Opening the door, Miss Diane Cochrane saw a young man standing below her on the steps of her B&B. She noted with surprise that he was dressed quite smartly for his age, and the period.

‘Er, hello,’ he said. ‘I was wondering if I could rent a room here? For the month?’ His voice sounded a little nervous, and she internally smiled as she saw him take in the person he had elected as his landlady: Diane was a woman in her mid-fifties, dressed in grey tweed skirt suits that were cut in the fashion of the 1950s, some thirty years passed. Her skirt and the top strained over her rather stout and therefore imposing figure, and exceptionally wide hips that threatened to flatter a small male should she wish to. Beneath her clothes was flesh coloured hosiery that gave her an old fashioned and matriarchal aura, as did her functional, well-worn black brogues. She knew exactly how she appeared to young males – and it was not an accident.

‘You are on holiday, here, all that time?’ she asked him.

‘Yes, from my college in London. I just fancied spending the summer here instead of in London. My name is David and I…’

‘Age?’

‘Er, I’m twenty two, but-’

‘Are you quiet, and clean?’ She delivered the questions, particularly the last one, in a stern manner.

‘Er… yes.’

‘Very well. Come in.’

Diane stood back and let him pass her and enter the hall.

‘Right, she began. ‘My name is Miss Cochrane. I take in guests only when I wish to. Therefore I am very fussy about who stays here. I prefer no guests to the wrong guests. I have strict rules: No visitors in the rooms. The house bedtime is 10pm. Beds should be turned back for at least an hour in the morning, to air with the window open. Breakfast is at 7.30am to 8am. No loud noise. My wishes and word, on any subject, is final and to be respected. Failure to follow them will result in a request to leave. A breach is an indication of intent to ignore my wishes and such people have no place in my home.’

David appeared taken aback by her fierce and uncompromising manner. ‘It seems a shame not to give guests a second chance, don’t you think?’ he said.

Diane, who was in the process of leading David to the foot of the stairs, stopped and looked at him for a long time, before making a ‘Hmmm,’ sound and continuing up the stairs. David followed; suddenly conscious of her enormous bottom, symbolic it felt, of the powerful female presence before him.

Arriving on the next level, she led him to a room with a lovely large bay window, but simple furnishings. A single bed with an iron bar headboard and footboard, like a school or hospital bed lay against the middle of the wall with two night tables on either side. To the side was a large wooden wardrobe and beside that a sturdy chest of drawers. In the window bay was a straight backed chair and a small table.

‘Wash day is Monday; make sure you bring anything you want washed down on Sunday night.’

‘Thank you. Thanks very much!’

Diane smiled. The first time she had. ‘Good. I like good manners.’ She smiled again and this time David did too.

‘Thank you. I… er… I realise that you have been very generous to take me in. I hope to not let you regret that.’

Diane smiled again, and this time shook his hand too. ‘Good boy,’ she said. ‘Yes, I think I will enjoy having you to stay.’


The next few days passed pleasantly and David enjoyed the peaceful atmosphere of Miss Cochrane’s home. Snippets of conversation at breakfast led Miss Cochrane to learn that David had been raised by his elderly aunt (after his parents’ early death) until her own death some four years before, and that since fifteen, he had been a ward of social services, giving him little in the way of family love and affection, but at least access to a college education. ‘I like living in London,’ he had told her. ‘But as I had the whole summer, I wanted to get away.’  In return, he had learned that she had a good pension and let rooms purely if she wanted to. She also proved to be friendlier than he’d first thought, and if she was in, and cooking, she offered him the option to join her for a reasonable donation. In this way, the two of them grew to know each other well enough for her to sometimes come to the door of his room to wish him good night.

It was this familiarity that led to David’s downfall.

Like many young males, David masturbated regularly. It was in the middle of one such occasion when Miss Cochrane appeared at his door one night and caught him literally red handed. David was mortified with embarrassment, but the look of anger on the landlady’s face terrified him even more. She marched to his bed and threw back the covers, revealing and completing David’s humiliation.

‘I was a Matron in a boarding school for many years, and dealt with lots of little boys – and by that I mean even the ones not much younger than you – who could not keep their hands to themselves. If there is one thing I will not allow, it is self-abuse. It is a dirty and disgusting thing! You ought to be ashamed of yourself, doing that at all. Let alone in my house and one of my beds.’

As she scolded him, David was overwhelmed by both her words and her physical presence. She stood close to his side and as he lay looking up at her in fear, her thick thighs only inches from him, and her bosom heaving with indignation and fury – she looked as if she could break him like a twig. Yet his adult brain and hormones found her enormously attractive: he had always been drawn to powerful, dominant women, and now that he was this close to her and so exposed, deep feelings of desire rose in him. So much so that far from his erection dying away, it remained just as strong. Something that Diane Cochrane, to her surprise, noticed.

‘Oh David! What a naughty boy you are. A naughty, dirty little boy. Well. I do not want you making those sheets dirty. Wait here exactly as you are! Do not move an inch!’

She left the room again and was gone for a good five minutes. Long enough for David’s erection to die away; though he stayed as he had been, lying back on the bed, with the covers still pulled down. When Miss Cochrane returned she had gone through the second half of her transformation. Not only was David faced with an angry formidable woman, he was now also lying semi naked before a fully kitted out school Matron. She was wearing a dark blue Matron’s uniform with a white rubber apron. Moreover, in her hands, she carried a pair of plastic pants. ‘You will wear a pair of these under your pyjamas. They will protect my bed clothes from any… emissions. Understood!’

David stared at the pants. They were clear, basically transparent. His face burned at the thought of wearing them. But his penis also started to stir again.

‘I remember,’ the Matron went on, ‘that on the day you arrived, you said you hoped that if you broke a rule, someone would give you guidance rather than reject you. Do you remember?’

David nodded.

‘Well, in my role as Matron, my job was often to steer young boys that needed guidance. And I assure you, I am very good at dissuading this particular dirty little habit. I am going to punish you.’

‘P… punish, Miss Cochrane?’

‘Yes David. Punish. A good sound spanking. You deserve to be bent over my lap, and spanked soundly on your bottom, and that is what is going to happen. Masturbation is very naughty and some sound corporal punishment is more than appropriate. And,’ she added, ‘there’s no time like the present. So, up and out of bed!’ She took David firmly by the ear as he stood up, leading him around the bed and to the straight backed chair that stood in the bay window of the room.

She sat down on the chair, her ample bottom and thighs spreading out to form a wide, soft lap – ready to receive him.  ‘Hands on head, David,’ she commanded. ‘First we need to get you in your plastic pants. I don’t want you making a mess of my skirt.’

David, his face crimson, obeyed and Diane pulled down his pyjamas and lifted his legs out of them before guiding them into first one and them both of the leg holes of the plastic pants. They were then drawn slowly up his legs and thighs and over his bottom and penis.

‘Now, tonight you are to be spanked soundly on the seat of these pants. All naughty boys need spanking and as we have just seen, you are most definitely a very naughty boy.’ As she spoke, it was not lost on Diane that regardless of the embarrassed and worried look on David’s face, his penis was starting to press out from inside the plastic pants. As an experience school Matron she had seen this happen many times and had learnt to deliver her pre-spanking lectures to maximise this reaction, thus adding embarrassment to the boy in question, and David’s face was full of mortification and humiliation – exactly as Diane liked it. She knew he would become erect; she expected it but she never ever allowed a boy to know that. As far as he would be aware, she would always be extremely cross when it happened.

However, she chose not to notice, yet.

‘Masturbation,’ the lecture continued, ‘is totally unacceptable. It must be punished; it must be punished very very severely and-.’

Diane had abruptly stopped. She was staring at the now fully protruding front of David’s loose fitting plastic pants, her face one of horror and shock.

‘Do my eyes deceive me?! Can it possibly be?’

David’s penis now stuck out at full erection, straight towards Diane’s face. David whimpered in excruciating embarrassment and his hands flew down to cover his face.

