caring mom and bedwetting daughter Fear of Missing Out (Ch. 23 posted 4/30/20)

[Alex Bridges]

8 minutes ago, Angela Bauer said:

Thank you, Alex, for still another fascinating chapter.

Eventually Ryan and Emma were going to find out about both Abby's spankings and bladder control issues. I seriously doubt it is possible to keep it a secret from your siblings that you are getting spankings.The same is also true about bladder control issues. Abby was lucky to have kept her bedwetting a secret from the kids for so long. Apparently Abby suffers from Primary Nocturnal Enuresis which is a fancy way of saying that she never stopped bedwetting. Probably Abby had day control for quite awhile, but even if the kids never saw Abby's diapers and GoodNites, there would come a time they saw pee stained garments. At least those facts are no longer secret.

Now I can hardly wait to read more about Abby, Susan, the Kids, Aunt Lisa, Alison and the unnamed sales clerk!

They knew about the wetting, but not about the diapers. I should’ve made that more clear.

[Sarah Penguin]

Aha! I've figured out what the author does for a living.   You're a teenager who unwisely opted back into spankings not sure how you monetise that job though *nodsnods*

[WBDaddy]

At this point I'd be withdrawing consent.  Over a credit card?  Really?

[Alex Bridges]

It's a marathon, not a sprint.

 

Chapter 8

 

“Hi, Susan,” Lisa said over the phone.

“Hey,” Susan responded.

“Allie just told me something, and I wanted to chat about it.”

“Everything alright?”

“Um ...” This was awkward for Lisa. No one likes it when someone questions their parenting, but as Susan’s sister and Abby’s aunt, and having been asked to weigh in before, she felt like she needed to make this call. “Well, she and Abby talked today. Abby was pretty upset.”

This was news to Susan. Her daughter hadn’t been acting upset, though maybe a little standoffish. “What about?”

“There was an incident in the kitchen, I believe?”

“Oh. Yeah. I had to give Abby a spanking yesterday.” Susan told her side of it.

“Huh,” Lisa responded. She was hesitant. “Do you still want my opinion on this stuff,” she asked her sister.

“Of course. I still feel like I’m making it up as I go.”

“I wouldn’t have spanked for that,” Lisa said, “and I wouldn’t have done it like you did.”

Susan felt her stomach drop. Had she screwed up? And how badly? She thought that was exactly what Lisa would have done.

“What did I do wrong,” she asked. It felt, well, not right in the moment, but so far it had never felt exactly right. It had only been a couple weeks. If Susan had gone with gut, none of this ever would have happened.

“You let your being angry impact your judgment, and you spanked for a accident. You never spank angry and never for an accident.”

“Even if you have to delay a spanking?” Lisa was so big on spankings happening as close to the incident as possible.

“Yes, because it can make you do things you shouldn’t. Never, ever spank when you’re angry. You send them to their room until you’ve calmed down. That’s good for both of you.”

“And you wouldn’t have spanked at all for that?” It seemed like Lisa spanked for almost everything.

“No. She just forgot is all.” Of course she wouldn’t. What did her sister think of her as a parent?

“She missed that stop sign, too. That as an accident.”

“Negligence like that is different. She endangered herself and the kids.” Lisa thought about how to phrase this next part, which she expected to upset her sister. “If you hadn’t been embarrassed at the store, would you have spanked her?”

There was silence on the other end of the phone. 

“You still there,” Lisa asked.

“Ye-yes .... I mean yes, I’m still here. No to, to the other part.” Susan felt horrible. “I screwed up pretty bad, huh?”

“You want me to keep going?”

“Mhmm.”

“And for something delayed, when the kids are home, you should spank in private. You know I believe in spanking on the spot, but there was no misbehavior on the spot to correct. You embarrassed her pretty badly. A spanking is embarrassing, but embarrassment shouldn’t be a goal of the spanking. You wouldn’t embarrass her as punishment, so you shouldn’t make the punishment more embarrassing just for its own sake.” Lisa waited for a reply, and when there was none, she added, “And I think you would’ve have figured this all out yourself if you had let yourself calm down first ... Susie?”

“How did I ... maybe this is just wrong for us. This isn’t me. I’m not that kind of Mom.”

“Of course you’re not. You’re just learning.”

But what a learning curve. “I screwed up so bad ... Abby always comes to me about stuff. Why ...” How had she not noticed her daughter was upset? She always prided herself on knowing how her kids were feeling. It frightened her that maybe Abby felt she couldn’t talk to her about this. They talked about virtually everything.

Lisa waited for her sister to finish her sentence, and when she didn’t, she asked, “You understand now, though? Spanking is for disobedience, breaking established rules, misbehavior, disrespect, and recklessness. It’s not for simple mistakes.”

“Yes.” Susan dabbed at her eyes. It was hard punishing her daughter this way. It didn’t feel natural or intuitive, at least not yet.

“And you always thought I just spanked all the time without any thought,” Lisa asked. No wonder Susan was so opposed to what she thought was Lisa’s approach to discipline.

“How do I fix this?”

“You go apologize, and you make sure it never happens again.”

“What would you have done?”

“Sent her to the store. Maybe made the shopping one of her chores for a few weeks.”

“What if I screw up like this again? Maybe I should just call this off.” Abby had told Allison she was thinking of that, but Lisa chose not to share that. She still thought this could turn Abby’s behavior around. Her niece was responsible when it came to other people. She just needed to be as responsible with herself and learn to control herself better.

“Well, I don’t think that. I think you just need be a little more thoughtful about it. A spanking is and isn’t a big deal when it’s done right, if that makes sense.”

“I thought this ... this is crazy. Who does this?”

“It’s not crazy. It might even make you two closer.” She and Allison certainly had a uniquely close relationship.

“I kinda hoped so.” It sort of seemed to at first, but obviously not if Abby was telling Allison how she felt and not her.

