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Author Topic: Bedwetters Get Diapers  (Read 26496 times)

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Baby Bobby

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Bedwetters Get Diapers
« on: March 07, 2023, 10:55:45 AM »
When I was twelve, going on thirteen, my parents got a divorce. As dictated by the terms of the final settlement, I was to move into my dad's new home along with his girlfriend, Desiree. I was not happy about the situation, to put it mildly, and I resented my new stepmom intensely, not the least of which was the fact that she was twelve years younger than my dad and tended to dress in a way I thought was overly provocative. Tight clothes and low cut tops were her common fare, showcasing her long legs and enormous breasts. Despite my misgivings about her, I have to say that in my heart of hearts, I could certainly see why my father had gone for her; physically, she was superior in every way to my mother—younger, in better shape, very pretty, and with a heart-stopping body she was obviously proud of. Nevertheless, I was determined never to give her a fair chance and there was no way that she was going to replace my mom.
   Another addition to our family was Desiree's gorgeous daughter, Megan. At sixteen, she was four years older than me and a total babe, having inherited her mom's sexy curves. Initially, I tried everything I could do to ingratiate myself with her, but despite my efforts, she rebuffed me every time and was generally very dismissive of me. She was fond of telling me I was nothing but a little sissy, a nickname that stung me to the core and that I was particularly sensitive to. More and more, we argued all the time and I was desperate for her to respect me but all she saw in me was a wimpy little kid, unworthy of her consideration.
   Conversely, she and her mother were very close and I often heard them whispering amongst themselves, making me suspicious and even more resentful. This situation was made more difficult by the fact that my dad was often out of town on business, so he left the running of our household to my stepmom.
   I definitely felt like the odd man out and I think it was the stress of the divorce and the awkwardness of my new living arrangements that caused me to start wetting the bed. It wasn't every night, but about twice a week and Desiree was furious when she discovered it. I told her they were just random accidents but she had zero sympathy for me, threatening dire consequences if I didn't get it under control.
   Which brings me to this morning.
   I woke up once more to the feeling of very wet sheets and a soggy mattress below my waist, signaling yet another disaster that I was going to have to try and explain away to my new stepmom. I knew I was already on thin ice with her and as I heard her mounting the steps to come upstairs, I yanked off the sheets in a wild panic, stuffing them under the bed and pulling the covers back up. I had just swapped out my pajama bottoms when the bedroom door opened and she strode into the room, a haughty look of maternal superiority on her face.
   Sniffing the room suspiciously, she wagged her finger at me in an accusing way.
   â€śBrian? Did you wet the bed again?” she demanded sharply.
   I bit my lip hard, almost breaking the skin.
   â€śUmm, uh n-no,” I stammered nervously.
   â€śI can smell the pee in here,” she said tersely, “If I find you're lying to me, you'll be taking a trip over my knee,” she warned me ominously.
   My hair stood up on the back of my neck at the idea of a real spanking. Neither one of my parents had ever spanked me before and I couldn't believe she'd actually make good on her threat!
   Going over to my bed, she yanked back the covers and saw the big wet stain on the mattress.
   â€śIt's ruined!” she shrieked, “My new mattress is ruined!”
   My mouth had gone dry and I trembled in fear as she turned to face me.
   â€śYou are going to get your bare bottom paddled and then we are going shopping for diapers and plastic panties, bedwetter boy!” she barked.
