James Daycare

“Ugh… Why are we stopping?”

Amy made no effort to mask her annoyance as she leaned one arm on the guardrail and placed the opposite hand against her hip before turning to face her stepbrother, who had slowed his pace to a crawl beside her.

The painful fullness in Danny’s bladder caused him to involuntarily bend forward the moment they stopped moving, so that when he met her piercing gaze, he was looking slightly up at her.

“I…” Danny shut his eyes, squeezed his legs together, and swallowed hard. “I have to pee. Really bad.”

Amy heaved a sigh of exasperation.

“Seriously?! You’re telling me this now? I already asked you if you needed to go before we left the last store, and now the restrooms are all the way on the other side of the mall! Why didn’t you say anything when you had the chance?”

“I didn’t think I needed to go then,” Danny lied. Of course, he’d been fully aware of his growing need a half an hour earlier, before they’d stopped for lunch in the food court, and before he’d stupidly added another 24-ounce soft drink on top of the one that he’d gulped down at the start of their little outing.

Danny knew that he should have taken advantage of the opportunity to go when Amy pointed out the restrooms in Macy’s, but he didn’t realize that it would get so urgent so fast. Then again, he might not have spoken up even if he had known, because the bigger problem was that it had made him feel like a child, being asked out of the blue whether he needed to relieve himself.

When he’d answered no, it had been pure reflex, without reflection – a way of signaling, “I’m an adult. I can control myself. You don’t need to ask me.” And that reflex was made all the more powerful by the fact that the person asking was barely two years older than him, and practically a stranger.

Even though she was technically his family now, Amy had been away at college for most of their parents’ whirlwind romance, and Danny had only met her in passing before her mother married his father. Now, Danny was preparing to go off to college himself, but Amy was back in town for the summer, and the two of them were staying in the same home, getting to know each other and trying to get along as siblings.

That was a lot easier said than done, not least of all because, at 18 years old, Danny was still ruled by his hormones and just couldn’t switch off the instantaneous attraction he’d felt for Amy, no matter how much he told himself it was inappropriate. That attraction made him desperate to impress her, to demonstrate him maturity, to show that he was on her level even though he was still living at home with his dad.

“Come here,” Amy commanded, removing her hand from her hip to grab her stepbrother by the crook of the elbow and guide him in taking tiny, shuffling steps over to the guardrail. That allowed Danny to continue leaning forward to take some of the pressure off of his bladder, without standing awkwardly in the middle of the upper level’s walkway, drawing attention to himself.

Danny stared down at the churning sea of shoppers below, biting his lips and breathing erratically with growing panic in his eyes. His stepsister took her place beside him and joined in leaning over the guardrail to pretend like the two of them were just resting and having a casual conversation.

“Okay, so explain this to me, little bro. How do you go from not needing to use the bathroom at all to looking like you’re about to piss your pants in, what, twenty minutes?

Danny merely continued chewing his lips and cast her a sheepish, sidelong glance, then turned his eyes back toward the lower level before forcing himself to respond.

“I mean… I didn’t know I needed to go that bad.”

“Uh huh…” Amy replied, sounding unconvinced and unimpressed. “And you’ve been potty trained for how long now? You can’t feel what’s going on inside your body and tell yourself, ‘Maybe I should go now, just to be on the safe side’?”

Danny said nothing and continued staring into space. Her words and her impatient tone cut into his ego and prompted him to squeeze his legs together even harder. A tremor ran up his spine as he did so, and Amy noticed him leaning more heavily on the railing and gasping with the effort of keeping his pants dry.

“Jesus… You are eighteen fucking years old.” Amy kept her voice to a whisper, but the unrestrained derision struck Danny’s ear as if she were shouting. “You are technically an adult at this point. How is it possible that I’m getting a new sibling at this age and this is the sort of thing I have to deal with. I thought I was just supposed to be hanging out with you today, not babysitting you.”

“I’m sorry,” Danny whimpered after a long pause filled with a series of shaky breaths. “This doesn’t usually happen. I just…”

“Oh, bullshit!” Amy interrupted. “You think my mom and I don’t talk about you? You think she hasn’t told me about your little problems?”

Danny winced at the remark, then winced harder at the twinge from his bladder. His whole body tingled with embarrassment and he could feel his cheeks growing flushed. He cast a pleading look to his stepsister and then glanced nervously around to see if anyone had heard, or if anyone was looking.

A long series of mortifying interactions replayed in Danny’s head, beginning with the first time his stepmother caught him stuffing his wet sheets, with their distinct aroma, into the washing machine, and continuing through to the painful conversation they’d had in his bedroom, in which he begged her not to tell his father or any of his friends. At the time, it hadn’t even occurred to him to ask that she not say anything to her own daughter, either.

Danny’s voice was nearly choked with tears as he whined back at his stepsister, “That’s different. I don’t know why it started happening after your mom moved in. But I can’t help it.”

“Wait, do you think I’m just talking about the bedwetting?” Amy asked, before leaning very close to her stepbrother, staring intently into his eyes, and lowering her voice. “Did you forget that she does your laundry now?”

Every muscle in Danny’s body seemed to involuntarily tense up, so that he felt as if he were shrinking into a compressed ball of nerves with his bladder at its center. He quickly glanced around again and, despite the crowd of potential witnesses, surreptitiously allowed a hand to slip below the guardrail and grab hold of his groin.

Danny knew that his stepmom had caught onto his bedwetting before she sat him down and confronted him about it. But somehow, he’d managed to convince himself that he’d kept the other sporadic mishaps a secret. It was clearly wishful thinking, since, despite his pretensions of maturity, he never took any real precautions beyond burying his damp or skid-marked underwear in the hamper and hoping they’d vanish into the washing machine without being noticed.

