    Shane - Part 1

    	My fifteenth birthday was a nightmare. My dad had
    taken me out to celebrate -- just the two of us -- and as
    we were driving to the batting cages we were hit by a drunk
    driver and nearly killed. I was beat up pretty badly and
    was held in the hospital for observation because they
    weren't sure if I had internal injuries. My dad got a
    broken leg, two fractured ribs, and a sprained shoulder.
    The car was totaled.
    	My step mom, Nancy, wasn't with us because I hadn't
    wanted her there. She had just married my dad less than six
    months before, and my real mom and I were still close. My
    dad had gotten custody of me because my mom had gotten a
    job in Germany, and I didn't want to leave the U. S. I had
    been given the choice of which parent I wanted to live
    with, but I loved them both. I just chose my dad because I
    didn't want to move away. My mom was back in the states
    every couple of months and I spent all the time with her
    that I could and we wrote letters a lot. I missed her a lot
    sometimes, and I really resented the way Nancy tried to
    mommy me.
    	She had ideas about being a mom that were more
    appropriate to a little, little kid, not a young man like
    me. I'd be able to drive in less than a year, and I had a
    part-time job and was saving up to buy a car. I got good
    grades and was generally a much more mature kid than most
    my age, and everyone but Nancy seemed to recognize that and
    treat me accordingly.
    	The day we got to come home from the hospital was
    where things really started to change for the bad. Because
    of his shoulder and ribs, my dad couldn't use crutches and
    Nancy and I had to wheel him into the house in a
    wheelchair. I was still feeling achy and bruised and
    exhausted, and we were both in pretty bad shape. We helped
    my dad into bed, and he looked at me and said, "Why don't
    you go take a nap, son? You look tired."
    	"Okay" I said.
    	"I'll be in to help you in a minute" said Nancy who
    was helping my father take off his pants.
    	I gave her my much-practiced "you're crazy" look and
    said, "I'm fine, Nancy."
    	I went to my room, kicked off my shoes, and collapsed
    on top of my bed without getting in. It felt great to be
    home and in my own room again. I closed my eyes and started
    to have day dreams about the accident. I heard Nancy walk
    in, and I opened my eyes and gave her a "now what?"
    expression. I wished she would just go away and leave me
    alone!
    	"Don't you want to take your pants off, honey?" she
    asked.
    	"Just go away, Nancy, okay?" I said. "I'm fine."
    	"I don't think I like your tone, young man," she said.
    	I didn't want to argue with her. I didn't want to
    upset my dad. So I just said, "I'm sorry. I just want to go
    to sleep now, okay?"
    	She looked at me sympathetically and said, "I'm going
    to make some dinner while you boys sleep. Your dad asked
    for lasagna. Would you like to pick desert?"
    	"Just whatever" I said.
    	"Shane," she said, "I'd really like to make you
    something special for dessert. Isn't there anything in
    particular you'd like?" She never let up trying to get at
    me, I thought.
    	"What I would particularly like," I said
    sarcastically, "is to go to sleep now. Can't you just leave
    me alone, Nancy? I mean, if that's what I really want,
    can't you just go away? Is that so hard? Just go away.
    Please!" I was tired, frustrated, and mad. Nancy walked out
    of my room without saying anything, almost slamming my door
    behind her.
    	I knew I had gotten to her. She was so much more
    strict than my mom, and had gotten after my dad a few times
    to "take me down a peg" as she liked to put it. She meant
    my dad should spank me, which he hadn't done in a couple of
    years and which we both knew I was too old for now.
    	I woke up a few of hours later when I heard her
    calling me. The first thing I was aware of was that I was
    hungry. "Argh!" I said, as I sat up. The second thing I was
    aware of was that the front of my pants were all wet. I
    reached down into my pants and felt my crotch and
    underwear. I had wet myself in my sleep! I had never done
    that, even as a little kid. I had all kinds of feelings
    just then, fear, embarrassment, confusion. I stripped off
    my pants and underwear and laid them over my desk chair to
    dry before I took them to the laundry. I didn't want anyone
    to find out what had happened. It would be so humiliating
    if they did.
    	I changed and Nancy and I helped my dad to the den
    where we all ate dinner together with my dad propped up on
    the couch. It was nice doing this again. Nancy always made
    us have dinner in the dining room, and it was nice to eat
    in here again like old times. It made me miss my mom,
    though.
