Back to Basics (Chapter Three)

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

That evening I felt every second ticking by, bringing me ever closer to my doom. 

My diapers and waterproof pants (Adam couldn’t resist calling them my ‘baby pants’) were still in their bag on a chair in the kitchen, a reminder to me whenever I came near that this nightmare was real. 

My Dad examined one of the diapers and a pair of the rubber pants and shook his head, as if I was the most pathetic creature he had ever seen. Adam saw the disappointed look.

“Well, at least now his bed will stay dry,” my brother said.

At around eight o’clock my Mom appeared with the bag of my supplies plus the diaper pins and powder and said “Ok, it’s time. Let’s go upstairs. First go and get your brother. Like I said, he needs to learn how to diaper you. She never minced words.” 

So I had to find Adam and somehow tell him that it was time for me to be diapered. 

He didn’t make it easy, and made me almost spell it out. “Mom wants you to come upstairs.”

“Why?”

“You know why.”

“No I don’t. Why?”

“You know. The bedtime thing”

“Oh right! I forgot! She’s going to put you in diapers, ‘cause you’re a big baby bedwetter. Ok, let’s go.”

I had just assumed my Mom would change me on my bed, but I guess she considered it too low for her sore back, and decided to use the much higher plain work table that was in our room. 

It’s about 5 ½ feet long, the type you might buy at Office Depot or whatever, and it easily doubled as a change table. This sort of threw me for a loop, especially when she placed my new quilted change pad on it. It really looked like an oversized infant’s change table. 

She chose a diaper, and a pair of rubber pants, and then took some diaper pins from one of the packages. The baby powder was standing nearby. 

All this ‘baby’ stuff and my unwilling role in it was overwhelming, and I was numb. 

Again. It was all happening before my eyes, but I still couldn’t believe I was about to be put in diapers. Sure I was a bedwetter, but this was too much.

“Alright Wayne, take off your pants and underwear, and hop up on the change pad. You can keep your tee-shirt on.” 

My brother had a sadistic grin on his face. “Adam, I want you to observe how I do this, so that you can diaper him as well when I’m not available, or just to give me a break. And here I thought I was all finished with changing diapers.”

“Why can’t I just do it?” I asked pathetically.

“Because I’m taking control of your wetting because you won’t. Later on, if you show you’re responsible, you might earn that privilege, but for now I will do the diapering, and your brother will help.” 

So I could ‘earn’ the ‘privilege’ of diapering myself if I was lucky. Some privilege! But I still hadn’t moved.

“Did you hear what I said? Pants and underwear off! Now!”

I guess the shame of it all was making me slow, almost paralyzed. Having to submit to the indignity of being diapered like a baby in front of my mocking step-brother was too much for me. 

He had never even seen me naked, even though we shared a room. That’s how shy I was. And of course my mother hadn’t seen me without pants on for a long, long time. Things were happening too fast.

“Very well. Young man, you just earned yourself a spanking. Darn it, you’re going to see that I mean business. Adam, please go to the closet in my room and get the leather strap you’ll find hanging there.”

This hadn’t been used before. It had been my real father’s, and was apparently used occasionally on him and his brothers as boys. 

Just the faintest hint of its possible use had always been enough to keep me in line. Now it was actually going to be used on me for the first time. 

I was shocked, scared, and horrified. A real spanking! With the strap! What a disgrace! Was this really happening?

“Wayne, you can do like I said, or I’ll get your father and Adam to help me, and you’ll just get extra, believe me. It’s up to you.”

It finally sunk in that it was futile to resist, and in a moment I was wearing only my tee-shirt and socks. I was hugely embarrassed, and I think probably crimson from head to toe. I was shaking.

“Fine. Now you can lean over the table and wait for your spanking to begin.” 

I did as I was told, excruciatingly conscious of my nakedness, and in a few moments Adam was back with the strap.

He didn’t say anything, but I figured he must be very amused. I stole a disbelieving backward glance at it as he handed it to my mother. 

It was of dark brown leather, about 2 ½ feet long, four or five inches wide, and looked quite thick. It had a wooden handle. I had seen it before, of course, but it never looked so menacing, so scary. 

My Mom made me wait what seemed like forever before I felt the first bite of the leather on my butt. (I later found out that this delay was a deliberate technique to increase the anticipation and humiliation of the ordeal.) 

After the first slow ten strokes I was crying from both shame and pain, and at fifteen I wanted to beg her to stop, but the spanking continued for ten more stinging whacks.

My butt was on fire when she finally stopped and told me to get on the ‘change table’. 

I had no fight in me and just lay there on the change pad as she picked up a diaper. My brother seemed sort of in awe of what he was seeing.