Diaper Punishment Personal Blog of Diaper Punisher and Webmaster

Bedwetter’s Punishment – by Bill

The following is a true life account of the diaper punishment I endured from the ages of ten to thirteen. I have told this story before and have had many people claim it couldn’t possibly have happened. You just need to keep in mind that I am 41 years old and grew up in the seventies. Things were much different back them. Children were spanked often and I don’t mean a pat on the butt. I mean a butt blistering, can’t sit for a week ass whooping. Many parents also used humiliation as a form of control or punishment. If you didn’t grow up in those times, you are lucky.

Anyway, I started puberty when I was ten years old. There were a lot of things in body going through changes. It somehow affected my bladder and led to me wetting my bed. The first couple times it happened, my mother just told me accidents happen and not to worry about it. After four wet beds in two weeks though, she was not pleased. She insisted I was simply too lazy to get out of bed and use the toilet, so she began to punish me when I wet the bed. It started off with spankings, but when the bedwetting didn’t stop she escalated to diaper punishment.

One day at the grocery store, she walked down the baby aisle and started perusing the baby diapers. She grabbed a big box of the largest size Pampers(yes they came in a box back then) and commented that hopefully they would fit me. Knowing that she intended those diapers for me, I was suddenly struck by intense embarassment at walking around the store with diapers in the cart. Of course, in hindsight, most people would assume I had a baby sibling, but my ten year old mind insisted everyone knew they were for me. On the way home, she told me that from now on I will wear diapers to bed every night. And if I wake up wet, I will wears diapers the entire next day as well. If I stayed dry for one solid week, I would not be required to wear diapers to bed anymore.

It only took a couple days before I wet the bed again. Of course, this time I wet the diaper. When Mom found out, she told me that I knew the rules. She also added that diapers were expensive, so she would change me after I pooped. As per my daily routine, that poop came shortly after breakfast. I didn’t think there was any way I would be able to poop in a diaper, but the cramps didn’t give me much choice. When I went to tell Mom what I had done so she could change me, she told me she was busy with her needlepoint and would change me when she was done. That was two hours later.

Many people tell stories about how they weren’t allowed to cover their diapers or were purposely humiliated with public displays, but that never happened to me. I wore normal clothes every day, but I had a diaper on under my pants some days. Unfortunately, that also included school days, though she would always change me promptly after a messy diaper on school days.

This went on for over two years and I never did manage to stay dry for an entire week. In fact, at some points, I was diapered for a week or more thanks to nightly wetting. The wetting slowed down as my body began to settle into it’s post puberty stage and stopped altogether when I was almost fourteen. According to my therapist, and it makes sense to me, my diaper fetish and desire for diaper punishment was most likely triggered by the diaper punishment treatment during the most formative period of my sexual life – puberty.

Letter: Diaper Thief – by Cory

Unlike most people, I was not very good at hiding my diaper fetish from my mother. Either I was just lazy or, as my therapist seems to think, I intentionally left my cache of fetish stuff in an easy to find location hoping to get caught.

You see, my mother was the snooping type and found my first stash when I was thirteen years old. In my stash, I had a several stories I had written about being forced to wear diapers and being treated like a baby against my will. I also had a few baby diapers that were far too small for me, but I used to just rub myself with them when masturbating. Being the snoopy mother she is, she made sure to read everything I wrote and then told me how disgusting and disturbing it was as she spanked me. She found my new stash a couple more times over the next year and both times I got the same treatment.

When I was fourteen, I made a huge discovery at a local second hand store. I found my first ever bag of adult diapers. They only cost two dollars, but I was too embarassed to carry them up to the register and pay for them, so I stuck them under my coat and walked out the front door. Big mistake. It was clear I was trying to steal them and they dragged me back into the store. The cops came and called my mother and she had to come down and pick me up. She had to pay for the diapers I tried to steal and I knew I was in big trouble.