    	After dinner Nancy disappeared into the kitchen and
    came out with a chocolate cake (my favorite) and candles
    singing happy birthday. My dad joined in, and I looked back
    and forth between them uncomfortably. I didn't feel like
    celebrating my birthday. It was a couple of days over
    anyway, and it reminded me about the accident. I kind of
    felt like it was my fault that it had happened. I mean, we
    wouldn't have been there at that time and place if my dad
    hadn't been taking me to celebrate.
    	I blew out my candles and Nancy started cutting slices
    for us. My dad scowled at me and nodded toward Nancy while
    she was busy cutting. "Thank you, Nancy," I said.
    	She beamed at me and said, "You're welcome, Shane.
    Happy Birthday."
    	Afterward Nancy and I helped my dad into the bathroom,
    and she asked me to help him undress while she cleaned up
    the kitchen. It was weird helping my dad like that. Like he
    was the kid and I was the dad. He had to keep his broken
    leg out of the shower, and I helped him balance while he
    bathed. When he got out and dried off he said, "You should
    get in" and nodded his head at the shower.
    	I pulled off my socks and threw them into the hamper.
    Then I did the same with my shirt and pants, and just as I
    was about to pull my boxers off Nancy walked into the
    bathroom.
    	"Hey!" I said, because I was in my underwear and my
    dad was naked.
    	"Hey, what?" she said. "How you doing, honey?" she
    asked my dad, patting his chest.
    	"Get out," I said.
    	My dad frowned at me and said, "Shane, I don't like
    the way you've been talking to Nancy lately. She's my wife,
    and whether you like it or not she's your step mom." He
    held up his hand for silence as I started to speak and
    said, "I know you and your mom are close. Nancy isn't
    trying to change that, son. But she's the one taking care
    of us both now, and it's going to be harder than usual with
    me out of commission so I don't want you to give her any
    gruff."
    	I pulled a towel around my waist and Nancy said, "Are
    you embarrassed, Shane?" She looked truly bewildered.
    	"Well, yeah," I said, like she was stupid (which at
    that moment I felt she was). "You want to stand around in
    your underwear in front of me?" I asked.
    	"That," said my dad, pointing angrily at me "is
    exactly what I'm talking about. That smart mouth of yours."
    He pivoted painfully toward me, Nancy under his good arm
    and said, "Shane, I am so close to putting you over my knee
    you had better just watch it." My jaw hit the floor when he
    said that, and before I could say anything he quickly said,
    "You are not too old, if that's what you're thinking. Now
    put that towel back up on the rack and stop acting so
    silly. I'm naked, and you don't see me acting all shy and
    embarrassed, do you?"
    	"She's your wife," I said angrily.
    	"Put the towel back, Shane" he said. I knew that tone
    of voice in my dad, and I knew there'd be hell to pay if I
    didn't obey. I had been pushing a lot the last couple of
    weeks, and now he was at that point he got to where he
    wasn't going to take any more.
    	I put the towel back and stood there feeling awkward
    in my boxers. "Now," said my dad, "what's the big deal?
    We've both seen you at your swim meets and those boxers
    cover a hell of a lot more than those tiny little speedos
    you were to dive in."
    	I squirmed a little. During swim meets and diving
    there were tons of guys in speedos, and the audience was
    far enough away that you didn't really have to think about
    them. They weren't two feet from you like my dad and Nancy
    were now, and if he had thought about it my dad would have
    realized that neither of them had ever seen me in speedos
    in the house or up close at all.
    	He was always taking her side, and instead of being
    able to articulate everything that was going through my
    head I just swallowed hard and had to suppress the urge to
    cry. It was humiliating when Nancy saw all this in me and
    said, "You guys are just ragged after the accident is all.
    Let's not fight, okay?"
    	"No" said my dad. "He's been way out of line for a
    long time now, and I'm not going to have it anymore.
    Especially with all the extra work on you while I'm
    recovering." There was some truth to what he said, but it
    still felt like he was taking her side.
    	"All right" she said, "but you're getting angry,
    honey. Can you see that? You look really tired and really
    pissed right now is all I was thinking."
    	He turned his head to her, and his shoulders relaxed
    and he leaned forward and kissed her.