   Before I could stutter out some sort of reply, she grabbed me hard by the ear and frog-marched me down the hall, past Megan's room, who's door was currently open.
   â€śMom—what's going on?” she called out as we passed her room.
   â€śBrian managed to wet his bed again and now he's going to get a spanking,” Desiree quipped.
   Dragging me into the master bedroom, she grabbed an oval wooden paddle off the top of her dresser and took a seat on the bed.
   â€śY-y-you can't s-spank me!” I cried frantically, “I-I'll tell my dad!”
   â€śHe's already told me I have complete authority to discipline you in any way I see fit,” she snapped as she jerked my pajama bottoms down, revealing my tiny pen-is before her for the first time. The shocked look on her beautiful face clearly revealed that she'd never seen one that small but she quickly recovered and threw me over her lap.
   â€śNo-no-no!” I wailed as I looked up to see Megan framed by the bedroom doorway, smiling down at me in gleeful anticipation.
   I felt my child-sized pen-is mash against Desiree's firm, bare thighs as she positioned me, making sure my feet didn't quite reach the floor. I squealed in helpless fear, waving my hands around as I felt the cool, smooth surface of the paddle slowly rubbing against my now defenseless cheeks.
   â€śBrian, I've always thought you were very childish from the moment I met you. So I bought this paddle just for you and now you're going to get the childish punishment you've so rightly earned,” she growled.
   I squealed again and struggled against her hold but she held me with a grip of steel as her other hand swooped up, bringing the paddle down with all her strength against my twitching, bare bottom.
   SMACKK!!!
   My mouth opened but my voice momentarily left me.
   SMACKK!!!
   This time, I howled at the top of my lungs in agony as the cruel paddle seared itself across both my tender cheeks, leaving another bright red oval pattern. Hot tears spilled down my face as I openly cried like a baby, my feet kicking wildly behind me. Desiree smacked my cheeks good and hard, over and over, delivering the strict, humiliating punishment she had promised. Slapping the ground desperately before me, I bawled like a toddler as she peppered my soft bottom with her hard, unforgiving paddle. Hot, swollen welts soon covered both cheeks and she moved  her attention to the pink sides, using her seasoned wrist to slap them harshly.
   Megan watched with immense satisfaction, obviously pleased that I was getting my just punishment for all the childish taunts I had made at her expense. This, without a doubt, was the most humiliating experience of my entire life as her mom spanked me like a naughty little boy. I knew it would be several days before I would be able to sit again.
   Again and again, the hard paddle flattened my youthful bottom, each fierce swat like a salvo of buckshot.
    Finally, Desiree stopped her assault on my derriere and she paused as I helplessly sobbed and cried, unable to control myself.
   â€śNow, if you hadn't lied to me, your punishment would be over,” she said as she rubbed the smooth paddle across my scalded, flaming skin, “but since you were a dishonest little sissy with me, now you're going to get some additional swats.”
   I stammered and blubbered out a protest just as her paddle came crashing down again, blistering my cherry red bottom and making it explode with fire. I kicked wildly even as she smacked my buns repeatedly with vicious retribution.
   At long last, she stopped and put the paddle aside. I couldn't stop my crying and Megan looked down at me with neither sympathy or respect.
   Standing me up, Desiree looked me hard in my eyes which were filled with fresh tears. Bawling like a baby, I grabbed my pajama bottoms and swiftly raised them to try and hide my tiny pen-is from the two of them.
   â€śYou and I are going shopping little boy,” she told me firmly as she waved the paddle at me, “We need to get you a supply of diapers and baby panties since you obviously can't be trusted with adult underwear.”


