Chapter Nineteen
“Are you having fun?” Teagan asked.
Dylan had just arrived back near the community center after chasing the Bears away. He was breathing pretty well, though some of the other Littles were clearly winded.
“So much fun!” he said.
Her heart was happy. But she hoped what was about to happen didn’t ruin his fun. He needed it, though.
Maybe she was wrong. Perhaps she’d check his diaper to find it soaked. She doubted that was the case, however.
“Come here, honey,” she said, motioning him to join her on the sidewalk. “Mommy needs to check your diapee.”
She wasn’t a bit shocked when Dylan froze in clear hesitancy. “Uh,” is all he managed to say.
Part of Teagan wanted to ease up. She didn’t want to humiliate her husband. But the other part knew this was exactly what he needed. He was doing a good job of falling into Little Space. Yet he wasn’t there completely. He needed her to firmly take control. They needed to build this trust and establish a clear dynamic.
That’s exactly what she was doing when she snapped her fingers and said, “Little boy, don’t make me tell you again. Come to Mommy. I’m going to check your diaper.”
To his credit, he didn’t protest. He trudged slowly to her and accepted his fate.
She checked the back and then the front. Just as she had suspected, he didn’t need changed.
He needed spanked.
“Come with me, little boy.”
“But—”
“No arguing,” she said, snapping her fingers again.
That got his attention. He hung his head, groaned, and mumbled, “Yes, ma’am,” as she took hold of his elbow and guided him inside the community center.
The other Littles tried to act casual, but they all felt for the guy. They’d been there, too. Some of them that very day. Such was life for submissive Littles.
Dylan was embarrassed as Mommy led him past the Bigs and into a side room. He didn’t protest, though. It was obvious Teagan had made up her mind.
It was obvious he was about to take a hard and well-deserved spanking.
***
“Ouch!” Dylan cried.
His voice echoed off the walls.
Teagan had brought him into a small conference room. There were a few chairs and tables and a whiteboard, and it was normally used for various town committee meetings. This wasn’t the first time, though, it had been used for disciplinary purposes. They were in Mountainville, after all.
Teagan was standing behind him as he was bent over the table, his sweats and diaper down around his knees. His hands were pressed against the wood surface, palms flat.
"You're in for it, little boy. But it's your own fault," she said.
She was wielding a heavy wooden spoon that Nancy had given her. Nancy had to carry it around, thanks to Eli's routinely naughty behavior, and she'd been more than happy to fish it out of her purse for Teagan.
"What did Mommy say? What are you supposed to do when she puts you in diapers?" Teagan prompted.
It took Dylan a moment to answer, but finally, reluctantly, he said, "I'm supposed to use my diaper, ma'am."
"That's right," Teagan said. "But instead, you've been sneaking to the big boy potty and lying about it. Isn't that right?"
"Yes, ma'am."
Teagan shook her head, giving a "Tsk, tsk," before saying, "And now that little bottom of yours is going to pay the price. Hold still. This is going to hurt, honey. But you need to learn."
She tapped the spoon against her palm for another moment as she sized him up, thinking of her plan of attack. She then zeroed in on where she wanted to start—where his bottom met the upper part of his legs—and let loose with a dreadful torrent of swats that had him whimpering.
"Please, Mommy. Please! Stop!"
"Nope. Not yet," she said, her voice firm and stern. "Little boys who disobey Mommy face consequences. The sooner you learn that the easier things will be.”
He moaned and his toes curled inside his sneakers. The pain was searing and he could feel his eyes already growing damp.
"Ow, ow, ow, owwww!" he cried. He bent at his knees and bounced back up, trying to steel himself against the painful inferno.
For a moment, Mommy slowed down and he thought perhaps the punishment was over.
He was wrong.
She was just resting her hand before she continued again. It turned out Round Two was even worse than the first one had been.
He yelped and begged and kicked his legs, his movements awkward with the sweats and diapers around his knees, but Teagan wasn't swayed by his cries.
"I'm not done with your behind, young man," she warned.
He hung his head. The dam was going to break. He couldn’t hold back the tide any longer. He started to cry, the tears falling to the table and splashing on the glossy sheen. He sobbed for a moment and was surprised to find it felt…good…to cry.
He cried even harder as the emotional release swept over him. It was as if a huge weight had been lifted. He didn’t love the spanking by any means. His bottom had been set ablaze in a raging fire! But he loved the escape it was giving him.
He had an excuse to feel his emotions. To actually show them.
It was wonderful.
Teagan knew it was just what her husband needed. She continued to pepper his bottom with crisp swat after crisp swat, giving him exactly what he deserved.
Finally, she began to taper the spanking before bringing it to a halt. The spoon clanked loudly against the table as she placed it down. She then grabbed Dylan by the arm and gently spun him around. She looked into his wet eyes and caressed his tear-stained cheeks as she spoke sweetly.
“I don’t like busting your bottom, honey. But Mommy had to teach you a lesson.”
He sniffled, open his mouth to speak, but only sobbed.
“There, there, lovie. Come to Mommy.” She wrapped her arms around him, held him tight, and gently swayed as his head rested on her shoulder. “You’re a good boy. You just made some bad choices. I expect better of you in the future. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Mommy,” he said.
She kissed his forehead. “Good boy. Now, let’s go back in there and—” She stopped speaking with a gasp.
Dylan was pulled from the moment, now worried about his wife. “What’s wrong?” he said.
She looked down at her chest and then back up at him. But his eyes had fallen to her breasts, too, and the growing wet rings on her shirt.
“We need to hurry back to the house,” she said. She tugged his diaper and sweats back up and then took hold of his hand.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
She grinned, sighing in satisfaction, before delivering the news she’d been waiting months to proclaim.
“My milk has come in.”