“Well, don’t make decisions while you’re upset.”

“Will you be around later?”

“Sure.”

“Thanks for telling me all this.”

“Of course. I love you both.”

“Love you.”

Susan hung up. felt like a bad mom, and she hadn’t felt like in a very long time. She had physically punished her daughter for something that didn’t rise to the level of a spanking, and she did it more to assuage her own anger than to teach a lesson. She realized that now; she saw the line between the two in a way she hadn’t before. It was exactly the thing she would condemn in another parent. Maybe if this wasn’t all so new and this form of discipline had developed organically in their house she wouldn’t have made that mistake. At least, she hoped she wouldn’t have. She had just intended to be strict. She didn’t intend to be mean or cruel. She thought parenting was supposed to get easier, not harder. But then she knew Abby had never been her easy kid.

Susan went to Abby’s room and knocked gently, hoping she was still awake. Her nervousness made the walk from the living room seem long.

“Come in,” Abby said. Susan tried to hear if there was anything in her daughter’s voice that signaled she was unwelcome. She didn’t hear anything, or at least didn’t think she did.

“You weren’t about to go to sleep, were you?”

“No. Not yet.”

“I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“What did I do,” Abby asked, sounding concerned and a little fed up. Susan picked up on that easily, and it worried her. She didn’t want Abby to think she was in trouble every time she knocked on her door. Had she been making her feel that way?

“Nothing. You didn’t do anything wrong. I ... can I sit?” Abby drew her legs up to make room for her Mom on the bed. “It’s about the credit card incident.”

Oh, that, Abby thought.

“Your Aunt Lisa called.”

When will she butt out, Abby wondered.

“Allie talked to her, and then Aunt Lisa called me.” Susan had a hard time looking at her daughter. She felt ashamed. “I shouldn’t have spanked you for it, and I shouldn’t have done it in the kitchen with the kids home.” Abby hadn’t expected that. “Lisa explained to me why I was wrong. I’m so sorry, Abby.”

Abby was most surprised to hear there was a spanking in the world that Lisa didn’t agree with. Abby reached out and hugged her Mom. She wasn’t sure what to say.

“We all make mistakes,” she ventured. Susan hugged her back.

“It was for the wrong reasons,” Susan said again. “I promise I’ll never do that again.”

“I forgive you,” Abby said. And though she still didn’t feel particularly forgiving, she said it anyway and figured she’d feel it eventually.

“Do you want to keep doing this,” Susan asked.

Abby has been asking herself that for 24 hours. She was still fixated on the original goal: she didn’t want be grounded. She knew she could refuse to be grounded, but she didn’t think she could do that and still live at home, not without there being so much tension it would make her want to leave. There was a kernel of truth to the excuse she’d told Taylor. Sometimes it was easier to go along to get along with her mom.

She had physically recovered from the unjust spanking fairly quickly. It was her feelings that were hurt. Her mom apologizing went a long way toward fixing that.

“Could we ...” Abby paused and rephrased. “Do you think you can be ... more …” She furrowed her brow and searched for the word.  “ … judicious about it?”

“Yeah. I can do that.” She didn’t really want to be; she just wanted to stop altogether, but she wasn’t ready to end it unilaterally. As odd as it seemed, she felt she owed that to her daughter, a kid of courtesy of respecting her original request and her prerogative as a n adult to make it. That put a lot more responsibility on Susan to be smarter about it than she had been. “From now on, I promise to be a lot more careful in what I spank you for and how.”

Well, how’s that for a mixed bag, Abby said to herself.

“Ryan and Emma still know,” Abby said as she sat back. 

“I know, and I’m sorry about that.”

“And I still have no idea why you told them I use diapers now.”

“I ... It just came out. I thought it might be easier if they just knew. That way you don’t have to worry about hiding it as much. Now it won’t be a big deal if they see your nighttime underwear.”

“Or why you said something to Taylor. I mean, really, I don’t get that.”

“I guess I was caught off guard,” Susan said. She wasn’t sure, either. Telling a lie, even to protect her daughter, just didn’t feel right to Susan, so when Taylor has asked, she’d said what she said by instinct. She hadn’t put thought into the answer. The stakes are higher now, Susan said to herself, so I guess you need to start thinking this through more carefully. She’d always thought spanking is what you do when you didn’t think. She still believed that was the case, though perhaps not, as she had feared, the case with her sister.

“Could you just please promise me that you won’t tell anyone else about either of those things?”

“I promise I won’t tell, and I’ll do my best to make sure no one finds out.”

So you’re not ruling out someone finding out, just you not telling them. Hmm. But Abby knew there was a limit to what her mom could control and that she herself had some responsibility for it, too. She thought back on the beauty store. If she had just bit her tongue …

“Baby,” Susan said as she put her hand over her daughter’s, “You really are a good, smart, sweet, wonderful young woman. I want you to know that. Needing a little discipline in your life doesn’t change that. I have the best daughter in the world.”

A lump rose in Abby’s throat. “Thanks, Mom.” She needed to hear that. All the talk about her behavior lately did, on some level, have her questioning herself. It struck her after the fact the other day that at no point during their shopping trip did Taylor question the premise of her being subject to punishment at all, let alone a timeout.

“I mean it,” Susan added.

“I know.”

Susan heard Abby’s underwear crinkle as she shifted. “Everything working out with your new nighttime undies?”

“Still taking some getting used to, but they work fine.”

“Used to how?”

“They’re just thicker. And louder. My other ones didn’t make any noise.”

“I didn’t know that. I was surprised they were made of plastic, though. We stopped using those in the hospital years ago.”

“Well, those, uh, people who you found online, they like that these are sort of, um, old-fashioned, I guess is the word.”

“Oh.” Abby watched the light bulb go off over her mom’s head. “Oh! That makes more sense, in a really weird way ... have they been working better?”