‘I’m so sorry!’ he mumbled.

Diane allowed his hands to remain over his eyes – partly because her own feelings were hard for her to hide. ‘David!’ she said in mock disgust. ‘Am I to understand that you find this matter… to your liking?’

David shook his head and muffled words escaped his hands covered face. ‘No Miss Cochrane, please, I don’t. I… I just can’t help it.’

‘Can you not? Well, I most certainly can. My heavens boy, you are going to get a very severe spanking tonight. I shall make your backside pay dearly for this display.’ And with that she stood up and grabbed his penis through the plastic, scrunching it around his member tightly, and began to drag him to the bathroom. David had to keep up, Diane’s hard grip around his penis made it impossible not to, so yelping and with his hands flailing he was pulled along behind her. She dragged him to the bathroom, where from a cupboard drawer she retrieved a long handled, very heavy looking wooden bath brush. Its wide head formed a large round circle. David’s eyes were agape as he stared at it – there was no doubt of her intention and of what effect it would have on his bottom.

‘Your rudeness deserves extra severity,’ she told him. ‘So it will be the bath brush from the word go. Hard spanks that will make you howl my boy! Howl like a banshee.’ And then she dragged him back. The brush in one hand; his penis in the other.

Once back, Diane sat down and opened her legs and pulled David over her left knee, her right leg clamping against the back of his thighs, and pushing his still hard penis tight against the soft inside of her thigh. His head went far down, so that his bottom stuck up high and vulnerable.

Right hand behind your back!’ she commanded. David obeyed and found it immediately grasped by Diane’s left hand, which she also used to rather expertly pull up the waist of the plastic pants so that they were tight over his bottom. ‘In this position, David, your bottom is bent tight – presented properly for a sound spanking. You may think the pants will give you some protection, but you are about to find out that when a boy’s bottom is contained in something that stretches tight across his skin, it makes the punishment harder. It forces the buttocks to take the full impact without displacement. In other words, this spanking is going to hurt so much you will find it impossible not to struggle frantically. But, held firmly in place, you will have no choice but to take it and they will, I warn you, be full force from the very first one. You have a good twenty minutes across my lap to look forward to. Twenty minutes of very painful spanking that will make sure you go to bed with a very sore, swollen bottom and no wish to touch your dirty little penis again. Do you understand?’

From near the floor, Diane heard David’s nervous whisper that he did.

‘And…’ Diane added, her voice now very fierce, ‘do you agree that you deserve this?’

Again the muffled voice said he did.

Diane paused. The experience was a new for her as it was for David and she felt a mixture of emotions. The scared little shudder in his obedient and surrendered voice, combined with the incongruous feel of his still hard penis against her thigh – to say nothing of the plastic covered buttocks before her – all caused her body to respond with curiosity, surprise and pleasure. Her eyes closed in reaction to sensations that were affecting her more and more as the scenario played out. So much so that she had to make an effort to gather herself quickly, which she did by grasping his wrist extra firmly and resting the head of the brush across his waiting bottom. When she was ready, she cleared her throat and said very sternly, ‘You are to be spanked hard, David. You will not escape your punishment.’ And with that Diane began.

She started with ten full force whacks that made David’s legs and back immediately strain against her grip. His lungs opened too, and he howled out a series of agony filled cries. Diane was unmoved.

The first ten were to set the tone, to get his mind ready – and the short break that followed them was merely to allow him time to gather himself from the panic of how hard the spanking had been, to let his body know what to expect, before it began again in earnest.

Now, a steady stream of spanks fell at a rate of about two per second. David wriggled vainly against her grip and yelled out in a continuous stream, but Diane’s face showed her determination – and pleasure. In fact, she was soon smiling. Her spanking fitness had not deserted her, and though she breathed hard and her bosoms strained against the jacket of her suit, she nonetheless was feeling comfortable and at home.

The minutes ticked by, perhaps a little too fast for Diane, but much too slow for the boy across her lap. He yelled, he begged, he pleaded, but the hard and steady spanks could not be avoided or stopped. If anything, his attempts to stop the spanking only made it harder and his frantic straining against her tight embrace soon left him exhausted, meaning that for at least the last thirteen minutes or so minutes, Diane found herself was spanking a boy that was sobbing furiously, desperately even, but otherwise surrendered. He lay limply across her knee as the steady beating being applied to the seat of his plastic pants continued.

For this last part, Diane let herself surrender too – to the bliss of spanking a deserving bottom. While a school Matron, she had never realised just how much she enjoyed giving discipline – now she wondered why she retired. Inheriting this house had made it seem a good idea to move to the coast and relax, but in retrospect she missed the work and had grown lonely. The needs and wants of the boys, their dependence on her, and their need of her discipline of course. And like her need to give discipline, she knew this young man needed to feel it. He needed his bottom to burn just as much as she needed to make it so. He needed to howl, just as much as she needed to hear him howl. And he needed to cry, real sobbing, heart baring and healing tears, just as much as she needed to cause their release. Somewhere inside them both, they knew they needed each other. A disciplinarian and her charge. The future, she was sure, was going to be good for them both.

Eventually the twenty minutes was complete, and David was allowed to slide off her lap onto the floor, where he lay looking at her with shock and amazement on his face, his hands clamped to his bottom, rubbing furiously. Diane looked down at him with satisfaction: when a boy had no thoughts other than to rub his throbbing backside, then she knew a spanking had done its job.

‘Excellent! A well spanked boy ready for bed,’ she told him, leading the still crying boy to stand up and to his bed, where she guided him to lie down – on his front. She sat her wide hips beside him, near the pillow, and stroked his hair.

‘You’ll feel much calmer and happier in the morning,’ she said soothingly. ‘Spanking does a boy wonders and I am sure I will need to spank you again. From now on Matron will take care of you and you will be much happier and calmer. Of course, not all spankings from me will be like that one. Tonight was to set the tone – and to punish you for pointing your wee-wee in my face. Most will be little spankings to keep your bottom hot and remind you to behave, not a full force punishment spanking like that one. As long as you don’t repeat that, then you need not expect another such beating. Although, I warn you, I am not limited in my ability discipline and there are many ways to punish a dirty boy. Now, then off to sleep.’

David looked up. ‘Yes… Matron,’ he whispered.

Diane smiled to herself; inside she was radiating joy at the turn of events. She turned off his light and watched the boy for a few minutes. His exhaustion, both emotionally and physically meant that he fell asleep quickly. Leaning down to kiss the boy on his head, she slipped quietly from the room and went to her own. Her last comment, about the many other ways to punish a boy for masturbating, was a lie – or at least not based on truth. As a Matron she had spanked boys for masturbating, but the thoughts in her mind, the things she would like to do, were make believe. She sighed as she walked into her room, thinking of the odd thoughts her desires held. So confusing for her, yet so persistent and powerful as well. Stopping in front of her mirror, she raised the front of her uniform: as she had suspected, and be acutely aware while David wriggled across her leg, her long legged panty girdle was completely soaked throughout the crotch and gusset. She blushed at the site – she had never been able to feel fully at peace with how sexual she found discipline, let alone the other thoughts that haunted her. It had been her habit over the last two years to clear her mind of them, by writing them out as quirky little stories. Tonight, she would have to start a new one: a story about a landlady and her lodger. Sitting down at the typewriter she kept by her window, still profoundly aware of her wet knickers, she began to type.


The next morning David woke up from a dream that seemed to have been some sort of boarding school mixed with a typing pool office. The images were hazy, but what recalled had been very erotic and inside his plastic pants he had a full erection. His eyes still closed he snuggled into his pillow, the tender ache in his buttocks as oddly erotic as the wet slipperiness inside the pants. His hand touched his penis through them, which felt even better, and he rubbed the wet thickness over the glands. A moan escaped his lips and his face pressed into the pillow.

‘And just what do you think you are doing?!’

