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David's holiday humiliation - part 2 (illustrated)
I spent the whole of the next day moping around the house. While Mummy and Becky chatted excitedly about going on holiday, all I could think about was the humiliation of being put into a nappy and those hateful pink baby pants for the journey.

I tried to think of something, anything, which would get me out of such a fate. After lunch I pleaded with Mummy to reconsider. I told her I was SURE I could manage to last five hours without needing a wee. She stopped and looked exasperatedly at me. And then I thought, finally, I’d scored a win.

“Oh very well then, David. Let’s see if you can. It’s one o'clock now. If you can last until six o'clock without going to the toilet then we’ll see about you needing to have a nappy on tomorrow. How does that sound?”

I was ecstatic! All I had to do was not go to the toilet for five hours, and I’d be reprieved!

If I’d thought about it more carefully I would have gone and had a wee before I spoke to Mummy. Within a few minutes all I could think about was the glass of orange squash I’d had with my lunch, and the top up I’d insisted on having straight afterwards.

I lasted an hour, sitting in my bedroom with my legs tightly crossed. But I knew I wouldn’t last another four hours. I couldn’t wet my pants - that would just give Mummy the perfect excuse to put a nappy on me there and then. But I couldn’t admit I needed to go, because that would mean a nappy tomorrow for sure.

Suddenly I had a brilliant idea. I waited until I was sure Mummy was downstairs, and then I went into the bathroom. But instead of using the toilet, I started to wee into the bath. That way I wouldn’t need to flush, and Mummy would never know!

But of course Mummies do know, don’t they? I don’t know how she knew, but half way through she appeared behind me. “What on earth do you think you're doing, David? You dirty little boy! Stop that at once!”

I couldn’t stop, but as soon as I’d finished, before I could even zip myself back up, she’d grabbed my arm and dragged me into her bedroom. 

She pulled down my shorts and underpants, then took me over to her bed and bent me over the end of it.

“I’m going to spank your bottom for you, David, for being so naughty – not only weeing in the bath, but trying to trick me that you can go for five hours without needing the toilet. Well, my lad, it’s very clear that you most certainly can’t last for even an hour. So you're definitely going to need a nappy on for our journey tomorrow. Once I've given you your spanking I’ll decide whether you need a nappy on now, as you don’t seem to be able to even use a toilet properly!”

With that she stormed out of the room, leaving me prone, with my bare bottom exposed, and wondering what was going to happen to me. I did not have to wait long.

She came back in holding Becky’s wooden hairbrush. That meant that not only was I going to be spanked with it, but Becky would now know that I was receiving a spanking as well. Even before my spanking started, I began to cry. By the sixth stroke I was sobbing. And by the time Mummy had given me all twelve spanks I was bawling my eyes out, and my bottom felt like it was on fire.

She made me stand in the corner with my hands on my head, and my bare bottom still on show, for half an hour. And then she came back in.

“Honestly, David,” she said. “I don’t know what's come over you. All this fuss about a little thing like having to wear a nappy for a car journey tomorrow! Well I've had enough of your nonsense. You're going to wear a nappy tomorrow, and as a punishment for your disgusting behaviour today I’m going to put you into a nappy for the rest of today as well. So take your hands off your head and come over here and lie on my bed. And be quick about it, unless you want another spanking!”

I desperately didn’t want to have another nappy put on me, but I certainly didn’t want another spanking. My bottom still felt like it was on fire.

I meekly climbed onto her bed and laid down. She gently but forcibly pushed my legs apart sufficiently for her to get the nappy between them, and then she motioned for me to lift my bottom up for her to slide it underneath me. She then left me laying there on my nappy while she disappeared into the bathroom, returning a minute later with some baby powder.

“Here,” she said, sprinkling it liberally over my little boy bits and, after raising my legs high in the air, on my bottom too, “this will make you more comfy in your nappy.”

She then lowered my bottom and drew my nappy tightly between my legs, pressing down the front as she taped it tightly around me. When she was happy it was on properly she turned me over onto my tummy and put her finger inside the leg holes of my nappy and made sure they were properly in place too. “We don’t want any leaks, do we David?” she chided.

Next came those awful pink plastic pants, which she threaded over my feet and drew up over my legs and into place over my nappy. Once again she adjusted the leg holes and the waistband, releasing it with a snap on my tummy, which made me jump.

“Your sister knows you’ve had a spanking and that you’ve gone back into your nappy and baby knickers,” she said, “so it’s up to you whether you bother putting your shorts back on. You might find it more comfortable in just your nappy, baby knickers and t-shirt.”

With that she left me, lying on her bed, like a little toddler, my legs forced slightly apart by my nappy, and the plastic pants, or ‘baby knickers’ as I’d noticed Mummy had humiliatingly called them, biting into my thighs.

I couldn’t stand the thought of Becky seeing me dressed like that, so I did slip my shorts on. As Mummy had suggested, they were a bit tight over my nappy, but I managed to do them up, and then walked rather uncomfortably downstairs.

I was put to bed early, with no supper, as further punishment. Mummy came upstairs and undressed me. Instead of my pyjamas I had to sleep in just my nappy and pink baby knickers. Mummy patted my padded bottom and kissed the top of my head before pulling the blanket up over me. “Goodnight, sweetie,” she smiled. “Try to get some sleep and you’ll be nice and fresh for our journey tomorrow. Don’t worry if you need to use your nappy during the night. Mummy won’t be cross with you.”

I had a horrible vision as I drifted off towards sleep that I’d turned into Mummy's little baby again, a ten-year-old boy in the body of a baby. I slept fitfully, and was horrified to find in the morning that I had indeed wet my nappy.
I just read both of the parts to your story. In this story you made me feel a lot of familiar feelings, the shame and comfort of being diapered and more. Good job! Smile
That’s a lovely thing to say, Grendale. Thank you. x

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