Baby Bobby

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Re: Bedwetters Get Diapers
« Reply #1 on: March 08, 2023, 10:22:59 AM »
I was so utterly humiliated. And it was made worse that I couldn't stop my crying. Megan looked down at me like I was just a errant child, unworthy of her respect, before shaking her head, turning and leaving the room.
   I was about to put my pajama bottom back on when Desiree returned and held a flower-patterned pull-up before me.
   â€śUh-uh. This is what you will wear until we get some proper diapers for you,” she scolded me, “I don't want to take any chances of you wetting your pants while we're out.”
   I burst into fresh tears as she pulled them up my slim, hairless legs, working her long fingernails around the stretchy waistband to make sure it fit correctly. After she finished, she turned me around and swatted me on my padded bottom.
   â€śRun along now and get dressed,” she told me curtly.
    Wiping the tears from my wet face, I stumbled back to my room, my bottom throbbing with pain. I managed to find some jeans that would otherwise have been loose on me—however, it was still going to be obvious I was wearing the pull-up when I zipped them up and buttoned the fly. Looking in the wall mirror at my bulging midsection, I stamped my feet in frustration.
   Ten minutes later, we were driving downtown as I shifted in my seat, unable to get comfortable.
   We pulled up in front of a big box store and Desiree came around to my side of the car, yanking me out and giving my thickly padded seat another swat.
   â€śCome along little boy. Time to get my little baby some diapers and plastic panties.”
   I whimpered with embarrassment as I stumbled after her, the soft bulk of the pull-up making me waddle slightly. Going through the sliding glass doors, we passed a customer holding a box of detergent in her hands and she looked me up and down out of the corner of her eye, her gaze fixed on my big bottom. I blushed and followed my stepmother down the aisles to the infant section where she stopped at the displays of plastic pants. Carefully selecting the largest size available, she held them up before my waist, stretching them between her fingers to estimate whether they would fit. My face was blazing red as I imagined what other customers were thinking.
   There was another mother behind us who was deciding between which sippy cups to purchase and she began looking over at the two of us, obviously wondering about me being fitted for plastic panties.
   â€śYour boy looks a little old to be wearing diapers, isn't he?” she asked.
   I blushed hotly and looked away as Desiree gave her a wry smile.
   â€śHe certainly is. But he's ruined my new mattress with his constant bedwetting so it's pampers and rubber panties for him from now on,” she replied.
   â€śAww, you poor little thing,” she said, although she didn't sound overly sympathetic, “Well, you may have difficulty trying to find the right sizes for him here. I would suggest you go online...I think Rearz.com would be a good starting place—they have adult size diapers and all kinds of plastic and rubber panties that would fit him and give him room to grow.”
   I was mortified to be a part of this conversation, or rather, to have this humiliating conversation about me. Worse yet, was the notion that I'd need diapers for long enough to grow into them!
   Desiree turned to face her directly.
  “Really? You seem to know a lot about this.”
   â€śWell, I have a fifteen year-old bedwetter at home who is kept in diapers 24/7. Some little boys are just natural sissies and they seem to be more comfortable being babied than acting their age. I've had a sturdy crib and a highchair made for him and he enjoys playing with his toys in his playpen.
   â€śMaybe that's what you need too, hmm?” the lady asked me as she smiled and bent down to look at me closer.
   I gulped hard and shook my head as my cheeks blazed red with shame.
   â€śYou're definitely going to be wearing diapers and if you don't behave, I might just follow her suggestion and turn you into a full time toddler,” Desiree said as she wagged her long nailed finger at me.
   â€śPlease-please don't,” I winced.
   â€śThank you so much for the information. I'm going to stock up on a few items we'll be needing here like baby powder, diaper rash cream, pins...anything else you can think of?”
   â€śOh yes, your little sissy is going to need a  waterproof mattress cover and I would also suggest a bedwetting chart to track his progress. That way, everyone can see how he's doing and encourage him when he's had a dry night.”
   â€śI think that's a great idea,” Desiree agreed enthusiastically, “And that way--all your little friends can see how you're doing too.”
   I was appalled at the idea that my friends might learn of my new shameful habit and I swallowed hard in abject fear.
   â€śPlease—I'll try harder,” I pleaded desperately.
   â€śYou'd better,” Desiree snapped, “Or you'll find yourself in diapers during the daytime too.”
   We spent another twenty minutes shopping as my stepmom picked up the various things she thought I would need. When we reached the check out counter, I stared at the floor as the cute sales girl rang us up, giggling and looking me up and down. I could only imagine what she must have been thinking, seeing this pre-pubescent bedwetter in his pull-up before her and stocking up on all of the humiliating baby items I needed.
   Holding up the bedwetting calendar as she scanned it, the sales girl smiled at me and gave me a wink.
   â€śGood luck with your potty-training.”
   Desiree spent the time while we were in line, shopping on her phone and showing me the  various styles of plastic panties that were available, along with cloth and disposable diapers. I cringed at each view, knowing she was placing a big order for me. At last we finally left the store, but not before everyone in line a got a good look at the little boy who needed diapering supplies and a waterproof mattress cover for his bed.
   That evening, Desiree put the cover on my bed (which already smelled strongly of pee) and arranged the diapering supplies on the top of my dresser. Since her order wasn't due to arrive any sooner than tomorrow, I was told to wear the pull-up to bed and we'd hope for the best.
   Alas, maybe it was the stress of the day's events, but while I was asleep, I completely soaked them and even leaked onto the pajamas I was wearing.
   After a hard swat with her paddle, Desiree took the red 'W' sticker and placed it on my new bedwetting calendar, alongside the one she had put for the night before, signifying two wet nights in a row.


