Mrs. Evans answered the ring of the doorbell, opening the front door wide and greeting her long time friend, Marissa.
"Hi!!" she exclaimed enthusiastically, "I'm so glad you were able to make it!"
"I'm happy to help out if I can, I just do this in my spare time but it's turned out to be a bigger market than I thought," the slim brunette replied as she came in, a very large satchel in her hand.
"Is that heavy?" Mrs. Evans asked as she showed her to the living room.
"Oh no--just bulky," she answered politely.
After settling her down at the sofa, Mrs. Evans served her some tea and they made some brief chit-chat.
"So where is my little customer?" Marissa asked with a cute, but mischievous smile.
"Brian!" Mrs. Evans called out to her son who was in the other room.
A moment later her 13 year-old boy came into the room silently, carrying a model airplane in one of his hands.
"This is my good friend, Marissa--she's going to help you out with your little problem," she explained.
Her son blushed slightly, feigning innocence.
"Um...what do you mean?"
"Hmm," Marissa said as she carefully laid out a changing pad and three thick, fluffy diapers onto it, arranging them in a rectangular stack, "I'm thinking a size medium will be fine, he's smaller than I expected."
A look of panic crossed Brian's face and he bit his lip hard.
"These are Bedwetters brand and I like them because they have a nice, soft soaker pad sewn down the middle of each diaper," she explained.
"Do you think three is necessary?" Mrs. Evans asked, clearly out of her element.
"Yes, based on what you've told me about Brian's wetting habits."
The latter shuffled his feet, wanting desperately to leave, and uncomfortable being the subject, yet not part of this humiliating conversation.
"Come here Brian," his mom beckoned him, "Let's see how these fit you."
He blushed hotly as his mother began undoing his shoes and removing his pants as if he were still four years old.
Whimpering helplessly, he finally found his voice.
"B-but, I-I, don't want that," he cried, unable to actually utter the word 'diapers'.
Completely ignoring his protestations, his mother swiftly tugged down his Spiderman underwear, putting them beside her on the couch as her wilting son covered his little package in shame. He continued to whimper and squeal as she led him over and sat him down on the stack of diapers, situating him so that the soft cloth was equally positioned on either side of his slim hips.
Marissa quickly took over, grasping his ankles with one hand and swinging them over his head as Brian gasped audibly. He was certainly unaccustomed to being handled by another woman and he squealed again even as he struggled to maintain his balance. Worse yet, it was mortifying having his little rosebud so humiliatingly exposed before this stranger.
Marissa's other hand contained a big glob of diaper rash cream and she slowly and thoroughly coated his curvy little bottom with it.
"Depending on how early in the evening Brian usually begins wetting, it's a good idea to give his little buns a good layer of protection," she advised sagely.
"I-I don't need diapers," he wailed piteously.
Taking the container of Johnson's baby powder, Marissa pushed aside Brian's hands that were trying to shield himself and she began shaking it over his privates, a pleasant smile upon her face as she beheld his diminutive package.
"Here you are honey--some sweet smelling baby powder."
Brian kicked his feet in frustration and Marissa pulled the thick cloth up between his legs and pinned the sides together with a large, clown headed safety pin. After completing the other side, she turned to Mrs. Evans.
"I'm so sorry, but I'm all out of plain white plastic panties," she said apologetically, "Would it be okay to use nursery print until I get my next shipment in?"
"Oh, that will be fine," his mom answered, "I'm mostly concerned with getting him a good fit that won't leak."
Happy with her response, Marissa produced a very babyish pair of white waterproof panties with a nursery print of clowns and giraffes decorating it.
"No-no-no!" Brian wailed as the attractive woman gathered them in her hands and positioned them over his kicking feet.
"The first time is always the most difficult--that's why I always make a point of being present when these bedwetters get their initial diapering."
"Yes, I think that is very wise," Mrs. Evans agreed as Marissa slid the colorful plastic panties up Brian's smooth legs, working them over the fat bulk of his diapers with her fingers to get all the bunny soft cotton inside the waterproof vinyl.
