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Charlie's story
#1
Part 1

Hello. My name is Charlie, and this is the story of the most humiliating day of my whole life.
 
I knew we were going out today, but I was at a crucial point in my game, and I just had to play until this stage was done. Mummy had insisted I go down for breakfast, where I’d wolfed down my cornflakes and glass of orange juice, and then I’d gone straight back to my bedroom to carry on.
 
“Charlie!” she cried. “We’re leaving in five minutes!”
 
I grunted a reply and carried on my game, engrossed in capturing the enemy camp.
 
“Charlie!” Mummy shouted again. “Make sure you’re down here in two minutes. The traffic will be terrible today and I don’t want to get stuck in traffic jams when we take your sister to her party. And make sure you brush your teeth - and go to the toilet before you come down. I don’t want to stop on the way.”
 
I grunted another reply, but I wasn’t really interested. Abigail was going to her friend Daisy’s birthday party today, and then staying there for a week. I didn’t see why I had to go along for the ride. Luckily I wasn’t invited to the party – there’s nothing worse than a load of eight year old girls when they get together – but I would have much preferred to stay at home playing my game.
 
When Mummy shouted again I knew I really needed to get going. I finished my attack and then switched off. I felt a twinge and wondered whether to pop into the toilet on my way downstairs, but Mummy shouted yet again and I ran down as quickly as I could.
 
She loaded Abigail’s bag into the back of the SUV and off we went.
 
When we got to the main road I saw what Mummy meant about the traffic. It was terrible. We nudged our way into the queue and then crawled along. It should have taken us an hour to get to Daisy’s house, but an hour after setting off we were still miles away.
 
And it was then that I started to regret not going for a wee before we left. I could feel the pressure building up. I crossed my legs. I pressed myself. I crossed my legs again. I couldn’t ask Mummy to stop, because then she’d know that I hadn’t done what I’d been told and gone before we left, and I didn’t want her to get cross with me.
 
But then I got so desperate that in the end I just had to ask her. “Mummy,” I said, “can we stop in a minute? I need a wee.”
 
“Oh goodness me, Charlie,” she snapped. “You went just before we left the house, and now you need to go again! What on earth is the matter with you? You did go before we left, like I told you, didn’t you?”
 
She could tell from the look on my face that I hadn’t, and she was clearly very cross. “This is exactly why I told you to go, you silly boy. Now you’re going to make your sister late for her party all because of your silliness. Well you’ll have to hold on until we get to a layby.”
 
I tried so hard to hold on, not daring to mutter another word for fear of upsetting Mummy more. But it was no good. I felt a little spurt of wee, and, try as I might, once it started there was no holding it back. “Mummy!” I exclaimed, as sat there and wet myself. Mummy glanced down and saw the wet patch spread across the front of my shorts. “Oh for goodness sake, Charlie!” she screamed.
 
Just then we came to a layby and she pulled in, stamping on the brake to come to an abrupt stop. She got out and ran round to my side of the car, opening the door and hauling me out. I stood there thoroughly ashamed of myself, with the big dark wet patch across the front of my shorts abundantly obvious. The traffic was still slow, and I could see people looking at me, no doubt wondering why a ten-year-old boy had wet his pants.
 
Mummy was furious with me. “You’ll have to take those off,” she barked, “you can’t sit there in wet shorts and underpants. Here, let me.” She undid the button of my shorts and took them down, and groaned at me again when she saw how wet my underpants were. She unceremoniously tugged those down too, leaving me naked from the waist down.
 
She stuffed my wet things into a spare carrier bag and got the wet-wipes she always kept in the car to clean me up. I tried to cover myself up, but she slapped my hands away, and I had to stand there in full view of the slowly passing cars. At one point I saw two girls about my own age in the back of a car. They pointed and laughed as they went past, and I felt utterly ashamed.
 
Then things got worse. “I told you to go to the toilet before we left, Charlie, and you not only disobeyed me, but you wet your pants as well. So this is for disobeying me…” She grabbed my arm with one hand, and turned me round. Then with her other hand she gave six hard smacks on my bare bottom. It was bad enough those girls seeing me half naked. Now the people in passing cars got a good view of me receiving a bare-bottom spanking.
 