Three days later, a large box arrived via FedEx from Rearz.com.
   Desiree opened it in my room and she eagerly took out each item to show me. First, were two dozen cloth diapers, each very fluffy, with a prominently thicker section down the center of them. Next she pulled out pair after pair of plastic panties, all in various nursery prints and pastel colors.
   â€śThere...these will keep your bed dry,” she commented with a smile, “These are just what a little sissy needs.”
   Under any other circ-umstances, I would have argued that I wasn't a sissy but my bottom was still sore from being paddled three days earlier. I certainly didn't want a repeat of that. Instead, I quietly and submissively accepted my new nightwear without a quibble, watching as she filled my dresser drawers with the babyish items.
   Pulling out a package of disposable diapers decorated with clowns and bunnies, she looked over them skeptically.
   â€śHmm, I'm not sure these are going to be absorbent enough for how much you wet. I think we'll stick to cloth diapers for you.”
   Lastly, she pulled out two short tops, each with a toddler-style motif across the chest. One was white and yellow and the other had baby-blue trim. With short, puffy sleeves and a lace lined hem, they looked just like something an infant would wear.
   â€śHere are your new jammies, Brian,” she said, obviously proud of her selection, “Purposely cut short in case your diapers should leak.”
   Looking into the box, I didn't see any matching pants to go with them.
   â€śWhere are the bottoms?” I asked nervously.
   â€śYour diapers will be all the bottoms you need,” she said firmly as she removed my pajama bottoms from my drawer and took them out to the kitchen to throw them in the trash.
   My heart sank as I looked at my new collection of diapers, panties and supplies, fearing my life was about to irrevocably change.





Plateguy

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Re: Bedwetters Get Diapers
« Reply #2 on: March 08, 2023, 08:19:54 PM »
Excellent story as always!

jenniesissy

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Re: Bedwetters Get Diapers
« Reply #3 on: March 09, 2023, 02:40:42 AM »
Wonderful to see you back here, Baby Bobby!  Equally wonderful to have you post another outstanding addition to your superb catalog of stories.  Thank you!

Baby Bobby

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Re: Bedwetters Get Diapers
« Reply #4 on: March 09, 2023, 12:45:45 PM »
Wonderful to see you back here, Baby Bobby!  Equally wonderful to have you post another outstanding addition to your superb catalog of stories.  Thank you!

Nothing comes closer to my heart than a sissy bedwetter being disciplined by his strict Mommy. As a bedwetter myself, I can definitely relate to the scenes of waking up to a soaking wet diaper and fearing the cruel swats of mommy's wooden paddle.