David’s eyes flew open to see Miss Cochrane staring down at him, a cup of tea in her hands. The cup was quickly placed on the bedside table and then that same hand grabbed his covers and whipped them down. David’s erection and slippery wet pants were on full display.

‘Dirty boy!’ Diane said sternly. ‘Get up and stand by your bed, this instant!’

Panicking but unable to protest, David scrambled to obey, where he was immediately pushed to bend forward across his bed, his plastic covered bottom protruding out behind him. He feared the bath brush, but Miss Cochrane did not move to fetch that or anything else. Instead she grasped his protruding penis, once again through the pants, and held him tightly while with her free hand – her hard right hand – proceeded to spank his bottom. The effect put David into shock – but not a bad shock. The state of arousal he had been in, and the lessor pain of a hand spanking over his plastic pants, meant it was anything but unpleasant. The sharp smacks served only to gently relight the fire in his buttocks while simultaneously causing him to jerk forward and push his penis through the grasp of his landlady. It took only twenty or so such spanks before his climaxed powerfully into his pants, inside his landlady’s hand and onto a collapsed heap across the bed.

‘Hmm!’ Diane said sternly, her satisfaction clear. ‘I am well aware boys need release, but you will never touch yourself in that disgusting way. When you need to have an emission, it will be my unfortunate duty to arrange it. And it will always be during some cleansing discipline – be it one form or another. Now, off to the bathroom with you to wash, and then dress and come down to breakfast.’

From the gasping heap on the bed came a murmured, ‘Yes Miss Cochrane.’

‘Matron! From now on.’

David looked up and nodded, ‘Yes Matron.’

‘Good boy. Now chop chop – unless you want the brush after all?’

‘No Matron, thank you Matron,’ David said, scampering from the room.

When the young man had gone, Diane went downstairs. His ‘misbehaviour’ that morning had not been a surprise, but catching him (and she had waited nearly ten minutes to do so) had been planned. It had also, she realise, been oddly fun. As Matron at school, she had sometimes needed to deal with boys who were bed-wetters. It had often occurred to her that nappies might be a good cure for masturbation too, but she had never had to courage to try it, and had relied on the school approved punishment of a thorough spanking, or the cane. David’s immediate re-offence made her wonder if this might not be a punishment that would stop him. As she picked up the phone to dial a familiar number, she suddenly found herself wondering if she really did want him to stop. She was still musing over this thought when her call was answered.

‘Henderson’s Nursing Supplies,’ said a young female voice.

‘Yes. Hello. This is Diane Cochrane here. Could you put me through to Mrs Schmidt, please? Tell her it’s Matron Cochrane.’

‘I’m sorry Miss,’ said the girl who had answered the phone. ‘But Mrs Schmidt doesn’t work here anymore. Can anyone else help?’

‘Oh, that is a shame. She is happily retired I hope, not ill in any way?’ Though it had been three years, Diane had not expected her old friend to have left.

‘Oh no! Auntie… I mean Mrs Schmidt is very well.’ The girl’s voice dropped in volume – and lost some of its smart telephone voice, ‘She didn’t really retire, so much as set up on her own. I could get a message to ‘er… if you’re a friend, like?’

Diane was relieved to hear her old telephone friend was well. She was intrigued too, to realise she was talking to the lady’s niece.

‘Well, thank you… er?’

‘Mary, Miss.’

‘Well, Mary. I would absolutely love to talk to… your aunt again. So yes, please do pass on my name and number.’ She reeled them off and from the requests to repeat bits, knew the girl was both not very academic, yet taking trouble to copy them down carefully. ‘So,’ she said, when the details were given, ‘did you replace your aunt?’

‘Not really Miss. An’ she ain’t really my aunt, I just call her that cause…. Well, anyways, she got me the job here before she left.’ Her voice dropped even lower. ‘She wants me to come an’ work with her – once she’s a bit more established. I visit lots you see, and… Ooh! Your number! It’s the same code as Auntie’s. You in Hastings too?’

Diane gasped with surprise. ‘Lurleene is here! Heavens, I should have sought her out before. Please, call her today and pass on my number. I would love to meet her. We have chatted for what must add up to hours over the years, but we never actually met!’

‘You could go around to her shop and see ‘er,’ the girl said.

‘Her shop?!’

‘Well, not a shop exactly I suppose. She’s not really able to have a shop what with…’ The girl’s voice trailed off. ‘Er, it’s probably best I ring ‘er first.’

Diane was intrigued, but knew the girl was right and did not press further. ‘Very well. Now I want you to ring your aunt as soon as we stop speaking and ask her to call me. Understood?’

‘Yes Miss,’ Mary said. ‘Oh, um, did you still want to place ‘n order? Or… ’ the volume dropped again. ‘Or do that with auntie?’ It was clear the girl would prefer her aunt got the business.

‘Oh! I did not know that was possible, but since you have told me that Mary – and thank you – yes, I will speak to your aunt first. Now, ring her straight away, will you?’

‘Yes Miss. Right away!’ And with a click, the line went dead.

It was only ten minutes later when the phone rang again.

‘Matron! How wonderful to know you are close!’ Mrs Lurleene Schmidt’s German accent and unmistakable smokers’ croak crackled from the phone. ‘We meet, yes. It was foolish of us not to stay in touch. Tell me, are you coming this morning? I would like to show what I doing now. I think you enjoy.’

Even though the conversation that followed was mostly a matter of arranging directions, it still lasted half an hour. As soon as Diane mentioned that it had been a need of ‘the old supplies’ for a ‘young man currently staying with her’, Lurleene was eager to explain that she could supply anything a Matron might need. The ladies agreed to meet that morning.


While the sound of Miss Cochrane’s voice drifted up the stairs, David had emerged from the bathroom. Although he could not hear what was being said, he knew it was a phone conversation. Passing Miss Cochrane’s room, he could not resist putting his head around the door. The room was like a time warp, very old fashioned with severe hard wood furniture and a plain pattern bed spread. Like his, it had a large bay window, but in hers there stood a small desk supporting an old typewriter. A sheet of paper sat in it, the page half full of text. Quickly, he crossed the floor. His eyes ran over it and grew large as they did. The text was a story of sorts, about the school Matron, and him.

It was fiction, but it detailed how she seemed to wish to treat him much more harshly – and more like a little boy – and he was deeply attracted to the regime the writing described. Miss Cochrane was certainly a strange and quirky lady, but he could not deny his fascination for her and the things she said and – apparently – wanted to do. Moreover, his penis was growing in response to the revelation of her wishes, and he even started to wish the story was not fiction.

It was this wish that gave him an idea: an idea of how to send a message to Miss Cochrane that he would accept whatever she felt appropriate. At the end of the piece, he quickly typed the words: “Yes Matron,” said David.

Sitting back, he stared at what he had done. Miss Cochrane would see it. She would know he had done it. And she would know he was saying. And what, then, would happen? Would she be as harsh as he deserved? Would he get the treatment she had described? Hearing her ending the phone call, he rushed from the room to his. He stood inside his door, nervous as he heard her come up the stairs and enter her room. He heard drawers and her cupboard opening and shutting – she was clearly dressing. And then: ‘DAVID! COME HERE IMMEDIATELY!’


Diane had not seen the addition when she had returned to her room for some time, being preoccupied with getting ready for her visit. When she did, her initial reaction had been one of crushing embarrassment, then anger at herself for leaving her writing in plain view, and then finally confusion. What did he mean by it? Could he possibly actually want to be treated in such ways as her fantasizing mind had dreamed up, or was he being cheeky – or even sarcastic. In the end, she knew she had no choice but to confront the matter head on. Slipping a gown over her underwear, she called out to him.

‘I’m just dressing…er, Matron. I won’t be a moment.’

‘NOW! As you are!’

She heard footsteps and then David appeared in her doorway. He looked very nervous and stood only in his vest and underpants.

‘Explain this!’

