After a most unpleasant and humiliating spanking, Aunt Jennifer put my pacifier back in my mouth, patted my bum, and ordered me back into the car. I looked out the side mirror and saw her talking to the guy, whose name is Davy. After a few minutes, she ended the conversation and got in the car and drove us home.

The whole time, I was completely miserable. I was so ashamed, sitting in a mass of gooey waste. To add to that shame, I also found myself having to piss like a racehorse. I desperately tried to hold it in, but after a long ride and several demeaning remarks, I couldn’t anymore. So I flooded my diapers and was even more embarrassed than before. Aunt Jennifer looked at me through the rearview mirror and chuckled to herself.

When we arrived home, she made me carry everything inside one at a time so the neighbors could see me as often as possible. Jerks. When I got everything inside, my aunt told me to go to her room and lie on the changing pad, to which I complied. She looked at me with a smirk and slowly peeled off my plastic panties. After that, she took off one, two, three diapers. I was a complete mess. My whole diaper area was coated with shit, and she cleaned me in a most humiliating way. After swatting me several times for no apparent reason, she sprinkled baby powder over me and pinned three diapers around my wide hips. After that, she shook out some pink plastic panties and slid them over the thick white mass. She then dressed me in a ruffled white nightgown, cut short enough to see my diapers. After half-dragging me out of her room and placing me in the playpen, she gave me a bottle and ordered me to chug it. I tried to ignore the nasty taste of the tepid milk, but to no avail. It was disgusting. A few minutes after finishing it, I passed right out.

I woke up the next morning looking at someone I didn’t recognize. He was a skinny little thing, wearing jeans and a white shirt—oh wait! That was Bobby! I’d never seen him in anything but sissy attire. “Good morning, sleepyhead,” he said, trying to fake confidence. A few seconds later, I felt someone slipping her fingers through the leg hole of my plastic panties. Sure enough, it was Anne.

“Jen, she’s soaking wet. Want me to change her?”

“Hang on. Leah, baby?”

“What?” I said, grudgingly.

“Can you get the mail for us, please?” I looked at her in disbelief, but she was dead serious. When I didn’t respond right away, I felt Anne yanking me up by the nightgown, which was no easy task. Aunt Jennifer grabbed my by the ear and shoved me out the door. I was so humiliated. I ran as fast as I could, to the mailbox and back. There were just a few bills and a Sephora catalogue for Jennifer. I returned and handed the mail to my aunt. “Get your diapered ass in my room so I can change you.”

I resented the unnecessary hostility, but I don’t think that mattered. She changed me like she had before, making it unbearably humiliating. After pinning a few diapers on me and fitting nursery print plastic panties snugly over them, she went to her closet and brought back a short pink dress and some babyish white knee socks. I meekly complied since I didn’t want to be spanked again. She zipped the dress and put the socks on me, followed by the Mary Janes from yesterday. She then tied my hair into high pigtails and tied matching pink ribbon around them. After leading me to the mirror and taunting me mercilessly, she dragged me into the living room and made me sit on the floor. When I did, she carefully lifted back the hem of my dress, as if my diapers weren’t already exposed enough.

“Okay, baby girl. The reason you’re sitting here is to get the lowdown. We’re going to tell you all about your punishment. Want to start, Anne?”

“As you know, we are extremely disappointed in you. We thought you could be trusted, but you’ve made it painfully obvious that you are immature and irresponsible,” she said, while holding up something I at first didn’t recognize. (After looking at it a little closer, I realized that they were my panties I had worn to bed one night while Aunt Jennifer and Anne were away—and they were still damp with urine from when I wet myself.) She went on. “We found these in your bag. Why didn’t you tell us you were a bedwetter? We never would’ve left you alone.” Aunt Jennifer nodded in agreement.

“Leah, from now on, things will be very different. As you can see, Bobby will no longer be a sissy. We’re going to re-potty-train him, which is why I bought the Pull-ups last night. You will take his place. You are going to wear thick diapers all the time since you certainly can’t be trusted without them. You will be treated like the baby girl you are—this includes absolutely no privacy of any kind. I will take you out in public whenever I please, dress you in whatever I please, feed you whatever I please, and change you whenever and however I please. Your bedtime will be 7:30 every night, unless of course you’re cranky—then I’ll send you to bed whenever I see fit. If you behave badly or disobey me, I have various methods of punishing you. You’ll be spanked, sometimes bare-bottomed, sometimes diapered. If you start crying, I will give you a pacifier. If you try to take it out, I will tie it around your bratty little head. You cannot watch TV by yourself, and you will watch only baby shows like Barney and Sesame Street. I will give you suppositories and diuretics constantly until you have no control left. I won’t give you enemas like I did Bobby. You’re right. Enemas are more work than the occasional messy diaper, and I find those to be much more humiliating than just wet ones. This will go on for at least a year. Any infractions will result in my adding another day onto your punishment. At the rate you’re going right now, you will be in diapers for the rest of your life.” I couldn’t take it any more and burst into tears. My aunt then put a pacifier in my mouth, and we heard a knock at the door.

A man in a UPS uniform stood on the front porch. “Leah, sweetie, answer the door.” I did, and the guy started laughing. He asked me to sign for a few packages. I signed it, and he left, still chuckling to himself. Anne ordered me to bring in the three big boxes that sat on the front porch.

After they were all in, the two women opened them. They pulled out the most babyish clothes I’d ever seen in my life. There were onesies, rompers, party dresses, all of which were designed to show my diapers as much as possible. I spat my pacifier out and said, “I’m not wearing any of this shit!” My aunt and Anne looked at me, infuriated. They went to Jennifer’s room and returned with a pink ribbon and the paddle. Anne tied the pacifier around me so I had no choice but to keep it in. They then threw me over Jennifer’s knee and to my surprise, invited Bobby to spank me. He was delighted. They decided to keep my diapers on since they were just put on me, and the former sissy started swinging away as hard as he could. Although one would think the thick padding around my ass would absorb the blows, it didn’t. It still hurt, and I still cried. During the spanking, I lost control of my bladder and started slowly wetting my diapers. When the spanking was done, my aunt cradled me on her lap in an embarrassing way, gently rubbing my diapers and encouraging me to keep peeing. “Let it out, baby girl. Babies like you have no control. That’s what diapers are for.”