“So far.”

“Good.”

Susan said goodnight, and Abby sat on her bed thinking. She was glad her mom realized she had been wrong. On the other hand, she wondered if she shouldn’t have flat out refused yesterday, and if she had, what that would have led to. Aunt Lisa sticking up for her was a surprise. Maybe she had her figured wrong in this, to a point.

Abby got out of bed and closed her closet door so she could look at herself again in the mirror that hung from it. From front, back, and side, there was no mistaking what she was wearing, not in her pajama shorts. She pulled up the hem of her tee and saw how the the waistband rose so high on her thin frame. She pushed her shorts down and twisted in the mirror, then turned around and looked over her shoulder at her butt.

“You are kinda cute,” she said to herself. She felt the padding and gave herself a smack, getting a dull THWUMP sound in return. It was louder than she expected. “At least that won’t hurt,” she said.

She knew she should go pee one last time before bed, though she didn’t need to go. It was habit, trying one last time before bed and usually getting just drops. She knew she could pull her diaper down and back up and adjust the tapes if necessary.

She opted to just get in bed. No reason to go try for the sake of trying. Maybe that, too, was just another way of accepting that this was just a part of her life. She could stop going through the motions, just like she had stopped restricting fluids in the evenings. The diaper would hold until morning, when she’d be wet regardless.

[Sarah Penguin]

[Angela Bauer]

Hi Alex, what a happy surprise to get a new chapter so early in the day.

I love that Lisa took responsibility for not giving Susan more complete advice. I also love that Susan owned her own blunders. Additionally I love that Abby takes on responsibility.

As it happens I think it just as well that Ryan and Emmy know that since the GoodNites do not have enough absorption Abby decided to wear tape-on diapers. It would have been better had Susan talked all that over with Abby.

Given that as far as we know Abby never stopped wetting her bed it is a real shame she did not join a local older child incontinence support group. Since the modern era of urology started in 1992, most large urology offices, as well as many pediatricians, sponsor such groups. Frankly Abby needs counseling about her unhealthy shame over her bladder issues.

Susan is a nurse. She should know enough about incontinence that she would not buy pink classic adult diapers for Abby without prior discussion. Susan is wrong about the adult disposables at her hospital. All the leading disposable suppliers to nursing homes and hospitals still offer plastic outer layers because they are easier to change by a care giver and they do not snag in bed. A whole lot of incontinent adults are not into ABDL and decorated diapers. Susan should have asked first.

Perhaps Susan needs to think more about discipline for herself. She well could conclude that sooner rather than later she needs to bring the hairbrush she keeps in her purse while she visits Lisa. Then she should confess her own inconsiderate action and beg Lisa for the spankings Susan needs so badly! If Alison is around and hears the spanking that could be a good thing. Imagine if Susan were to overhear Alie telling Abby about Susan's delicate bare derrière being spanked OTK with her own hairbrush!

[Alex Bridges]

19 minutes ago, Angela Bauer said:

Given that as far as we know Abby never stopped wetting her bed it is a real shame she did not join a local older child incontinence support group. Since the modern era of urology started in 1992, most large urology offices, as well as many pediatricians, sponsor such groups. Frankly Abby needs counseling about her unhealthy shame over her bladder issues.

Susan is a nurse. She should know enough about incontinence that she would not buy pink classic adult diapers for Abby without prior discussion. Susan is wrong about the adult disposables at her hospital. All the leading disposable suppliers to nursing homes and hospitals still offer plastic outer layers because they are easier to change by a care giver and they do not snag in bed. A whole lot of incontinent adults are not into ABDL and decorated diapers. Susan should have asked first.

 

It's fun to see your own characters develop. It's not like you fully know who they are when you first type their name. I'm just getting to know Susan, too, and I think her bull-in-the-china shop behavior comes from a place of good intentions and being as unsure about how to relate to her adult daughter as her daughter is to her. For instance, I think she just thought the diapers were cute. She's not trying to embarrass Abby. She just discovered ABDL, clearly doesn't get it, and thought the diapers were fun and cute compared to the boring, clinical kind.

I'm curious what makes you think Abby has shame over her bladder issues. I didn't pick up on that. I'm just getting to know her, too.

[WBDaddy]

2 hours ago, Author_Alex said:

“You let your being angry impact your judgment, and you spanked for a accident. You never spank angry and never for an accident.”

“Even if you have to delay a spanking?” Lisa was so big on spankings happening as close to the incident as possible.

“Yes, because it can make you do things you shouldn’t. Never, ever spank when you’re angry. You send them to their room until you’ve calmed down. That’s good for both of you.”

This hits me in a deep dark place from a long time ago.  

I learned this lesson as a parent because my own mother routinely and savagely beat my ass because she was angry and I did something accidentally.  And I swore never to do that to my own kid.  I only spanked him four times in his life, and all four times it was not only a function of him doing something that put his own or someone else's safety at risk, but for doing it after I'd made it clear to him that was what he was doing.  Most of the time I took the wrong end of a belt/cutting board/whatever happened to be available was because she was angry, not because I'd done something particularly egregious.  All I learned was, "If you're mad at someone, hitting them is the way to deal with it."  And I got into LOTS and LOTS of fights at school, starting in 3rd grade and not ending until I hit high school. 

[Angela Bauer]

1 hour ago, Author_Alex said:

It's fun to see your own characters develop. It's not like you fully know who they are when you first type their name. I'm just getting to know Susan, too, and I think her bull-in-the-china shop behavior comes from a place of good intentions and being as unsure about how to relate to her adult daughter as her daughter is to her. For instance, I think she just thought the diapers were cute. She's not trying to embarrass Abby. She just discovered ABDL, clearly doesn't get it, and thought the diapers were fun and cute compared to the boring, clinical kind.

I'm curious what makes you think Abby has shame over her bladder issues. I didn't pick up on that. I'm just getting to know her, too.

