Date: 01/30/00 12:56:50 PM Name: Candy Kitty Email: Subject: Samantha Wears Diapers, part 2 SAMANTHA WEARS DIAPERS Part Two The two police officers ushered Sam and Susie into Principal Skinner’s office. He was ready for them. "This is unacceptable girls. I’ve telephoned your parents and they are on their way here." Sam and Susie shot scared glances at each other. "Thank you, officers. We’ll handle it from here," the principal excused the officers. As soon as they were gone, Principal Skinner turned back to the girls. "Well, do you want to tell me what you were doing at the 7-eleven during school hours? You were both supposed to be in biology class. Mr. Carp tells me that he excused you both to go home. You know, pretending to be sick is not very original." Principal Skinner was interrupted by the arrival of the girls’ mothers. Both of whom looked VERY angry. Sam’s mother was raving. "What the heck is going on here?! First you wet your pants like a two-year-old, then you skip school like a delinquint. What am I going to do with you? I’ve about had it!" Susie chuckled a bit. "You wet your pants, Sam? Shame, shame." She grinned. But that grin quickly faded when she noticed that nobody else was laughing. Far from it, her mother was glaring at her. "You think that’s funny, Susie? You’re even more juvenile than she is! What do you think you’re doing throwing your future away by skipping school? And all so that you can go to 7-ELEVEN TO GET A SLURPEE?!" Principal Skinner had a gleam in his eye. "Well, I think you’ve both hit the nail on the head. These girls are acting very childishly. I have a suggestion, if you like, on making the punishment fit the crime." Both mothers turned inquiringly to Principal Skinner. "Treat them like the age they’re acting. Diaper them," he said simply. The mothers looked stunned for a moment, blinking their eyes stupidly at him. Then Sam’s mother snapped out of it. "That’s brilliant," she said. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before. Sammi, come with me." Sam looked horrified. "Mom, you can’t possibly mean it!" "I most certainly do, young lady. And you had better cooperate with me or I’ll give you a spanking you’ll never forget." Sam looked around her panickedly, as if she could find some way out of the principal’s office other than the door directly behind her mother. "Sammi!" her mother ordered. Sam slowly got to her feet. Her mother grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the door. Then she turned back to Principal Skinner. "We’ll need a couple of days to get Sammi outfitted." "Fine," said Principal Skinner. The girls are both suspended through the end of the week anyway." Sam’s mother nodded tersely and pulled Sam the rest of the way out the door. Sam stumbled along behind her, trying to apologize, swearing that it would never happen again. Her mother was not listening. She was just plain furious as she dragged a protesting Sam down the corridor. "Get in the car," she demanded. Sam meekly entered the car. "That’s the last time you sit in the front seat for a while, Sammi. Enjoy it." Sam glanced at her mother quizically. "Babies sit in car seats in the back. From here on out, you will be treated like the baby you’ve been behaving like." Sam figured her mother was just venting. She would calm down and things would be back to normal. In the meantime, Sam meant to not upset her mother any further, so she just looked down humbly. Sam noticed that they were not heading for home. "Where are we going, Mom?" she asked. "To the drug store. You don’t think I have diapers waiting at home for you, do you?" "But Mom you can’t be serious about this!" "Oh, I’m dead serious," her mother replied firmly. "I won’t do it. I’ll run away. You can’t make me!" screamed Sam. Her mother reached over and grabbed her wrist. "We’ll have no more of this! I’m sick and tired of your attitude. I probably should have done this a long time ago. Now, look. I’m a lot bigger than you are, and I am your legal guardian. You’ll be very sorry if you attempt anything of the kind." She was right. Sam was only 5 feet tall and 100 lbs. soaking wet. Even in the petite section, adult clothes rarely fit her small frame. Her mother, though, was quite large, 5 foot 9 inches and solid. And she already knew from her experience that afternoon that the police take her back home if she ran away. Sam worried that by her outburst she had just sealed her fate. She said no more during the ride. When they arrived at the drug store, Sam’s mother pulled the terrified Sam by the hand up to the pharmacist’s counter. "We need diapers and plastic pants in a size to fit my daughter here." To Sam, it sounded as loud as a gunshot. She turned bright red and stared at the floor. The pharmacist came out from behind the counter and looked at Sam. "Hmm," she said, "I think I have just the products you’re looking for." There went that hope for Sam. They did in fact have diapers in her size. Her mother was still holding her hand. When Sam tried to pull