“It’s not what…” Danny began to protest, but then stopped short to stifle a sob, while squeezing the head of his penis a little more tightly through his khaki pants. His opposite elbow remained planted on the guardrail, and Danny slowly pitched forward until his lips came in contact with his free hand, and his front teeth bit down on his thumbnail, just to give him something else to focus on.

“Oh my god, are you sucking your thumb right now?” Amy whispered. Danny could feel her breath in his ear as she did so, and it sent a shiver through his body before he could respond.

“No!” he exclaimed while his hand remained poised before his lips.

“This is so pathetic. You know, I was actually kind of looking forward to having a little brother. And when I heard you were about to go to college too, I thought, ‘Cool, I get to skip all that gross, annoying little kid stuff and go right to having a sibling that I can give dating advice and help learn to be an adult.’ But now it turns out that you’re not ready for that, are you? You’re so immature that you still wet your pants.”

A pitiful groan settled in Danny’s throat by way of response. At the same time, he felt a sinking sensation in his abdomen which proceeded down the length of his penis and coaxed a few drops of urine out of the tip. Recognizing immediately that he was powerless to stop the leak, Danny loosened his grip and pulled the fabric of his pants forward, so that it was not in contact with his underwear, then tensed his pelvic muscles as hard as he could, in hopes of minimizing the damage.

A warm sensation lingered at the tip of his penis, leaving little doubt that his childish briefs were now damp. The tiny crack in his bladder’s dam was enough to make his urgency even more intense, but Danny knew that he couldn’t resume squeezing his crotch without risking that the moisture would seep through. He couldn’t be sure that it wouldn’t do so anyway, or that it hadn’t already, but he was rapidly running out of options for avoiding disaster, so he allowed the fabric to slip from his fingers and hoped for the best.

Naturally, Danny wanted to check whether there was a dark spot that would be visible to passersby whenever he turned away from the guardrail. But he restrained himself from looking, for fear that strangers would recognize what he was doing and follow his eyes down to check the area for themselves.

His concerns had no effect on Amy, who let her own gaze drift down to her stepbrother’s crotch after she registered the panic in his eyes and noticed both his hands move to exert a vice grip on the guardrail while he straightened his posture slightly and pulsed his hips so that he was practically humping the air.

Danny noticed her looking him over and hoped that if there was a wet spot on his crotch, she’d help him out by letting him know.

Amy gave no indication that she was aware of his leak, but it was clear that she could tell he was on the verge of losing all control. She heaved a heavy sigh and rolled her eyes before addressing him again.

“So, what do you want to do, here? There are some stores up ahead that might have a bathroom, but I don’t know.”

“Can you find out for me? Please, Amy?” Danny pleaded, then winced when she laughed sharply in response.

“Fuck that! What is it you want me to do? Leave you here dancing around like an idiot in front of everyone while I search for a bathroom, then come back here, take you by the hand, and lead you there, all before you end up pissing yourself? No, if you want to know where the nearest restrooms are, you’re going to ask yourself. You can pick a store, walk in, find an employee – it might even be a girl you went to high school with – and tell them, ‘I’m about to pee in my pants like a four-year-old. Do you have a potty I can use?’ You might want to try not holding your crotch while you do it, though. I’d hate for her to call security and have you thrown out. Then I’d have to spend the rest of my life as the stepsister of the kid who got banned from the mall for jacking off in public.”

Danny didn’t need Amy’s vivid narrative in order to decide that wandering around looking for a toilet was not something he wanted to do in his present condition. But to his surprise and chagrin, Danny ended up feeling somewhat grateful to his stepsister for being so mean about his ordeal, because for reasons he couldn’t immediately comprehend, his dick started getting hard in response to the verbal abuse and the images it conjured, and the partial erection made it just a little bit easier for him to hold back his piss.

Danny’s arousal blurred the line between a whimper and a moan when he shook his head in response to Amy’s unserious suggestion.

Amy screwed up her face in confusion at his response, but pressed onward anyway: “Don’t like that option? Okay, then, we’re going to have to walk to the main restrooms, and like I said, they’re all the way downstairs on the other side of the mall. Do you think you can hold it until we get there?”

Danny said nothing, but pushed himself off from the railing and wheeled toward his stepsister in an effort to start moving toward the goal she’d identified. Amy caught him by the arm and physically guided him to turn the other way, holding him close enough to clearly discern each of his short, panicky gasps.

“The escalator is this way,” she explained, then proceeded to practically drag him along the concourse while he shuffled behind her, still half bent over, both at the insistence of his bladder and in fear of revealing his hard-on.

Danny struggled to keep up for twenty yards or so, then pulled free from his stepsister’s grasp and draped himself over the railing again, breathing sharply through his teeth focusing all of his effort on keeping his bladder’s sphincter closed.

“Are you kidding me? The escalator is right over there,” Amy said impatiently.

“I know,” Danny replied, shutting his eyes tightly for a moment before meeting her eye. “I can’t. I just… I need a minute.”

While Danny stared down at the lower level with tears welling up in his eyes, his stepsister stood nearby, watching with mortification as strangers from all walks of life streamed by and cast occasional glances as the other young adult who stood marching in place, swiveling his hips, and intermittently grabbing and kneading his crotch.

“He’s fine,” Amy proclaimed in response to a questioning glance from one woman in her thirties. “Nothing to see here,” she said to brush off a boy about the same age as her. “He’s just… stupid,” she added to a group of girls who were already whispering among themselves as they approached the scene, then burst into laughter at the remark.