Personally for me the most fun from writing fiction is seeing how my characters develop. It is like meeting many new friends. Some I thought would be friends turned out to be jerks as I developed them.

The fact that Susan is good at her specialized nursing specialty does not mean she is an expert on every aspect of medical care and treatment. Perhaps way back when it became clear that Abby has delayed toilet learning Susan should have researched the topic. Assuming this story is set about 2019, then Abby was born long after the new era in pediatric urology began. Most such physicians offer support groups for parents of youngsters challenged by incontinence. True, for some incontinent folks having fun with diapers is a way to cope. However in my experience it is rare for a younf woman such as Abby to prefer decorated diapers, even for bed at home. At 19 she is unlikely to think of herself as a baby. Now Abby has a large number of the pink diapers. She will learn to deal with them, but might resent her mom for buying them without consultation.

Look, I was raised in a supportive family by a mom who is urinary incontinent. I kept being told and shown that wetting was not my fault and still I felt shame because I knew most people do not wet themselves. Peer support groups did not start until I was nearly 30. Through The Simon Foundation for Continence which did start when I was young (my Granny Vi is a charter member) I became pen-pals with other kids with OAB and needing just-in-case diapers when I was 7. Virtually all of us suffered some shame. My youngest sister who is the most incontinent of our family (Like Abby she never gained night control) has a daughter born in 1990 who is currently about to finish her residency in urology. Despite support from us my niece is still coming to terms with her own shame.

[Ilnincalas]

Just wanted to chime in and say that I really enjoy this story.

Aunt Lisa really grew a couple of sizes for me in this latest chapter. Usually I have a hard time connecting with people who are all "spank spank spank" as you sometimes read in stories, but here she shows that there's actual thought behind it

[Angela Bauer]

Golly Alex, I sure hope you will continue writing about Abby, Susan, Lisa, Alie, Taylor, et al!  You have created a fascinating cast of characters, so it would be heartbreaking to see all this material disappear.

[Alex Bridges]

21 hours ago, Angela Bauer said:

Golly Alex, I sure hope you will continue writing about Abby, Susan, Lisa, Alie, Taylor, et al!  You have created a fascinating cast of characters, so it would be heartbreaking to see all this material disappear.

Maybe Friday night, probably Saturday for the next chapter.

[Angela Bauer]

Alex, I'm tingling with anticipation!

[thedman]

Please tell me the next chapter is coming soon. I keep checking to see if it is here yet

[Sarah Penguin]

10 minutes ago, thedman said:

Please tell me the next chapter is coming soon. I keep checking to see if it is here yet

You must hold a magic feather tight as you make your wish and beleive there is another post here before you check. *nodsnods* *gives you my magic feather*

[Alex Bridges]

26 minutes ago, Sarah Penguin said:

You must hold a magic feather tight as you make your wish and beleive there is another post here before you check. *nodsnods* *gives you my magic feather*

See? Sarah gets it. There’s a process.

[Alex Bridges]

Things calmed down in the house in the immediate period after that. Abby was on her best behavior, and Susan noticed and appreciated it. She didn’t credit that unjust spanking – she knew that had nothing to do with it – and assumed it was just Abby settling back into the routine of life in her childhood home. Especially with the kids out of day camp for the next week, she was busy during the days when her mom worked and tired by the time dinner came around. She went un-spanked for two whole weeks. Well, sort of.

Susan’s floor was slow on a Wednesday, and she got caught called off work early. She walked into the house to the sound of, “Then just close your eyes,” followed by a door being firmly shut.

“Oh, hey Mom,” Abby said as she came into the kitchen. “Get called off?”

“Everything alright,” Susan asked.

Abby shook her head. “Fine. Ryan doesn’t want to take a nap. He was being such a shit at the pool today.” Susan reached over and swatted Abby once on the butt. Abby jumped.

“Language, young lady,” Susan said with a motherly seriousness in her voice.

“Sorry,” Abby said. “It slipped out.” Of course, what she really wanted to say was get with the times already, but she knew better. But Abby didn’t count that as a spanking.

Or on a Saturday while she was making dinner with her mom. “Out,” Abby said to Emma. “Scoot, we’ll call you when it’s ready.” She turned back to the stove and to helping with dinner. Susan craned her neck to make sure Emma wasn’t there.

“C’mere,” Susan said to Abby.

“What?”

“Just c’mere.” Abby sighed in obvious annoyance and turned away from the stove, stepping over to her mom. Susan put her left arm around Abby’s shoulders and with her right hand delivered two smacks to Abby’s butt.

“Ow,” Abby said without pulling away. “What was that for?”

“Your attitude,” Susan said as she stepped back. “What’s wrong with you today?”

“I’m just ... I don’t feel well.”

“Like sick or ...”

“No. Just don’t feel well.”

“Well snap out of it.” Susan gave her daughter a quick kiss. “And don’t take it out on Emma.”

Thus was born a new euphemism in their house: attitude adjustment. Susan took to asking Abby whether she needed an attitude adjustment or her attitude adjusted, and when the warning went unheeded, she’d deliver a few swats to the back of Abby’s shorts. And for the most part it worked to get Abby to slow herself down and take a deep breath. And Abby didn’t consider these spankings. If she did, her two week streak spank-free would’ve been more like two days.

————————-

“Oh no,” Abby said as she woke up. “No no no no. Fuck!” She sat up on the sofa and surveyed her shorts. She hadn’t meant to fall asleep. She just had the house to herself and turned on some bad daytime TV while she texted with Taylor.

Not sure when Mom would be home, Abby prioritized the couch over her shorts and went to the kitchen to get paper towels and some lysol.

She blotted the couch hoping to soak up some of what she’d left. It wasn’t much but was noticeable on their tan couch, and she knew if left there it would start to smell. As she cleaned it as best she could, she sniffled at her misfortune.