After a quick dusting of baby powder between his thighs, Marissa stood the flustered, embarrassed boy on his feet. In his t-shirt and fat pampers, he looked very much like a cute diapered toddler, albeit, a taller one.
"Why don't you let him wear these the rest of the afternoon to see how the fit is?" she suggested as she gently patted him on his fat, plastic covered bottom.
"What an excellent idea!" Mrs. Evans quickly agreed, "Brian, you can run along and play now--I'll check up on you in a couple hours to see how you're doing and if the panties are chaffing."
The pouting, red-faced youth shook his fists, too ashamed to speak up as he waddled off, the fat bulk of his diapers inhibiting his ability to move normally.
"He may be a little upset now, but you'd be surprised how quickly they come to accept their diapers and plastic panties," Marissa explained, "In my experience, most little boys get right on board with it and after awhile--he won't even know he's wearing them."
"Yes, well...either way--those are here to stay until he stops his childish bedwetting," Mrs. Evans replied evenly, "I've had it up to here with his pee-stained sheets and the smell."
Marissa nodded in agreement.
"Yes, a little embarrassment is well worth the price of dry sheets."
*****************************************
Several hours later...
Mrs. Evans was kneeling over her son, checking the tops of his thighs where the elasticized baby panties made the seal against his skin.
"I think these are going to work just fine," she said with obvious satisfaction.
"Yes, and if I may say so, I think the nursery print looks cute as a button on him," Marissa commented.
Brian's mom patted his thickly diapered bottom as she smiled down on her blushing son.
"I'll take half a dozen of them if you have that many, and two dozen of the diapers."
Brian's eyes misted with tears and he began whimpering in protest.
"But mom..." he whined. Clearly, she had decided that diapers and plastic panties were going to be a part of his life for the immediate future and there was nothing he could do about it.
"Let's go clear off the top of your dresser and make room for your new diapering supplies," she told him firmly as she led him down the hallway.
"Do I have to keep wearing these?" he bleated.
"Yes, you might as well keep wearing them the rest of the evening--it will help you get used to the feel of being in diapers from now on," she explained matter-of-factly.
Brian stamped his feet as his mom cleared off his toys and books from the top of his dresser and began stacking the diapers and plastic panties.
"But what am I gonna say when my friends come over?" he whined.
"You can tell them you're a bedwetter and these are to protect your mattress and sheets," she replied simply.
The youth blushed bright red and looked away in shame.
"I'm also going to put a bedwetting chart on your wall--and when I see seven nights in a row of wet diapers--you can count on taking a trip over my knee."
Brian gulped hard and shuddered as he considered her warning. His mom was probably the only one of his peers who still spanked her son and Brian lived in fear of her wooden paddle. He could still recall the last time, just the month pervious, that he had found himself over her lap, his underwear tangled around his ankles as she smacked his bare bottom until he was crying like a baby.
"Now I want you to thank Marissa for your new diapers and plastic panties. Maybe this will finally put an end to your childish bedwetting," she told him.
Blushing hotly, Brian swallowed hard and looked the other way.
Seeing his hesitation, Mrs. Evan's hand rose up and swooped down hard, slapping his fat, diapered bottom harshly.
Although the multiple layers of soft cotton ensured it wouldn't hurt, Brian nevertheless bucked forward and he gasped in shock.
"Th-thank you, Ms. Marissa," he stammered belatedly.
"What are you thanking her for, Brian?" his mom prompted him.
Her son cleared his throat as he blushed even deeper.
"Th-thank you for my d-diapers and plastic panties," he quivered shakily.
"You're certainly welcome, honey-bunches," she replied with a beautiful smile, "I think it's just what you need."
Brian's cheeks blazed hotly and the comment only humiliated him further as he shook his fists in frustrated impotence.
THE END
Betty Pearl's Sissy Stories 20.1
Topic: The Humiliations of Being a Bedwetter (Read 21488 times)