Although Danny never turned to face those witnesses directly, his face turned beet red with the knowledge of their scrutiny, and the sound of laughter caused another momentary leak to escape into his underpants. Danny thought he heard the sounds of more than one camera shutter before that laughter faded into the distance, and as soon as it did, he mustered his strength and pushed off from the railing again to resume staggering toward the escalator.

He covered half the remaining distance before he was forced to stop again, and Amy once again took it upon herself to run interference for him, making no secret as to the nature of his ordeal but discouraging people from staring too openly or for too long.

As Danny tried to push through the final paces to the top of the escalator, he noticed several pairs of eyes dropping to his crotch, some of which proceeded to spring open wide with expressions of shock. As much as he tried to tell himself that he was reading too much into it, he knew that he was now sporting a visible wet patch, and possibly a visible erection pressing against it.

Reasoning that there was no longer any use in discretion, Danny clamped his hand over his crotch while following his stepsister around the bend that led to the escalators. No sooner had he done so than he felt a series of pulses releasing small spurts of urine directly into his hand. The wet patch underneath grew past the reach of his fingers, and then Danny felt the supremely unusual sensation of shuddering with shame and defeat while still forcing himself to keep rushing forward.

As her stepbrother gradually lost control behind her, Amy continued moving toward the escalator casually, even disinterestedly, making little effort to check whether he was keeping up with her, much less to take notice of the increasingly long spurts of urine that he was releasing into his pants. By the time she mounted the escalator ahead of him, Danny’s hand was desperately clutching the center of near-perfect circle of wet fabric about the size of a dinner plate.

Amy only turned her attention back toward him when she heard a sort of guttural, sobbing moan a few feet behind her. With the escalator descending, her eyes were just at the level of his groin when Danny lost what remained of his control. The circle of wetness widened to cover the whole of his lap, and piss streamed down both of his thighs, reaching his ankles almost instantly. Cascades from each inseam branched off into rivulets filling the metal slats of the step that he’d mounted just an instant before the dam burst.

It was as if his body had decided that the escalator was the final destination and that it simply would not strain to hold back the flood a moment longer than it took him to reach it.

Amy threw her head back and closed her eyes to let forth a heavy, exasperated sigh, which quickly turned into an acerbic laugh.

“Unbelievable,” she said before looking into his watery, stunned, and pleading eyes. She then leaned over so that she was looking past him and back toward where they’d come from, to address a couple who had arrived at the escalator just behind them and was now hesitating to step on while whispering to each other and staring down at the puddle that seeped into the machinery. “Sorry. It’s my stepbrother. We just met, so I didn’t realize he was a fucking toddler.”

As she viciously punched those last two words, she fixed her sights back on Danny’s face and watched him once again press his thumb to his lips and moan, “I’m sorry.”

The pathetic display elicited pangs of sympathy from the young woman, but before she could consider softening her demeanor, a voice called out from the adjacent up escalator.

“Amy?”

Looking past her stepbrother again, a rye smirk spread across her lips and she raised a hand in greeting. “Monica! Stay right there; we’re coming back around.”

Amy stepped off at the bottom of the escalator and grabbed her stepbrother by the arm again while he was doing the same. She immediately moved to step onto the escalator going in the opposite direction, only to feel Danny pulling against her.

“Come on,” she commanded.

Dan shook his head while staring at her with wide eyes and lips slightly parted. He remained there at the base of the escalators until the couple from the upper level reached the ground floor and slipped past him, cringing openly as they each cast a conclusive glance at his sodden khakis and the thin trail of urine that was still snaking across the floor beneath them.

“Sorry again,” Amy said as they passed, and was answered with another, more performative cringe and a shrug of resignation. She then regarded her stepbrother severely and repeated, more firmly, “Come on.”

“No,” Danny whined. “You said the bathroom was down here… I need to go to the bathroom.”

“For what?!” she demanded loudly enough to draw the attention of several people who had not previously noticed Danny’s accident.

While Danny chewed more aggressively on the tip of his thumb, Amy kept hold of his other arm and guided him to a space between the escalator and a support column, where they were slightly shielded from view. She proceeded to grasp his wrist, physically move his hand away from his mouth, and then hold him by both arms while staring into his teary eyes and preparing him for a well-deserved lecture.

“Danny, step-bro, listen: You just pissed your fucking pants. Look at yourself. There is literally no point going to the bathroom at this point. Unless you think you’re going to shit yourself, too. Is that it?”

Danny frantically shook his head no, feeling as mortified by the mere suggestion as he was by what had just happened.

“You better be telling me the truth this time,” Amy said.

Danny’s vigorous head-shaking gave way to equally vigorous nodding, which his stepsister took as a signal to go on.

“Okay. Then literally why the fuck do you want to walk all the way back across the mall to the bathroom? Everyone can see that you pissed yourself. You understand that, right? Everyone. You’re wearing fucking khakis. And great choice, by the way. I mean, it’s not like you could have hidden this…” Amy gestured exaggeratedly at the state of his pants. “But you must have known that something like this could happen, and you decided to wear clothes that would pretty much show off every little drop. Did you want to humiliate me? Is that it?”

Danny resumed vigorously shaking his head and began raising his hand back to his mouth, before Amy slapped it down.

“You are eighteen fucking years old,” Amy said slowly and quietly. “Obviously, I expect my eighteen-year-old stepbrother to not wet his pants; but if it’s going to happen, you should at least be capable of figuring out how to deal with it. What do you think you’re going to do, dry all of this up with paper towels? Or the hand dryer? How long do you think that’s going to take?”

Danny hung his head and shrugged. Amy rolled her eyes before continuing.

