Amy unconsciously squeezed her eyes shut in a vain attempt to block out the sunlight peering in through her bedroom window. She always despised mornings and this one was no different. She groaned as she realized the futility of her efforts.The sun would not be relenting any time soon. Amy slowly opened her eyes. Awakening from the deep sleep of the previous night left her in a groggy head space. It took her a minute to familiarize herself with her surroundings. Eventually, it started coming back to her. This was her new bedroom. She and her mom had just moved here a couple weeks ago.
Moving is always stressful, especially when it involves uprooting your entire life and trying to start over in an unfamiliar city. Of course, she understood why her mother needed to do this. She harbored no hostilities. Still, she wished things could go back to the way they were and never had to change.
As Amy processed her surroundings, she suddenly became aware of an all too familiar sensation. Her eyes shot open.
"No, no, no! Not again!" she muttered to herself as she whipped the bedding off of her. She was greeted with the same sight she had seen every morning since they moved in: a large damp circle surrounding her and drenched pajamas. She had wet the bed. Again.
This crisis immediately sparked her to life. She frantically began yanking the sheets off her bed and massing them into a giant ball. She quickly removed her pajama pants and added them to the pile. She grabbed a pair of sweats off her cluttered floor and hopped around her room, as she tried to get her legs through the openings. She had to make it to the washing machine without her mother seeing. Naturally, she worried about a possible punishment, but more than that, she could not bear the shame that would accompany disappointing her mother again.
She hesitantly creaked the door open. She glanced around, making sure her mother was nowhere to be found. When she felt the coast was clear she scurried out and down the hall. The washing machine was in sight. She felt an immediate sense of relief. But it would be short lived, as in order to get there, she walked by the kitchen.
"Amy Rose!" Amy froze, as a defeated grimace overcame her face. "What are you doing?" Her mother's sharp voice emanated from the kitchen. Amy turned to see her mother approaching fast.
"Oh, h-hi, mom! Just... d-doing some morning laundry!" she feigned a smile, in a final effort to avoid her impending doom.
"You're washing your sheets? Again? Didn't we just wash those yesterday?" her mother had the condescending, all-knowing tone that only a mother can have. She clearly knew what happened, but she was letting Amy hopelessly struggle in the web of her lie.
Amy could not think of anything to say. A wave of hot embarrassment washed over her face and she could feel her throat closing up. Amy could only look down and nod. Her mother now towered over her. She extended her hand to Amy, a gesture saying, "Hand it over," without any actual words being said. Amy reluctantly gave her mother the ball of sheets.
Upon touching them, Amy's mother could immediately confirm her suspicions.
"Again?!" Amy's mother snapped, with a sudden burst of anger in her voice. "Amy, we cannot keep doing this every day!"
Amy eyes were glued to the floor, as if somehow it held the key to her salvation. She was barely able to squeak out a quiet, "I'm sorry, Mom," before losing her voice all together. Her vision became blurred by the presence of tears starting to form in the corners of her eyes.
"Sorrys aren't good enough," her mother admonished. "At this rate, you're going to ruin your sheets, your pajamas... your mattress is probably already stained," she frowned and shook her head. She paused, as if deeply contemplating her next sentence. Finally, she sighed, before continuing.
“Amy, I was really hoping it would not come to this, but you’ve left me no choice…” Amy’s mother started ominously. She went into the laundry room and started the wash cycle for the sheets. Amy remained in place, still unable to say anything. She could hear her mother moving things around. She was not sure what would come next, but she had a bad feeling about it.
When Amy’s mother emerged from the laundry room, she was carrying a large package under her arm. Amy tilted her head up, just enough to identify what her mother was carrying. Upon seeing it, Amy’s voice miraculously returned.
“NO! I am NOT going to wear diapers, Mom!” Amy whined. She was immediately defensive, as she held up her hands in a preemptive attempt to keep her mother away.
“Amy, I am not any happier about this than you are. I waited two weeks for you to figure this out yourself and you are clearly not making any progress. So, until you can prove to me that you do not need these, you will be wearing diapers to bed, every night. End of discussion.”
“Noooooo! Mom, that’s way too embarrassing! I am not going to wear diapers!” Amy clutched her fists and stamped her foot, with a look of childish defiance in her eyes. Amy’s mother was unimpressed.