Knowing that you can’t really clean a spill up off a couch, she did her best and went to throw away the paper towels and get herself cleaned up. The door from the garage started to open, and Abby retreated back to her bedroom, but not before her mom saw her disappear around the corner.

Respecting her privacy, Susan texted her daughter rather than go to her room. I’m fine; be out in a minute, Abby texted back.

In her bedroom, Abby stripped off her wet clothes and threw herself back on her bed. What just happened hadn’t happened in long time, and even without almost getting caught, she was embarrassed and fairly sure someone would figure it out. Not wanting to deal with the problem, and with her confidence slightly shaken, she decided to put on a Goodnite and a skirt to cover it. She put her wet things in her hamper and decided to do a load of laundry in the morning. She paused before leaving her room, running her hands over her butt. The bathroom is ten steps away, she thought, so why does this make you feel better? Because now you can just relax, she told herself, knowing that didn’t make much sense.

Susan was listening attentively for Abby’s door to open. She heard her come out and waited for her. “Hi,” Abby said as she came into the kitchen and washed her hands in the sink.

“What happened,” Susan asked.

“I fell asleep on the couch,” Abby admitted, trying not to sound upset. Had she fallen asleep on the couch in a Goodnite or diaper and wet, it wouldn’t have phased her, but something about peeing on the couch was worse, even if the loss of control was the same. Like on top of being unable to control her bladder while sleeping, she was unable to responsibly take care of the problem. Even if she’d done it on her bed, that would’ve been better.

“Oh ... did you clean up after yourself?”

“Of course, Mom,” Abby said as she dried her hands and rolled her eyes.

“C’mere,” Susan said. Abby sighed and tossed the towel down sharply on the counter.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap,” Abby said as she turned around to face her mom. Expecting a swat, instead Susan put both hands on her daughter’s shoulders and kissed her on the forehead. 

“I’m sorry that happened,” she said as she pulled Abby into a hug.

Abby sniffed again and then returned the hug. “Not a big deal, Okay?”

“Okay,” Abby said as she reached up to wipe her eye. She always felt lucky to have a mom who was sympathetic. She knew Susan could never understand, but she had never been anything other than kind about her problem. Sometimes she made false steps, like the case of pretty pink diapers she’d bought, but it was always from a place of love. 

Her mom vigorously rubbed her back and stopped suddenly. She drew back from the hug and slid her hands down Abby’s arms so she was holding her hands. Abby pulled away and broke eye contact. “Honey, is there something you want to tell me?”

So she’d felt the waistband of the Goodnite. Fuck this fucking day, Abby said to herself. “Not really,” Abby said flatly. That she didn’t say no or leave the room Susan took as a sign Abby would talk about it if asked.

“Were you, honey ... sit,” she said as she gently tugged Abby toward a kitchen chair. “Were you really asleep,” she asked. “You can tell me anything,” she reminded her daughter. Abby sat down.

“Yes,” she said as she looked at the space between her mom and the wall. “I really was asleep.”

“Then, why are you wearing that?”

“Because it’s just easier, okay,” Abby said impatiently. “It’s just, it just is.”

“Please don’t be like that,” Susan said, “I’m just asking. Are you ... do you want to see Dr. Moreland?”

The very last thing she wanted. “No.” Abby looked at her hands, not seeing the look of mental struggle on her mom’s face as she thought about her next question.

“Can I ask, when you say ‘easier,’ what do you mean?”

“I just get tired of always thinking about is all. It’s always just there. When I wear these it’s just, I don’t know ... less mental energy. Not a big deal if I fall asleep on the couch,” she said ruefully.

“How often are you wearing those? While you’re awake,” she added.

“Not often. More like, if I go to a party or a concert or out with friends. Just means I don’t have to think about how far I am from the bathroom.”

“I see.”

“No, you don’t.” Where did that come from?Abby didn’t mean to sound harsh and wasn’t sure why she had snapped again.

Startled, Susan tried to say, “I just meant ...”

“What?”

“Abigail. Do you need your attitude adjusted?” Abby sat further down into her chair, embarrassed by her unnecessary outburst. “I just meant I understand why you would do that.”

“Sorry.” She felt like she was on defense now. “I’m just a little ... sometimes it bothers me more than others.” Like today, when I just finished peeing on our couch.

“So when you say you don’t have to worry about where a bathroom is, are you, um ...” Susan didn’t know the polite way to ask if her daughter was wetting her pants on purpose. She tried again, “Are they for just in case?”

“Yes.” More mental than physical security.

“And how often, do they, uh, prove useful?”

“Maybe once every three times I wear them? I don’t know. Maybe less.”

Susan sat and considered that. “Are you sure you don’t want to see Dr. Moreland?”

“Mom, seriously, fuck that guy.”

“I know you’re having a hard day, Abigail, but that doesn’t mean I won’t take you to your room right now if one more swear word comes out of your mouth, young lady.”

Abby looked down at her hands again. 

“Sorry.” She just really hated the urologist she’d seen in the past, always pushing meds and alarms, like they hadn’t tried those already or that the side effects didn’t make her feel worse. He had just always assumed anything would be better than pull-ups, but what did he know? It wasn’t his body, even if he did act like he had some special provenance over it. Abby wondered if he was like that with all his patients or just the female ones.

“Are you still tired?” Or just upset, Susan knew. “Why don’t you go lay down? I’ll bring you a snack in a bit.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Abby said as she stood up.

Susan didn’t like seeing her daughter upset, not one bit. Abby’s bladder problems never bothered her except that they bothered Abby, and Susan’s years’ long frustration was her inability to do anything about it. More as a mom than a nurse, she just wanted to fix it and couldn’t. So instead she fixed a small bowl of nuts and chocolate chips and a glass of cranberry juice, always on hand in their house, and took them to Abby’s room.