“No. Unless you want to squelch your way all the way home like that, we need to go and buy you new pants now. And maybe new shoes, as well. So, come on.”

Without giving him time to protest any further, Amy grabbed hold of Danny’s hand and dragged him onto the up escalator, where she carried on berating him until her friend came into view at the top.

“You know, when we talked about this little shopping trip, we said that you were going to help me pick out some cute outfits for when I go back to school. But now, congratulations, you made it all about you. Is this really the sort of thing my mom has to put up with all the time?”

Standing behind her and absorbing this abuse, Danny seized the opportunity to look behind them and make sure no one was following them up, then turn toward the escalator’s outer barrier and reach into his pocket in a shameful effort to readjust his cock. In his mind, he begged for it to go down and struggled to understand why being lectured by his stepsister in this way had made him harder than he’d ever been before.

As Amy stepped off the escalator and called out to her friend again, Danny instinctively tried following close enough behind her to hide himself from view.

When Amy noticed this, she wheeled around and raised a corrective finger between them. “Don’t be rude. This is my old friend from high school, and I want you to say hi. We’re going to the same college now, so it’s a pretty crazy coincidence that we would run into each other right now, of all times.”

Amy had turned to face Monica before she finished speaking. “Isn’t it?” she added.

“Yeah, totally,” Monica said, giggling and shifting her eyes as if too embarrassed for Danny to look directly at him.

“Remember how I said my mom got married recently?” Amy asked. “Well, this is Danny, and apparently he’s my new baby stepbrother.”

‘Heeey, Danny,” Monica said uncertainly, before finally looking him up and down, then turning back to Amy, lifting a hand to shield her mouth, and saying… “Is he…?”

“No, he’s not special needs, as far as I know, but yes, he did piss his pants on the escalator just now.”

“Yeah, no, I saw that… I mean, is he…?”

Monica pointed squarely at the unmistakable tent in Danny’s pants while he fumbled with his hands in front of it, half-heartedly shielding it from view, but wary of making matters worse by touching it. Amy followed her friend’s finger, furrowed her brow, and leaned to one side in order to view the scene from a different angle.

“Ew! Danny, what the fuck?!”

Danny gestured frantically, silently begging his stepsister to lower her voice, and in this case, she recognized the wisdom of complying. Amy stepped closer to him and spoke directly into his ear with a low voice, while Monica helped to encircle the eighteen-year-old so it would be harder for passersby to see the erection straining through his soaked pants.

“Are you seriously getting off to this?” Amy asked. “Is that why you’ve been doing it?”

Once again, Danny stared back at her and shook his head. But before he could muster a verbal reply, Monica burst out laughing beside them.

“Wait… ‘been doing it’? You mean your stepbrother actually pees his pants? Like, regularly?”

“Yep! According to my mom, he’s been wetting the bed – what is it? – like, twice a week?”

Amy looked to Danny for confirmation, and was satisfied that the estimate was correct when he didn’t outright deny it.

“I don’t know about his other accidents. But apparently he’s been pissing himself because it turns him on.”

“No!” Danny exclaimed silently, but petulantly. “That’s not why! I don’t… I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Amy turned back to Monica and offered up a throat-rattling sigh of disgust. “I feel so bad for my mom. There is no way she knew what she was signing up for when she married this loser’s dad. I’m lucky I only have to deal with this for the rest of the summer, but can you imagine what he’s going to be like at college? I think we need to get in touch with the girls on his campus and warn them about this freak.”

“Ew!” Monica suddenly pointed at Danny’s crotch again, and Amy whipped her head around just in time to see him pull his hand away from where he’d been rubbing himself. Danny stared down at the floor in shame, knowing that he would never be able to convince the girls that before Monica reacted, he hadn’t even been fully aware that he was doing it.

“Holy shit!” Amy practically shouted. “This just keeps getting better.”

Leaning closer to him again, she lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper and wagged a finger in his face to underscore her disgust. “Are you seriously trying to jack off in public right now, after you just pissed your pants in the middle of the mall? You understand that I’m not going to fucking go to jail with you, right? If anyone sees you doing that shit, I’m going to say I’ve never seen you before in my life, and Monica is going to back me up.”

“Yeah, this is really gross,” Monica added, laughing. Amy nodded at her with a severe expression, then looked back toward Danny and continued:

“Look, here’s what’s going to happen, because I’m being a really good stepsister: You’re going to sit over there,” she said indicating a bench situated next to a large planter. “And I’m going to go get you something to change into. Meanwhile, you’re going to keep your fucking hands off of yourself, and then we’re going to go home and figure out how to bring all of this up to my mom, and what to do about it.”

Danny just stared at the floor throughout this lecture and nodded sheepishly. Invisibly, though, his hands were straining to play with his hard-on regardless of the unavoidable public exposure, regardless of his stepsister’s fury, and regardless of the obvious danger that it would lead to him being arrested and ruining his life.

“Monica, I’m really sorry to do this,” Amy said, “but would you mind watching him for a few minutes while I’ll go buy a fresh pair of little boy pants?”

Monica resumed giggling.

“Sure!” she chirped, before reflexively reaching for the 18-year-old’s hand, to guide him toward the designated waiting area.

“That hand’s dry, right?” Amy interjected as her stepbrother automatically moved to reciprocate her friend’s gesture. Danny nodded yes at the same time as Monica clasped his limp, outstretched hand and began walking him to the bench.

Along the way, she glanced back over her shoulder and declared: “Looks like I’m your new babysitter for right now.”

Danny averted his eyes from the various pointing fingers and shaking heads, and by the time he reached the bench and allowed Monica to physically position him in front of it and sit him down, he felt like he had shrunk to half his size. But that feeling was challenged every time he glanced down to see the turgid state of his cock.

