular basis but I realized deep down…she was just what this sissy needed.







The End


 

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