Mom, Me And Jamie

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Mom, Me And Jamie

Every time I hear about some male teenager who has a discipline problem I'm reminded of the summer I turned sixteen. Mom had agreed to take care of my 15 year old cousin, Jamie, while his parents toured Europe. He arrived a rude, boorish, male pig but he left a polite, delightful young man.

He was small and blonde, almost delicate in body structure. He had fine facial features which, even I guessed, would make him very attractive once puberty was over. I suppose his slight frame contributed to his rude behavior - he was trying to make up for not being a bigger male.

Anyway, he was a pain right from the start. The first flare up came after Mom fell into the toilet one night. Until Jamie arrived we had been an all-female household. There was just Mom and me, you see, so the toilet seats always stayed down. I guess we didn't bother to check any more.

I heard Mom scream, curse (a rarity for her) and then, a few minutes later, pound down the hall to Jamie's room where she woke him up and to scold him for being so inconsiderate. Imagine my shock when he told her to f--- off!

I remember pulling the sheets over my head. Mom didn't take back-talk lightly and the f-word was a big no-no. I waited for the explosion but it never came - at least not then.

Things were tense at breakfast but since it was a work and school day there wasn't much time to fret. Jamie and I caught the bus for school while Mom took the car to work. He was giving me a real hard time about the toilet seat thing and even announced to the bus that my Mom had "taken the plunge", making it sound as if it were all her fault for not looking where she was sitting.

When the bus dropped us off after school I was surprised to see Mom's car in the lane and a service van on the street. I thought something must have needed fixing. When we go through the front door the service man was just leaving. Mom thanked him for coming and then told me she wanted to see me in my room.

Normally that announcement spells trouble but this time I could tell she wasn't mad at me. She took me upstairs and explained that she had a solution for Jamie's toilet seat problem. One of the women at work had told her about it.

First, there was now a combination access lock on the bath room door. Only she and I were to know the combination. Second, Jamie would be spending his nights in diapers from now on.

I felt my jaw drop. Diapers! There was something wicked in that. It might be just the thing to shut that brat up! I skipped downstairs with sunshine in my heart. Mom had asked me not to say anything to Jamie before bed time. I had no trouble with that - boy was it going to be good!

Just before supper Jamie came wandering into the kitchen. "Where's my dinner?" he demanded and then, while picking at the cheese tray, asked stupidly, "What's with the metal box on the bathroom door? A reminder to watch where you're sitting?" Mom just smiled and said she would explain everything later.

As the night wore on I could barely contain myself. Jamie was playing right into Mom's hands by telling dirty jokes and raising last night's incident time and time again. I could tell Mom was getting more than a little steamed but she sure wasn't letting the brat know about it - not yet anyway.

Ten o'clock came and we all went upstairs. I used the bathroom and went to my room but left the door open so I could hear the excitement. Mom went after me and then I heard her pull the door closed behind her as she left. Then Jamie went down the hall.

"What the f---!" he yelled after pulling and tugging on the door for ages. "This f---ing door is locked!"

I heard him stomp down the hall to my mother's room. He opened the door and barged in (not smart, believe me). Mom must have been waiting for him but she let him make things worse by saying, "Open the f---'n bath room door, bitch!"

I just couldn't sit still after that. I ran to the door of my mother's room just in time to see her slap the brat's face and then grab his ear. As he screamed in pain she began to move toward the door, dragging him with her as she said in a deep growl, "It's time you learned some manners, young man. Your mouth has just written a check your body will have to cash. Want to know why the bath room's locked? It's because you can't seem to show any consideration at all for the women of this house."

By now they were in Jamie's room. "Want to see your bath room?" She used her free hand to open a drawer in his dresser, take out a thick, adult sized disposable diaper and toss it onto the bed. "Here. A diaper for you!"

She pulled his head up until their eyes were only inches apart. "Got the message, smart alec? You are going to wear diapers to bed every night and any other time we decide you are acting like a pig!"

I really didn't expect Jamie to put up with being diapered without a fight but Mom knew her stuff when it came to intimidation. He let her strip him and then he crawled onto the waiting diaper. It went on just like a Pampers and Mom had even found a pair of frosty plastic pants to put over it. She must have given his ear a real tug because he kept rubbing it and giving her a wounded look.

If I hadn't been mad at him myself I would have thought he looked adorable, sitting there looking for all the world like a very big toddler. Mom must have punched some buttons because all the cockiness had left him. He stared up at us mournfully, beaten.

Mom motioned for me to leave but she stopped in the door to his room and announced, "If that diaper has been removed or tampered with when I check it in the morning I'll lock a girdle over it and send you to school that way. Any questions?"

There were none, of course.

Mom and me retired to her room where we chortled and giggled like best friends. The more I thought of that brat sitting there in a diaper that he dare not remove the happier I felt.