“Knock knock,” she said as she bumped the door open with her hip. Abby was on her bed with her knees drawn up. She set the bowl and glass down on the nightstand. “Who you talking to,” she casually asked as Abby tapped away at her tablet.

“Thanks, Mom,” she said as she noted the snack her mom had fixed her. “Talking to Shelby.” She reached over and took a couple pieces from the bowl. “She’s trying to guilt me into going with her to this thing. She can be such a bitch sometimes,” she said absentmindedly.

Susan winced and sighed. Her inclination to let it go ran into the fact that she’d just warned Abby, plus Abby knew the swearing rule, and her sister had made it clear breaking established rules was a spankable offense. And what kind of message did it send to not follow through on a punishment just because Abby was having a rough day? 

“Abby, do you even hear yourself saying those words,” Susan asked, the exasperation in her voice clear.

“What words,” Abby asked, not realizing she’d done it again. That bothered Susan more than the word itself, evidence of Abigail’s larger problem of not thinking before she spoke.

“You just called your friend the B word.”

“Oh. Sorry.” Abby hoped that was the end of it.

“Stand up.”

“Seriously? Mom, it’s just a word.”

“Are you going to stand up?” Abby knew all she could do was stand up or dig herself a deeper hole. She swung her legs over the bed as stood up, and Susan sat down in her place. “Over.”

Abby rolled her eyes again and put herself over her mother’s left knee. That’s when she remembered what she was wearing, and then why. She still had the taste of chocolate in her mouth. Why couldn’t you just pay attention to what you said? As stupid as the rule was, all she had to do was follow it, so she had mixed emotions about how in less than a minute she’d gone from thanking her mom for bringing her a snack to about to be getting a spanking. She didn’t think swearing deserved a spanking, but she was frustrated with herself for letting her mouth run again and, a bigger deal, for having been ungrateful for her mom’s gentle understanding since she’d emerged from her room. Mostly, though, she didn’t protest more because she was in crappy mood and couldn’t be bothered. It wasn’t like her mom had left and gotten the hairbrush.

Susan lifted her daughter’s skirt back to see Ella from Frozen smiling up at her. Ignoring her, she planted three swats on Abby’s butt. “No. More. Bad words.” She left  her hand there. “Next time there will be much more,” she warned.

Abby lay there, feeling childish not just because she was over her mom’s knee but because she had snapped at her mom repeatedly for no good reason and then had managed to again put her foot in her mouth. And even then, she knew, her mom was being sweet to her, bringing her a snack and just giving her a light, even gentle few swats. She really did need her attitude adjusted.

“You can sit up,” Susan said as she helped Abby up. She did and avoided looking at her mother for the fifth or sixth time that afternoon.

“Is that, um, all,” Abby asked in surprise. Every time she’d been out over her mom’s lap she’d gotten a real spanking, not a little patty cake session.

“Do you want more?”

“No!”

“Because if you need more ...” Susan felt ridiculous saying that, but it seemed appropriate.

“No! I just, I’m sorry,” she said and meant it this time. “I know how much you hate that.” And even though she considered it a ridiculous and outdated obsession, she knew she ought to respect it, at least around her mom.

Susan shook her head gently and smiled at her daughter, not sure she’d ever learn that lesson. She hugged her again and kissed her on the cheek. “I know you mean it. Please don’t forget again.”

Abby sighed.

“Do you need anything else,” Susan asked.

“No,” Abby shook her head and smiled. Just a little adjustment, and she’s being all sweet again. She really is the best mom.

“There’s nothing I can do to make you feel better?”

“I feel okay, really. I just wanna chill for a bit.” She smiled again, and it didn’t feel forced.

“K.” Susan got up and walked toward the door then turned. “If you’re not going out with Shelby tonight, why don’t the four of us go out somewhere? Dinner, and ice cream after.”

Abby was laying back into the position her mom had found her in. “That sounds fun.”

Abby finished her conversation with Shelby. She felt uneasy. It hit her: I actually do feel better. 

She was sure, though, it was because her mom was being so nice to her and not because those swats had helped her to stop being snippy for no good reason. Right?

So she avoided another spanking, at least the way she preferred to think about it, but suspected that couldn’t last the whole summer.

[Guilend]

I hope she didn't get as excited as I did when her mother spanked her in her pull ups. 

Or did it? Okay, I'm sure it didn't, but I'll still imagine her pull ups wet in another way.

I'm really enjoying this story.

[Angela Bauer]

Another million Thanks for still another outstanding chapter of Abby and Susan, adding the new to us character of Shelby.

Taylor, Shelby, plus that young clerk at Dunham's Beauty Supply have huge potential to add spice to Abby's summer, and perhaps some heat to her seat.

[Sarah Penguin]

[Jayme]

Usually I'm not a fan of corporal punishment stories, however this wonderful tale has taken a smoother and less harsh view to said punishments. Yes her mother went a little overboard but she is making up for her transgression and starting to relax a bit. I eagerly anticipate your next chapter, and thank you for taking the time to post the chapters to this beautiful story for us to read.

[Jennynappy]

I love this story! Reflects my life with my father.

[Alex Bridges]

Chapter 10

 

My two-week streak came to abrupt end, and it was Taylor’s fault. To be clear, I’m a good student. I always have been, and I always got good grades. I worked my butt off in high school, partly because of Mom riding me, but because that’s just who I am. If anything, I think I deserve extra credit for having worked so hard and still having found time to get in trouble. I think that was a bit of the problem, actually, that I worked so hard and then suddenly had this freedom to, well, not. 

I was in my bedroom getting ready to go out with Taylor, and so I missed the exchange. “Did you get your grades yet,” Mom probably asked Taylor.

“Sure did,” said the almost always cheerful Taylor. “All above a B+. But don’t worry about Abby. She’s got time to turn things around.” Or something like that.