    	He let out a long sigh and said, "Just get in the
    shower, Shane."
    	My guts twisted, because they weren't going anywhere.
    She was helping him to dress right there in the bathroom.
    	"Shane?" asked my dad, again in that tone.
    	"Get out," I said, looking at Nancy.
    	"I need her help, son. Just knock it off and get in
    already, will you?"
    	"Dad..." I started.
    	"Come on," he said, smiling. "Let's see the birthday
    boy in his birthday suit."
    	Again I swallowed hard as he hooked his finger in a
    "come here" gesture. I was shaking a little as I walked up
    to him and Nancy. He reached over and hooked his finger
    into the waistband of my boxers, and as he started to pull
    them down I snatched his wet towel off the counter and
    pulled it around me.
    	He clapped me gently on the ear, and Nancy said,
    "Bashful to the end, huh?" and I hated her for it. I got in
    the shower with my towel on, pulled the curtain closed, and
    threw the towel out over the top. I turned on the water and
    grabbed the soap.
    	"Nancy" I heard my dad say. "Help him wash, will you?"
    	"Dad!" I said, and convulsively doubled over, my hands
    down in front of my privates.
    	The curtain pulled slowly back and I shouted, "Get
    out!" but it was just my dad, smiling.
    	"Relax," he said. "She gone."
    	I stood up and looked at him angrily. "You don't care
    if I see you hanging out." It was a statement.
    	"No" I said. Why should I care? I thought.
    	"Well, until I'm better you might have to think of
    Nancy as dad, okay? I'm in agony right now son. I don't
    know if you can tell that, but I'm going to take another
    pain pill and try to get some sleep. I don't want you
    giving her any _s_h_i_t_ for the next few weeks, and I'm
    going to go tell her right now that I'll teach her how to
    warm your bare butt if you step out of line again. You got
    that?"
    	Tears welled up in my eyes -- which was humiliating
    all by itself -- but keeping them back I said, "That's not
    fair."
    	"You do as she says and you be POLITE and you won't
    have anything to worry about, okay?" He reached forward and
    patted my side. "I need your help, son," and I did notice
    then that the color had drained out of his face. I had
    never seen my dad in pain, and suddenly I just wanted to
    please him and make him feel better.
    	He turned away from me, grunting a little, and I put
    my hand on his good shoulder and said, "Dad?"
    	He looked at me over his shoulder and I said, "It'll
    be okay." He smiled at me then, and I felt better. I took
    my shower, watched TV with him until he fell asleep, and
    then I went up to my room, got in my bed and passed out
    until the next morning.

    Shane - Part 2

    	I woke up late the next day to Nancy knocking softly
    on my door. It was open, and she was standing in the
    doorway quietly calling my name. I immediately panicked as
    I felt the cold dampness at my crotch. It had happened
    again!
    	"Hey, sleepy head," she said. "What would you like for
    breakf -- " She must have seen the panic in my eyes because
    she broke off suddenly and said, "What's wrong?"
    	"Nothing." I lied.
    	"Yes there is," she said, looking serious. She walked
    over to me and as she sat on my bed next to me she said,
    "Do you feel -- oh!" and she jumped back up and looked at
    the wet spot on her dress. I tilted my head back and
    squeezed my eyes shut, mortified.
    	"Shane!" she said.
    	"I'm sorry" I said in a panicky voice.
    	"No" she said calmly. "No, it's okay. Do you -- have
    you done this before?" she asked awkwardly.
    	"No!" I said, indignantly, but it wasn't true. It had
    happened yesterday during my nap.
    	"Just an accident?" she asked.
    	"Please get out," I said, looking at the floor,
    ashamed.
    	She turned to leave, then stopped at the door and
    turned around. "Shane," she said. "Did this happen at the
    hospital, by any chance?"
    	"No" I said truthfully. "Just go away! Please!" I
    wasn't trying to make her mad like before, I was just so
    embarrassed to have her there.
    	"I'm sorry," she said. "I just wanted to make sure it
    wasn't related to the accident." I panicked more as she
    turned to leave the room. What if the doctors had missed
    something? What was wrong with me? They had been worried
    about internal injuries. I wanted my dad, but my dad was
    out of commission for now. I was thinking about what he had
    said when I was in the shower the night before. I didn't
    want to rely on Nancy, but I didn't see that I had any
    choice.
