However much twelve-year-old Kevin Marshall and his ten-year-old brother Nathan longed for their no-longer-enjoyable Sunday excursion to be over, it was not to happen soon.
Kevin was mortified to be sitting in the car, riding along without pants but otherwise fully dressed. Darn, he hadn't seen anyone older than five years old going around in public like this, and here he was--at 12--having to spend the rest of the day in underpants. Funny thing about it (funny-strange, not funny-ha-ha) having his shirt, socks and shoes on too did not make it less embarrassing, but somehow more so: It made it look as though he was USED to going around like this--as though he LIKED going around like this. And while he did sometimes lounge around the house in a shirt and underpants in the evening during the half hour between his bath and bedtime or sometimes just after he got up on Saturday mornings, it was never with socks and shoes on too. That made him look and feel too much like a dumb little kid who dressed himself but forgot to put on his pants--the most important thing of all--and THAT was really dumb!
Worse still, they had had to get out of the car back at the gas station, and everybody had noticed him. He had seen their stares, their furtive grins... And worst of all had been that man patting him on his underweared butt in the bathroom and saying "Excuse me," as if he hadn't meant to do it (Yeah, really!) But he knew--oh, how he knew!--better than to complain to Mom or Dad: they let him know that things could ALWAYS be worse. Yeah, and they had a knack for making it so!
Nathan, sitting on the other side of the long back (actually middle) seat felt even more chagrinned, being without underpants as well, particularly so that it was partly by his own doing. After all, if he hadn't wet his clothes, he would probably have been allowed to put his underpants on again like Kevin. Who knows? Since he hadn't struggled or tried to cover his bottom during the spanking, he might even have been allowed to get fully dressed again. But then he had gone and pissed himself. Oh. the shame! And then having to walk around at the gas station like that! Kevin didn't know what embarrassment was!
As they drove down the highway through the American heartland, passing rich fields and poor sharecropper shacks, Mr. Marshall felt a deep sense of self-satisfaction. After all, hadn't he come from surroundings no less humble than these? Now here he was, a respected businessman with a six-figure salary, a two-story home in the city, a loyal wife and two obedient sons, and even this fine, new RV! Yessir. he had done well in this world, and no sir, he didn't have a whole lot of sympathy for the poor slobs who had stayed in the rut they were born in. Any man who couldn't get what he wanted, obviously didn't deserve it!
His wife was speaking. "Dear, it's almost threethirty. Hadn't we better be heading back to town?"
"Right," he answered, then asked, "Say, didn't you pack some sandwiches and a jug of lemonade? I thought we agreed we'd have a little picnic?"
"Well, of course I brought the things you asked," she answered, then added tentatively, gesturing toward their sons in the back seat, 'but do you think we still should... since they...?"
"You mean, the way they are right now?"
"Yes, dear."
Mrs. Marshall was alluding to the fact that neither boy was fully dressed. After the long, spanking they had gotten an hour ago, Kevin's pants were off, and his younger brother, who had accidentally wet himself, was without underpants as well. Even though they had gotten out of the van in that state of attire to use the restroom at a gas station, Mrs. Marshall felt dubious about the prospect of her sons venturing pantless (and in Nathan's case, bare-bottomed) into the countryside. However, in this as in all other matters over the course of their marriage, she had learned to defer to her husband's judgment, stern though it often was.
"No matter," he answered. "If they don't want to reap thistles, then they'd better learn not to sow them. As for the picnic, we planned on having one, so we're going to have one. That includes the boys too, pants or no pants."
Almost as if a genie had heard his words, within minutes they came upon a tidy, shady roadside park with two concrete tables, each with two concrete and wood benches. Glumly but without protest, Kevin and Nathan got out of the van and helped their parents carry the picnic basket and large thermos jug of lemonade to an empty table. Of course--to the boys' incalculable relief--ALL the tables and benches were empty. They were the only people in sight, and the boys fervently hoped that that's how it would stay until they left.