Mom never punished me for a bad grade growing up. She forced me to study extra sometimes, got me a tutor at others, took me to the eye doctor once a year to make sure my prescription was up to date. The only time I ever got in trouble over grades was when I told her I studied and hadn’t, and that was rare, like maybe twice in all of high school. And I had the wherewithal to know those punishments weren’t over grades but lies.

So why did I lie to Mom about my grades? Because I was embarrassed. I’d never gotten a C before, and while a C may technically be average, it wasn’t in our house. It was decidedly below average and below expectations, and the reason I had gotten two of them, out of five classes, is because I found the material boring and didn’t go to every class. I skipped about once a week. 

I just assumed the knock at my door was Taylor, and since I was decent I opened the door to find Mom making a face I was growing to recognize as her “steely resolve” face, met by a tingling sensation in my tummy I was coming to recognize as my “you’re about to get it” feeling.

“Um, hi, Mom. Is, uh, Taylor ...”

“I told her I needed a minute with you.” And remember, at this point I didn’t know what was going on.

“Um, sure. What, uh ... ?” My lone A That semester was in English, which you’d never know by how articulate I’m not when I’m in trouble.

“You told me you got two Bs, two B+s, and an A this semester.” She paused, I guess waiting for me to fess up on my own. Well, she could just wait because nope. “You told Taylor something different, I think. So which one of us were you telling the truth?”

Well, who lies to say they got bad grades?

“I ... I was embarrassed, okay? Bad grades aren’t like me, you know that. I was just ... ashamed.” And that was the truth.

Mom’s face softened, so I knew she believed me. “So what did you really get?”

“Two Cs, two Bs, and an A.”

“How did that happen?”

At a crossroads. Lie and say I didn’t understand the material, or tell the truth and admit I didn’t know the material because I hadn’t been in the classroom half the time. Now, I didn’t know what else Taylor told Mom, so another lie could really just dig the hole deeper. I told the truth. The truth will not set you free, just FYI. Whoever said it would was either naive or a liar, which is pretty ironic.

“Well, we’re gonna talk about that later, but right now we’re gonna deal with lying. Do you want to tell Taylor to go home?”

“What,” I asked incredulously. “You can’t be serious!” Spank me with a friend in the house? Allison would’ve been bad enough, but Taylor?!?

Mom shrugged apologetically, but it was a clear sorry-not-sorry. She really took the right away part of Aunt Lisa’s precepts to heart, and I guess she thought it wouldn’t add undue embarrassment so long as Taylor left. “If you still want to go out with her, that’s fine, but I want to take care of this now. This is a big deal.”

“You’ve never punished me for bad grades,” I argued in bad faith. I knew that wasn’t what was happening.

“I’m going to punish you fo lying to me.”

“But ...” I racked my brain for a plausible way out. “They’re my grades, and I’m in college.” Notice how I didn’t even bother to call myself an adult. “I shouldn’t ... that’s private, if I don’t want to tell the truth about them.”

“I’m paying a third of your tuition,” Mom reminded me, “and we talked about your grades and not slacking off before you even started college last year. Remember what you said?”

“That I’d work just as hard as I did in high school,” I grumbled.

“You need to keep a 3.5 to keep your scholarship.”

“I know.”

“So where are you at right now?”

“3.58.” Good thing I had a good first semester. See, it wasn’t that I didn’t care about my grades. I just thought I was smart enough to be able to get through some of those gen ed courses without much work. I mean, the first semester was fall-off-a-log easy. “Is Taylor...” 

“I told her the kids were anxious to see her. She’s in the basement with them.”

“Do you have to,” I swallowed, “spank me?” Worst she could say is yes, right?

“No. I could ground you instead. Two weeks.” Twenty percent of the summer, is what two weeks meant. “Your choice.”

“I don’t want that,” I whispered. “Does it have to be right now?”

“She can’t hear from the basement, but I’ll give you a choice.” Aunt Lisa had told her to do that. “A little spanking now and the rest when you get home, or you can get it over with now.”

Spending the rest of the day thinking about getting my butt spanked was hardly going to make for a fun outing. And Taylor may find out anyway. What a crappy set of choices.

“What if Taylor comes back upstairs?”

“Or I can just send her home,” Mom repeated. “Or have you meet her. Just tell her you’ll be a half hour late.”

So I went and did that. To my surprise, Taylor didn’t ask for an explanation. She just had this funny look on her face like she understood and didn’t understand at the same time. 

When I got upstairs, Mom was still in my bedroom, but this time with her hairbrush. At least, I call it hers. Since she started keeping it on top of my dresser, she refers to it as mine, but nope. Hers. Just from a technical standpoint, right? Because she uses it. I just get it used on me. I don’t have a spanking hairbrush, just like none of those attitude adjustments I’d gotten over the previous two weeks counted as spankings, right?

Mom was already seated on my bed. I gently and slowly shut the door. Not that sound doesn’t carry through it just fine. Especially the sound of wood on butt. I resolved to be mature about it, walked across my room, and started to lower myself over Mom’s knee.

“Not yet,” Mom said.

Okay, so I resolved to try to get away with not baring my butt. Ya can’t blame a girl for trying.

“Up,” Mom said, and her hands were on the waistband of my shorts as soon as my feet were flat on the floor. Mom popped the button and paused. “Anything you want to say?”

“I’m wearing a Goodnite.”

“I know that sweetie.” Her hands were in the waistband of my shorts, so duh. “I meant anything about why you’re going to get your naughty bare bottom spanked.” As much as I appreciated Aunt Lisa explaining to Mom the error of her ways, she pretty much undid any goodwill that bought her by having taught Mom to use phrases like that. I never have figured out if Aunt Lisa uses those phrases deliberately to embarrass or if it’s just part of her spanking jargon, like butts transform into naughty bottoms and tushies and cabooses when they’re about to be spanked. Mom took my shorts down, leaving me in that pull-up.

