My girlfriend shouldn’t have needed to be spanked at 20, but here we were. She was failing out of the community college and barely holding down a job as a cook at a fast food restaurant. So for every bad grade I had taken to making her take off her pants and panties, get over my lap on the edge of the bed, and turning her red with my hand and sometimes a hairbrush.

She called me a monster the first time, said that if I was going to beat her she might as well be dating a man instead of me. That hurt. That night I made her squirt with my strap-on and then again with my mouth, to remind her that there were certain advantages to being with an older, more experienced woman who knew and loved women’s bodies in a way a man never could.

By now she took her punishments much less scornfully, and usually cried, apologized thoroughly and even sometimes asked to make it up to me with oral sex afterwards. Sometimes I let her, what my first girlfriend called “pussy worship” style with me seated and her on her knees in front of me, but I didn’t want her to associate punishment too closely with sex.

But her grades continued to slip. I decided she needed to be taught a lesson in submitting to me more completely.

The first day back after fall break, before leaving to teach my class, I picked out an outfit for her, a short dress, modest cotton panties, dark hose and smart little shoes. She hadn’t dressed nicely for class in the entire time I’d known her, so I decided that changed now. She was going to act like a model college student, dress like one and manage her affairs like one.

I made her give me her debit cards and I gave her a modest amount of cash.

She complained and complained, so I bent her over, pulled down her panties and swatted her a couple times with a ruler. “Want to do any more complaining? You get your cards back when you bring me some A’s.”

“Ugh… yes, Cyndi.”

“What did you call me last night?”

She turned bright red. “….mommy.”

“Until you show me don’t need to be mothered, that’s what you’re going to call me, little brat. Am I clear?”

She stammered and visibly got weak in the knees. “Yes, mommy.”

I watched with, admittedly, a bit of a wet spot as she sullenly pulled on the hose that she had previously only worn to her sister’s wedding. When she was done awkwardly getting it up over her panties I pulled up the back of her dress and adjusted the top in the back, then gave it a light snap.

“And don’t think you’re done hearing about the lip you just gave me. When you get home I will expect you to wait for me fully undressed in the bedroom with the wooden spoon. No computer in the meantime.”

In the tiniest, most pathetic voice, she said “yes, mommy.”

I clipped on her earrings for her and kissed her on the lips before leaving.

I took my time getting home. I went to a consignment store and picked up a few more dresses in her size, and then made a long, contemplative stop at the drug store.

When I got back, there she was, as ordered. Lacey was an adorable, petite and young-looking woman, not thick but with a pleasant spread at the ass, nothing much in the way of breasts, and an adorable face with an button nose and a pixie cut that almost made her look straight. She was sitting on the bed, naked, with the ruler next to her. I sat down next to her.

“Alright, little brat, new position. Straddle my lap and touch the floor. I won’t let you fall.”

She started to protest but I cut her off. “You’re just making it worse for yourself. Say yes, mommy.”

She was turning red again. “Yes, mommy.”

She awkwardly kneeled over my lap with her knees on either side of my thighs. Then gingerly she shifted forwards and reached for the floor as I grabbed her calves and pulled them backwards to force her legs to spread wide around me, until she was supporting herself on her hands at a downward angle with her ass spread right in my lap, her legs on either side of me.

I gave her a few swats with the ruler. Then I dug my fingernails into her asscheeks where they were just starting to be red and heard her squeal involuntarily at the very top of her range.

“You don’t respect me, you don’t respect yourself. What am I going to do with you, Lacey?”

“I don’t know, Cyndi.” She moaned from the pain.

I gave her six hard swats of the ruler in quick succession for that.

“Sorry, mommy,” she said, trying to be cute about it but clearly very embarrassed.

“And this asshole,” I said, spreading her cheeks to see a perfectly clean, normal anus. “It’s filthy. I’m going to start inspecting your asshole every day to make sure you’re wiping properly.”

“It’s not!”

I spanked her some more for that.

“I’m sorry, mommy. I’ll wipe better.”

The next day I put my plan into action. As soon as she got home, dressed very nicely in one of her new dresses, I called her into the bathroom.

“Inspection time,” I said. “No, not just your ass, your hygiene as a whole is very questionable. Strip down to your underwear.”

I watched with great interest as she took off the dress, her shoes and the pantyhose and was left standing there in cotton panties and an underwire.

“Hands.”

She raised an eyebrow but held out her hands.

“You have dirt on your hands, you need to wash them better. Arms up.”

When she had raised her arms, I sniffed her armpits, noticing not for the first time the undeniably sexy little tufts of pit hair. “Well, you remembered deodorant, for once.” I grabbed her bra and pulled it off over her head. I inspected under her breasts, as if looking for contraband, then got down and pulled down her panties and left them around her ankles.