In truth, Diane was anything but as assured as she sounded. David had seen exactly what she thought about, and she was very embarrassed. But she had no choice but to put on a front. What happened next however, changed her feelings completely.

David, standing before her in his small white Y Fronts and a T Shirt and squirming with obvious guilt and concern, stammeringly confessed that when he saw that she had needed to release her anger towards him by writing out what he deserved rather than acting on it, he felt he could not do anything but try to show her he understood and did not disagree with her over his true badness. Diane was taken aback and it took her a moment to regain her thoughts, and fully take in the implications of what he was saying.

‘So… you agree you deserve these punishments?’ she said, her voice almost betraying her own doubt.

David, looking at his feet, nodded.

‘I see,’ she said, her voice slightly choked. ‘Er, well I admit I am impressed with your honesty. I shall therefore no longer, as you put it, hold myself back. From now on you may expect total severity from me and the punishment regime you will endure will no longer be simply spankings.’ She struggled to get her feelings under control as she spoke, ‘Well,’ she said, couching to clear her throat. ‘This is good David, you will learn faster.’

As she spoke, Diane was well aware of the passions rushing through her. Her mind’s eye was filling with the images she had already described in writing, along with several she had yet to pen. The young man’s desire for very strict discipline, to say nothing of humiliation, was remarkable and affected her profoundly. If she could, she would have liked a few minutes time alone, to fully explore and understand her feelings, but she knew she had to act. David had to see that she took his ‘naughtiness’ seriously. She took the paper from the typewriter and handed it to him.

‘You will read this aloud, now,’ she told him. ‘You will do so with your underpants pulled down, for not only will the embarrassment be a good lesson to you, but when you have finished I will also be giving you a sound spanking for coming into my room when I was not here.’

David nodded and lowered his underpants and began to read.

‘“The Matron had blonde hair and blue eyes. She wore her hair in a shoulder length bob. She was blessed with good hips and a full bosom and could strike maternal fear into any boy…”’

As David continued to read and reached the more powerful parts, Diane had no choice but to turn and look out the window.

“…her personal interests included the discipline and punishment of males. Specifically her skills were proficiency with the hairbrush, paddle, and bath-brush, along with the strap, tawse, and cane. Other discipline items she favoured were the use of stinging nettles in intimate places and nappying together with 3-5 tablespoons of castor oil and glycerine suppositories. She had also found that red bags, and bulbs coated with strong, heat-producing liniment to be effective, as was the washing out and scrubbing of dirty mouths with strong soap. Forced chastity and control was a must for her, and often took the form of tight and lengthy periods of restraint with enforced day and night-time nappying (i.e. multiple nappies with plastic/rubber pants and rubber sheets)…”

Beneath her gown, Diane was becoming very damp and the truth of her actual feelings at hearing David read her words, was hard to hide from her face. My Heavens boy! She thought to herself as she heard her own deviant desires read out as deserved punishments. I am certainly going to have a time with you!

When David finally got to his own words of “Yes Matron”, Diane had got herself under control and turned to face him. To her amazement, the boy was sporting an enormous erection, and was clearly distressed and embarrassed about it too.

 

‘An erection! Again?! Well, your spanking must therefore be severe. Leave off your underpants and fetch the bath brush, David,’ she told him. Scared and fearful, yet also clearly willing to obey, David turned and scampered to the bath room to collect the fearful implement. As she watched the small, still bruised bottom go, Diane took the chance to pull at her panty girdle. If this carries on, she thought, I shall have to start wearing rubber underwear too.


Later that morning, while David tried to sit on his bottom in his room, writing out a punishment essay, Diane went to visit her old telephone friend Lurleene Schmidt.

‘Diane!’ cried Lurleene in her strong German accent, welcoming Diane into her home. ‘We meet finally.’ The women hugged, and it was clear a strong bond was felt by them both. They made their way into the German lady’s sitting room and sat down to have the tea that had already been laid out. ‘So you retire? I surprised and I saddened to hear you leave Lockleys.’

‘I am sorry. I feel ashamed to have not thought to contact you since, or even at the time. I inherited a house here and imagined the empty days and coastal walks too eagerly. If I’m frank, I’ve rather regretted it. I have entertained myself with letting a couple of rooms occasionally but life has been rather dull and I missed my young scally wags!’

Lurleene laughed. ‘Ah, but you have new one to care for? And my Mary told you I supply, yes?’

Diane nodded. ‘But she was rather reticent about it. She did say I could buy nappies from you, but she was unwilling to explain exactly what you are doing.’

‘Ah. I still supply for bedwetting, as your young boys had. But now, I also do for the-. Um, my friend, I hope, I trust you not shock. I supply too for humiliation and chastity of adult baby.’

‘Oh! Oh heavens! We… yes, of course, it makes sense now. And of course, that’s why you said you could help me with my young man.’

‘You not shock?’

‘No not at all. I am delighted!’

It was Lurleene’s turn to be relieved. ‘Ah, this is good. Then I have many things you may like. Tell me. Your boy? It is just for bedwetting, or humiliation punishment you want to do?’

Diane flushed. ‘Well, it is for punishment, and discipline,’ she said. ‘Although, mostly, he is to be nappied as punishment for… masturbation.’

‘Ah! The dirty, naughty boy! Yes, I see. Boys, they like to be very naughty this way, and they need to be punished for it.’

‘Yes. My boys at the school were still innocent and didn’t know what they were doing. But I still spanked them. But this boy is grown and knows full well he is being dirty and naughty. So I plan to be very very severe with him. It is his wish too, I think,’ she added, her face showing her uncertainty, despite the recent events with her writing.

Lurleene smiled. ‘And for you, this is for you good?’

Diane was not sure, but from the tone if not the wording she guessed what her friend meant. Her own face went red, but she nodded. ‘To be honest with you, Lurleene, it is too, er “good” for me. I get carried away.’

Lurleene nodded. ‘Why that is not good?’

Diane went redder. ‘I… I become very…’ she could not bring herself to finish, but the direction of her eyes led Lurleene to understand who looked at Diane with genuine care.

‘My friend. I think you perhaps do not know yourself so well? You talk of the wet, yes?’

Diane shifted uncomfortably, and nodded. ‘It is… too much… er, wet.’

‘This is not good? Why?’

‘I feel I should know better. And I would not wish to… take advantage of him, of David. It would be… wrong. I was always very proper with my boys.’

‘But this is young man! His erection is not boy’s puberty time. It is male desire. This boy wants you to punish, to embarrass him. And my friend, this is for you to enjoy him too!’ Lurleene paused and smiled kindly at her friend’s obvious discomfort. ‘So now, we look for what you come for. And I will show other things – for you to think about perhaps.’

She led Diane to the back of her home, where she had her storeroom. It took only a short time to find the nappy supplies Diane wanted. But the school Matron’s eyes widened at the many other items on show. And when her friend pulled out a pair of plastic knickers, in her own voluminous size, and told her, ‘For the too-much-wet,’ she blushed deeply. Nonetheless, gratefully, she added them to the pile she planned to buy.


David lay on his back on a padded plastic sheet in his bedroom. Diane knelt facing his bare legs, which were folded up and open, and looked down with a stern expression. She wore her blue Matron’s uniform and – at such moment as this – a thick rubber apron. Beneath her uniform she still wore her normal panty girdle – not yet having had the courage to wear the plastic underwear Lurleene had given her (which she had found contained a un-zipable slit over the crotch), and as a result she was aware of a large damp patch between her legs. She did not know why these disciplinary acts made her so wet, but she could not deny the feeling was becoming increasingly pleasant.

It was the night following Diane’s visit to Lurleene, and second night in which David had been put into nappies – to “stop him being naughty”. Under David’s bare bottom a thick terry cotton nappy waited to be pinned in place. Beside him was a pair of large, natural coloured rubber pants. Diane had oiled his groin, bottom and privates, and now she was, for the second time, “getting him ready”.