“I’m sorry I lied. I shouldn’t have. I was just,” I sighed and felt a tear on my cheek. “Ashamed.” I still was. We don’t get Cs in our house. Mom rubbed my thigh.

“I understand,” she said gently, “but that’s no excuse for lying. Do you understand that?”

I nodded. 

“Lying is a big deal.” 

I nodded again as I started to cry. I felt dumb all over again and guilty on top of it. Mom slid the pull-up down toward my ankles and guided me across her knees.

“You want Lemon,” she asked me. She reached for my teddy bear and slid her toward me. I wrapped my arms around her and put my face in her. Nothing happened for a second.

The first smack was skin on skin. I didn’t react much as Mom built a slow burning fire on my rear. I just lay there letting it happen and thinking about my stupid grades. Maybe I make them too much a part of who I am, but being smart and being a good student are a big part of who I am. That hadn’t been a problem until I took Conservation 101. I mean, I only took it for the science credit. It was boring as hell, and I’m still not even sure what the class was about.

Mom paused, and I braced myself for the brush. I almost welcomed it, knowing that as soon as it bounced off my butt I’d be thinking about that and only that and not whatever the fuck Conservation 101 was about. Something about trees?

My stoicism ends at the fifth smack with a spoon but the first smack of a hairbrush. I grunted and oomphed and ahhed and the tears from my lecture turned into sobs from my spanking. Mom was  ring pretty deliberate. She’d always, I guess like all parents, made a big to do about lying. The few times I did it I could always justify it to myself, but when I started babysitting, especially for Ryan and Emma, I understood right away how almost infuriating a lie from a kid is. I’m not sure why. Something about it it just different from when an adult does it.

Anyway, Lemon was clutched in my left fist and getting quite the ride as I struggled to stay in position, arching my back and almost crawling across my covers. My eyes were clenched shut, and I was trying to keep the sound escaping my mouth to a low moan.

Then it was over, and I let myself fall back on to the bed and sobbed while Mom rubbed my butt for me. Her fingers felt light but hard on the aching numbness of my butt. Mom shushed me as I got myself under control.

I turned my head to the side and said, “I’m sorry, Mom.” I didn’t try to get up. I was fine the way I was.

Mom ran her fingers through my hair. “I know, baby. Are you ready to sit up?”

Mom caught me in a hug as I did. She felt good. She felt like a mom, and moms give the best hugs. Doesn’t even have to be yours.

“No more lying,” she said as we sat with our arms around each other. “Next time you lie, you’ll get forty spanks.”

Wait, what? That wasn’t like, two hundred? It was less than forty? Like, 39-and-a-quarter maybe? Okay, so I’m the biggest wimp when it comes to the hairbrush. I guess I can live with that.

“I promise. I won’t lie to you again.” Minor caveat.

Mom patted my back, and I stood up, my hands going to my butt. Hot, sore, and maybe just a little swollen. Just a little. Mom had been slower with the brush than with her hand, but she made up for it with the harder swing. Not so hard I’d have bruises, though.

“Let me see,” Mom said. I turned around, and she moved my hands. “That is one naughty red bottom,” she said as she have it a light smack. I was sufficiently recovered to want to say enough with the bottom talk but sufficiently well spanked to know better than to smart off at that particular moment. Call that progress, I suppose. 

Mom pulled my Goodnite back up for me, and that’s when I felt coolness inside my thighs. I’d dribbled. It was kind of odd, that for the first time I wasn’t humiliated to be spanked over my mom’s knee. I was embarrassed, but not as bad as any of the times before. Maybe I was getting used to it. Maybe I felt I deserved it, though I don’t think anybody deserves to be hit. Maybe they deserve to be punished, and I guess I thought I did, more so because of the grades than the lie. I took the lie seriously, which I suppose is just evidence of how seriously I took the grades, if only I’d taken them more seriously sooner. I actually felt better about the grades, standing there with my aching bottom, like those feelings had been purged, all cried out.

But I dribbled while getting spanked. Just a tiny bit. That felt humiliating. I’d never done that, obviously. I mean, I rarely dribble at all. Maybe with a real wracking cough or trying to lift too much at the gym, sometimes.

It put an end to my feeling affectionate in that moment. I felt embarrassed and defensive and kinda gross. I pulled my own shorts up, wondering if Mom had noticed. If she did, she didn’t say anything.

She sent me to wash my face, and looking in the mirror, you could still tell I’d been crying so I washed my face again. My eyes were still puffy. I also took a moment to wipe off my thighs, but my pull-up had already done that when Mom pulled it back up.

Mom was still in my room. I felt more awkward right then than when I was standing naked in front of her or was naked over her knee. “Can I go now,” I asked. She’d have been justified in asking me if I already needed my attitude adjusted, the way I’d said it.

The way Mom looked at me, I don’t know, I think she was trying to think of what to say, which I took to mean she had noticed I had lost a few drops. “Have fun and be safe,” she said. “We’ll talk more when you get home.”

I texted Taylor to tell her I was on my way.

[Guilend]

Oh no. She's slowly losing control. I know, one day while in the corner with her pants down and her pull up on show she gets an attitude about it and decides to poop her pull ups just to get back at her mom. Of course it's not till after she does it that she realizes that she once again let her emotions get the best of her and that all she did was make things worse and now it's to late to do anything about it. Or I guess she could just wet her pull up out of laziness and I'm sure that'd go over great with her mom.

Love the new chapter 

[Angela Bauer]

Certainly Aunt Lisa knows all about Abby's bladder control problems. I'm surprised that Lisa had not advised Susan to protect her lap with at least a towel or better yet a waterproof underpad.

Perhaps while Abby is out with Taylor Susan will take the kids shopping at a baby store for underpads.

As always, Alex, Chapter 10 is excellent entertainment!

What a treat to have two fresh chapters this weekend.