When he did, he found it impossible to deny how good the wet fabric felt wrapped around it, and when he forced himself to look away, his hands kept drifting back to replace the visual reminder with a tactile one. Danny knew it was wrong, so he tried not to make it obvious that he was touching himself, and almost managed to convince himself that it didn’t really count as masturbation if he was only squeezing the head and subtly dragging his fingers over the underside of the shaft. He was just hiding the erection from view.

Monica disagreed, of course. And the first time she noticed the faraway look in Danny’s eyes, she seized him by the ear and pulled him closer to her, to hiss, “You stop that this instant! You should be ashamed of yourself!”

Danny winced in pain, and when Monica released him, he thrust his hands forward and clasped them together between his knees, using his forearms to conceal the erection instead. But he was not deterred for very long, and when Monica’s attention drifted away from him, his hands gradually crept back up between his thighs and resumed trying to rub at the erection with a minimum of visible movement.

When Amy made her was back with a shopping bag in hand, she found her stepbrother leaning forward with his head in his hands, and her friend covering her mouth and looking off into space, her eyes wide with apparent disbelief.

“What’s wrong now?” Amy asked hesitantly.

Monica gestured for Amy to lean very close before she replied.

“As soon as you walked away, this little creep-o started whacking off.”

“I did not!” Danny exclaimed, lifting and turning his head so that he was tearily staring at the girls over his fingertips. “It was an accident.”

“Yeah, okay,” Monica rolled her eyes. “Well, either way, your stepbrother accidentally jizzed right into his pissy pants.”

Amy’s jaw dropped as she turned to glare at Danny, who responded only by lowering his head again to cover his eyes.

“How much more fucked up can you get?” Amy asked him rhetorically before immediately turning to Monica. “How many people saw him doing it?”

“Not many, I don’t think. He was trying to be sneaky about it.”

Danny wanted to protest that he hadn’t been trying anything at all – that he’d basically been acting on reflex – but he recognized immediately that it would be ridiculous to act as if that somehow made him look better, so he just left his face buried in his hands and carried on listening.

“I told him to knock it off, but he kept going back to it as soon as I wasn’t looking,” Monica continued. “I don’t know if he liked it – if he was edging on purpose – but actually, I think I knew he was about to cum before he did. I look over and hear the way he’s breathing, and I think I’m going to see him rubbing himself to make it happen, but instead, he gets this focused, kind of scared look on his face and just starts squeezing it like he’s trying to hold his orgasm in. I can actually see it twitching under his hand, and he’s just squeezing it like…”

“Like he was pissing again?”

“Yes! I guess an accident is an accident, huh? It would be funny if it wasn’t so gross. Like, I could tell he was trying so hard to stay perfectly still, so the way his body shuddered when he busted… It was like he was saying ‘oh yeah’ but also ‘oh no.’ You know?”

“Is that right Danny?” Amy asked while he continued hiding his face. “Are you ashamed of yourself, like you should be?”

Danny remained silent and unmoving, and was taken by surprise when his stepsister hooked her fingers underneath his arm and tried lifting him to his feet. He resisted her by pressing his buttocks more firmly to the bench, then pulled his hands away from his face to stare up at her helplessly, wiping an errant tear from his cheek as he did so.

“What are you doing?” he whined.

“What do you mean, what am I doing?” Amy held her shopping back up in front of Danny’s face and gave it a shake. “You obviously need to get changed.”

Danny swallowed hard before furtively glancing around his surroundings and then back at Amy. “But where, though?”

“The bathroom, duh.”

Danny turned toward the escalator that had been the site of his accident, and stared in that direction for a long moment, imagining himself descending it again in his current state and then walking all the way across the lower level to the main restrooms. Another tear escaped his eye to snake down his cheek while he looked back at his stepsister, bit down on his lip to keep from sobbing, and whispered, “But it’s so far.”

Amy threw her head back in exasperation and rolled her eyes.

“Oh my god, ten minutes ago you were ready to walk all the way there while you still had piss streaming down your legs. Now that we can actually do something about it, you’re going to get shy all of a sudden?”

Danny stifled another sob and stared up at his stepsister with pleading eyes, then inserted his thumbnail between his front teeth. Amy shook her head and sighed heavily.

“And now we’re back to the thumb-sucking. Great.”

“I’m not sucking my thumb!” Danny protested much too loudly, drawing the attention of a lone woman who happened to be passing at that moment. She looked quizzically at the source of the outburst, then up at the young woman lording over him, then back to Danny, and finally, to his lap. Her eyes bulged, and remained bulging after she turned away abruptly, as if realizing she’d glimpsed something she wasn’t supposed to see – or would rather not have.

Amy watched as the woman walked on, looking stunned.

“Look, if you don’t want our help, that’s fine,” Amy said once she was sure the woman was out of earshot. “You can take these pants and I can leave with Monica, and then you can sit here until the mall closes, for all I care. Maybe in a few hours, you’ll dry off enough that you can get out of here without turning too many more heads. I just hope security doesn’t kick your ass out before then. It’s actually kind of a miracle no one’s reported you already.”

Danny withered listening to this, and found it impossible to go on looking directly at his stepsister. He stared at the floor instead, his mind essentially blank, and continued doing so for a long moment after Amy had finished speaking.

“Fine,” she said to fill the silence, then finally released her grip on Danny’s arm and set the shopping bag on the bench beside him. “Come on, Monica,” she said, gesturing to her friend as she turned to leave.

Danny’s hand shot out and caught her by the hem of her shirt.

