Tuesday, January 14, 2014

Diapers and Oil-Changes

(We're continuing from here. Charles and I had just come up with a unique take on domestic discipline.)

Pregnancy: lucky me, with my love for anal! Really, though, it was reasonably fulfilling, but not adventurous, so we'll skip over the pregnancies. There was a LOT of corner-time, and a lot of online searching for interesting maternity lingerie (of which there's not a whole heck of a lot around, unfortunately).

I did promise to talk about diapering while diapered, but as I think about it I'm not sure how much it will interest you, really. A promise is a promise, though.

I think it probably happened four or five times from 2004 (when Chloe was born) to 2012 (when Ethan was finally out of diapers) that for one of two reasons I was diapered for a day or more: either I'd more or less requested it, just because, you know, me and diapers; or Charles had decided there was something I needed a more or less constant reminder about--like bringing my car in for an oil-change. I think that latter situation happened twice, and it was really pretty hot (especially the first time), so I'll narrate it for you.

"Em, did you get your oil changed?"

"Oh goddammit."

The last time this had happened it had turned out that a $200 brake problem had turned into a $1000 brake problem because I hadn't gotten the brakes checked, which they would of course have been if I'd remembered to get the oil changed; I'd been paddled for that--automotive affairs are one of our DD areas. As if to emphasize the source of the problem, Chloe (2) ran through the scene, bound for something dangerous, as far as could be told from the enormous grin on her face.

"Chloe's in daycare now," Charles said.

"I know, I know. There's just so much. . ."


I hung my head, and clasped my hands in front of me. "But this is important. Yes."

"That's the car that carries the most precious things in the world to me."


"In my office, after bedtime."

"Yes, Sir."

I was spanked with his belt over my spanking-stool. Belt-spankings, delivered on my bare bottom, have a special role as a domestic-discipline trope, and I'd like to think I would have remembered the oil-change when I felt the warm sting that tends to linger in the morning, but Charles was a bit frustrated with me, and he said, when the spanking was over, "Sweetheart, please get a diaper and meet me in the bedroom" (my lovely little room was now of course Chloe's lovely little room; in the old days, that was where I was diapered--now it was where I diapered my daughter).

I spread the diaper on the bed, thinking that it had been so long since the last time, and that I had changed so many of Chloe's diapers now, that I might not even be into it any more. Charles came into the room behind me.

"Clothes off," he growled in my ear. "Your butt on the diaper."

I was definitely still into it, I realized. I stripped off my jeans and panties, then my t-shirt and my bra, feeling like a little girl who needs a particularly nasty diaper-change (one thing Chloe did for my diaper-fantasies, both welcome and un-, was to add a lot of texture), with all the shame that accompanies it for a big girl who has done something so shameful that she must be treated like a little one.

I was just moving towards the bed when I felt Charles put his left arm around my waist from behind, and take my bottom in his right hand. He said, "I would spank you again if it wouldn't wake up Chloe, but you definitely need another reminder before we put on your diaper."

I felt his fingers working up inside the valley between my cheeks, then the middle on touching me, pushing into me.

"Oh, please," I said, "Charles, please don't."

"You're a very naughty girl," he said. "Open up now."

I whimpered and opened to his finger.

"Look at your diaper," he murmured.

I looked. Diapers were for little girls, and for big girls who had been bad. Charles' finger moved in and out. The indignity was terrible.

"Sweetheart, why am I going to diaper you?"

"Because I didn't get the oil changed," I whispered.

"Do you think that the diaper will remind you to do that tomorrow?"

"Yes sir," I said.

"How long do I need to diaper you for, do you think?" he asked.

"Just a day, sir?"

"We can start there. Now bend all the way over and put your hands on the bed. Look at your diaper while I enjoy you. You're not going to come tonight. But if you get the oil changed tomorrow, I'll reward you tomorrow night."

Thus it was that the next morning, I diapered my daughter while wearing a diaper myself. It was lovely, and the oil got changed that day too.

(If you like these stories, try the Companion to EXPLORATIONS!)

(Caroline's Rocking Horse [Mf, ageplay, anal] and The Count's Discipline [medieval, spanking, anal] are available at Amazon!)

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