‘Yes David, from now on you will never touch yourself in this way,’ she told him as her rubber gloved hands moved slowly up and down the shaft of his penis, lubricated by liberal amounts of baby oil. ‘I will take on the onerous task of ensuring your prostrate is relieved each night when I put you in your nappy. But you are still not to touch yourself there. If – when I change you in the morning – I see evidence of self-masturbation, you will be punished.’

‘Oh, please Matron. Don’t spank me!’

Diane smiled. She could tell from the way he said it, and the slight movements of his hips as her hands worked their slippery magic, that a spanking was far from unappealing to the boy before her. He was rock hard and clearly her words were adding to his passion.

‘No, not a spanking David. Not for masturbation. You certainly deserve a red hot bottom, with hard, puffy buttocks to teach you what a naughty… dirty… little… boy your are…’ her words worked in line with her hands, making the boy moan, ‘but as you know, I have other ways to deal with masturbation. Things that will teach you’re a different kind of lesson. Take the risk if you like, but expect no mercy! Ah, now, I think we are nearly there…’ And she was right, for only seconds later, David climaxed and Diane caught his ejaculation in a damp flannel. ‘Good boy, now let’s get you all snug in your nappy. David lay still, his face content but red as Diane folded the thick terry nappy in place, pinned it, and then slid the thick rubber pants up his legs and into place around the nappy.

‘Right then, into bed little boy!’ she said, pulling him up and onto his feet and guiding him to sit on the edge of the bed. Once upright, his pyjama top was put over his head. It fell of course, only as far as his waist, leaving his nappy completely uncovered – a nappy far too thick to fit into pyjama bottoms.

Although this was only David’s second night under his new routine, he seemed utterly surrendered to it. Diane smiled and pulling back the covers, let him slip beneath them. ‘Now be a good boy and no getting out of bed, or it will mean a spanking.’

David blushed. ‘But what if I need to go, Matron?’

‘If you need the toilet, you must use your nappy, understood?’

David paused, then said in a little voice. ‘I need to go now.’

‘I see.’ Diane pulled back the covers and placed her hand right against his crotch, between his legs. ‘Right, let’s make sure you do fully, and then you can relax and go to sleep.’

David stared at her, his face reddening further.

‘Come on, I want to feel a hot nappy before I leave. Chop chop!’

David squirmed, and look mortified, but under the Matron’s steady and unflinching gaze, he finally closed his eyes and a second or two later, Diane felt the unmistakable sensation of the nappy padding between his legs growing warm. She smiled with approval. The boy must have held on when he had the chance to use the toilet before his nappying, and was flooding it. It was a good thing she had decided to triple layer him for the night, he was going to need it. David peed for a good thirty seconds and when he had finished, his nappy was hot and, under his rubbers, clearly wet so Diane knew he would have an uncomfortable night – unless he liked sleeping in a wet nappy.

‘Good boy,’ she said, replacing the covers. ‘Now stay in bed!’

‘What if I need to do a poo Matron?’

‘David, you are in a nappy. I would think the answer is obvious. Now, go to sleep. Nite nite.’

David smiled and turned over and snuggled up to his pillow while the Matron bent down and gave him a little kiss on the top of his head. ‘Good boy,’ she whispered. He smiled back.

Diane knew boys, and after she had been down stairs for half an hour, she crept back to check at David’s door. By chance, she had timed it perfectly, and the sound of frantic rubbing was came from his room. She threw open the door and turned on the light.

‘David!’ she almost shouted from the doorway. ‘’What are you doing?’ Four quick strides and a whipping back of his covers revealed what the answer, or at least the evidence of it. The front of his nappy bulged in an unmistakable way and David’s face was one of dismay and mortification.

‘You naughty, dirty little boy!’ she hissed, leaning over him and pulling his nappy down to his knees with force that surprised the boy. His still hard penis flipped out from the padding and stuck like a beacon of shame. He hands flew to his face as he murmured half terrified gasps of apology and remorse.

Diane was unsurprised and prepared though and fell into action. First the boy’s hands were grasped one by one, and tied by wrist straps to the head board. ‘We will have those firmly kept away I think,’ she told his terrified face. Her actions took only seconds; David was now firmly restrained.

‘Right,’ she began. ‘Now remember I warned you! No mercy!’

The boy whimpered slightly but said nothing, even licking his lips in a manner she both noticed and considered to be a rude and blatant challenge to her authority. His penis still stood to attention, so she knew his fear was not as bad as it should be. She pulled out some rubber gloves and firmly took hold of his penis, his shock at her touch was evident, but so – to her annoyance – was his pleasure.

‘I told you,’ she hissed. ‘That you were not to touch this!’ His penis was released momentarily in order to receive a sharp slap. ‘So now, boy, you will learn a whole new lesson!’

She continued scolding, but in her hands now was a tube of special lubricant she had brought with her. A liberal dose was emptied onto all the fingers of one hand and then rubbed across the fingers of both. Her hands then returned to the still stiff penis which she covered fully, particularly around the tip and its glands. The whole process took only seconds and immediately afterwards, her gloves were whipped off, and his nappy pulled up, pinned in place and encased again in the large thick rubber pants. This time however, the Matron fitted a tiny lock into the waist band, where a little metal chain ran through it (another special gift from Lurleene). It was all done very quickly, so that by the time David realised that the lubricant applied to his penis was in fact heat cream, it was locked away and out of reach. Not that he could have done anything with his wrists secured as they were to the bed.

Diane stood up and took up position by the end of his bed to watch.

The effect of the cream started as a worrying tingle but built to a burning sensation swiftly. David started to gasp, then moan and cry out in distress, as the red hot cream did its work to his poor trapped penis. His legs twisted this way and that. Once, and only once, he pulled them up and gripped them together in his distress, however the clenching of his thighs proved to increase the cream’s contact over his penis, and he immediately howled and thrust his legs as far apart as he could, and then thrust his hips forward in an attempt to desperately cause as much air space inside his nappy as possible.

To her surprise, Diane had to suppress a gasp of her own at this point, caught unawares by her physical reactions. Her panty girdle which had been wet, now quickly became soaked as the sight of the twisting and squirming nappied boy before her sent powerful tingles through her body. She staggered back and unable to stop herself, her hand found its way under her uniform and pressed deep into the gusset of her soaked panties. She almost cried out as the relief of touching herself opened the flood gates of her desire.

Fortunately the boy, struggling in agony as his penis burned inside the thick nappy, was unaware of the passions that had taken over his landlady. As he squirmed and groaned, she rubbed unseen. It was the most erotic thing she had ever witnessed and she could not help herself.

Both experiences, his and hers, lasted a long time. So long in fact, that by the time the boy’s moans finally began to die down and his sweat soaked body became still, the Matron was slumped in the armchair that stood in the corner of his room, her body bathed in sweat that soaked her uniform, her panties soggy and hot. She was as exhausted as the boy, having climaxed more times than were countable in the 45 or 50 minutes of his suffering. Her vulva was actually sore.

As she came back from the unknown abyss her passion had dropped her into, she saw that David had fallen into an exhausted sleep. She prayed that her constant biting of her lip, and her retreating to the corner, out of his eye line, had meant her actions had remained unknown. But she knew she could not be sure. Pausing only to release the dozing boy’s hands, and check he was safe and well, she rushed from the room, full of shame and humiliation. Once safely in her room, she lay in her bed and blinked tears. She had punished the boy severely for what she herself had done. What would he think if he’d seen? What would her friend Lurleene have thought?


‘A severe lesson, isn’t it David.’ she said, when she came in to see him the next morning. Watching closely for any signs of his awareness of her own failings from the night before.

‘Yes Matron,’ David said meekly. ‘I deserved it fully and promise not to touch myself again, I do really!’

Diane was pleased and relieved by his words. She felt sure they would have been different had he been aware of what she had herself done. How hypocritical she had been.