“No! Help me!” he whined.

Monica looked at him with a pitying frown, then glanced up at Amy and lifted a finger into the air to indicate that she had something to offer.

“You know… If we don’t want to walk all the way down there, I have a friend who works at Coach.” She gestured over her shoulder in the direction of the store’s location, which was visible there on the upper level from where Amy was standing. “If I tell her what’s going on, maybe we can try to sneak him into one of their dressing rooms.”

“How does that sound? Hey!” Amy snapped her fingers to compel Danny to look up at her. “You want to just walk down there, instead of way over there?”

Danny twisted around in his seat in an effort to identify the proposed destination and visualize how mortifying that walk would be. After a long moment, he turned back to his stepsister and proceeded to merely stare at her, saying nothing.

“Yes or no,” Amy said impatiently.

Monica’s sympathy diminished as Danny’s vulnerability persisted, and she quickly acted upon the impulse to tease him for it.

“I also know a couple of the girls at Victoria’s Secret,” if you’d prefer that.

Monica laughed with pure delight at the look of terror that this elicited from Danny. He looked from one girl to the other, shaking his head frantically.

“Coach, then?” Amy asked firmly. Danny nodded.

“Do you guys want to stay here for another minute while I go talk to my friend?” Monica offered.

“You’re not going to jack off in front of me, too, are you?” Amy asked her stepbrother, who winced in reply, buried his face in his hands again, and shook his head no.

Monica stood up from the bench and leaned close to her friend, as if sharing a secret, but still spoke loudly enough for her to hear: “I don’t think he’d have the stamina for that kind of repeat performance.”

Monica walked off, laughing to herself, and Amy sat down in the seat she’d vacated.

“So, you’re, like, a huge pervert, huh?” Amy asked.

Danny slumped further down and shrugged his shoulders.

“Well, welcome to the family, I guess,” Amy concluded.

The new siblings sat there in silence for a few minutes, until Amy turned to check whether her friend was coming back yet, then took out her phone and shifted forward on the bench as if getting ready to stand up.

“You know,” she said, “as long as we’re waiting, I feel like I should take this opportunity to get some pictures.”

The look of terror returned to Danny’s face.

“No; please; why?”

“I mean… It’s not like my mom’s not going to believe this happened, but I kind of want her to be able to see it for herself.” Amy left a pregnant pause before adding, “Besides, my college friends would find this hilarious, and I just feel like I need to have something to show to any girls you try going after while I’m around. I’d be so sad if a woman my age got tricked into wasting her time with a kid who still wets his pants.”

Danny was literally trembling as his stepsister glanced around to see whether there would be any nearby witnesses to a miniature photoshoot, but just as she was about to stand up and order her stepbrother to pose for her, she finally noticed her friend making her way back to them.

“Well, maybe we’ll do this in the changing room,” Amy said, putting her phone away. “Here, grab your new pants; you can hold the bag in front of your crotch if you want. It might make it a little less obvious.”

Amy grabbed her stepbrother by the arm, and this time he allowed himself to be lifted to his feet, awkwardly positioning the shopping bag in front of him as he did so.

“Sorry you had to wait so long,” Monica said, rejoining the scene. “It took Lindsay a minute to stop laughing after I told her what happened. But she’s going to meet us at the entrance with the keys to the changing room. She told her coworker to make sure one stays empty for us. We just have to make sure your little bro takes his pissy pants with him and doesn’t leave any messes behind.”

“Sound good,” Amy declared, just before her grip tightened around Danny’s arm. “Doesn’t it?”

Danny just hung his head, but Amy readily accepted his silence as asset.

“All right. Let’s go.”

Amy guided him by the arm for the first few steps, then released his arm with the expectation that he would rush for the salvation of a private space all on his own. But the sudden absence of physical contact left Danny feeling alone and exposed, and his pace slowed. Glancing back at him, Monica seemed to pick up on this, and Danny was surprised, but ultimately grateful, to find that she stepped in front of him and reached out her hand for him to take into his own.

Allowing himself to be led in this way was comforting to Danny, but he was dimly aware of the fact that it also made him more conspicuous. Whereas his loss of control had mostly attracted hesitant glances from people who tried to buried their amusement beneath reminders that even adults can sometimes have accidents, his walk to the changing room was met with much less sympathy.

Many of the people walking in the opposite direction paused to stare openly at the teary-eyed eighteen-year-old being led by the hand like a child, with an almost bow-legged gait. The shopping bag might have made his accident less obvious, if not for all of the other visual cues that prompted people to consider why he was holding it like that, and to let their eyes drift down to the dark streaks reaching his ankles, and to note the conspicuous squeak of his wet shoes on the tile.

“Here we are,” Monica proclaimed after a walk that naturally felt much longer than it was, and Danny looked up to see another girl of about twenty standing just outside of the security sensors with a set of keys in her hand. Danny clutched the bag tighter to himself as he watched Lindsay lean out into the concourse as if trying to get a better look at him, specifically.

A wide smile settled on her face before she stood upright again, and she was openly laughing when she greeted the trio.

“You must be Danny,” she said. “You know, you’re lucky you’re with such an understanding friend. I don’t know a lot of girls who would go out of their way to help a guy who pissed his pants… especially after that… other thing that Monica said you did.”

Instinctively, Danny wanted to cover his face again, but both his hands were still occupied, so he just lowered his head and blushed intensely.

“Honestly, it’s probably better that he did,” Monica replied before stepping closer to her friend and lowering her voice to just above a whisper. “If you had seen how hard he was… I don’t think he would have even been able to walk over here without blowing his load.

