Seven Wet Nights
The pastor droned on endlessly from his pulpit, delivering essentially the same message he did every Sunday but today, his words were lost on me. Truth be told, I found it all tediously boring and under any other circ-umstances, I would be anxious to get out and go home.
However, today of all days, I was dreading the end of his sermon.
I was sitting next to my mom, wearing my shorts, a collared shirt and that detestable bow tie--the same outfit she always made me wear to church. You'd think that at 13, she'd let me wear something that wasn't so childish but no--not my mom. She thought I looked "cute" in it, and I knew better than to argue with her.
The other thing I hated about these shorts was that they fit so snug over my training pants, it made them impossible to hide. To make matters worse, I had already managed to wet them, and they surrounded me now with their soggy warmness. The pink plastic panties covering them made sure I wouldn't leak but when I sat down, they could be plainly seen through the wide cut leg holes of my shorts. On the other hand, no one was facing me but I knew that even when I stood up, sometimes the shorts rode up in back and offered a cheeky view of my trainers and plastic panties. It was SO humiliating!
But I digress...
I was dreading the end of the sermon because today was Sunday, and my bedwetting chart at home had seven consecutive red 'W's on it, attesting to the fact I hadn't had a dry night all week. Besides my mom's usual method of dealing with the problem with diapers and plastic panties, she also had a policy of giving me a blistering spanking whenever I had acc-umulated seven 'W's in a row. She had warned me about it today at breakfast, telling me I could look forward to a trip over her lap when we got home from church, and now I was beside myself with anxiety.
My mom possessed a stout wooden paddle, one of those kinds with "air holes" which really, really stings. She's never once failed to bring me to tears with it and I fidgeted in my seat with nervous, fearful anticipation.
At last, the sermon ended and the parishioners began filing out of the church. My mom took my hand, a gesture that always grated on me, signifying to everyone around that I was still just a little boy in need of his mommy. As we made our way through the crowd, we crossed paths with one of her friends, a woman named Kathy. She was tall, slim, with a very narrow waist and an impressive bosom. Today she was dressed in a tight fitting skirt and a peach colored blouse that clung deliciously to her big, beautiful breasts.
"Hello Melissa," she said as she smiled and hugged my mom briefly, "How have you been?"
They exchanged pleasantries while I stood there, totally ignored by them, biting my lip and shuffling my feet as I waited impatiently for their meeting to end. I didn't think it was possible to be bored and nervous at the same time but I was.
From time to time, I would steal glances at Kathy's bountiful chest, eager to see the white lacy bra she was wearing underneath her thin, filmy blouse.
"And how is our little bedwetter?" she asked suddenly after catching me red-handed staring at her breasts.
I blushed furiously and averted my eyes to the ground.
"We're going to be dealing with that little problem when we get home, aren't we Brian?" my mom prodded me.
My cheeks burned with humiliation as they both looked at me expectantly.
"Kath--maybe you'd like to come over and see how we handle bedwetters at my house?" she asked her sexy friend, "Brian here has earned himself a spanking and I think he could benefit from a little company."
I shot her an anxious look of pleading and tugged on her hand.
"Please mom," I whimpered, "I don't want her to see me get..."
Somehow, I couldn't finish the sentence.
"You should have thought about that before you wet your bed for the seventh night in a row," she said sharply.
Right at that moment, a mother and her teenage daughter happened to be walking by and they stared at me awkwardly, making me blush all over again.
"That would be perfect!" Kathy exclaimed, "And I can bring over that little 'present' for Brian that we talked about."
The two exchanged knowing looks and I could only nervously speculate what it would be, although I suspected deep down it would not be something I wanted.
"Wonderful. Stop by any time," my mom told her.
"Okay, I'll just go by my house on the way and then I'll see you in about a half hour."
"Great--see you then," my mom said casually as she pulled me by the hand to our car.
"Does she have to come over?" I bleated miserably.
"Yes she does--maybe you should try a little harder to keep your diapers dry," she replied as she emphasized her point with a hard swat on my padded bottom.
Even though my thick trainers provided some protection from the impact of her hand, I nevertheless let out a yelp of distress.
The drive home was uneventful except that now I was doubly nervous about what was waiting for me there. And to make matters worse, the soggy wet cloth of my trainers was conspiring to make my cheeks sensitive and tender, which I knew from experience would make the spanking hurt that much worse.
Although Kathy had babysat me numerous times, she had never seen my mom spank me or done it herself. I was absolutely dreading getting my punishment in her presence and I felt tears coming to my eyes.
When we got home, I shuffled slowly into the house, each step taking me closer to the humiliating paddling that I knew was coming.
"Brian, you can play in your room while you're waiting," my mom informed me.
I hung my head as I dragged my feet to my bedroom. The last thing on my mind was playing with my toys and my stomach was churning with anxious nerves.
As I sat on the edge of my bed, the familiar sound of the waterproof mattress cover crinkled noisily beneath me. The diaper pail next to my bed had it's lid shut but I could still smell the faint scent of pee emanating from it. To be sure, there could be no doubt to anyone entering the room that a bedwetter slept here.
I watched the Mickey Mouse clock on my dresser slowly ticking away as I sat there, too nervous to do anything. How could I deal with Kathy watching me as I cried like a baby and kicked my feet during my spanking?
When the knock at the front door finally occurred, I nearly jumped in fright.
I heard the two of them talking in hushed voices, and I wondered what it was they were discussing. I knew my punishment was at hand--I was only moments from going over my mom's knee!
"Brian!" my mom called out to me, "Come out here, it's time for your spanking."
I let out a sob of despair as I trudged out to the kitchen where the two of them were waiting.