‘Well, we shall see,’ she said, still playing her part. ‘Now, if you repeat the offence, I shall repeat it and spread the cream not just over the area of attention, but all around and inside your bottom hole! And if that does not stop you, then the next level of consequence will be a nappy full of stinging nettles. Do I make myself clear?

‘Yes Matron.’

‘Good boy. Now, I take it you are wet?’

David mumbled that he was.

‘Very well, let’s get that wet nappy off and put you in the bath.’


The rest of the week passed in a blur of cosy, bonding days between Diane and David. His punishments continued and his evident enjoyment of her strict, quirky discipline gently seduced Diane to embrace more and more of her own feelings. She began to warm to her body’s pleasure in punishing the boy, and her heart grew peaceful in the grateful and trusting twinkle she saw more and more in his eyes. After two weeks together, it seemed as if their relationship and its quirks were completely normal. Diane found she could push the boy further and further, and in doing so, found herself drawn her further into her own desires.

It was the weekend again, and an invite from Lurleene, to meet her ‘niece’ Mary came over the phone. With a happy heart, Diane dressed her young charge smartly, put him on his best behaviour and steered him towards her rarely used car for the trip across town. On the dot of twelve, she knocked on Lurleene’s door.

‘Matron! And this is David I think?’ Lurleene smiled warmly as she opened the door. She welcomed them both in, giving her friend a warm smile and David an up and down look of inspection.

David in turn smiled politely, and shook her hand. His bottom tingled from a recent spanking and during their drive there had been instructions on behaviour and promises of consequences. By now, being fully embedded in the disciplinary relationship theirs had become, he had nodded and said, ‘Yes Matron’ as and when was required.

‘Matron, you remember Mary I think?’

A young woman of at least twenty five sat on the rug covered floor of Lurleene’s sitting room. She wore a yellow, little girl dress that barely covered an enormous nappy. She had a teddy bear sitting beside her, a book in both hands and in her mouth was a pacifier. Ribbons held her hair in bunches.

‘Hello Matron!’ the girl mumbled through her dummy, grinning up at Diane.

‘Give Matron a kiss, Mary. Good girl please.’

Mary got to her feet – remarkably like a toddler would – and waddled over to give the surprised Diane the biggest hug she could. Immediately won over, she hugged the girl back. Then, unbidden, Mary hugged David too, making the boy blush and the two ladies laugh. Having said her exaggerated hellos, Mary dropped back to the rug, lay on her stomach and elbows and went back to looking at the storybook she had been reading when they came in. Her new position presented them all with a clear view of her bulging nappy and the frilly knickers that covered it. David’s face showed both surprise and fascination.

‘Please, take seat,’ Lurleene said, but when David went to sit, she tutted. ‘No, not you young man. Young men stand in the presence of ladies. If,’ she added with a sudden unsure glance at Diane, ‘that is also your wish?’

Diane smiled and nodded. ‘Absolutely, I always like seeing how others discipline young males,’ she said. ‘However, on that note. May we have a chat in private for a moment.’

‘Yes! We should! I glad you have bought your young man, but yes, we ladies need private time. Mary, go to room until I call you again.’

‘Yes auntie,’ the girl said without hesitation.

‘And David, you to go to the shop on corner and buy these.’ She handed him a short list. ‘Here is money.’

With Mary and David despatched, the ladies sat down and for a moment just grinned at each other – Diane was still taking in the scene she had just witnessed and Lurleene was enjoying her reaction to it. After giving a sudden chuckle of released tension, Diane was the first to speak. ‘I bought David along, because I want to get some more clothing for him and it occurred to me, we could use him as our model as you show me the things you have. I would like to get him some baby clothes, but also some sissy boy outfits. What do you think?’

‘And excellent idea. He will cooperate? He like the life?’

Diane took out the short story that David had found on her typewriter. ‘I think, I hope, after our talk the other day that you will not be too shocked by this. A silly little story I made up. In fact I would be too embarrassed to reveal it, but I do sense we are the same – well, I always have. But it is the best way for me to explain why I know he will do anything he is told. He read this, on my typewriter in my bedroom, and if you look at the last line, and I tell you he was so bold as to type that line himself, having read the above, I think you can see he is a willing to accept humiliation as discipline. Indeed, he believes he deserves it. But please, read before I lose my nerve and hide it again.’

Lurleene smiled as she took the paper and read avidly for a few minutes. When she had finished Diane could see she was red in the face and breathing deeply. ‘My sister, I like very much! This perfect for naughty boy. If he thinks too, certainly he will be model.’

‘I’m so glad you approve. It is lovely that we are of the same mind in the treatment of young males?’

‘Oh yes! Indeed, if you allow me take charge of the boy, only while here of course. I show you how alike we are!’

Diane smiled. ‘Agreed!’ she said.

The ladies talked of their similar interests until David returned from the shop with the groceries. He carried them into the kitchen where Miss Schmidt gave him a long cool drink, which he finished while she checked the groceries, and her change. When both were ready, she led him back to the sitting room where Diane waited.

Lurleene looked at David with a stern expression. He had been left to stand before them, and was shuffling nervously. ‘Your Matron tell me you are dirty boy!’ she told him. ‘So, when you here, you will be nappied like Mary. Strip off  – completely.’

Wide eyed, David looked at his Matron. Understanding the look, she told him he was to obey Mrs Schmidt in everything. David nodded obediently and started to strip.

While he did, Lurleene went to a cupboard and took out several items. First was a rubber sheet, which she told the now naked and blushing David to lie down on. Next she fetched all thing she needed to nappy him.

David continued to blush furiously, but did not complain, as his bare bottom and front were powered and nappied. Nor did he bulk at the huge plastic pants he was put into, which billowed around his snug, but thick cotton nappy.

‘There, that better.  Now, you sit on rug, like baby.’

‘Yes Mrs Schmidt,’ he said meekly.

Lurleene winked at Diane and then going to the foot of the her stairs, called for Mary to come down and to bring a book for David. When Mary reappeared she plopped her nappied bottom down on the rug, next to David. She gave him a book but otherwise ignored him, as if a nappied boy was the most normal thing in the world.

Lurleene sat next to Diane again, and leaned close to whisper to her. ‘Now, watch. While in kitchen, I give David powerful, how you say, diuretic. Soon he cannot stop I think.’ She grinned in such a way that Diane could not help but feel a rush of delight.

And so it was. Mary read her book and the ladies made chit chat. And David squirmed. It was not long before they heard him give a slight whimper and unmistakable sound of wee pouring out inside his nappy.

David, his face crimson, gave nervous glances at the women and Mary, who at that very moment, gave a little ‘Oh’ sound herself.

Lurleene looked down at her. ‘What, Mary dear?’ she asked.

Mary pouted. ‘Nappy wet!’ she actually managed to sound surprised.

‘Ah. I see. You know nappy change happen at midday, 3pm and 6pm. You can you tell me how long Mary wait for next change?’

Mary peered at the wall clock Lurleene had indicated and her face screwed up as if with effort. ‘Is it, er… now auntie?’

Lurleene smiled and shook her head. ‘Naughty girl. You know not now. It only just gone 1.00 o’clock, so Mary stay in her nappy for two hours before next change.’

Mary pouted, but rolled back onto her tummy and went back to her book. Her nappied seat, visible again, was clearly soaked.

‘Which,’ Lurleene went on. ‘Give us time to find new clothes for the little boy. Come David, your Matron wants to get you baby clothe.’

Diane had been listening with amused interest, and almost laughed out loud when she saw the look on David’s face when he realised that not only was he going to be in his wet nappy for another two hours, but that he was also going to spend it with the two ladies dressing and undressing him in baby clothes. He had coloured deeply and looked very worried as he was made to stand up and waddle in his heavy nappy behind their host, with his Matron right behind him.

