Klingon bride

Always loving and nurturing. Lots of kisses and tickles and hugs. Some little ones require more direction and/or correction than others, and usually a stern voice and maybe some timeout is sufficient. Spankings from me are pretty rare and always followed by hugs and kisses.

I'm just north of Greensboro! Didn't realize that there were this many others close by.

And I'm in the Greensboro/Triad area! Welcome!

Excellent story! I can't wait for the next installment. My interest and imagination are piqued, and while I'm thinking of all sorts of next adventures, I'll be content to wait for you! (But hurry up, would you?! LOL!) My only suggestion - some parts were a little tough to sort out - who was talking, to whom, etc. If you ever want someone to proof grammar and punctuation, I'll be happy to help. (Yes, I AM the little sitting here in a diaper and a shirt that says, "I'm silently correcting your grammar"! But whether you want help with that or not - this is an absolutely EXCELLENT beginning!

Well, I'm ready for bed, and the Klingon insists that I share my experiences. I was very naughty today - and I suspect more spankings may follow. First, let me state that neither hubby nor I are 24/7 diaper wearers - we enjoy it occasionally but less often than I would like. He also travels quite a bit, so when he's home we have quite a bit of household stuff to do - yardwork, repair on our home, finishing our new office space, etc. I work full-time but don't travel, so my job is to keep the "homefront" going. Sadly, I'm not a great housekeeper. Hubby got home today from a trip. He'd been gone for only a few days, and had finished carrying stuff in from the car when I got home. I had made a trip to the grocery on the way home, and between the shopping and the long drive, I really needed the bathroom when I got home. Hubby greeted me at the door, and I could tell he wasn't pleased. I hadn't done the dishes today, or folded the laundry, or even finished cleaning up the mess from Christmas shopping and wrapping. I tried to get by him with a kiss, but nothing doing. "You HAVEN'T been busy, I see," he said with a grimace. I started to try to explain, but the cold that I've been fighting caught up with me. I started to cough and, unfortunately, lost complete control and peed my pants. I grabbed for my crotch but that had no effect except to focus hubby's attention on the rapidly growing dark spot on my pants. When I came up for air from my coughing spell, my pants were soaked from my crotch to my knees! "Oh, my God!" I groaned. "I can't believe that happened. I did NOT do it on purpose, so don't get any funny ideas! Let me get changed." I tried to get past hubby, but he stopped me. "Hold on. I'm really disappointed in you - you're behaving like a small child. You obviously spent hours online over the past few days, but you didn't get any of your chores done. And now I see that you can't make it to the potty, either." I opened my mouth to protest, but he continued. "This is not the first time that I've noticed this behavior, and it's time to stop it. You need to stand in the corner while I decide what to do." Hubby took my hand and pulled me toward the corner. I hate that corner! I said, "Please, sweetie! I've been fighting a cold, and. . . ." That's as far as I got before we got to the corner. Hubby said, "Stand right there and don't move. Think about what a naughty girl you've been, and what we need to do to help you behave better. I'll think about it, too, and I'll come and get you when I've decided what to do." I stood in the corner for what seemed like hours, but was probably only 15-20 minutes. My pants were going from warm and wet to cold and clammy, and I still had to pee. I kept wondering what my husband was doing - I could hear him rummaging around in the bedroom, the kitchen, the bathroom. I knew that I was in big trouble, but other than a brief spanking, hubby had never really disciplined me before. Finally, he called my name, and asked me to come to the kitchen. I walked slowly to the kitchen, and found my husband standing by the sink. "You need to finish the dishes, honey, then fold the laundry. When those chores are finished, we'll discuss the rest of your punishment." I gaped at him - he was punishing me! I couldn't decide whether to be thrilled that he was finally dealing with my bratty behavior, or scared witless at what was to come. "Umm - OK, honey. Can I please go to the bathroom and change my pants? I really have to go?" I looked as pitiful as I could, and did a little potty dance, hoping that I could wheedle my way out of my increasingly uncomfortable plight. "You can get your pants changed when your chores are done and not before. You should have had this done days ago, so you have only yourself to blame. As to going to the bathroom, that's off limits for you for a while. Now, since you don't seem to get it, I need you to unfasten your pants and lean on the sink." I know I blushed, and I sure panicked. I shook my head no, but it was useless. He stood there waiting patiently, so I undid my jeans and braced my hands on the sink. He pulled my soaking jeans and panties down, and turned to the stove. I cringed - I knew about all the wooden spoons, spatulas, and other implements of destruction waiting. Sure enough, he returned and began to paddle my bottom with a pizza peel - smaller than usual, it looked - and felt - just like a wooden paddle. He stopped after about 30 whacks or so - my bottom was throbbing and it was all that I could do not to moan out loud or grab for my bottom. "Now, pull up your pants, and get busy," he said, and sat down at the kitchen table to watch. I pulled my clammy, wet pants over my throbbing bottom, and started in on the dishes. The warm water did nothing for my need to pee, and I started dancing around in earnest. Finally, I couldn't stand it anymore. "Honey, I really need to go, and I don't want to make a puddle here on the floor. Can't I PLEASE go potty? Please???" My husband sighed and got up. "OK, let's go," and he handed me a towel for my hands. Then he grabbed my hand and led me to the bathroom. I started to unfasten my jeans, but he grabbed both hands and put them on my head. Then he guided me into the shower stall