Baby Bobby

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Re: Bedwetters Get Diapers
« Reply #5 on: March 09, 2023, 01:07:24 PM »
That evening after dinner, my stepmom led me to my room and told me to undress.
   â€śB-but it's only 7:30,” I complained bitterly.
   â€śYes, I know, but I want to get you prepared for bed so we don't have to worry about it later,” she explained as she began arranging a thick stack of the cloth diapers one on top of each other.
   I stamped my feet in frustration and anger, knowing there was nothing I could do to stop her.
   Seeing me trying to stall the inevitable, she snapped her fingers in vexation.
   â€śCome on—get those clothes off. And don't make me ask again or your bottom will pay the price.”
   My lower lip trembled and my eyes misted with tears as I reluctantly began undressing before her.
   â€śI-it's not fair,” I pouted miserably.
   Ignoring my protest, she took hold of me by the wrist authoritatively and sat me down on the trio of fluffy white diapers.
   â€śBrian, you have only yourself to blame for this. In this house—bedwetters get diapers, and that's just what you'll be wearing for the foreseeable future. Better get used to it,” she scolded me as she sprinkled baby powder over the tiny cap of my limp pen-is. Along with my minuscule sack, my entire package was about the size of three little grapes. As the infantile, fragrant cloud rose around me, she pulled the bulky but very soft cotton cloth up around my hips and pinned the corners securely in place.
   Just then, Megan poked her head in the doorway, looking down at me with tremendous amusement written all over her pretty face.
   â€śWell, looks like the little bedwetter is finally getting the treatment he deserves,” she said with a smirk.
   I looked away as my cheeks and chest flushed a bright red. After the spanking, this had to be the most humiliating experience of my entire life!
   Shaking out a pair of white nursery print plastic panties, Desiree fed them over my feet and worked them up my legs.
   â€śUp,” she said tersely, as he pulled them up and over the bulging layers of cotton swaddled around my hips.
   Looking down, I gazed at the shiny vinyl, the colorful Disney characters giving the panties a decidedly babyish look. Desiree selected the yellow and white diaper shirt and pulled it over my head, completing my ensemble.
   â€śOh wait—I have just the thing!” Megan said as she disappeared down the hall. She returned a moment later with a pair of short, lacy white anklet socks.
   â€śThis will go perfect with your outfit,” she said as she bent down and began putting them on my feet without waiting for approval from her mom. However, Desiree only looked down at me and smiled, happy her daughter had taken the initiative. Standing over me, she placed her hands on her curvy hips and regarded me with a look of maternal superiority.
   â€śThere. Now you're all ready for beddie-bye. Which by the way, I'm setting back to nine pm from now on. A sissy bedwetter doesn't get to stay up like the adults so that's your new bedtime.”
   Crossing my arms angrily, I sulked in silence as Megan grinned down at me in victory.
   The two strode out of my room, leaving me to contemplate my new status as the childish bedwetter of the house. Standing up, I looked at my humiliating reflection in the mirror. Between the fat, embarrassing diapers, nursery print plastic panties, sissy top and lacy anklets, I looked just like a diaper-dependent toddler who needed his mommy.
   I was determined to keep my diapers dry and I made a point of not drinking anything further until bedtime. Sure enough, at 8:50, my stepmom came into my room and made sure I was ready for bed, turning out the lights as she left. I was left in my bed, listening to life going on normally in the rest of the house while I had been put to bed at a ridiculously early time. In my anger and frustration, I balled my fists and kicked off the covers. However, after several moments pouting in resentment, my hands gradually found their way to the thickly padded front of my diapers. I discovered that the prissy plastic panties felt wonderfully soft to the touch, along with the fluffy cotton diapers contained within them. Rubbing the pillowy front, I sighed with pleasure at this new and strange sensation. To be sure, it was beyond humiliating to be wearing the babyish underwear but my tiny pen-is twitched with excitement as I caressed the vinyl material. In  no time, it had grown to it's rock hard length of nearly two inches and I closed my eyes in pleasure. Memories of Megan's tight, breast-hugging, fitted top swam into my consciousness and I came explosively in my diapers within thirty seconds.
   In my post-orgasm bliss, I slowly drifted off to sleep.

krystalasbaby2017

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Re: Bedwetters Get Diapers
« Reply #6 on: March 11, 2023, 06:32:20 AM »
Yes i too was a bedwetter at that age, and if not nappied at night i would still wet my bed.  I love shopping at Rearz got some more nappies and pins and another onsie coming on Tuesday.  Hope the sissy ends up nappied 24/7 and has all the baby items he needs.

 

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