“And this is for wetting your pants…” she continued, giving my now very tender bottom six more hard smacks. I could feel my bottom burning bright red, and tears ran down my face – not only from the pain of my spanking, but from the humiliation of it all too. I looked at Abigail, still sat in the car. The smirk on her face revealing how much she was enjoying her big brother’s plight.
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#2
Part 2

I didn’t think things could get any worse than receiving a bare-bottom spanking on the side of a road of slow-moving traffic, but they did.

“Now we have the problem of what you’re going to wear, Charlie. We can hardly turn up at Daisy’s house with you half-naked, can we?” I meekly shook my head. “Well, the only dry clothes we have are the things Abigail has packed in her bag for her week away. What a good job I packed some extras, isn’t it?”

I wasn’t sure I was hearing right. Mummy wasn’t seriously suggesting that I should wear some of my little sister’s clothes, was she? She went to the back of the car and opened it up, then undid Abigail’s bag. “Do you mind which pair of your knickers your brother borrows, darling?” she asked my now grinning sister. “No Mummy”, she replied sweetly.

“That’s very kind of you sweetie,” replied Mummy. “Charlie, come here and choose yourself a pair of knickers to wear.” I hesitated, dreading the thought of being made to wear knickers. “Come here this minute young man, or I shall give you another spanking.” Mummy was clearly serious, so I edged closer to her, and looked at the choice of knickers.

They were all awful. Pink and yellow and white and blue, and all with girly pictures on them and lacy frills round the legs and waistband. “How about these?” asked Mummy, holding up a pale blue pair, with a picture of a Disney Princess on them and white frills everywhere. “At least they’re blue, like some of your own underpants.”

They may have been blue, but they were nothing at all like my own underpants. Mummy held them out for me, and I reluctantly stepped into them, letting Mummy pull them up my legs and into place. It was utterly humiliating being put into knickers like this. The only good thing was that at least they covered up my fiery red bottom from the amused glances of the passing traffic.

“Now, what to wear over your knickers, Charlie…” I didn’t at all like her referring to the knickers as mine, but I didn’t feel I was in any position to protest. I’d already had one sound spanking, and I really didn’t fancy another.

“Let’s see, what trousers have we packed?” I felt a great sense of relief realising that I would soon have trousers on to cover up the knickers, and I was delighted when Mummy found a pair of jeans. But my relief was short lived. I stepped into the jeans, but they were too small for me. There was no way they were going to fit. It was a similar story with Abigail’s shorts.

“There’s nothing for it,” declared Mummy. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to wear one of Abigail’s dresses. Let’s see if we can find one to fit you.”

This was too much for me. It was bad enough wearing knickers, but a dress as well! I stamped my foot in a fit of pique and said in no uncertain terms that there was no way I was going to wear a dress.

I didn’t even finish my sentence before I found myself across Mummy’s lap, receiving another sound spanking. At least it wasn’t bare-bottomed this time, but the knickers offered little protection, and I was soon bawling my eyes out.

It was a very meek boy who was stood up after his spanking and was shown which dress he was to be put into. It was a dark blue corduroy pinafore dress, with a bib at the front and cross straps at the back and over the shoulders. Mummy undid the buttons at the side and made me step into it. She pulled it up and into place around my waist, then put the straps over my shoulders. She adjusted the straps so that they were as long as they could go, but the dress was still quite short on me.

“Never mind, Charlie,” Mummy said as she did the buttons up for me. “You’ll just have to be careful when you bend or sit down, so that you don’t show everyone your knickers.”

I was so humiliated. There I was, in a dress and knickers, with a very sore bottom from my spankings, and my little sister grinning from ear to ear at my fate. I couldn’t sit in the front seat again because it was wet, so I had to sit next to Abigail. “Keep your knees together, Charlie,” she said, “or people will see your knickers!” I hung my head in shame, but closed my knees together nevertheless.
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#3
An exquisite story Ali. Thanks. I think poor Charlie may be staying with Abigail and Daisy's friends for the week too.
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