Asking for It – Week Two
By Diaper Spanks
I was on my best behavior all week. With the
threat of spankings renewed I had no interest in
mischief, a fact my parents praised me for; and my
friends mocked me for. As the weekend approached I
both dreaded and anxiously awaited my promised
Sunday discipline. I hated that ass whipping I had
gotten the week before, but I wanted to be a good
boy and knew that being spanked help me be one.
Sunday arrived, and I started getting more
nervous by the minute. So it was almost a relief
when Dad came into my room with his belt in his hand
just after noon. “Son, come out to the garage with
“I thought... bedtime” I stammered, suddenly
“Your mother and I are going to a movie tonight,
so unless you want to get it in front of your
sitter, you best come on.” He explained, and I
jumped up from my chair and followed him, not
wanting an audience for what I had asked for.
In the garage I found dad had laid out an old
area rug, and in the center of it was an old ottoman
that he had extended the legs on to make a spanking
bench. It was leather and well padded... at least my
front would be comfortable, I thought to myself.
“Strip down to your panties and have a seat.” He
said and pointed to the bench. I took my shirt and
shoes off with no pain, but was surprisingly ashamed
to lower my pants I swallowed hard, and then slid
them down exposing my diaper and rubber pants. Of
course Dad knew that Mom had decided to extend my
diaper use as her part of contributing to my
discipline, but this was the first time he saw me in
a diaper... and worse yet, I knew it was wet. I had
peed while gaming on my computer and again when Dad
had called for the whipping to commence. I was
shaking now, but got my pants off and sat on the
Dad pulled his bar stool over from his work bench
and sat across from me. He put a large hand on my
shoulder. “Relax; I know my little boy wees on
himself.” He said with a smile and I smiled too as
it was funny to hear him say wee. “Before we start
do you have anything you want to confess?”
“Huh? I asked confused.
“Any naughtiness you feel bad about and want
included in your punishment?”
“Oh. I... uh... I didn't do my math homework the
other day and got a zero for it. That's it I think.”
“That's not so bad... but school work is
important and must be done Son.
“Okay, stand up and put your hands on your head.”
Dad instructed, and I obeyed. He reached for my
waterproof pants and unsnapped the left side, and
then the right before pulling the vinyl panty off of
me. He then untapped my diaper and removed it
rolling it up into itself and closing it with the
tapes like Mom does. She must have taught him. He
put the diaper in the trash, and set the panty on
the washing machine before returning to me. “Alright
now, turn around and bend over.” He said, as he
folded the belt in half.
“I want you to think about being a good boy,
helping your Mother and doing your work.
Understand?” I nodded, and a moment later the first
stroke of Dad's belt landed on my backside. I yelped
and realized Dad had not sock gagged me. Somehow
through the pain I knew this meant he was expecting
me to take my punishment like a big boy.
The second and third strikes were both harder
than the one before, and he continued to increase
his intensity through the tenth smack. He paused
then for a moment and said “Brace yourself.” I
grabbed the edges of the ottoman and clenched my
teeth as the eleventh, twelfth and thirteenth stroke
landed. They were slightly softer than the tenth,
but came in quicker succession, as did the next
seven in the set. He paused again, allowing me to
re-position myself and catch my breath. Then came
ten more, fast and hard and I finally began to cry,
something I just then realized I hadn't been doing
already. I took 20 without tears! I was proud of
myself, even as I bawled like a baby through the
“And now: the homework issue.” Dad announced and
I felt another lick, different than the others. It
didn't land as hard, but stung and burned more. I
looked back to see Dad holding a wooden paddle.
“Like it?” He asked and I shook my head NO
furiously. “Good.” He responded then returned to his
work. I got ten with the paddle, and five with his
hand 'for good measure' before he announced the
session complete and instructed me to sit again. I
did so, tenderly, and Dad retook his seat.
“I'm very proud of you, you know. Admitting to
needing strict discipline mustn't have been easy...
but it is good for you. You're growing up to be a
good man, and that means you'll be a good father to
your kids someday.” I was filled with pride at his
words, and started to tear up again with emotion.
Dad held his arms open, and I got up and wrapped my
arms around him in a big hug. “I love you.” we both
said, and hugged for a good minute before he
signaled for me to release him.
Dad had me stand beside the spanking bench slash
ottoman as he produced a fresh diaper from a box by
his workbench. I saw then that there were three
identical boxes... cases of diapers! This was not a
situation that my parents expected to end anytime
Dad unfolded the diaper, and laid it out on the
ottoman, then had me sit on the brief and lean back
as far as I could without falling, while he pulled
the diaper through my legs and applied the tape
tabs. I got up and Dad adjusted one of the tapes and
checked the fit for snugness. He picked up my shirt
and pants and took them over the washer adding them
to the pile created by the vinyl panty. He reached
into a basket of clean laundry and pulled out a
white shirt. “Stick em up!” He kidded with a
finger-gun motion and I lifted my arms high into the
air as he threaded the shirt over my arms and head.
But it wasn't a plain old shirt I realized as Dad
reached between my legs and fastened the back of the
shirt to the front with several pop-snaps. It was a
one-piece baby shirt! I looked up at Dad and he just
smiled. “Just go with it, your mom thinks you'll
find it comfortable. And you do look adorable in
your onesie” He added with a chuckle. “Now go back
to your little game. We'll call you down when your
sitter gets here.
“I can't wear this when John is here!” I said
referring to my sitter.
“Of course you can, Mom's already told him he's
getting a raise since there's diaper-changing
“Ugh!” I moaned embarrassed.
“Go play, it'll be fine.”
I padded off to my room with my bottom on fire,
thickly padded and snuggled by my body suit. How
could I be both a good big boy and a little baby boy
at the same time? And yet... that's exactly what I