Randy got home to find his mum on the phone.

"I was wondering what was keeping him," she was saying as Randy entered the kitchen. "What happened? ... Oh dear! Not that Ralph kid again! ... I think I have an idea that might cure him. ...Ah! Here’s Randy now! Thank you for phoning, Mr. Goldman."

The first thing Grace noticed as she turned from the phone was that Randy’s diaper was sagging heavily. "Didn’t you change after PE?" she asked.

"Never had a chance," Randy answered. "Ralph hogged the wheelchair-accessible cubicle till it was too late. Then he pulled my pants down before I could leave."

"Yes. Mr. Goldman was just telling me," Grace said. "How cruel can kids get?"

"One of his friends even wrote something on my plastic pants," Randy added, dropping his pants to show her.

Grace read the sentence and turned white with shock and anger. In large letters was written "spank the rude baby."

"Go get changed," Grace said, "and we’ll talk this over. Daddy should be home soon too."

Randy changed, saving the plastic pants bearing the message. By the time he came back downstairs, Shane had come home.

"What’s happened, love?" he asked his wife. "You look ready to kill."

Grace and Randy filled him in. Randy handed over the plastics with the message.

"What’s Ralph’s last name?" Grace inquired.

"Brinckman," Randy answered promptly.

"I know that family," Shane said, "His dad’s a rich lawyer, and his mum’s part owner of a training stable. I’ve treated some of the horses there. Mr. Brinckman’s spoiled Ralph rotten."

"Is that why he’s being so mean?" Randy wondered.

"I don’t know," Shane admitted. "But it might explain his lack of respect for men and boys. His mum’s the disciplinarian of the family."

"How could people like that get married?" Randy asked in amazement.

"Don’t ask me," Shane laughed, "but if anyone deserves a spanking, it’s Ralph."

"I wish I could talk to his mum," Grace muttered as she began making dinner.

The next morning, Randy was astonished to learn that not only had his mum contacted Mrs. Brinckman, but she’d invited her and Ralph over for drinks on Friday.

"I don’t want to see him!" Randy snarled. "He’s a jerk!"

"I know how you feel," Grace said, "but you get to help teach him his lesson."

"What do you mean?" Randy asked.

"You’ll see," Grace said mysteriously.

Ralph remained sulky and bad-tempered for the rest of the week. Despite his revulsion, Randy pretended to forgive him and invited him over Friday after school, saying he’d teach him some things that might make him better at Dodge-Ball. So it was that when Friday afternoon came, Ralph was waiting eagerly at the main door for his mum. Randy, of course, had gone on home to help his mum prepare for their company.

Barry Hiller, who was in on the secret, arrived at 4-15; having come straight from work. Grace had told him everything when she dropped by the store to get supplies for work. The Brinckmans showed up soon after. Grace greeted them warmly, then everyone settled around the living room.

"So, tell me," Grace said, going straight to the point, "what’s your reason for treating my son as you did?"

Ralph jumped. He hadn’t expected this.

"It--it–w-w-was only a joke," he faltered.

"Liar!" Randy snapped. "You just wanted to see my diapers!"

"Diapers?" Mrs. Brinckman asked. "Oh yes! I remember now. And what have I told you about teasing?" she added sternly.

Silence.

"Very well," Mrs. Brinckman decided. "Then it’s time to start the lesson."

"What lesson? Ralph asked, suddenly fearful.

"The one Mr. Goldman spoke of," His mother answered.

Before Ralph could say another word, a heavy bandage was dropped over his eyes and bound securely round his head, completely blindfolding him. The next thing he knew, he was being marched upstairs, held tightly by both arms. At the top, Grace released him just long enough to fetch something from the linen cupboard.

"Hey!" Ralph protested, plucking at the blindfold.

"Don’t touch!" Grace scolded, rapping his hand.

They took him in to Randy’s room.

"Off with your pants and underwear!" Mrs. Brinckman commanded.

"Not here!" Ralph gasped.

"Get them off!" Grace ordered. "Now!"

