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Rainbow Diapers
A space where our Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Trans members can discuss related issues.
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Posts
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By diaperguy85 · Posted
Yay the story of Maddie's decent into diapers continues!! 🥳 Welcome back! Poor girl's going to really regret not putting on the damn pull-up when she had the chance! I see a detoured trip home, some desperate holding, or just simply a surprise wet car cushion by the time they get home. I really don't put the blame solely on mom and dad for mistaking UTI symptoms for puberty. Some women have rough and crappy periods that do lay them up for the time. Also the fact that Maddie hid some symptoms from them, mostly I think out of sheer embarrassment and plain ignorance on the subject. She is after all, right at that age when that happens. Aside from me reading everything again (which I may do anyway), can someone tell me why Maddie has such an intense hatred/dislike to Hannah? Is it the diagnosis of her ADHD and/or Hannah's autism that shook her up? The intense embarrassment of wetting herself infront of her friends during the storm? Somewhere I must have missed it, and can't really figure why the hatred. Also, poor delusional girl! Thinking she can simply turn off her attraction to diapers! 😋 She'll be in for a surprise! Can't wait for the next installment! -
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By cute little kokiri girl · Posted
Several deep breaths later Angela stood, once again, in the hallway armed and ready. “Hello? I understand it’s raining but you can’t stay here. You’ve had your fun but now it’s time for you to go. The police’ll be here soon.” Angela adjusted the small canister in her hand. “Hey friend! Don’t mess around. Just come out. Look, I have a little money I could give you. You just need you to go!” The creaking noise answered again. Nervous but determined Angela slowly climbed the wooden stairs. Every bend of the wood signaled her ascent. Surprise was not an element of this operation. The long hallway was smothered in darkness. Angela paused wearily then reached for the switch. The dim light cast a small portion of illumination down the wood paneled hallway. Angela stopped and admired the textured beauty of the carvings that adorned the hall. But her revelries were interrupted again. “Angela, come here now.” the voice boomed. This time there was a different quality in the tone. It sounded full and authoritative. “Who are you? How do you know my name?” Angela continued. “Come here.” Angela surmised the final door on the left was the source of the voice and drifted toward the half open entrance. She tightly gripped her spray canister and gently pushed the oak door open. The door moved inward, and Angela braced herself. She had expected the occupant to be some wild indigent, but she immediately relaxed. Standing in the middle of the room was a well-dressed man in a brown suit. He was tall with a small mustache and thinning black hair. He was striking but nothing about his presence warranted concern. And in contrast to the rest of the house this room seemed warm and inviting. “Who are you?” Angela managed to vocalize. “What are you doing here?” “I’m Mr. Gerner.” he answered calmly. “I thought everyone was gone. I didn’t know anyone was still here.” she said. The man nodded and moved back to his desk. His movement conveyed he was a muscular man. Angela imagined in his younger days he had been very handsome. Mr. Gerner sat down at his desk and turned his attention to a few papers. His manner was brusque but professional. An attitude with which Angela was familiar. She stealthily moved the small cannister into her coat pocket. It was out of sight but still close. Angela watched the man make notes while she waited. During the silence she pondered how to usher him out of the house. Once or twice the man looked up at Angela as if he were documenting her. His steely blue eyes made her feel self-conscious. “Hey, pretty good costume huh?” Angela casually forced. She gestured awkwardly to her school uniform. Interrupted, the dour man looked up and met Angela’s smile which slowly faded. “It’s Halloween.” she added. “I know.” he dismissed. The clock was ticking so Angela started her strategy of removing the interloper. She assumed this man was some random administrator or a tour guide working late. Unaware of her outward appearance she invoked her business voice. The image was humorous. The small fresh- faced schoolgirl filled with false authority. “I don’t mean to be rude but...” Angela began. The man rose from his desk oblivious to Angela’s words. “Well, young lady let’s get to it.” Mr. Gerner stated flatly. “What? Get to what? Look I think you should...” Suddenly the man grabbed Angela’s right wrist with his left hand. The force exhibited strength beyond what he outwardly displayed. “Let go of me! What the hell is wrong with you?” Angela shouted. But Mr. Gerner remained immune and dragged her around his desk. Angela instinctively reached for her pocket but had to twist with his movements to avoid banging her exposed leg on the corner of the desk. The small cannister of pepper spray emerged then hit the floor and rolled away. When they reached the other side of the desk, Mr. Gerner cleared his throat and sat down. Angela joined him. Mr. Gerner pulled Angela as he sat and stretched his left arm out and away from his body. Angela, still firmly tethered, could only stretch too. This contortion threw her entire center of gravity far forward until the inevitable happened. In one grand fluid motion Mr. Gerner exaggerated his reach out and down Miss Angela came squarely over his lap. Faced with this obvious position Angela began to struggle. Mr. Gerner calmly answered by wrenching her arm farther up her back which elicited a squeal from Angela. A string of expletives escaped and morphed into coherency. “You maniac this is assault! I’ll have you arrested!” she yelled. But Mr. Gerner ignored her outburst and quietly peeled her short tartan skirt up her back. Minus any panties Angela immediately felt the rush of cold air. It cascaded across her white bottom only for a moment before it was interrupted by Mr. Gerner’s right hand. The solid impact from Mr. Gerner’s right hand transformed Angela’s expletives into a solid scream. She bucked and writhed but Mr. Gerner merely tightened his grip and added extra slaps. The spanking was