and faced me toward the corner. "Now you won't make a puddle," he said. I knew I was in real trouble. While he waited and watched, I peed in my jeans, squatting a little to completely empty my bladder, and to try to direct the urine stream into the drain rather than down my legs. I had very limited success, and after I finished, I stood there, dripping a little. I didn't know whether to say something or not, but I decided to keep my mouth shut. I was in enough trouble as it was. After a few minutes, he opened the shower door and asked, "are you done peeing, sweetie?" I nodded miserably. "OK, I think you're about done dripping, so you need to get back to work." With that, he led me back to the kitchen. I finished the dishes, and folded 2 loads of laundry, all the while "enjoying" my increasingly uncomfortable wet pants. When I finally finished, my hubby said, "OK, I'm ready for supper! Are you hungry?" I was dumbfounded - hungry? "Um, not really," I mumbled. He led me back to the kitchen and told me that we would be having homemade spaghetti from the freezer. As I started cooking the pasta and sauce from the freezer, he left and went to the bedroom, returning a few minutes later with a Pooh bowl, baby spoon and bottle. Guess for whom? I sighed. I WAS secretly delighted that he was getting into the discipline that I so craved, but this was a bit much. When dinner was nearly ready, he said, "I'll take it from here," and sat me down at the kitchen table facing away from him. He sputtered around in the kitchen, putting something in the microwave and clattering dishes. He brought over his spaghetti, and silverware, and a Coke. I looked at it hungrily - one of my favority meals. I was hungrier than I thought. My bowl, however, was a real disappointment. Instead of spaghetti, I had a large bowl of oatmeal with bananas - both of which I absolutely hate. I looked at him in dismay. "Aw, honey, please not this?" I pleaded. "You are the one who didn't do her work, and who is sitting there in wet pants. You acted like a baby - and babies don't eat spaghetti. They get baby cereal and fruit. Tomorrow when we shop, we'll get some strained veggies and main dishes. Right now, put on your bib and I'll feed you." It was horrible. The cereal was slimy and tasteless, and having squishy bananas in it didn't help. Hubby also fed me using a huge serving spoon, pretty much ensuring that my face was a slimy mess by the end of the meal. I wasn't allowed to feed myself - the only thing that I was allowed to do was help myself to apple juice from a bottle. When the meal was finally over, I had to clean up the dishes, then he took me by the hand and led me to the bedroom. I knew it - there were my diapers and plastic panties, all ready for me. We quickly detoured to the bathroom, where I was allowed to finally remove my wet pants. He got a warm washcloth and cleaned my bottom and legs, and then with a clean cloth, washed my face. I was allowed to brush my own teeth, but the potty was obviously off limits. Back in the bedroom, I expected to be diapered, but instead my husband sat down on the bed and pulled me to his side. He then began to lecture me about my responsibilities when he wasn't home, and how my failures to complete my tasks was childish at the least. Wetting my pants, he said, was just one more thing that let him know that what I needed most was to learn to grow up, be more responsible. "So, to teach you to be a grown-up, I guess we're going to have to take away your grown-up priveleges. So no TV, no internet, no phone until Monday morning. You will do your chores, and you can earn priveleges back. You've also lost your bathroom priveleges, so you'll be in diapers untill you earn back this privelege as well." I groaned. This was way worse than I had thought. I loved to wear diapers, but not as punishment. And to have my TV and internet shut off, too - it was going to be a long weekend. "Honey, I'm so sorry," I began, but he shushed me. "I love you very much, sweetie, but you have to learn," he said sadly. "And I know you have work tomorrow and errands to do Saturday. You'll wear pull-ups tomorrow, but you're just going to have to wear diapers for all of your other errands." I stared at him aghast. He continued, "No, not the bulky cloth ones - you can wear disposibles under your jeans, but you will be in a diaper. You need to learn a lesson - no one else has to learn it, too. As long as you don't flood your pants and leak, your secret should be safe." I was grateful for that at least, and tried a little smile. He smiled back sadly, and said, "Now, it's time to get you ready for bed. It's nearly 8:30 and that's your bedtime this weekend. I think that you need another spanking, so I need you to get over my lap now." I sighed. I knew a bedtime spanking was coming - I had spotted the paddle next to the diapers. I lay facedown across his lap, and he proceeded to spank me, then paddle me with a leather paddle. By the time he finished, my bottom was on fire and I was squirming and wiggling to get away from the stinging blows. I wasn't crying, but had tears in my eyes. It wasn't just the pain of the spanking - I knew I deserved it. It was also that I had disappointed my love, and that he was totally right - I was behaving like a small child, and small children get punished. Spanking done, he rolled me onto the waiting diapers, powdered my bottom and pinned me snugly into them. I noticed that they were very thick - no diaper changes tonight, I guessed. Then the plastic panties. Finally, he removed my shirt and bra, and put me into a onesie, and snapped the crotch. He covered me up, then brought me a bottle. He laid beside me while I drank the warm milk, and told me that he loved me, and that he knew I could do better. As I laid there, nursing on the bottle with a sore bottom and those thick diapers, I felt at once truly loved and horribly ashamed of myself. I fell asleep for a while, but I'm wide awake now, and wet. No diaper change tonight, he says, but he did suggest a little writing exercise. I had a choice of writing lines, or this post. This is more public, and possibly more embarrassing, but at least I don't have to sit in the corner doing those darned lines! -Klingon Bride

I-O (Go Bucks!)