Lindsay’s eyes widened to present a parody of admiration, just before she turned to lead the trio inside the store and toward a far wall, tracing the path that she expected to give them the best chance of avoiding other witnesses. After looking around to make sure there was no one nearby, she glanced over her shoulder to address Danny again.

“Wow, you really got that turned after you wet your pants? This was an accident, wasn’t it?”

Amy answered on his behalf: “It was. I can attest to that. Like, I don’t know if he held it that long on purpose, but the kid could barely even walk by the time his bladder gave out. It was actually pretty funny.”

As the group passed by the cash registers on their way to the changing rooms, Lindsay locked eyes with a coworker who stifled a giggle behind her hand upon glimpsing the scene, then held up four fingers to indicate which changing room she’d left available for them. A young couple had been in the middle of a transaction with her at the time, and they followed her gaze while Danny pulled against Monica’s grip in an effort to conceal himself behind a rack of clothing.

Lindsay led them to the designated cubicle, unlocked the door, and pushed it open for them. Danny moved to enter, but was surprised to find Monica still leading him by the hand as she stepped in first. His stepsister placed a hand on his back to coax him in behind her, then joined them herself and closed the door behind them.

“Just clean up after you’re done,” Lindsay said simply, and turned to walk away.

“Wha… what are you doing?” Danny asked, looking back and forth between his two companions.

“Come on, let’s make this quick,” Amy said while taking it upon herself to reach for Danny’s fly.

“I can change myself,” Danny whispered sharply while half-heartedly pushing her hands away.

“Yeah, probably, but to be honest, I don’t trust you to do anything on your own right now, so how about you just stand there and let us take care of it before you start crying again.”

With his hands now empty, Danny was free this time to follow the impulse to cover his face. Doing so provided his stepsister with the opening she needed to begin unfastening his sodden khakis.

“Monica, can you get out a pair of the new underwear?” she asked. Her friend dutifully reached into the bag and tore open the package to withdraw a pair of boxer briefs, while Amy looped her thumbs over Danny’s waistband and knelt down to pull his pants down so they crumbled to the floor with a heavy thwap.

“Oh, sorry,” she said upon finding herself face to face with Danny’s underwear and the distinctive white stain seeping through them. “I guess I should have known better than to get you grown-up underwear. I can’t believe you’re wearing briefs with cartoon print on them. I guess I really do have a baby stepbrother to take care of.”

Monica laughed into one hand while holding the fresh underwear in the other. She stopped laughing and turned her eyes to the ceiling in an expression of second-hand embarrassment when Amy proceeded to yank down his briefs.

“Oh my god, ew!” Amy exclaimed upon coming face-to-face with his glistening, slightly sticky penis. “Ew, ew, ew, ew, ew! Okay, step out, step out!”

After Danny complied and Amy pulled the soaking briefs away from his feet, she held them up for a fleeting moment with her fingertips just barely gripping the waistband, then tossed them down on top of his pants, shuddered, and shook both her head and her hands as if dispelling both the image of his genitals and the sensation of touching what had just barely been covering them.

“I’m so sorry you have to deal with this,” Monica said while holding out the boxer briefs for Amy to take. “You’re such a good sister. Isn’t she such a good sister, Danny?”

Danny just stared down at the floor and avoided looking directly at his exposed penis. As Amy held the new underwear’s waistband open in her splayed fingers, Danny lifted his foot and prayed for her to pull them on quickly, because the sound of giggles erupting in an adjacent fitting room made it feel as if his cock was already prepared to start rising again.

“Hey, will you be okay on your own now?” Monica asked, touching her friend lightly on the shoulder. “I actually just thought of something that might help you after you finish up.”

“Yeah, I’m good,” Amy said, pulling up the underwear and deliberately positioning the waistband before allowing the elastic to snap to Danny’s body. “Thank you so much for your help. Nobody should have to deal with this.”

And that, Monica maneuvered around Amy and threw the door wide open without checking whether anyone else was in view, while Danny stood there in just his shirt and new underwear, with his wet heap of clothing clearly visible on the floor beside him.

Amy reached up to pull the door closed, then reached into the shopping bag for the new pants, which Danny now saw were salmon-colored capris, nothing at all like the khakis he’d been wearing when he left home.

Though he knew he likely wouldn’t be able to stop Amy from telling her mother all about what had happened, Danny had hoped that he would have an opportunity to plead and bargain with her, and prepare himself for the later fallout. Now, he knew it was almost certain that when he walked in the door, his stepmother would recognize the change of wardrobe and demand that Danny explain it. He also knew that he’d probably be too frightened and humiliated to answer properly, but Amy would be right there to answer any and all questions for him.

Danny was caught up imagining that confrontation when his stepsister dragged him back to the present moment by tapping on his ankle and ordering him to step into the pants that she was holding open for him.

After she’d stood up, fasted his new pants, and readjusted his shirt overtop of them, Amy pointed at the wet garments and ordered her stepbrother: “Now put those into the shopping bag, and I’m going to go ask the nice cashier if they have some disinfecting wipes or something, for you to clean up with. You can figure out what you want to do about the socks and shoes.”

Danny watched her leave the fitting room and leave the door open, and he didn’t even consider shutting it again before stuffing his pants and briefs into the shopping back, then adding his socks and cringing while he stuffed his feet back into his sopping, squeaky shoes.

After returning with the promised cleaning supplies, Amy stood by with her arms crossed, watching to make sure that he did a thorough enough job and making performatively apologetic faces at the handful of people who curiously looked in on the scene while passing by with potential new outfits of their own.

“Wipe off the bottoms of your shoes, too,” she ordered when Danny looked at her to wordlessly ask whether they could leave. He did so, and she gestured for him to add the used cloths to his bag.