away, her mother scolded her. "Stay with Mommy, Sammi honey." Sam groaned inwardly. This was worse than she had ever imagined. "Do you want disposible or cloth diapers?" asked the pharmacist. "Both, please. We’ll also need a plastic bed cover, plenty of plastic panties, and some fast-acting laxatives." That got Sam’s attention. "No," she whined. "Why are you doing this to me?" "Hush, Sammi. This is for your own good. I won’t use the laxatives unless you’re naughty." Sam felt trapped. Finally, the pharmacist finished gathering all of the supplies they had in stock. Sam was shocked to see that their total cost was over $200. Her mother was always quite frugal, and she knew that if her mother was spending that kind of money on these things, she fully planned on putting them to good use. "Come back next week if you want more of the disposibles. I’ll order them for you. Will you want more of the super-thick nighttime ones or should I order some of the slimlines for you?" "We’ll stick with the thicker ones. Sammi here is a heavy wetter. Aren’t you dear," she nudged Sam’s arm and gripped her hand tighter, warning her with her gaze that she had better answer. Sam stuttered, "Uh, uh, yes, um, yeah." "Okay then," replied the pharmacist. See you again soon." Sam’s mother grinned. "Oh, yes, you will be seeing us again soon. Come along Sammi." Sam thought that they were at last done, but her mother was not finished. She dragged Sam up the baby aisle and gathered various infant supplies—bottles, a changing pad, formula, pacifiers, and bibs. Sam was utterly humiliated. She said nothing as her mother brought these products to the front counter. "How old is your baby?" asked the salesgirl. "Ask her yourself," responded her mother, "she’s standing right here." Sam felt rooted to the floor. She could not lift her eyes above the counter. "Go on, Sammi. Tell the nice girl how old you are and why you’re going to be treated like a 2-year-old baby." Without looking up, Sam answered hoarsely, "I’m eighteen. And I’m being punished for skipping school." Her mother continued for her, "Since she came home from school with wet pants just yesterday, I figured this was a fitting punishment." The salesgirl giggled. "I guess you’re right. Gosh, my 8-year-old hasn’t wet her pants since she was 4." Sam just kept her head bowed while her mother finished her purchases. Then they went back out to the car. "Into the back seat, Sammi. You might as well get used to it." Without a note of protest, Sam climbed into the back seat. To her surprise, her mother came around and buckled her in with the seatbelt. "Now be a good girl for Mommy." Samantha just sat, stunned. None of this could be happening to her. Where did her adulthood and independence go? It hadn’t been that long since she and Susie were ordering slurpees for themselves and feeling so grown up. Now she was being treated like a 2-year-old. Worse than that, like a 2-year-old who wet her pants. They were almost home. Samantha wondered what awaited her there. She was very apprehensive as they drove up the driveway. They stopped outside the garage. "Don’t you dare take off your seatbelt Baby Sammi," her mother warned. Sam had been about to do just that. Instead, she waited for her mother to take her out. Her mother came around the side of the car and unbuckled her. She took Sam’s hand and led her towards the front door. "You just sit on the couch and wait for me while I bring in all of your supplies," her mother ordered. Still stunned, Sam did as she was told. In what seemed like no time at all, her mother had brought in all of the diapers and other baby supplies from the drugstore—in full view of the neighbors, of course, who must have been wondering why Mrs. Jones was buying baby supplies. They all knew that she had only one child, Sam, who was a teenager. Sam knew it was only a matter of time before they all knew that she was the baby. "Okay, Baby Sammi. Come over here to Mommy." Her mother was laying out the changing pad and gesturing for Sam to come lie down on it. She didn’t move. "Samantha!" her mother yelled. "You WILL obey me NOW or you’ll be sorry." Sam couldn’t have moved if she’d wanted. She just stared at the changing pad on the floor in disbelief. "Fine, if that’s the way you want it to be, young lady." Her mother marched up to Sam, picked her up by one arm, sat herself down on the couch, and pulled Sam over her knee. She spanked her HARD over her tight jeans. "Ow! Mom, stop, stop, this really hurts. Ow!" Sam began to cry. "That’s right, you cry, baby. I can see that I should have done this a long time ago. Your bottom is going to be bright red, and that will remind you who’s in charge here. Do (smack!) you (smack!) hear (smack!) me (smack!)?" From that position Sam hardly had a choice. "Okay, Mom, okay," she sobbed. "’Mommy.’ Little babies call their mothers ‘Mommy.’" Sam sniffed and said in a small voice, "Okay mommy." Her bottom was burning; it felt like it was on fire. "Okay, dear. You can stand up now." Her mother then unbuttoned Sam’s levis and tugged them down her thighs. Next came her panties. "Oh, dear. We can’t have a hairy baby, you’ll get diaper rash. Come on baby, let’s go upstairs and get rid of that nasty old hair." Fearing another spanking, Sam did as she was told. The tears rolled down her face as her mother shaved her clean. Her mother pulled her into her ample bosom. "It’s all right, baby. Everything’s going to be okay. Mommy’s going to take care of everything, don’t you worry," she said, stroking Sam’s hair. Sam did feel curiously comforted by this and slowly stopped crying. "Good girl," said her mother. "Let’s go back downstairs and get that bottom diapered." Sam started. She had almost forgotten about the diaper that awaited her downstairs. But she was out of fight for now. She followed her mother downstairs and meekly layed on top of the cloth diaper that her mother had spread out. "There, that’s a good girl," cooed Mrs. Jones. "We’ll get you all nice and cozy." When her mother pulled the diaper up to her bare crotch, Sam realized that her mother had stacked three of the thick diapers together. She was going to bulge hugely. "How about the ruffly panties for today, sweetheart? Today is kind of special." Without waiting for an answer, Mrs. Jones threaded Sam’s legs through the infantile plastic pants. She then had Sam stand up and pulled the panties the rest of the way up, tucking in stray bits of cloth diaper. "There. All done. Take a look at yourself in the mirror Baby Sammi." Sam walked numbly over to the full-size mirror in the entryway. She couldn’t believe what she saw. There she was wearing her short, tight halter top over a huge diaper. It was so thick that she could barely waddle. She started to cry again. "There, there, Sammi. You look darling. Of course we’re going to have to find you some clothes that will fit over your diapers. For now, let’s just get you into a nice comfy T-shirt." Sam turned from the mirror and stared at her mother. "Come on. Hurry up." She held her hand out for Sam to take. As it turned out, Sam was grateful for her mother’s support as she climbed the stairs. The thick diapers made it very difficult to climb, and she stumbled quite a bit as she hung onto her mother’s hand. In Sam’s bedroom, her mother found an old pink T-shirt. Sam had stopped wearing it when she developed breasts because its loose shape hid what cleavage she had, which wasn’t much. It wasn’t even any good for wearing over leggings because it was so short. "Come on, Sammi. Let’s get this big-girl top off of you." She pulled Sam’s clingy top off over her head and quickly replaced it with the loose pink T-shirt. It covered only the top inch of Sam’s diaper. Sam didn’t think it was possible, but the T-shirt made her look even more juvenile. Her breasts were invisible and the bulging diaper was even more evident as it jutted out beneath her shirt. During all of this time, of course, Sam had not had an opportunity to use the bathroom. She found that she needed to now. "Um, Mom ......" "’Mommy,’" interrupted Mrs. Jones. "Mommy," started Sam again, "I really have to go to the bathroom." "Don’t be silly," her mother said. "You’re wearing diapers. You don’t have to worry about the potty anymore." "You don’t mean that you want me to wet these diapers, do you?" Sam asked in disbelief. "Oh, yes I do. And I do not want to hear one more word about it. I will decide when you need changing, so don’t bother telling me you’re wet. Play in your room for a little while." "No! This is ridiculous! I refuse to wear wet diapers like an infant. I need to go to the toilet and I’m going!" she announced. Her mother shook her head. "I told you to cooperate or you’d be sorry. Now you’ve been naughty." Sam realized her mistake as her mother approached. "No, no! I’m sorry, I’m sorry!" "Too late." Her mother gripped her arm and pulled her to the bed. With Sam over her knee, she smacked Sam’s diapered bottom. It didn’t hurt as much because of the diaper and Sam was grateful for that. On top of the earlier punishment, though, it still hurt quite a bit, and soon Sam was indeed sorry that she’d been naughty. "You stay in your room," said her mother. She soon realized why her mother wanted her to stay in her room. It was the only room in the house that could be locked from the outside. Sam was trapped. She felt her diapers ever so carefully, feeling like her body was a million miles away from where she was patting the plastic panties. With nothing else to do, she waddled over to her bookshelf and took down a novel that she’d been meaning to read. Her huge bottom did not fit comfortably into her desk chair, so she propped herself up with pillows on her bed. It felt strange sitting on top of all those layers, almost like she had a pillow attached to her bottom. She was glad of that, as her bottom still stung from the two spankings she had received. She leaned back to read and soon fell asleep. To be continued .......... Web Forum © by Bravenet Web Services