    	"Nancy," I called just as she walked out the door.
    	She walked back in and looked at me questioningly. I
    looked at the floor and whispered, "It happened yesterday."
    	"I can't hear you, honey" she said.
    	"It happened yesterday," I said louder.
    	Her face went dark, and she walked over to my bed and
    stared down at me. I was forced to crane my neck to look up
    at her. "When?" she asked sternly.
    	"After my nap." I said. "Or during. Whatever."
    	She reached out and stroked my hair. "Get up, Shane"
    she said.
    	I was wearing briefs and nothing else, and I was still
    under my covers when she said that.
    	"Now," she said, more sternly. I was afraid something
    was really wrong with me, and I didn't have it in me to
    argue with her just then. I pulled the covers back and we
    both saw the wide wet stain on my sheets. My shorts were
    almost see-through and it smelled bad.
    	"Stand up," she said. I got out of bed and she started
    pulling my sheets out from the corners of the bed. "Throw
    those onto the sheets and go take a shower," she said,
    nodding at my shorts. I gulped, and she looked up at the
    ceiling in disgust and turned her head away from me.
    	"Do it," she said, facing me but looking at my bed.
    	I quickly pulled them down, threw them on the bed, and
    ran for the bathroom. Even though she didn't see anything,
    it was still humiliating to be naked in the same room with
    her; worse because she was pulling out my wet bed sheets.
    	When I came into the kitchen for breakfast I couldn't
    look at her, and kept my eyes on the table or the floor.
    	She pulled up a chair next to me and said, "Look at
    me, Shane."
    	I did as she said and she reached forward and gently
    took both my hands in hers. "We're going to the doctor
    today," she said. Again, I felt my guts twist. What if they
    found something really wrong?
    	"I talked to him on the phone already, and he says
    it's probably not serious, but he has to see you. There's
    nothing to worry about yet, okay? Let's not worry about
    anything until after we've seen him."
    	"Come in here, son," I heard my dad say from the den
    which was just off the kitchen. I pulled my hands away from
    Nancy's without saying anything and went into sit with my
    dad.
    	"Over here" he said, indicating his side. He reached
    up and grabbed me by the back of my neck and kissed my
    forehead. "You'll be fine" he said. "I want you to do
    everything the doctor and Nancy tell you to do, okay?"
    	"Yes, sir" I said quietly.
    	"At a boy" he said, grinning. I felt better just then.
    	Nancy took me to the doctor and came with me into the
    examine room. She sat on a chair and I sat on the end of
    the exam table and the nurse took my vitals and then said,
    "Take off your shirt and your pants and the doctor will be
    right with you." She left, and I looked uncomfortably at
    Nancy.
    	She smiled warmly and said, "Got your boxers on?"
    	"Yeah," I said, resigned. I took off my shirt and
    pants and put them on the exam table, not as self-conscious
    as I was the day before. My boxers were pretty big, and I
    truthfully wasn't that embarrassed. It was a little bit
    awkward to hand her my clothes to hold for me, though. It
    made me feel more exposed handing them over like that, and
    sitting on the table with them so far away.
    	The doctor came in, made his introductions, and Nancy
    and I both told him what had happened.
    	"I see," he said. "Stand up for me, Shane, and let's
    pull these down a little bit." My heart started to race as
    I stood up. He reached for my waistband and I drew in a
    fast shaky breath as he pulled them down to my knees and
    told me to have a seat.
    	How much had she just seen? I wondered. I was sitting
    up on the table, and she was at my side sitting with her
    head about level with my crotch, maybe a little lower. I
    told myself she couldn't see anything but my public hair.
    It was so humiliating to sit there with my underwear around
    my knees, everyone's attention on my private area.
    	"Ah!" I gasped as the doctor gently grabbed my penis
    and lifted it up. I closed my eyes and swallowed hard
    because I knew that if my step mom couldn't already see me,
    she could with him manipulating me like that. He cupped my
    balls, pushed on my abdomen and kept asking, "Does that
    hurt? How about that? Here?"
    	I just kept shaking my head no, unable to speak for
    want of not wanting to cry.