Lurleene led Diane and David through to her ‘shop’ – or rather, the huge room that served as a storeroom, workroom, and dressing room attached to the back of her house. It was a long, wide room, with many rails filled with all sort of baby and kinky clothing. Diane had already seen it, but David’s eyes went wide when he saw all the various plastic and rubber pants, petticoats, sissy and little girl dresses. When Lurleene went straight to a rail and pulled out a little pink dress, that was filled with both masses of lace and frilly lines, his face went crimson. Ignoring his reluctant steps forward, Lurleene advanced on him, and in seconds the dress had been pulled over his head and was being done up at the back by his Matron. The women stood back to admire the sorry faced boy, who now stood in the short puffy dress before them.

‘I like the way his nappy shows so clearly,’ said his Matron. ‘Very humbling for a naughty little sissy boy who wets himself.’

Lurleene smiled and nodded. ‘This make a need to cover bottom – with something pretty.’ She rummaged in a drawer and came out with a pair of large frilly knickers. ‘Put on!’ she commanded David, although in fact all that was required of him was to step into them as she held them out. They were soon in place and his padded middle looked even bigger with the many frills. ‘And now, shoes and socks.’ She brought more items and soon David stood complete in white knee socks and shiny black shoes.

‘Oh Lurleene, he looks delightful!’

Her friend smiled. ‘Yes, I think this should be good dress for ladies tea parties. I will bring Mary next week, and they can be little girls together.’

David’s face was beetroot. But it soon became evident he was growing again, inside his nappy.

‘Oh look, Matron! Your boy likes his dress.’

The women teased and scolded David until he was almost in tears with embarrassment and humiliation. They continued to dress him too, trying out all their ideas and thoughts. He was presented in various short nighties and dresses and many adult baby outfits. It wasn’t just sissy outfits they tried though. Lurleene kitted him out in a junior boy’s school uniform, which (to the Matron’s surprise and interest – he seemed to find particularly embarrassing), along with several other little boy outfits.

The last one was a little sailor suit, with a snug little white and blue top and a very tight fitting pair of little pant-shorts that made his nappied bottom look huge and allowed for his plastic pants to peep out the leg holes. That one, Diane decided, was her favourite.

The afternoon went quickly and soon it was time for David and Mary’s change. Lurleene led them back to where Mary lay curled up dozing on the couch. She offered to change David too. However, before she could even agree, David started to make protests which angered her, and did him no favours. Before he was handed over to Mary’s aunt, the Matron borrowed a rubber apron, pulled down David nappy and put him across her lap. She gave him a long hard spanking with a borrowed hair brush while David howled in both pain and humiliation and promised not to argue again. Mary watched in gleeful fascination.

Once the boy was suitably chastised, he was laid down next to Mary on the rubber sheet put down for the babies’ change. Their nappies were both removed, and the two young ones lay side by side as the ladies looked down at them. Mary seemed completely comfortable under this scrutiny, but David, despite the distraction of his hot, sore bottom, squirmed under their gaze. Lurleene’s comments that he had been nicely shaved drew such whimpers of embarrassment from him, that Diane had to wave the hair brush at him to quieten him down. When Lurleene finally knelt down to wash and nappy them, Diane watched over her boy’s reluctant cooperation. She made up her mind that she would be extra strict over the next few days so as to make sure the next time they met with Lurleene, that he would be as well behaved as Mary.

Finally the ‘children’ were freshly nappied and sitting side by side on the rubber sheet.

‘Well, sadly I think it is time we say goodbye,’ Diane said.

‘Yes, of course,’ said Lurleene. ‘I think you need something for David to go home in. Something to over his large nappy, yes?’

‘I think that little school uniform will do fine,’ Diane said. ‘Though I will allow him to wear a coat – this time.’

‘Excellent! I have school shorts that will be baggy enough to go over a thick nappy,’ Lurleene said. ‘It show at the legs I think, but baby boys often show their nappies, yes?’

David looked mortified, but the look in the Matron’s eyes silenced him. He did not know it, but his glances at Mary while she was being changed, meant his Matron was now in a very cruel mood. And so, ten minutes later, David, beetroot red and wearing a little boy school uniform under a school mack, walked humbly by his Matron’s side to her car.


It was Monday of their last week. A million years since the day when David had knocked on the retired Matron’s door. Plans had been made, and it was known and agreed that David would spend every weekend with her until the end of his studies. At which point, he would come and live with her, permanently. The young man and the retired school Matron had fallen in love – albeit of a curious kind.

It was after lunch and David stood before her, waiting. In just a T-Shirt and socks he was naked from the waist down. When his Matron was ready, she held out the rubber pants for him to step into. As she drew them up his legs, she scolded him gently. ‘Once these are on, I can keep a close eye on any signs of that dirtiness you still engage in! If there is, then today you will get the strap across your seat! Do you understand?’

‘Yes Matron,’ he said.

The rubber pants were semi-transparent in a natural golden brown colour, and much thicker and stiff – and noisy – than the lighter ones he had been in before. They were a special pair Lurleene had given Diane at their last meeting (a Saturday lunch when David and Mary had sat at a little table, beside the grown-ups, drinking tea in pink match dresses and big nappies). The rubber pants had leg holes with very tight seals, made of a band of at least a half inch strip – as did the waist. When they were in place, he heard a familiar click.

‘There, now you are locked into these rubber pants, so you better behave!

‘Excuse me Matron,’ David said. ‘But there’s no nappy. What if I need to go to the toilet?’

‘I will tell you when you may have a toilet break, so there is no need to ask.’

‘But what if I can’t wait?’

‘David, I said I will tell you when to go. If you cannot wait, if you cannot hold on, then obviously you will wet your rubber pants. But if you do, then of course you will take the strapping it earns. Now, to the corner and not another word!’

Wide eyed, David nodded obediently and went to stand in the corner.

Diane began to watch a TV show, but David’s increasing squirming kept catching her attention with both fascination and amusement. It was not long before she heard him give a slight whimper and then came the unmistakable sound of wee filling up the inside of his rubber pants. The sound became a loud hissing as a puddle formed in the bottom of the pants, filling up between his legs.

‘David?’ called Diane, ‘You appear to have a puddle between your legs. Come here!’

David turned and walked over to her. As he did, the puddle in his rubber pants sploshed and splashed around his bottom. Though his face had a look of abject embarrassment, his penis was starting to grow.

Diane leaned forward and lifted her hand upwards under his rubber pants. Lurleene had been right. The tight leg seals stopped any leaking; the wee merely swelled up and over his bottom and penis.

‘What have you done, you dirty dirty boy?’ Diane scolded. ‘Your naughty penis is completely submerged in its own wee!’ She tutted and smacked it through the rubber. The reaction was to only make it grow. In seconds David had a full on erection, stretching the front of his rubber pants out. ‘Well David! You know what this means, don’t you?’

‘Yes Matron. A spanking.’

‘Not today, David. I told you, it will be the strap! Hard!’

Diane opened a nearby cupboard to retrieve a fierce looking punishment strap approximately two feet long and a good three inches wide. The leather was thick and stiff. She then placed a chair, with the seat facing them.

‘Now, put your hands on the seat and bend over with your legs shoulder width apart, and keep still!’ Once the boy was in place his rubber pants hung down with a huge bulge underneath where the weight of the wee pulled them down. David’s erect penis thrust down into it.

‘Ten strokes to punish you because of wetting your rubber pants and for your disgusting display.’

And with that, the strap was lifted and brought down across David’s bottom.

‘Aaahhhh!’ David cried, and immediately began hopping from foot to foot. Diane almost laughed out loud; the dance caused his wee to furiously splash around inside his pants and his penis to frantically wobble around within the puddle. It seemed to her a perfect and humiliating punishment for a forbidden erection. Another stroke landed and the dance began again and, as she enjoyed it, she felt her own plastic knickers – which she had now begun to wear regularly – start to grow slippery. Licking her lips, she lifted the strap.