When we got home, I got the worst spanking of my life. Then, to my surprise, she handed me one of the diapers and told me to put it on. It was incredibly embarassing to be putting on a diaper in front of someone that clearly didn’t approve of my fetish, but I knew better than to disobey her. As I taped the diaper into place, she grabbed a pair of sweatpants from my room and had me put them on backwards. I wasn’t sure why she wanted them backwards until after I had them on. She pulled the drawstring tight around my waist and tied it tightly in the small of my back. She double knotted it and tugged it hard to ensure I couldn’t untie it myself. I was basically locked into my diaper. She was clearly still upset with me, but said nothing until she sent me to bed at eight o’clock.

When I woke up in the morning, I needed to pee as usual. It was at this point that I realized I didn’t know if she intended for me to pee in the diaper or ask her for help. Not wanting to make another mistake, I found her in the kitchen and told her I needed to use the toilet. She just looked at me and said “You’re wearing it”. Clearly she intended for me to use the diaper. When I began to pout, she shot me a dark look and insisted that I was only getting what I always wanted. Realizing she was right, I went back to my room and wet my first diaper since babyhood.

After breakfast, it donned on me that diapers weren’t just for peeing in as the urge to have my after breakfast bowel movement set in. Once again, not wanting to piss off my mother, I let her know that I needed to go number two. At this point, she gave me a long speech about how I had crossed the line by stealing diapers to feed my disgusting fetish and that the only way she could think to break me of it is to give me exactly what I wanted, so I could see that it isn’t as fun as the fantasy. I took this to mean I was meant to have a messy diaper as well.

Ten minutes later, I was sitting in a very wet and messy diaper. When my mother smelled it, she told me to play outside until lunch, because I was stinking up her house. As I walked out the door, she told me if I was good she would change me at lunch time. As much as I had fantasized about just this, reality was clearly not as good as fantasy. It was embarassing and uncomfortable and I just sat outside fearing that my friends might show up and find out I was wearing a messy diaper. I wanted this to end and swore to myself I would never fantasize about diapers again.

At lunch time, mother came and got me. She took me to the bathroom and untied my pants. Then, she had me lie on the floor as she untaped the diaper and wiped me clean with a dozen wet paper towels. Once clean, she told me to take a shower while she finished fixing lunch and to wait for her in my room after my shower. At this point, I figured my diaper punishment was over and that I would get either a spanking, a lecture or both after my shower.

Instead, I was met with yet another diaper. I began to tear up when I realized I would be spending another day in a diaper, but my mother just explained that my punishment was to wear diapers until the diapers I tried to steal were gone. She then made a point of counting the diapers in the bag and announcing there were still nine diapers left, which meant nine more days in diapers with one diaper change a day. She followed with a comment that more diapers could be purchased if I didn’t do as I was told. This time I was not given a pair of pants to wear as mom told me to come down and have some lunch. In fact, I spent most of the next nine days wearing nothing more than a diaper and a t-shirt.

The embarassment of wearing diapers in front of my mother quickly wore off, but I was still mortified at the idea of being found out by my friends. Spending one embarassing day in diapers was enough to make me swear off my fetish, but ten days in diapers had the opposite effect. Because I had gotten used to wearing diapers in front of my mother, I began to enjoy it again. Of course, I didn’t tell her that, but I was incredibly tempted to do something stupid so she would buy more diapers. The only thing that stopped me was the knowledge that she would probably take the punishment up a notch and maybe send me to the park in a diaper with my pants or something. In hindsight, I know she would never do that, but in the mind of a kid I figured it was likely.

On the tenth day of diaper punishment, mom took me to the drug store. She shopped for the normal stuff she usually bought, but then took a stroll down the adult diaper aisle as she carefully glanced at the diapers on the shelves. She picked up on bag and commented that they must be extra thick diapers, because there was only a dozen diapers in that huge bag. I began to wonder what rule I had broken to earn more time in diapers and began to panic at the thought of being embarassed in front of my friends. She realized what I was thinking and quickly told me that these were going to be put in her closet for the next time she found dirty stories in my room.