    	"Okay," he said, kindly. "I need you to get up on the
    table on your hands and knees." I stood up awkwardly,
    unable to look in my step mom's direction. I turned my back
    to him and as I lifted my knee to get on the table he
    pulled my underwear down to my ankles and slid them
    completely off as I put both feet up on the table, leaving
    me in nothing but my socks.
    	"Hold these, please," he said to Nancy, handing her my
    boxers. I felt so completely exposed and humiliated. I was
    all but buck naked on my hands and knees in front of both
    of them. I thought I must look ridiculous up on the table
    like that with just my socks on. The doctor opened a drawer
    and said, "Darn it," and walked over and opened the door.
    "Beatrice, bring me some KY jelly, please" he said.
    	I turned my head over my shoulder that was away from
    my step mom to see what he was doing. He only cracked open
    the door a little as he talked to the nurse, and then
    closed it again. My heart was pumping hard as he did it,
    because I was afraid he would open the door wide and let
    everyone out there see me. I was only slightly relieved
    when he closed it again, and I looked straight ahead,
    struggling not to cry.
    	Then I heard the door open and I involuntarily leaned
    forward (like that was going to do any good) as I heard the
    nurse say, "Here you are, doctor." Her voice was right next
    to me. God! How many more people were going to see me like
    this? I wanted to die. Then I heard the door open and close
    again. I didn't think things could get any worse until I
    felt something cold on my butt crack that dripped down to
    my butthole.
    	"Hey!" I said, not meaning to speak and two tears
    rolled down my face. I didn't try to wipe them way because
    I didn't want them to know that it had happened, and my
    body shuttered when I felt the doctor touch my anus.
    	"Try to relax, Shane," he said. I arched my back and
    began to shake violently as his finger slid into me.
    	When I heard my step mom say, "Why don't you just put
    your head down and rest, Shane?" the tears flowed freely
    down my face and I did as she said. I had never been so
    humiliated in my life. I don't know what he was looking
    for, but he just kept sliding his finger in and out of me
    and turning it around sometimes.
    	"Does that hurt at all?" he asked me.
    	"No" I said, unable to keep the tears out of my voice.
    Now they knew I was crying, and I heard Nancy get up and a
    moment later her hand was on the back of my head. Even
    though she was trying to comfort me, it just made me feel
    more humiliated. I grunted as the doctor pulled his finger
    out of me. He patted my butt gently and said, "Let's let
    Shane get dressed, Mrs. Carver."
    	To me he said, "You come out to the corridor when
    you're ready, son."
    	They left -- again opening that _d_a_m_n_ door so that
    anyone who happened to be outside could see in -- and I got
    up off the table, pulled my boxers on, and then just lost
    it and bawled my head off as quietly as I could. I felt so
    -- so violated. I was better in a couple of minutes, and I
    blew my nose, finished getting dressed, and then
    contemplated going out into the hall.
    	They had all just seen me naked, and they knew I was
    crying, and I didn't want to go out there with red eyes. I
    finally just gave in and walked out into the corridor and
    up to the counter where my step mom and the doctor were
    talking. "Thank you," I heard her say as she took a large
    bag from him and shook his hand.
    	He walked over to me, put his hand on my shoulder, and
    said, "You're okay, son. Just a little bruised inside. You
    might have a couple more accidents, but it's nothing to be
    too worried about. If it happens again in a couple of weeks
    you give me a call, but I bet it doesn't."
    	I swallowed hard and nodded my head.
    	"What was in that bag?" I asked Nancy as we drove
    home.
    	She hesitated before answering me, then said, "Well,
    honey, you're not going to like it but I don't want to get
    in an argument with you."
    	Oh, God, I thought. What now?
    	"What is it?" I asked her, and when she paused again I
    leaned way back and reached down to where the bag was on
    the floor behind her. I pulled out the contents of the bag,
    and in a moment recognized them as giant diapers.
    	"What's this?!?" I asked her.
    	"They're for grown ups who can't control their
    bladders" she said evenly.
    	"I'm not wearing these," I said flatly.
    	"Shane," she said sternly, "I am not going to keep
    washing your pee-soaked sheets, and we're not spending
    money for a new mattress just so you don't have to be a
    little embarrassed. You're going to wear those, and I'm
    going to show you how to put them on properly so you don't
    leak out the sides."
    	"No arguments!" she said as I started to protest.