Ralph made no move. Grace glanced over her shoulder at Randy who’d followed them in to the room. Quick as a flash, Randy stepped forward, yank down Ralph’s pants and jumped back to his place by the door.

"This isn’t fair!" Ralph whined.

"Oh yes it is!" Mrs. Brinckman said unsympathetically. "Now lie down!"

As soon as Ralph was down, Randy snatched up the two night diapers that lay on his bed and handed them to Grace along with a tin of baby powder. At the same time, Mrs. Brinckman pulled off Ralph pants and underwear.

"Give back my pants!" Ralph shouted, thinking it was Randy who’d taken them off.

"Babies don’t wear pants," Grace cooed. "They wear diapers."

"I’m not a baby!" Ralph screamed, "and I’m not wearing –!"

Mrs. Brinckman cut that short with a sharp smack on his thigh.

"Be quiet!" she snapped. "Anyone who thinks it’s funny to undress people in public can’t call himself mature! I’m surprised Mr. Goldman didn’t spank you himself!"

Grace gave Ralph a liberal sprinkling of baby powder. Seconds later, Randy had him in the diapers. He was wondering how his plastic pants would fit over the mass when Grace pulled a new pair from her pocket.

"Put these on," she said.

Shaking them out, Randy saw that they were made of a much tougher material than his own, and had a light chain threaded through the waist instead of elastic. "Which way to they go?" he asked.

Grace and Mrs. Brinckman traded places, and Grace got the pants on Ralph. Then she pulled him roughly to his feet, fastened the lock at the back, and removed the blindfold.

When Ralph saw his reflexion in the mirror, he went white.

"What have you done?!" he cried.

"Given you what you deserve," said his mother, "but this is just the beginning. Now come downstairs."

"I can’t walk in these!" Ralph protested.

They went downstairs, Ralph reduced to an awkward sort of waddle by the thick diapers. Barry was waiting in the living room. He took one look at Ralph and doubled over with laughter.

"Who’s the baby now?" he asked in a mocking voice.

Mrs. Brinckman made Ralph sit beside her while Grace went to get drinks. She put Ralph share in to a large water bottle to which she added a tasteless diuretic. As she returned to the living room, Shane and Randy came in.

Grace poured glasses for everyone else, then handed the bottle to Ralph.

"I can’t drink all this!" he protested, for there was about half a liter in the bottle.

"I’ve seen you drink more than that at the ball park," Mrs. Brinckman reminded him. "Now drink up."

At this point, Shane raised the camera he’d hidden behind his back. "On your feet!" he ordered.

"Noooooooo!" Ralph wailed, nearly dropping the bottle. "Not pictures!"

He tried to hide the diapers, but they were far too thick.

"Up!" Grace barked.

Defeated, Ralph struggled to his feet and shuffled to the center of the room.

"Smile," Mrs. Brinckman cooed from behind him.

Snap! Shane got a clear shot of him standing there, bottle in hand, legs forced apart by the diapers. Stepping up behind him, Randy raised his arm, bringing the bottle to his lips. Snap! Another clear shot.

"Can I go now?" Ralph whined, "I need to pee."

"What do you think diapers are for, stupid?" Randy asked.

Mrs. Brinckman sat Ralph down, and Grace held the bottle to his mouth. Ralph drank as fast as he could, desperate to get this over with.

"Good boy," Grace cooed. "Now you can have some more."

"I’ll burst!" Ralph gasped, "I’m –"

His words were drowned by a loud belch.

"I see you don’t need help with burping, Sonny boy," chuckled Barry. He’d been watching from the far side of the room, shaking with silent laughter.

At that instant, Ralph’s bladder let go. It seemed as if the flow would never stop. When it finally did, he turned imploringly to his mother.

"You’ll stay in that diaper until bedtime," Mrs. Brinckman told him.

"And if you don’t leave me alone," Randy put in, "I’ll show Dad’s pictures to all your friends."

"Nooooooo!" Ralph screamed.

"Yes!" Randy promised, "and I mean it!"

The Brinckmans stayed until Ralph had finished his second huge drink. When it came time to go, he was dismayed to find that his mum only gave him his shoes.

