I have a few stories I add to off and on for many years. This is a sequel of another, longer story somewhere on my computer that needs a lot of editing because it is very long and a bit all over the place. I have a number of parts to this to edit and post in the coming weeks. Don’t expect groundbreaking storytelling or aliens or whatever.
The Pool Party
Today was the day of Mommy’s big pool party. It was a beautiful day, no chance of rain, and mom certainly had a spectacular backyard to show off - but that wasn’t her main attraction. I felt like I was, and I was not looking forward to it at all. I pondered this thought as I awoke to the light brightening up through my curtains. I pounded my sheets with my fists in frustration realizing the day had come. This was reality and I wished I could be anywhere else. I found myself sulking and had to relax and calm down before I started to cry with anger. Really, I had found crying to be my only relief lately.
I wished I didn’t have to face the day, but it wasn’t like I had a choice. I had become used to doing as I was told during my punishment, and a hard spanking last night reminded me that any resistance is futile. My bottom was spanked red and I cried myself to sleep last night. I shouldn’t have complained to Mommy about her putting me to bed early. It was at 6:30pm, even earlier than usual, because ‘tomorrow was going to be a big day’. I ended up staying up, staring at my mobile and slowly drank my bottle. I got angry and kicked at my sheets and mumbled to myself, not thinking it was loud enough for the baby monitor. I won’t be making that mistake again. Within a minute or two, Mommy came rushing in and before I knew it, the crib bars were down and my bottle fell from my lips. My mouth agape, bottle fell to the floor. I was pulled away from under my sheets, dragged to the rocking chair and was over her knee within seconds. I kicked about and whined trying to break free, but my onesie was unbuttoned, my diaper pulled down and I received a 30 swat spanking on my powdered bum. I was told I was a bad boy and that I better behave for the pool party, and that all of her friends couldn’t wait to see me.
Mom has her vacation from work for ten or eleven days and I was back home. A story for later, it was her friend’s idea to do this to me for my punishment of poor grades not allowing me to get into the colleges I needed to. I was manipulated, humiliated and belittled, quite literally, by her friend Monica and her daughter Dawn. thought it would be better to get away from there, but I found myself in more embarrassing situations with Mom. After a few days, I missed at least having someone around, even though Dawn and I did not really get along. She and her mom bullied me into submission and turning me into a baby until the last few days when Dawn went to far and we found both of ourselves in the crib. Mom had informed me that Dawn started “potty training” a week after I left because of good behaviour, but didn’t elaborate. She went on to tell me that the better I am for her, the sooner she would think about potty training me, but poked that I was a “going to be a long time before I’d be out of diapers”. Unfortunately, I had lost my temper a few times this week, but I am going to try harder. The spankings were getting worse to drive home the point that I needed to be a “good boy” because Mommy is sick of her ‘big crybaby’.
I wasn’t sure if Monica was coming today, but there were supposed to be at around a dozen ladies over to bask in the sun, swim in the pool, eat snacks and of course, drink copiously all day. They were ladies from the card nights as well as some of Mom’s other friends. Most were empty nesters, divorced or single, and I’ve met most of them before. I’ve never seen them in their bikinis, and they haven’t seen me in my diapers. Being of a community where looks do indeed matter, if there was any silver lining whatsoever, is that I’d at least be able to ogle at them while they pranced around. The thought was fleeting in knowing that I was the attraction likely the be ogled at. I wish I could just stay under my sheets all day, but Mommy told me it was going to be a great day for me to play with my toys outside where she and the ladies can watch and keep and eye on me. In essence, I felt like I was to be their entertainment.
The sunlight through the curtains got brighter and brighter with each passing thought and I slowly woke up and moved around. It took me a few moments to take a few deep breaths gather my bearings. I was in a crib, wearing a onesie and, of course, I wet my diaper. I couldn’t figure out why I began wetting at night, but I was being fed a lot of bottles of milk and juice all day long. You’d almost guess Mom actually liked changing my diapers. Well, it was that time again. I stretched and squirmed, hitting the bars of my crib. I was trapped and helpless. I called out for Mommy with hopes of her hearing me on the baby monitor to come and change me.
“Mommy!” I called out. I waited 15 seconds before calling out again and I repeated the process. My wet diaper was uncomfortably wet and felt like it could leak. Mommy gave me an extra bottle after my spanking last night, and I of course drank it to calm down my crying and get to sleep. Good thing it seems to have all been released because my diaper wouldn’t be able to take much more.