It didn't. They had scarcely been there five minutes, had just poured and served everyone's lemonade, and were taking the first bites of their sandwiches, when a Chevy Blazer rolled up, parked, a family of four got out. The parents looked looked to be in their late thirties or early forties like Mr. and Mrs. Marshall, and the children, both boys, seemed about the same respective ages as Kevin and Nathan. The Marshall brothers' initial panic and mortification at the prospect of being seen in their own immodest state was suddenly tempered by a curious realization: Although the older boy in the other family was fully dressed, the boy Nathan's age was in a state somewhat different from but no less embarrassing than theirs: Not only was he without pants, he was wearing diapers! Old-fashioned fluffy, white, cotton diapers, snugly pinned in place at the sides with safety pins!
To Kevin's and Nathan's amazement, their parents and the adults introduced themselves at once and were soon chatting like long lost friends. That was OK maybe, but they also wanted their kids, who had never met before now, suddenly to take up with each other as though THEY had known each other for ages. This family was the Crosbys. The blond boy who seemed Kevin's age but was actually 11, was named Jimmy. His brown-haired younger brother was called Deke.
The Crosbys were going to grill burgers and hot dogs. They invited the Marshalls to join them. The Marshalls accepted, and in turn each gave one half of his sandwich and a paper cup of lemonade to a member of the Crosby family so that everyone had something to eat and drink while the charcoal was lit and made ready in the grill. And of course the new family's arrival changed the configuration so that the adults would sit at one table, the children at the other.
Among the latter group, Jimmy, at once conscious of--but not at all tactful about--the fact that he was the only boy fully dressed, bluntly stated, "With my brother it's obvious, but how come you guys don't have any pants on?"
Nathan showed his bottom, now only rather pink, but enough so to leave no doubt what it had been subjected to. At once Jimmy nodded sympathetically.
"Uh-huh," he said. "I figured it must be something like that. Our old man gives us lickings on the bare sometimes, but he's never made me go bare-bottomed afterward, at least not for long and never outside. I hope he doesn't get any ideas now!"
"Well, he probably would have let Nathan put on his underpants again, except they got all wet when Nathan peed in his pants." Kevin said with a gleeful grin at his brother's embarrassment. Then he added, "Hey Nate and leaky Dekey ought to get to be good friends--they have so much in common!"
"Kevin, don't!" Nathan yelled in protest.
"Hey, you boys!" Mr. Marshall yelled in warning to them: " Don't give each other or me any trouble. Or I'll give you more than you can forget for a long time, understand?"
"Yes, sir." both Marshall boys answered automatically.
No longer yelling, but speaking firmly to his peer group, little Nathan asserted: "Look, I just had to go to the bathroom and Dad didn't let me in time, so I wet my pants. It hasn't happened to me since I was four years old until today. I swear, it's the only time I've wet my pants in years, and I never wet the bed!"
"It's OK," Jimmy said. "I believe you. It's not like my little brother. Deke here is hopeless. Ten years old and still walking around in double diapers like a one-year-old. For a while--when he was seven---we thought he was toilet trained, at least during the daytime (he'd ALWAYS wet the bed if he wasn't double-diapered at night!)--but then he again started peeing and pooping in his pants in the daytime. That's when Mom and Dad decided to put him back into diapers full time and not to waste any more money on pants or underwear for him. The really weird thing is, I think he LIKES it. You do, don't you, Deke?"
His younger brother smiled a tight, guilty, embarrassed smile, but said nothing--at least not with his mouth. The opposite end of his GI tract, however made quite a bit of noise, as he suddenly farted quite loudly. That was immediately followed by the sound (and smell) of a substantial bowel movement.
"See, this is what I mean," Jimmy explained (as if explanation were still necessary!). "He doesn't just pee in his diapers--he craps in 'em too. And guess who has to clean it all up?"
"Doesn't your Mom?" asked Nathan.
"Yeah, but she makes Dad and me take turns with him too."
Suddenly Deke spoke up: "Yeah, Jimmy, and it's your turn now. I really need a change. My diaper's poopy."
"You little _s_h_i_t_!" Jimmy answered in exasperation.
"MOMMY! DADDY!" the younger brother now wailed, red-faced. "Jimmy called me THAT WORD!"