Mom told me a friend of hers at work had devised this little treatment. Apparently you can get disposable diapers in any size these days and even the drug marts carry plastic panties. She showed me the long-line girdle she had ready just in case Jamie did tamper with his baby things. It had a sort of chain belt sewn into it so that it could be locked onto the wearer. The long legs, Mom explained, ensured that the boy couldn't get at his privates through the crotch.

Mom explained that her friend was more concerned with preventing masturbation than bathroom etiquette but the treatment was the same for both problems.

The next morning I went with Mom to Jamie's room to see if he had done anything to his diaper during the night. I was disappointed to see that he hadn't. On the good side, his diaper was soaked and he was anxious to get into the bath room so he could have a bowel movement. I filed that bit of inspiration away as I obediently went down the hall to open the door for him.

Mom kept Jamie in diapers for the next few nights. It had a very positive effect on his manners and vocabulary. She sure liked the results and began to put him in diapers earlier and earlier each night, using some slip of the tongue or perceived rudeness to announce that it was `diaper time for Jamie' and then march him upstairs to his room. Of course, it being so early, he had to come back down stairs if he wanted to watch TV and so I got to see him in just his diaper for hours at a time. He hated how I stared at him and so I just did it all the more.

Mom decided, and confided to me, that the effects of this diaper discipline might be improved if we made sure the diapers were used before Jamie went to bed for the night. From that night on, Mom made sure he had lots to drink before and during dinner. The first night he didn't clue in and rewarded us with a real show of squirming and pleading for release as he tried to avoid wetting his diaper but, of course, Mom wasn't buying. "You're in diapers for the night, remember? Just use them. It won't kill you."

He tried to leave the room but Mom ordered him to stay where he was. I'm sure his face was as red as a fire engine by the time we heard the tell-tale hissing sound. He spend the rest of the evening squirming for a different reason and I loved every second of it.

I was really getting into this idea of keeping Jamie in diapers. As the weekend approached I kept hoping he would get himself into more trouble so Mom could up the punishment a few notches. But Friday night and Saturday morning passed without incident.

I was going to a concert on Saturday night with a girl friend and her parents. It was a really fancy affair and I had planned on a really sexy formal dress, high heels, make- up, the whole works. Mom was really supportive. I guess she felt it was a pretty safe date, what with no boys in the picture.

We had done my hair, nails and make-up before we started looking for hosiery for me. It turns out each of us had assumed the other had a pair of black pantyhose but every pair we tried had runs in it. I began to get panicky. My ride was due in 20 minutes and the outfit just wouldn't look right without black hosiery. I could feel tears welling up in my eyes as I confronted Mom, "What are we going to do?"

She suddenly looked bashful, muttered, "Well, I guess you're old enough" and slipped out of the room. She came back a few minutes later with a garter belt and a brand new package of black stockings.

I had never seen either, outside of catalogues, and was thrilled. She showed me how to adjust the garter belt and we both were very careful as we handled the nylons. I looked at myself in the mirror, wearing only a black bra, panties and the garter-belt & stockings ensemble. I felt a real thrill! Everything felt so sexy and feminine!

Mom was watching me from her seat on the bed with a bemused expression on her face. "It's pretty powerful stuff, you know. A bit of fancy lingerie can turn most men into putty."

"Or pure your mouth." Jamie sneered from the door way.

Mom was off the bed and onto him in a flash. Her vice- like fingers found his tender ear and soon I was hearing sincere apologies. They were music to my ears and certainly restored the pleasant feelings.

She dragged him off down the hall toward his room, likely for a set of diapers if I knew Mom. It was only 4:45! I wondered if Mom would change him before bed or make him sleep in soaked diapers I sure hoped she'd make him suffer. I slipped on my dress and heels and then went to find out what had happened with the brat.

Mom was blocking my view from the door of his room as I arrived but as soon as she stepped back I almost broke out laughing. Jamie was wearing his diapers, all right, and the locking girdle (the first time I had seen it used) but Mom had also put a pair of flesh tone stockings on him, clipping the tops to the little garter tabs that hung down from the long legs of the girdle. She had also found a pair of old high heels for him to wear and so he teetered precariously.

She turned to face me and said sweetly, "I'm sure your evening will be all that much more pleasant, knowing that Jamie will be wearing this outfit for the rest of the night. In fact, he'll even sleep in it."

I had a wonderful night and after I got home I tip-toed into Jamie's room to see if Mom had kept her promise. Mom had left only the bottom sheet on the bed so I could see everything. Sure enough, he was still in his girdle, nylons and heels. He sensed me in the door. "What do you want?" he hissed angrily.

"Be careful," I teased, "or I'll tell Mom you swore at me."

"Just go. Leave me alone."

I went back to my room and just grinned.

Mom didn't use the nylons and heels very much more that summer but she sure enjoyed making Jamie wear diapers. School ended a week after my concert night and without it to control day time clothing, Mom seemed to find excuse after excuse to put Jamie in diapers. She even bought him shorts and jeans that were big enough to accommodate his diapers.

We became good friends with the friend of hers who had suggested the diapers and I got to do some interesting baby sitting for some very big and very bad babies but that's another story.