It’s really weird how something that traumatized me as a child later became the most enjoyable part of my life. You see, my mother had a thing for using diaper punishment to get me to toe the line. Throughout my childhood, if I got into trouble, she would put me back into diapers. It was very embarassing and I hated it so much, that I rarely got into trouble. Fear of diaper punishment and the related embarassment kept me in line.
Whenever I earned a diaper punishment, she refused to allow me any discretion or toilet priviledges. She insisted it wouldn’t be much of a punishment if she allowed me to hide or use the potty. Of course some punishments were worse than others…
On occasion, I would get a bad grade on a test or a note from the teacher saying I nodded off in class. For these typical indiscretions, I would usually just be diapered when I got home and my underwear returned by morning. Usually it was related to the day of the week, however. If I got a note from the teacher on a Friday, I would spend the entire weekend in diapers.
For more severe problems, diaper punishment alone wasn’t enough. A full return to babyhood was in order. During these punishments, not only was I put back into diapers, I also had to drink from a bottle, suck on a pacifier and let my mother feed me my food. She insisted that if I was going to act like an infant, then I would be treated like one.
As I grew older and the diaper punishments came farther and fewer between, I found myself craving them. Somehow being diaper punished had become a fetish. As an adult, I often hire professional mistresses to enforce some diaper punishment and treat me the bad little diaper boy that I am!