Faster than any of the Marshalls would have thought possible, Mr. Crosby had closed the distance between the adults and the children and was all over Jimmy in fury.
"Boy, haven't I told you NEVER to use that kind of language, especially to your own brother! You're going to pay for that, and I mean big time!"
Instinctively the three other boys had backed away to the other side of the table, leaving the entire bench to Jimmy and his father. The next minute, Mr. Crosby, seated on the bench, was undoing Jimmy's white tennis shorts and pulling them down. In the same motion he pulled down the boy's Hanes white cotton briefs.
"No, Daddy! Please don't spank me, not on the bare bottom! Not out here in front of everyone! Please!" Jimmy knew, though, that he had no chance of dissuading his father. Even as he protested, his treble voice sounded hopeless, half-hearted, perfunctory.
Not so, however, the howls that the boy emitted as the father's broad, rough palm struck hard and repeatedly the eleven-year-old's soft but firm little bubble-butt.
SMACK! -- OWW!
SMACK! -- OWWW!
SMACK! -- OWW! OWW! OWWW!!
SMACK! SMACK SMACK --- OWIE! OWIE! OWIE!
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! WWWAAAAHHHHH!!!
After ten minutes Jimmy was limp and his face wet with tears. His cries and protests had become incoherent and almost inaudible. Even so, Mr. Crosby still took off his belt and finished off the spanking with ten sound blows of the leather on Jimmy's already well-reddened behind.
Although Jimmy's briefs were still at the top of his thighs, his tennis shorts, which had been dropped to the boy's ankles before the punishment began, had been kicked off in the course of the spanking. After dancing around
In agony and rubbing his little glowing globes frantically for about five minutes to assuage the excruciating ache effected by his punishment, Jimmy at last composed himself and pulled up his underpants When he thought to retrieve his shorts, however, he was chagrinned to see that they were not on the bench or the ground, but in his father's left hand--and the man was walking away back to the other table.
Not knowing what else to do, Jimmy ran up to his father and hugged him, silently asking for affection and forgiveness. Mr. Crosby responded affirmatively by running his fingers through his son's lovely blond hair and patting him on the shoulder.
"Ah, Daddy..." Jimmy began tentatively.
"Yes, Son?"
"You've got my pants in your hand."
"That's right."
"Well..."
"Well, what?"
"Well, aren't you gonna let me have 'em?"
"What for?"
"To put on."
"No, I don't think so."
"But, Daddy, I can't go around without pants."
"Yes, you can. All the other boys are. Why should you be the exception?"
"But, Dad, what am I gonna do?"
"I think you're going to go change Deke's diaper. And make sure you clean him up really well with the Handiwipes, and put plenty of lotion and powder on him, so he won't get a rash. Understand?"
"Yes, Daddy," Jimmy answered, not happy but resigned to his fate.
As he took the diaperkit from his father and turned around and walked back to do as instructed, his father could not help noticing how well the snug snow-white briefs accentuated the handsome shape of his son's well-formed thighs and buttocks. And to think that boys were now being pressured to wear those hideous ugly shapeless boxer shorts! Well, it would be a cold day in hell before his son Jimmy ever would. There ought to be a law against such opportunism in the fashion world. If not, those obscene panderers ought to be lynched, or at least publicly flogged!
After Deke's diapers were changed, the Marshalls and the Crosby grilled their burgers and hotdogs, and the rest of their picnic proceeded uneventfully. The only other development was that Nathan did not have to ride home bare-bottomed after all, since Mrs. Crosby had plenty of extra diapers and pins. And as strange as it felt to Nathan to have one of Deke's clean, fluffy, white cotton diapers snugly fitted and pinned in place on him, it was a whole lot better than riding with the skin of his sore, spanked bottom directly in contact with the vinyl upholstery of the car seat.
Maybe with a little luck, by the time they got home it would be dark and Kevin and Nathan could slip into the house before anyone in the neighborhood-- especially any of the other kids--saw the two brothers without their pants on. Otherwise, there would be no end to the teasing they would get!