steady, and Angela could feel her rear get hotter and hotter. Soon Angela’s tears were flowing freely, and she struggled to catch her breath. Then, just as suddenly as the spanking had begun, it stopped. For Angela it felt like minutes as she lay bare and exposed over the powerful man’s lap. She didn’t dare move. Finally, he spoke. “Now, stand up and place your hands on your head.” His tone was calm but there was a menace lingered behind it. Angela, still in shock, nodded meekly and obeyed. She had no desire to test him. He released her and helped her to her feet. For a moment, she thought she might dart for the door but knew she would never make it. After setting Angela in place Mr. Gerner returned to his desk work. He seemed oblivious to her presence, but Angela remained motionless in the middle of the room. Tears roll down her cheeks complimented by an occasional sniffle. Eventually, her breathing steadied and her mind returned. Angela berated herself for leaving her purse downstairs. Originally, Mr. Gerner appeared normal but, in today’s world that can be misleading. Her predicament weighed heavily upon her. Fear crept up on her like an unwanted companion. She had no idea what her captor had planned. A myriad of horrible images played through her head. He could rape her, beat her or even kill her. Keeping her body still Angela used her eyes. They darted around the tiny room for an impromptu weapon. There was nothing. Of course, Angela was faced one way. She was planted to the right of the desk forward of Mr. Gerner. Her back was to the door. Slyly she adjusted her head and peered left. The image she encountered gave her a shock. Any confidence Angela had mustered in these past few moments drained out of her. In the mirror on her left was a young student clad in a school uniform. Her hair was pulled back into a girlish ponytail which revealed her tear stained face. And the gleaming red bare bottom painted an accurate portrait of a punished schoolgirl. Angela did not even recognize herself. The uniform and spanking had transformed her from a smart businesswoman into a naughty schoolgirl. As if on cue, Mr. Gerner finished writing, rose, and moved toward Angela. She began to shake. “Alright, now we can continue.” The word reverberated in her ears. She impulsively lunged towards the door. “Oh, no you don’t you naughty girl!” Mr. Gerner admonished as he blocked her exit. Angela’s fists flew at him, but the advance was countered. Mr. Gerner wrapped his hands around her wrists. This time he had both of her hands. He wrenched them both high above her head and danced Angela on tip toes back to the familiar spot. A firm swat on her bottom tipped her over his lap once again. He pinned both of her wrists forcibly into her back. Any movement was futile and verbal threats were answered with additional reprimands from his hands. There was small pause then spanking commenced. Angela howled as the wooden paddle contacted her tender flesh. Angela writhed and caught a glimpse of the dreaded instrument. It was the paddle from the display case! “How did he get that?” she thought. But there was no time for contemplation. The wooden demon descended for a second time which elicited a loud yell from Angela. The paddling continued for several minutes although the swats did not come as frequently. Mr. Gerner hardly seemed to tire as he alternated his pops from one cheek to the other. Angela spent almost four days a week at the gym accompanied by Yoga. This regimen had maintained her youthful slim appearance. An absolute must in her industry. But in her current state no one viewing this display would be confused as to its nature. This was a punishment spanking. Angela’s firm bottom bounced repeatedly as her sore bottom increased into darker shades of red. It was madness! She was thirty-two. She owned her own successful business. She was a terror to her peers and adored by men and hated by women. Yet here she was being spanked like a naughty schoolgirl! Angela had played spanking games before with various lovers but not like this. This was real. Her bottom was on fire! She begged and pleaded for him to stop but the paddle continued. “No more! Please!” Angela sobbed. The paddle popped again, and Angela found herself reiterating words from twenty years ago. “I’ll be good! I swear, I’ll be good from now on!” Then it stopped. Angela was spent. Mr. Gerner lifted the exhausted girl off his lap. She sobbed. Mr. Gerner gently took hold of her shoulders and escorted her into another room. Across the hall was a large room. In one corner were several small desks piled high. And at the far end there was an expansive chalkboard. Mr. Gerner guided Angela to it and placed a piece of chalk into her trembling hand. “Write one hundred times, I am a very naughty girl and deserve to be punished.” Mindlessly Angela toddled to the board and began her task. Satisfied Mr. Gerner disappeared back into his office and switched on his radio. Sounds of Tommy Dorsey echoed through the empty house. The music mixed with rain outside and faded into a dreamy cocktail. Angela wrote her lines. It was late. Halloween was almost over. Angela awoke from her slumber to a symphony of sounds. Doors slammed, footsteps pounded, and birds chirped. Franklin followed by three policemen burst into the ancient classroom. Startled by their appearance Angela leapt up muttering excuses. “I’m sorry sir, I must’ve fallen asleep. But I’m finished, see? Please don’t spank me!” she pleaded. Franklin and the officers watched incredulously as Angela scrawled the final word “punished”. They were astonished. Franklin wrapped the “schoolgirl” in a blanket and escorted her away. The night’s events were documented and sorted. And, after a time, Angela Baker resumed her life but with difficulty. Exaggerated rumors of her strange behavior quickly spread throughout the town. Mortified by taunts and inuendo Angela moved away. Fortunately, the status of the Marston House was reinstated, and the clerical mistakes were rectified. And the rumors of the strange events only helped to increase the tour groups. Guests arrived by busloads to gawk and take pictures. They wandered the house and ground in a great hope to see anything odd. But no one ever did. Had even one guest been observant they might have noticed the previous grim but now smiling portrait of Horace M. Gerner. Underneath the plaque read “Headmaster - Marston School for Girls. Born - February 16, 1896 – Died - October 31, 1945”.
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