    	When we got to the house I jumped out of the car
    before the engine was even off and ran inside. My dad was
    still on the couch and I launched into a panicked version
    of the doctor's visit and what Nancy wanted me to do.
    	"Whoa, whoa, whoa" he said. "Slow down. You're not
    making any sense. Are you okay or not, son?" he said,
    reaching up and taking my hand.
    	"I'm fine!" I said as Nancy came in from the kitchen.
    	"He's not exactly fine," said Nancy and calmly
    explained the whole visit. I had to turn my head away from
    them when she started to describe in detail my examination.
    	"Come down here, son," he said, and I knelt beside
    him. He ran his hand through my hair and said, "Sounds like
    you've had an awful day." I leaned forward and put my head
    on his chest, but I didn't cry. We stayed like that for a
    minute, him stroking the back of my head, and when I could
    breathe evenly and was sure I could control myself I sat up
    and looked angrily over at Nancy.
    	"We might as well do this now," she said, pulling a
    diaper out of the bag the doctor had given her.
    	"No," I said, forcefully.
    	She shook her head and said, "I'm not going to argue
    with you, Shane," and she walked over and grabbed me by the
    arm.
    	"Get off," I said, trying to pull away from her.
    	"_d_a_m_n_ it, Shane!" she said, losing her temper all
    together. "I'm tired of this! Just do what I say!" I
    struggled some more, but she wouldn't let go.
    	I turned and pushed her with both my hands and said,
    "_f_u_c_k_ you!" and to my dismay and then my horror she
    went flying backward - and I mean flying -- and landed hard
    half on the floor and half on a chair.
    	"What the hell are you doing!?!" shouted my dad,
    struggling to sit up.
    	Nancy groaned and grabbed her back.
    	"Oh, God. I'm sorry. I'm sorry!" I said. I hadn't
    meant to do that. I was getting stronger every day it
    seemed, and I was proud of that, but right now I was scared
    of what I had just done.
    	"Nancy? Baby?" my dad sounded angry, scared, and in
    pain all at the same time.
    	"I'm okay," she whispered, and stood up.
    	"Come here," said my dad, swiping his hand at me, and
    I could see the rage in his eyes.
    	"I'm sorry! I didn't mean it, okay? It was an
    accident!" I said.
    	Nancy walked over to my dad, pushed him back onto his
    pillow, and said, "Bring me your father's hairbrush,
    Shane." Her eyes were cold and angry, and some part of me
    just knew without any doubt that no matter what I did or
    said in the next few minutes Nancy was going to paddle me.
    	"No!" I said, trying to sound strong.
    	"Shane," my dad started to growl.
    	"Dad, please" I said, more plaintively. I tried to not
    shout, and I couldn't keep the panic out of my voice. "It
    was an accident, okay? I'm sorry. I really am. It'll never
    happen again, swear to God."
    	"I'm going to make sure it never even occurs to you,
    Shane" said my step mom. Pointing to the doorway she said,
    "You bring me the hairbrush and be back here in just your
    boxers in less than a minute or you're getting it double.
    We're going to bring you down a peg if it's the last thing
    I do today."
    	I looked once more pleadingly at my dad, but he just
    said, "You do as you're told."
    	I stomped out of the room and into the bathroom. I
    hated the hairbrush. A feeling of dread came over me as I
    picked it up. I started to walk out of the room, and
    stopped again to take off my shirt and my pants. Nancy had
    already seen me the way she did at the doctor's office.
    Boxers were nothing now.
    	At least she won't be able to hit as hard as my dad, I
    thought. I resigned myself to my fate and walked back into
    the den, determined to take it like a man and show them I
    was too old for this kind of thing.
    	Glaring at Nancy I handed her the brush. She seemed
    taken aback for just a moment, then she sat up straight in
    her chair opposite my dad and said, "That's a better
    attitude. Are you ready to take your punishment?"
    	"Yes," I said, spitefully.
    	"And you know why you're being punished?" she asked.
    	"Just get on with it" I said, now feeling _c_o_c_k_y.
    How bad could this be? She was not a very big woman; skinny
    even.
    	Nodding her head up and down she said, "Fine. Get over
    my lap young man." As I bent forward she reached out and
    yanked my boxers down with one hand.