First I spread her labia a little, saw that she had a tampon in, and on a whim I said “change that. Now.” I watched while she did, still with the clumsy technique of a much younger woman.

Then I approached her from behind, bent her forward with a thrust of my hand on her upper back, and spread her cheeks. Once again, clean enough, but I had a plan to make her completely submissive to me.

“Filthy. Stand up.”

She sighed. “Yes, mommy.”

“If you can’t get clean, little slut, I’m going to have to teach you how.”

I turned her around, marched her into the bath tub and then started undressing myself.

I stepped into the tub, unclipped her earrings and threw them to the sink, then handed her a rag. “I’m going to wash your ass like you’re a toddler, because apparently a little wiping is beyond you. While I’m doing that I want you to get that wet and take off all your makeup. You’re not going out tonight.”

I think she started to cry. I pulled the curtain, got the water warm and then turned on the shower.

I took a bar of soap and lathered it up against her asscheeks, then worked the lather into her crack quite firmly, running two fingers up and down against her asshole. She was, I think, weeping, as she took the makeup off her face with the wet rag. I steered her ass towards the showerhead and told her to spread her cheeks with both hands to rinse off.

Then, aware that she preferred not to wash her hair more than once a week, I took my brand of shampoo, which was menthol scented and medicated for dandruff, and lathered up my hands with it, then said “tilt your head back.” I worked the lather into her scalp vigorously, then pulled the shower head attachment down and, covering her eyes with my hands, rinsed out her hair.

I abruptly shut the water off. She looked sad, boyish and small, standing there drenched with all her makeup gone. I toweled her off as one would do an animal, first covering her head like a hood and rubbing it over her hair, then down around her shoulders, breasts and on down, up between her cheeks and against her cunt, asking no permission but taking no undue liberties. In everything I was gentle, but always firm at the same time.

“I want you to try and use the toilet, then join me in the bedroom with a dry towel. Take the tampon out, you won’t need it.”

She was confused, but said “yes, mommy,” all the same.

In the bedroom I got an adult diaper out of the pack in my shopping bags, a McMahon brand size small quilted adult brief. I unfolded it and laid it on the bed. Then I got out the zinc cream and wet wipes.

She came in holding a folded towel, with some trepidation.

“Because you don’t like to wipe, I’m going to have to start doing it for you until you prove to me that you can. You’re going back in diapers for the weekend, and if you’re on very good behavior I may only make you wear them to class on Monday, not all week.”

“But!”

“No buts. What do we say?”

She groaned. “Yes, mommy.” She was turning very red. The idea of having a diaper under a very short dress in front of her friends and peers was starting to occur to her.

“Lay down the towel and then get on it with your legs in the air.”

I wiped away some blood from her cunnie, not much, then with a fresh wipe I started firmly wiping and re-wiping her entire crack.

“Ow, ow!”

“Quiet, baby, or I can make it worse.”

Then I got the zinc cream. I laid it on very thick directly to her anus, then spread it on up her taint and onto the first few inches of her inner thighs, then at last on either side of her labia, adding a few more dabs from the tube.

I looked up and she was covering her flushed face with her hands and crying.

“There, there, baby. In a minute I’m going to give you a special treat. And if you’re very good I’ll do it every night while you’re all pampered up like this.”

There was an unintelligible half-spoken, half-sobbed sound from beneath her hands.

I slipped the diaper under her waiting ass, closed it, and began taping it as tightly as I could make it.

I let her lie there quietly sobbing for a minute, then I told her gently to stand up and come join me at the couch when she was ready.

When she came out, still with the zub-zubs, I had the magic wand all plugged in, and had put on panties and leggings, but nothing else.

“Lay down and put your head in my lap.”

She did so without saying anything, sniffling quite a bit.

When she had, I started the vibrator and started gently and then firmly running it up and down the front of the diaper. “You can suck my tits if you want, baby. Just relax and let things happen.”

After a few minutes, in which she started to moan, she reached up and guided my left breast to her lips and started sucking sweetly on my nipple. I moaned just a little and started making little circles with the vibrator where her clit should be. She moaned into my breast and I pressed down a little harder. She moaned harder and harder until with a gesture she told me that she was done. I saw that the blue line on the front of the diaper had turned to yellow.

I let her keep play-nursing for an hour, with the TV playing low. Then she fell asleep, head still on my wide thighs, and reaching for her backpack, which was on the end table, I began going through her homework, thinking how I could help her with it. I neglected my grading all that weekend.