A few minutes went by and my frequency of calls changed to every thirty seconds, sounding my pathetically babyish and whiny with every call out of “Mommy!” I whimpered and called for her. After a few minutes, I felt an urge in my bum. This was pretty much routine for the last week, but I worried about how wet my diaper already was. I kept calling out for mommy hoping she would hear me. I turned over onto my stomach, kicked at my sheets and tried to hold it in, but it was too late. I let it all go in my diaper and poop spread all over my bottom. Fortunately, I didn’t wet much more it didn’t seem like there was a leak. I whimpered some more until I couldn’t help it anymore. I was uncomfortable and began crying and kicking harder, rustling the plastic liner of my crib mattress, unfurling my blue pacifier. I stuck it in my mouth for comfort.
“Mmmommmy! Mommy, pwease change me!” I called, muffled by the latex teat. Baby talk was important in appeasing mommy and lessening chances of getting spanked.
Finally, I heard movement and she made her way down the hall. I heard her rapid footsteps as if she was rushing and she entered just in her white bath robe. The robe was untied and she was rushing to tie it around her waist as she burst in, but not before I got a glance.
“Ooh no, my poor baby!” she said as she bent down over the crib bars and stroked my hair, “Mommy came as soon as she could, what’s the matter sweetie?”
Mommy’s hand moved from my head into my sheets and
“Uh oh, Mommy knows what it is!” she announced in a sing-song voice, “someone needs a diaper change!”
The routine was similar each morning. She did not come as soon as she could. I was starting to realize that she would take her time on purpose so I could finish ‘doing my business’. And she waited until I was whining enough.
Mommy pulled off my Sesame Street sheets and I squirmed in my dirty diaper. She also of course loved to hear me move about and cry on the baby monitor ‘like a little baby should’ and I wondered if she was watching me before she came in. I continued sucking on my pacifier that fell out of my mouth as she lovingly turned me over, tickled around my crotch and undid the buttons of my onesie. I was still whimpering, whining and half asleep bit I let out a little giggle and got more squirmy.
“Calm down, calm down, Mommy’s here,” She patted my diaper and said, “did my wittle baby go wet-wet in his pamper during sleepies again?” She teased. I just nodded my head.
“Y…yes Mommy.” I responded pathetically through my soother. Then she smelt the air in in exaggerating manner it and plugged her nose.
“PEE-YEW! Dirty baby! she yelped while squeezing her nostrils together to close her nose. Sometimes she would be sweet during my changes, I was trying to be as much of a ‘good boy’ as I could, but her demeanor changed, likely still upset from last night.
“You know, Jamie,” Mom began and put her hands on her hips, "I just don’t know if you’re ever going to grow up out of diapers.” she said in a disappointing tone.
I winced, knowing she was going to once again go off about being disappointed in me, as if I really had a choice.
“You’re clearly not ready for the potty. I was going to talk to you that about the possibility of Pull-ups you soon and was going to start by having you try to go poopies like a big boy this morning, but you aren’t ready for that, are you baby?"
I spat my pacifier out and stared at her with my jaw wide. She had teased the last few days that if I was good we would start potty training the upcoming week. Maybe I could have gone potty this morning if I just went to sleep last night and didn’t get in trouble. Suddenly I was crying uncontrollably, much worse than before. I kicked and screamed until Mommy tried to insert the soother in my mouth, but I wouldn’t stop crying and kicking.
“My goodness, another tantrum?”. Mommy said, acting calm and backing away from the crib. I continued wailing and calling out ‘Why?!’ and “I"m… not… a baby!!”. Mommy simply stood there with her arms crossed watching me. I just kept going and going until Mommy walked to the dresser and grabbed the baby monitor. She came back and put it in my face, turned down the volume and placed it on the counter. I momentarily stopped, and Mommy came closer instead of leaving the room.
“Just look at you,” she said while coming closer to pinch my cheek, " Not a baby? You aren’t a baby, hmm? Do 18-year olds wake up in their crib and start crying for their mommies to change their diaper ?”
I just stared at Mommy, trying to breath normally and calm down.
“So you’re not a baby, right?” Mommy placed her arms on her hips again, “You are throwing a tantrum in a dirty diaper in your crib in your nursery. You do want Mommy to change you, right?”
I couldn’t help but nod my head, I was defeated.
“Is your bum-bum not still hurting from your spanking last night?” Mommy asked, raising her hand in the air and I cowered my cheek into the pillow.
“Yes Mommy, it hurts.” I whimpered and my face went a deep shade of red.
“You are a baby,” she concluded, “ Just look at you crying in your crib with a poopy diaper on your bottom, bashful and whining because you are worried about all the company coming today, aren’t you?” Mommy raised her voice excitedly.