The third arrived and set the boy off again. Now not just hopping but bending and jerking his legs so that his bottom bobbed up and down. The forth stroke added a new move: this time David finished the squirming routine by shaking his bottom. Diane recognised this as the attempt chastised boys made to vainly try and shake the fire from the buttocks, but all he succeeded in doing was to make his reddened cheeks wobble delightfully inside the rubber pants. The act was so cute and provocative that she felt her own crotch flood as a result.

The next few strokes were delivered in a quick succession that kept David hopping and howling. By the time the tenth had been given, the strapping had clearly been severe enough to end his erection. But Diane was not finished.

‘Stay bent over, David,’ she said. ‘Legs wide apart.’ She put her hand on his rubber covered seat. ‘I want to make sure you have learned your lesson.’ Her hand slipped down his bottom, reaching between his legs until her finger cupped the end of his penis. She started to fondle it with little squeezes. ‘Now as long as you do not produce another disgusting display, your beating is over. But if this naughty little thing becomes… oh dear, oh dear, dear, dear!’

David’s penis had grown full again and once more thrust down into the pool of pee in his rubber pants. Diane stepped back and raised the strap again. ‘Fifteen this time, David. And then I will test you again and if necessary, it will be twenty, then twenty five. And so on until I have beaten this erection away for good.’

The world became a curious alternative universe for David, during the following hour. A mixture of agony and ecstasy as Diane changed from a merciless assailant of his bottom, to ruthless pleasurer of his penis. David danced in more than one way as the alternating teasing and strapping kept him literally on his toes.

This continued on and on until, at the end of one long period of pleasuring, Diane had grown so hot and bothered herself that she took the bold decision to remove her matron’s uniform. She stood unseen behind him, dressed only in her commodious brassiere, heels, hold up stockings – that bit deep into her fleshy thighs – and the voluminous plastic knickers. Once relieved of her outer layers, her excitement increased, passions more powerful than she had ever known seemed to automatically draw her hands to unzip the slit of the plastic pants and expose her vulva. In turn, this act made her not only all the more aware of how utterly soaked her crotch was, as the juices spread easily around the open slit, but she also found that once the opening was pulled apart, her swollen vulva made it remain wide. She was able to return the attention of one hand to the boy’s once again hardened penis while her own sex was fully exposed and pleasured by the other. The excitement she felt at this was undeniable and – unable to hold back anymore – she took hold of his shoulders and pulled the boy upright – spinning him to face her and intending to hug him close.

David came around and saw the undressed state of his Matron, her enormous bosom in its support, her thunderous thighs and their decorative stockings, and most of all the smooth, expansive plastic knickers and the now wide, gaping opening that gushed forth juices of unrestrained sexual desire. He could not contain himself: he dropped to his knees and plunged his face into her crotch and began to lick like a puppy desperate for water.

Diane gasped with surprise and shock, but also enormous delight. Grabbing the chair David had previously been bending over, she dragged it close so that she could hold onto it for support – and place one foot on it to allow the boy’s eager mouth more access. His tongue seemed frantic in his desire and efforts to please her and, grabbing the back of his head with a slight fistful of hair, she pulled his face deep into her.

‘Oh David,’ she moaned. ‘You are such a naughty naughty boy!’

David made some muffled response and though she was eager for his attentions to the bulging lips of her sex, she pulled his head back to hear him better. ‘What did you say, boy?’

David looked up to her, his face wet from her juices. ‘I want to press my face into your bottom, Matron, and please you until you are ready to beat mine again.’

Diane almost laughed with delighted shock. ‘My big fat bottom would suffocate you boy!’

David grinned. ‘Yes Matron. Your big, fat, enormous bottom.’

Diane did laugh this time. ‘Oh cheeky boy! Oh how I shall beat you! But first, you shall have your wish. Lie down!’

David did as he was told, his wet face grinning. Diane turned her back to him and straddled across him, sinking to her knees so that her bottom lowered towards his face. She felt the plastic of her knickers tighten, and the opening of her crotch widen as she dropped lower – and to her utter delight, she heard David moan with desire. ‘You’re bottom is magnificent!’ he whispered.

Diane, a woman who’d had very few sexual encounters in her life, blushed with joy, but ever the disciplinarian, she murmured back he would be beaten for looking at it. Yet as her bottom moved closer and closer to his face, the boy just giggled and reached up to rub his hands all over it. As she came lower, his hands reached around to her thighs instead, pulling her towards him. ‘Oh!’ she gasped, as she felt his cheeks slide between her plastic coated buttocks, and her open vulva pressed against his nose and mouth. The boy groaned with obvious pleasure and began to lick and suck at her once again.

As Diane rested fully on him, snuggling her fat cheeks over his whole face, his hard penis – still trapped inside his own rubber pants – twitched with increased passion. She reached forward and wrapped her hands around it through the rubber. Inside them, the boy’s wee still splashed around his buttocks, his penis glistened with it. For Diane, who loved pee-wet boys, it was heaven. She slipped the front of his rubbers down and took his penis directly into her hands. She could smell his wee and feel it on her hands and it excited her further. Hearing David moan with his own pleasure at her attentions, she smiled and gave the rock hard penis little smacks. ‘You belong to a very wicked boy, don’t you,’ she told it, smacking it again. This brought more muffled sounds and lifting her bottom she said, ‘What was that, naughty boy?’

‘It wants to go inside you,’ he said softly.

Diane closed her eyes – his words effecting her deeply. Rising further, she switched her position so that she faced the boy and her dripping vulva hovered above his straining penis. It still glistened with his wee and as she looked down at his passion covered face, she wagged a finger and said, ‘If I put your wet, dirty wee-wee in me, I shall have to beat you so very hard afterwards, that you will not be able to sit on your bottom for a whole day!’

David gazed up at her. ‘Please!’ he begged. ‘Anything!’

Diane, who was fast learning the art of female dominant lovemaking, let her vulvar drop until it slightly straddle the tip of his penis. The boy groaned.

‘Oh please!’ he begged again, straining upwards.

Diane smiled. ‘Such a beating, boy! Are you sure?’

David nodded frantically, his hands gripping her thighs with entreaty. ‘Yes, yes, anything! Beat me until my buttocks are black and blue! Only please, go lower!’

Grinning with her new found power and desirability, Diane gave the boy his wish. She lowered her powerful thighs and slid very slowly down the length of his thrusting penis. He squealed with ecstasy. She lifted up again and when she next dropped they both moaned. It was only her second encounter of sexual intercourse, but she felt completely empowered and in control and with her hands on his chest, she rose up and down to her own rhythm. Moving up and down on his member in her own slow, teasing way.

The boy squirmed under the weight of the fat Matron, his hands frantically moving from her legs to her plastic covered front and bottom, and then to her pendulous breasts, which had somewhere along the line been released from the brassiere that had contained them.

Diane suspected it could not last, that the boy would climax soon as all young boys supposedly did, so she went slowly in the hope of making him last. However, she soon started to feel that growing burning, tingling like sensation. It built and built until in a releasing burst of extraordinary power, waves of pleasure flooded through her. First one, then another and another. Almost immediately the boy’s body did the same and the two of them climaxed together, their bodies ridged with tension as the waves swept through them.

The boy fell back gasping, the Matron on top of him. Looking up at her, his arms wrapped around her and he hugged her, kissing her face and lips. Amazed that a boy half her age would be so attracted to her, she joyfully kissed him back. ‘I shall still,’ she said between kisses, ‘beat your naughty bottom though.’

‘Yes Matron,’ the young man beneath her answered. ‘Every time!’


Later that night, the Matron and her boy lay in her bed, washed and clean and dosing in joyful rest. She was naked, but the boy was dressed in a short pink nighty, his bottom contained in a large, terry nappy and huge puffy plastic pants. They lay curled as spoons, the Matron behind him against his back. Her hand wrapped around him. Inside his nappy his bottom was puffy and swollen, mixed crimson and purple in colour. And, like their love, it throbbed continuously.

 

by Timothy