“You know what, Amy? You wet the bed, you tried to lie about it, and now you are throwing a tantrum. Your behavior this morning has gone from disappointing to downright inexcusable!” Amy’s mother paused again, eyeing her daughter for a moment.
“That settles it. I’m going to do something I haven’t needed to do for more than 10 years.” Amy’s mother swiftly grabbed her daughter’s wrist and began pulling her to the kitchen table. Amy was startled and confused. Her mother had not grabbed her like this since she was a child. Amy briefly tried to resist, but her mother proved to be too strong and was not even phased by Amy’s resistance.
Amy’s mother set the diapers on the table and sat down on a chair, pulling Amy to her right side. “Amy Rose, I will not tolerate your behavior any longer! You're getting a spanking!”
At the mention of a spanking, Amy’s entire world seemed to slow down. She had outgrown spankings ages ago, but the memories of how painful they were came flooding back. She could not stand to think about it, yet here she was, about to relive the traumatic experiences.
Amy was too stunned to fight back as her mother lowered her pants pulled her over the waiting knee. Before she knew it, Amy's bottom was perfectly positioned for a spanking.
*SMACK*
A hand making contact with her bottom was enough bring Amy back to reality.
“Ow!” she cried out. But before she could completely process what was happening, a rain of spanks landed on her butt.
*SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK*
“Ow! Ow! OW! OWW!” the volume of Amy’s cries increased with each spank. Clearly, years of not spanking had not diminished her mother’s expertise.
“Honestly, this has been a long time coming, Amy,” her mother chided, without breaking the rhythm of the spanking. “I’m beginning to think it was a mistake when I decided to stop spanking you, all those years ago.”
Before long, the pain, combined with the humiliation of the whole situation, overwhelmed Amy. Tears began flowing down her face as her cries turned into sobs.
“Please! OW! I’m sorry, mommy! AHHH! Please, stop spanking me! I’ll be good! OWWWW! Please, mommy!”
She had not said “mommy” for many years, but something about the spanking made it seem natural. Eventually, Amy’s sobbing and begging turned into nonsensical blubbering. Her legs were kicking and flailing so much that her pants were flung off, leaving her bare from the waist down. She wiggled and squirmed, trying to get away, but her mother held her firmly in place. She was bawling uncontrollably, willing to do anything to make the pain stop. But her mother was not convinced, yet. The spanking continued.
The whole spanking probably only lasted about 15 minutes, but Amy will never be able to confirm that. She had lost all concept of time. When her mother finally stopped, all Amy could do was cry. And she continued crying, as her mother sat her up and pulled her into a hug. Amy’s butt was on fire, but surprisingly, the embrace did wonders to help Amy calm down.
Eventually, her tears turned to sniffles, as Amy final regained some semblance of composure. Sensing this, her mother continued with the next segment of her punishment.
“Amy, I love you, but I will not tolerate this kind of behavior any more. If you act up again, you can expect the exact same treatment,” Amy was still unable to speak, but she managed a subtle nod. “Now, normally, you will only be wearing these diapers at night, but to further demonstrate exactly how childish you have been behaving, I’ve decided that you are going to be in diapers for the rest of today, as well. Come with me.”
Amy’s mother led her to their living room, still bare from the waist down. Part of her felt like she should resist, but her will had been broken. She submissively followed her mother, completely accepting what was to come. Her mother laid her down over an open diaper. Amy had not even realized her mother had grabbed baby powder, until it was being applied. It was an unusual sensation, but the cool powder actually felt good on her red bottom. Then the diaper was wrapped around her waist and taped in place. Amy examined her diaper. It had cute floral designs on the front. She had not been diapered since she was a baby. The thickness created an unusual sensation between her legs, but ultimately, the soft seat felt good in her condition.
“Now go stand in the corner for a bit and think about your behavior today. This could have all been avoided, if you’d behaved like an adult,” her mother commanded. Amy did as she was told, standing in the corner of the living room, with her spanked, diapered bottom on display. She contemplated everything that happened before realizing that if she had to wear diapers for the rest of the day, her day was about to get a whole lot worse.
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