"Where are my pants?" he asked.

"You’ll go home as you are," Mrs. Brinckman answered.

"I can’t go outside like this!" Ralph sobbed, now crimson from the neck up. "What if someone sees me?"

"Should have thought of that before you undressed Randy," Grace said coldly.

Reluctantly, Ralf followed his mum out. He’d wet his diaper again and it was beginning to droop, making him waddle more than ever.

"Remember what I said!" Randy called as they drove away.

Grace invited Barry to stay for dinner.

"That’d be great," he said cheerfully. "What are we having?"

"Spaghetti with chicken sauce," Grace replied, smiling. "It’s a family favourite."

"Yum!" Barry said, licking his lips. "I’ve always loved pasta!"

The dinner was a merry one, made better by the fact that Shane had no late calls that evening and could enjoy everything.

"Where did you get the idea to diaper Ralph up like that?" Barry asked.

"You," Grace answered simply.

"Me?" Barry asked, puzzled. "How so?"

"Don’t you remember?" Shane said, "You said it’d be easy to get back at those who teased Randy about his diapers."

Barry’s face lit up. "Oh yeah! I’d forgotten!"

"Where did you get the idea in the first place?" asked Randy.

"From a story I read off the net," Barry explained. "There are several sites offering stories of all sorts. Diaper discipline is fairly common."

"I never thought we’d have to use it," Shane admitted, "but I see the sense behind it now. You should have seen Ralph’s face as he left. He was beet-red."

"What about Ralph’s friends?" Barry asked, turning to Randy. "Are you going to diaper them too?"

It was Grace who answered. "I don’t know if I’ll be doing that, but if necessary, I’ll pass the idea on to their parents."

"Two of them are girls, though," Randy said. "They’d be harder to do."

"I don’t see why," Shane answered. "The embarrassment would probably be even deeper since it’d be harder for them to hide the fact. Besides, I’m sure they’d smarten up if they saw the pictures. The threat would be enough."

That set everyone laughing.

Dessert was home-made gingerbread.

"I won’t need any snacks tonight," Barry remarked. "I’m stuffed. You’re an excellent cook, Grace."

"Thank you," Grace answered. "I don’t get much time to devote to it, being a nurse. I’m glad I don’t work the night shift anymore."

"Did you?" Barry asked.

"I used to," Grace said, "but after Shane and I got married, I renegotiated my contract and asked to do only day shifts. Nights pay more, but they’re just too tiring for me. Oddly enough, since Randy was born, I’ve only done mornings or mid-days; and I haven’t worked weekends at all."

"How did that happen?" asked Barry.

"You could call it a gift from my boss," Grace laughed. "She’s one of those rare folks who believes that a mother should be allowed time with her kids."

"Where’s the washroom?" Barry asked suddenly. "All that punch has burst the dam!"

Laughing at his words, Shane pointed Barry to the washroom. As he rose, it was plain that he was in need of a change. His diaper was sagging heavily, despite his tight shorts. When he returned, he gave Grace an apologetic look.

"I don’t lose track of my diapers like that very often," he said. "I only hope I didn’t leak."

Grace glanced at his chair and shook her head.

"Thank goodness!" Barry said, relieved. "I leaked at Mum’s place once. It was on Mother’s day, and she told me off in front of everyone! I was wearing a disposable diaper that day, and I’ve never worn one since; not even to work."

Grace reached for the plastic bag containing the used diaper. "Why don’t I wash that for you?" she offered. "I’ll put it in with Randy’s tonight, and drop it off for you Monday afternoon. I pass your store on the way to work."

Barry hesitated, but accepted in the end.

"Guess I’d better head home," he remarked, looking at his watch. "It’s getting late."

Shane glanced out the window. It had started to rain heavily and the roads looked treacherous.

"How far do you have to go?" he asked.

"I live across town," Barry answered, "not far from the store."

"You’ll never get there in this downpour," Shane said, "Let me give you a lift. Your bike will fit in the back of the station wagon."

"Thank you so much!" Barry said gratefully, "and thanks again for dinner, Grace."