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Asking for It – Week Two
By Diaper Spanks

 

I was on my best behavior all week. With the threat of spankings renewed I had no interest in mischief, a fact my parents praised me for; and my friends mocked me for. As the weekend approached I both dreaded and anxiously awaited my promised Sunday discipline. I hated that ass whipping I had gotten the week before, but I wanted to be a good boy and knew that being spanked help me be one.

Sunday arrived, and I started getting more nervous by the minute. So it was almost a relief when Dad came into my room with his belt in his hand just after noon. “Son, come out to the garage with me.”

“I thought... bedtime” I stammered, suddenly frightened.

“Your mother and I are going to a movie tonight, so unless you want to get it in front of your sitter, you best come on.” He explained, and I jumped up from my chair and followed him, not wanting an audience for what I had asked for.

 

In the garage I found dad had laid out an old area rug, and in the center of it was an old ottoman that he had extended the legs on to make a spanking bench. It was leather and well padded... at least my front would be comfortable, I thought to myself.

“Strip down to your panties and have a seat.” He said and pointed to the bench. I took my shirt and shoes off with no pain, but was surprisingly ashamed to lower my pants I swallowed hard, and then slid them down exposing my diaper and rubber pants. Of course Dad knew that Mom had decided to extend my diaper use as her part of contributing to my discipline, but this was the first time he saw me in a diaper... and worse yet, I knew it was wet. I had peed while gaming on my computer and again when Dad had called for the whipping to commence. I was shaking now, but got my pants off and sat on the ottoman.

Dad pulled his bar stool over from his work bench and sat across from me. He put a large hand on my shoulder. “Relax; I know my little boy wees on himself.” He said with a smile and I smiled too as it was funny to hear him say wee. “Before we start do you have anything you want to confess?”

“Huh? I asked confused.

“Any naughtiness you feel bad about and want included in your punishment?”

“Oh. I... uh... I didn't do my math homework the other day and got a zero for it. That's it I think.”

“That's not so bad... but school work is important and must be done Son.

“Yes Sir.”

“Okay, stand up and put your hands on your head.” Dad instructed, and I obeyed. He reached for my waterproof pants and unsnapped the left side, and then the right before pulling the vinyl panty off of me. He then untapped my diaper and removed it rolling it up into itself and closing it with the tapes like Mom does. She must have taught him. He put the diaper in the trash, and set the panty on the washing machine before returning to me. “Alright now, turn around and bend over.” He said, as he folded the belt in half.

“I want you to think about being a good boy, helping your Mother and doing your work. Understand?” I nodded, and a moment later the first stroke of Dad's belt landed on my backside. I yelped and realized Dad had not sock gagged me. Somehow through the pain I knew this meant he was expecting me to take my punishment like a big boy.

The second and third strikes were both harder than the one before, and he continued to increase his intensity through the tenth smack. He paused then for a moment and said “Brace yourself.” I grabbed the edges of the ottoman and clenched my teeth as the eleventh, twelfth and thirteenth stroke landed. They were slightly softer than the tenth, but came in quicker succession, as did the next seven in the set. He paused again, allowing me to re-position myself and catch my breath. Then came ten more, fast and hard and I finally began to cry, something I just then realized I hadn't been doing already. I took 20 without tears! I was proud of myself, even as I bawled like a baby through the 30th.

“And now: the homework issue.” Dad announced and I felt another lick, different than the others. It didn't land as hard, but stung and burned more. I looked back to see Dad holding a wooden paddle. “Like it?” He asked and I shook my head NO furiously. “Good.” He responded then returned to his work. I got ten with the paddle, and five with his hand 'for good measure' before he announced the session complete and instructed me to sit again. I did so, tenderly, and Dad retook his seat.

“I'm very proud of you, you know. Admitting to needing strict discipline mustn't have been easy... but it is good for you. You're growing up to be a good man, and that means you'll be a good father to your kids someday.” I was filled with pride at his words, and started to tear up again with emotion. Dad held his arms open, and I got up and wrapped my arms around him in a big hug. “I love you.” we both said, and hugged for a good minute before he signaled for me to release him.

 

Dad had me stand beside the spanking bench slash ottoman as he produced a fresh diaper from a box by his workbench. I saw then that there were three identical boxes... cases of diapers! This was not a situation that my parents expected to end anytime soon!

Dad unfolded the diaper, and laid it out on the ottoman, then had me sit on the brief and lean back as far as I could without falling, while he pulled the diaper through my legs and applied the tape tabs. I got up and Dad adjusted one of the tapes and checked the fit for snugness. He picked up my shirt and pants and took them over the washer adding them to the pile created by the vinyl panty. He reached into a basket of clean laundry and pulled out a white shirt. “Stick em up!” He kidded with a finger-gun motion and I lifted my arms high into the air as he threaded the shirt over my arms and head.

But it wasn't a plain old shirt I realized as Dad reached between my legs and fastened the back of the shirt to the front with several pop-snaps. It was a one-piece baby shirt! I looked up at Dad and he just smiled. “Just go with it, your mom thinks you'll find it comfortable. And you do look adorable in your onesie” He added with a chuckle. “Now go back to your little game. We'll call you down when your sitter gets here.

“I can't wear this when John is here!” I said referring to my sitter.

“Of course you can, Mom's already told him he's getting a raise since there's diaper-changing involved now.”

“Ugh!” I moaned embarrassed.

“Go play, it'll be fine.”

I padded off to my room with my bottom on fire, thickly padded and snuggled by my body suit. How could I be both a good big boy and a little baby boy at the same time? And yet... that's exactly what I was!

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