Back to Basics (Chapter Four)

This has been written for a US audience by a guest writer. Thanks to James for allowing me to publish it on my Patreon.

Mom moved the bottom of my tee-shirt out of the way. 

“Ok, Adam, here’s how it’s done. Sprinkle some powder on the diaper where it will cover his rear, then sprinkle some on his front, then get him to lift up--lift your butt, Wayne—slide the diaper under him, like that, bring it up between his legs, and pin it securely on either side, there…and there. Be careful with the pins, and make sure you pin it tight to avoid leaks. Then just slide his rubber or plastic pants all the way up—lift up again, Wayne---making sure the diaper is completely inside. Like so. Think you can manage that?”

“Duh, I dunno,” Adam said, and laughed. “Man, does he ever look like a dweeb! A baby dweeb!”

“And if you have to spank him, don’t spank harder than I did, and no more than thirty strokes, maximum.”

“So I actually get to spank him?” Adam asked. “Bonus!”

“Only if he gives you good reason, and only after consulting with me or your father.” 

This was incredible. Not only was my technically younger brother going to be putting me in diapers, but he even had permission to use corporal punishment on me, something I had no doubt he’d take advantage of. Too much!

So here I was, totally defeated, humiliatingly spanked and in diapers in front of my mother and step-brother.

 The diaper felt really thick and bulging on me, and felt very strange between my legs. 

The rubber pants made noise at the slightest movement, and I reeked of baby powder. This was total and complete mortification, with no end in sight.

“Now let that spanking be a lesson to you, Wayne,” my Mom said. “We have better things to be doing than to be changing your diapers, so you just cooperate fully or you’ll get a spanking every time. Is that clear? The strap is going to stay right here in your room as a reminder.” 

She put it on top of my dresser; later it would hang in my closet. I wasn’t thinking clearly, but I had already decided that whatever happened, I would do whatever it took to avoid another spanking.

“Can I have pants?”

“No. I think until further notice you can just wear your diapers and rubber pants and think about why you need to be in them. None of your pants would fit over them anyway.”

“But everyone will see me!” This made Adam laugh.

“Well that’s your problem. The solution is to stop wetting the bed and then you won’t need to wear diapers.”

“Or baby pants,” Adam helpfully added.

When my step-father saw me in my diapers later he just shook his head. It was clear he thought I was some kind of disgrace, while his precious Adam could do no wrong. It made me feel even worse to see the waistband of Adam’s boxer shorts peeking out of the top of his jeans, a reminder of how low I’d fallen. 

It didn’t help when he ‘playfully’ swatted me on my sore backside through my rubber pants. 

For once I couldn’t wait for bedtime, but had a hard time falling asleep. Partly it was the intense shame of my spanking and my first night back in diapers, but also from the bulk of the diaper and the heat from the rubber pants.

I woke up in the middle of the night temporarily forgetting about my awful new situation until my hand touched my smooth rubber pants, and my shame came flooding back to me (no pun intended). 

Now I had as just much in common with a baby as with the sixteen year old I wanted to be. I was also soaking wet, but for once the bed wasn’t.

After a few minor leaks and more complaints from Adam about imagined urine smells, my Mom decided to add flannelette baby diapers to what I was already wearing. She made me go to Wal-Mart after school and buy a package of 10 Snugabye 27x27 inch diapers, two of which she (or Adam, but my Dad has never changed me) would fold in thirds lengthwise and add to the inside of my Babykins. 

It added some bulk, but it’s not as if someone was going to notice because of that when I was already obviously wearing thick diapers and plastic or rubber pants and was waddling around like an infant. 

But buying diapers is risky and embarrassing, and there’s a rule that if something can go wrong when the stakes are that high it will, and it did. 

I was waiting in line at the checkout, doing my best to hide the package of diapers. To my relief they finally ended up in a bag, bought and paid for. 

But when I left the store I ran smack into three kids from my school, Kevin Jones and two other boneheads. The problem was that the logo and lettering on the Snugabyes were visible through the thin department store plastic bag. 

I did my best to conceal it, but Kevin noticed. Maybe he had a baby brother and recognized the package.