    	"Hey!" I said, but she caught my hair and continued to
    pull me forward. I couldn't get my balance and I ended up
    right over her lap, both hands on the floor with my face
    inches from the carpet. I felt my underwear being pulled
    farther down and I shouted, "Stop it! You can't!" but she
    just pulled them down and completely off. Once again I was
    wearing nothing but my socks, only this time the situation
    was much worse.
    	"Dad!" I shouted at him for help.
    	"Nancy's deciding your punishment, son. You take what
    you've got coming" he said.
    	When the first smack landed on my ass I couldn't
    believe how hard it was. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
    SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! She alternated back and forth from
    cheek to cheek. Ow! Ow! Ow! I started to yell, still
    determined not to cry.
    	SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
    SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! _d_a_m_n_ she could hit hard! I kept
    grunting or shouting "ow!" and she didn't let up for a
    second. The heat and the pain were almost unbearable as she
    continued to bring that _d_a_m_n_ thing down across my
    butt.
    	SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
    SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! I couldn't
    take it anymore. I couldn't stop myself from crying and as
    she continued to beat my ass I completely lost it and
    sobbed uncontrollably. She still didn't let up. SMACK!
    SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
    	I finally screamed, "I'M SORRY! I'LL BE GOOD! I'LL BE
    GOOD!!! PLEASE!!! NANCY! PLEASE!!! PLEASE!!!" SMACK! SMACK!
    SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! went the brush, and then she
    stopped and rested her hand on my ass. Even that slight
    pressure hurt, and I kept crying uncontrollably. She let me
    cry myself out, and when I started to calm down she said,
    "Are you ready for some more?"
    	I couldn't believe it! I couldn't take anymore. I just
    couldn't! "Oh, God! Please, Nancy! Please! No more! I'll be
    good! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! It'll never happen again,
    please!" I begged.
    	She gently rubbed my butt, which made it sting more,
    and said, "What's never going to happen again, Shane?"
    	"I'll never be bad again," I said, like I was a four
    year old or something.
    	"Stand up" she said, and I did so, facing her and
    holding my butt. I didn't care that I was completely
    exposed to her. My butt hurt so bad, and I was relieved
    that the punishment had stopped. She lectured me like that
    for a couple of minutes, and I just kept saying "Yes,
    Ma'am" to everything she said.
    	She quietly looked me up and down, and I could tell
    she was considering spanking me some more. More tears
    rolled down my face and I said, "Please no more, Nancy.
    Please. Please."
    	She looked at my dad and said, "We need something for
    him to call me. 'Mom' isn't right. I'm not trying to
    replace Debbie." she said. Looking at me she said, "But YOU
    had better behave yourself from now on, or you're going
    right over my knee again young man, you got that?"
    	"Yes, Ma'am!" I said.
    	She got up, walked over to the bag of diapers and told
    me to lay down on the floor on my back. I did as she said,
    wincing a little as my butt touched the carpet. Nancy
    grabbed a diaper, made me lift my bottom off the floor for
    a second, and then proceeded to put it on me. I didn't
    think it could be more humiliating than my spanking, but it
    was, and I had to turn my head away from her and my dad.
    When she was done she patted my stomach and told me to
    stand up.
    	I walked over and looked at myself in a mirror we had
    on one wall and slouched when I saw myself. I turned to my
    dad and gave him my most mournful and pleading look, but
    Nancy said, "I want you to go stand in that corner, Shane"
    she was pointing to the far corner of the room.
    	I did as I was told and she said, "You don't step away
    from there until I give you permission, you got that?"
    	"Yes, Ma'am" I said. "How long?" I asked, suddenly
    feeling the urge to pee.
    	"Until I say" she said. "Now keep quiet and show me
    you can be good."
    	"What if I need to use the bathroom?" I asked.
    	She laughed and said, "What do you think you're
    wearing that for?"
    	"This is just for sleep!" I said.
    	She walked over to me, her face just an inch near my
    shoulder and said, "Do you need more of this hairbrush,
    young man?"
    	"No, ma'am!" I said quickly.
    	"Then you pipe down and stand there until I tell you
    you're released" she said, and smacked my diapered butt
    once with her hand. I heard her leave the room, and I
    glanced nervously over my shoulder to make sure she wasn't
    there. My dad had passed out again from his pain pills. I
    gave in, hung my head, and cried.