My mom was sitting on an armless chair, the oval paddle waiting on her firm lap.
Keeping my eyes downcast, I shuffled over to her, unable to look up at our pretty visitor. My mouth was dry and my heart was beating wildly in my chest.
"Do you know why you're getting a spanking?" she asked me pointedly.
I nodded my head but continued staring at the floor.
"Look at me when I'm talking to you," she said sharply as she grasped my chin in her slim hand and made me look into her eyes.
I held her steely gaze as she continued lecturing me in front of Kathy.
"Tell us why you're getting a spanking today," she ordered me.
"Because I wet the bed again," I said, practically in a whisper.
"Tell our friend the rule we have in this house," she prompted me.
I cleared my throat nervously.
"If-if I wet the bed-um, seven times in a row, I-I get a spanking," I sobbed.
"That's right little boy," she replied, "And I think a day spent in diapers today will help you to remember your lesson."
My spirits sank as she began unzipping my shorts and I whimpered with embarrassment. All too soon, my humiliating pink plastic panties were revealed and I looked up briefly to see Kathy smiling at me. With one sharp tug, my mom yanked both my wet trainers and plastic panties down my legs. My hand shot down to cover my privates but my mom jerked me forcefully over her lap.
Softly rubbing my damp bottom with her paddle, my mom continued to scold me like I was a child.
"It's time for you to grow up, Brian. You are going to learn to control your wetting or I'm going to start putting you in diapers during the day, everyday--Is that what you want?" she snapped.
"Nooo!" I sobbed pathetically.
"Then you better start acting your age instead of like a little toddler."
The paddle swooped up and then came down with a resounding impact on both of my cheeks. I howled out in pain and immediately burst into tears.
My mom spanks very hard and she certainly wasn't holding back today. The paddle rained down on my soft, defenseless cheeks, turning them a bright, angry shade of red in no time. I kicked and cried, desperately pounding my fists on the floor before me.
Kathy, who was sitting in the chair opposite us, had crossed her sexy legs and was avidly watching me bawl my eyes out like a baby. Meanwhile, my mom continued swatting my bottom mercilessly, often hitting the same spot two or three times in a row. Her paddle felt like a red hot frying pan and the tears tumbled down my cheeks in endless profusion.
At long last, the humiliating punishment was finally over. She helped me to my shaky feet where I wept openly and unashamedly before the two of them.
My hands were rubbing my blazing hot, stinging bottom and through the tears filling my eyes, I could make out Kathy fishing something out of her purse.
"Yes, keep your hands right where they are," my mom instructed me as she took something from her friend.
"Do you think it will fit? Is it going to be small enough?" she asked.
"It's the smallest one available," Kathy replied.
I felt my mom pulling my privates through a pink plastic ring, after which she pulled my pen-is through so that the ring was positioned behind my sack.
"Wha-what are you d-doing?" I asked between sobs.
"Since you like to act like a toddler, I'm going to make sure you can't use your little pen-is here for any 'adult' pleasure."
She held a short, pink tube, shaped like the end of a pen-is and after coating my own with a little oil, slipped it over my shaft, filling the tube to capacity.
"No-please, please don't," I begged her as I tried to push her hands away.
Swatting my own aside, she mated the tube with the ring which compressed my little pen-is inside it, limiting any growth to about an inch and a half. On its side, there was a small hole and my mom inserted a narrow key into it and twisted it, securing the lock inside the device before removing the key.
"There," she said with satisfaction as she looked up into my shocked face, "Your days of masturbating are now over."
A fresh set of tears streamed down my face as I looked down at my imprisoned genitals.
"What--you think I didn't know all about you playing with yourself?" she demanded.
I was too ashamed to answer.
"Well, now that that's taken care of, it's time to put you into your diapers."
I cried as she led me back to my bedroom, sitting me down on the changing table as she took a fresh set of diapers from the stack next to us.
"It's good for Kathy to see you getting changed, that way she can do it when she's babysitting you," she told me as sprinkled me with fragrant baby powder.
I looked away in humiliation as she pulled the sides together and pushed the bunny headed diaper pins through, enclosing me in my embarrassing, babyish underwear.
"Kathy--would you like to pick out a pair of plastic panties for our little boy here," she asked.
"Oh--absolutely," she replied with enthusiasm.
Sifting through the many pairs available, she picked out a white one with teddy bears and rattles decorating it.
"That'll be very pretty for our diapered little toddler today," my mom said approvingly.
Kathy gathered the leg holes open and positioned them at my feet.
"Ready for your baby panties?" she asked with a big smile.
I was still wearing my dress shoes from church and she pulled the crinkly waterproof panties up my ankles and thighs, working them over the thick, bulky cloth of the diapers. Glancing up, I saw her still beaming down at me and my cheeks and chest burned with humiliation while she fitted the shameful panties around my hips.
My mom finished by powdering between my legs where they rubbed up against my diapers.
"There, stand up now, so we can make sure all the cloth is inside your panties," she instructed me.
I whimpered with embarrassment as I stood before them, feeling like an overgrown toddler as Kathy tugged at the elastic waistband.
"Well--look at you--don't you look cute!" she exclaimed.
My cheeks buzzed at this mortifying experience and I bunched my fists in impotent fury.
"Can-can I put some pants on now?" I sobbed in exasperation.
"These are all the pants you need today, mister," my mom said as she swatted the thick seat of my diapers, "Better get used to it."
Standing me in front of the full length mirror on the wall, the two stood behind me, forcing me to gaze at my humiliating reflection.
"This is what happens to sissy bedwetters in our house," she told Kathy.
"I think you and I are going to get along just fine," Kathy said as she reached down and squeezed my bottom.
I sulked miserably as they walked out of my room.
THE END