“All right, now grab your bag,” Amy said conclusively. “You can carry your own piss pants.”

Danny dodged knowing glances while he followed his stepsister out into the store. To his horror, instead of leading him directly out into the mall, she first detoured to the spot where Lindsay stood returning garments to their racks, then reached back to grab Danny by the arm and position him face-to-face with her.

“I’m pretty sure my baby brother would like to thank you for all you’ve done for him,” she said.

Danny shuffled his feet and stared at the floor for a few seconds before forcing himself to meet Lindsay’s eye. He swallowed hard and said, “Thank you… I’m sorry. Thank you.”

“It was nice meeting you,” Amy added. “Maybe we’ll see each other again under less disgusting circumstances.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Lindsay said, laughing, then gave Danny a playful slap on the shoulder. “Be careful out there, little guy. If you stick with your big sister, I’m sure she’ll get you potty trained in no time.”

Danny felt brand new tremors of humiliation travel throughout his body, which made him want nothing more than to turn and run away to hide in the first private place he could find. Instead, he waited for his stepsister to turn away first, then followed her out of the store, back down the escalator, and toward the mall’s main entrance.

No sooner had they reached it than Monica called out for them to wait, jogging across the concourse from behind them while holding a nondescript shopping bag.

She held it out to Amy upon catching up to them. “I just wanted you to have this. I thought it might come in handy later.”

Amy accepted the hand-off, held the bag open in both her hands to peer down into it, then chuckled and said “thanks” before offering her friend a parting hug and a promise that they’d reconnect later.

Naturally, Danny wanted to ask what was in the bag, but by this time, he felt nearly incapable of speech and resigned himself to the idea that Amy got to decide whether he was allowed to find out.

When they arrived home later, Danny hesitated outside the front door, once again imagining the disappointment and fury with which his stepmother would greet him. Along the way, he’d barely managed to mutter his request that Amy not tell on him right away, and she had dismissed it without consideration.

Far from waiting for her mom to inquire about Danny’s new pants or the malodorous shopping bag he was clutching as he slinked into the living room, Amy took it upon herself to call out, as soon as she’d opened the door, “Hey mom! Guess what happened.”

Danny reflexively broke into a run upon hearing this, but Amy reacted quickly and caught him by the arm before he could steal away with his incriminating materials, stuff them into his laundry, and hide in his room until the moment the hammer came down.

“No, show her,” Amy commanded after Gabrielle strode into the room, a reliably imposing figure before her biological daughter and stepson.

“Show me what?” Gabrielle crossed her arms but regarded Danny with a neutral gaze.

Danny shuffled his feet, stared at the floor, and slowly lifted the bag before his stepmother.

“What is this?” she asked, taking it.

“Careful,” Amy cautioned.

Her mother parted the handles of the bag to look inside, then closed her eyes and raised her head to heave a sigh before exploring further. She let one handle fall from her grasp and gingerly reached in to lift the patterned briefs by their waistband.

“Really, Danny? Again?!” she demanded, allowing them to fall back into the bag.

Danny continued staring down at the floor, prepared to absorb a now-familiar scolding, but his head snapped up to stare daggers at his stepsister when she spoke again.

“Did you notice it’s not just pee?”

“Ugh. Really?” Gabrielle groaned, and lowered her face slightly closer to the bag. Her nostrils flared as she sniffed the air.

“No, not that,” Amy clarified. “Fortunately, I guess? We actually saw Monica down there and apparently my new little brother got so worked up by her watching him piss his pants that he…”

Garbielle’s eyes shot open wide after her daughter raised a fist to hip level and then quickly splayed out her fingers in a gesture indicating an explosion.

“You’re kidding!” she practically shouted, then fixed her gaze on Danny and thrust the bag into his chest, causing him to stagger back two steps while he fumbled to reclaim his grip on it.

“You swore—” Gabrielle continued. “You swore that you weren’t doing this on purpose.”

“I’m not!” Danny bellowed, tears stinging his eyes again. “It was an accident! It was all an accident! I don’t… I don’t know why…”

The capacity for speech escaped him yet again, and in the relative security of his home, despite the looming judgement of his stepmother and stepsister, he found insufficient incentive to stop himself from sobbing like a baby.

“Sure, right,” Gabrielle started in, little affected by his pathetic display. “Just like you ‘don’t know’ why I caught you that one morning humping the wet spot on your mattress after you pissed your bed again.”

“Ew! Danny!” Amy exclaimed.

The eighteen-year-old’s compounding humiliation felt like an out-of-body experience. Every concrete physical sensation evaporated until he was left unable to move, or speak, or think, or feel. His body and brain resigned themselves to passively absorbing the disgust and disappointment that this beautiful mother-daughter pair were unloading upon him, and when his consciousness began making its way back into that otherwise empty husk, the first thing he became aware of was a fresh blossoming of warmth in his groin.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Gabrielle declared slowly after watching the softball-sized dark spot finish forming on the front of her stepson’s pants.

Amy followed her mother’s gaze and had to step forward to look for herself, whereupon she turned away and burst out laughing.

“Holy shit, already? How was there even anything left in you?”

“Oh,” Gabrielle interjected, “apparently if he’s really nervous, his body will find a way.”

The older woman then wheeled on her stepson and pointed toward the stairs. “Look, just go to your room,” she ordered. “We’ll figure out how to deal with this after I talk to your stepsister.”

Danny dragged his entire palm across each cheek to wipe away his tears, then started for the stairs while the two women carried on talking about him.

“Speaking of that,” Amy said, “I guess we really could use these.”

Danny heard the rustle of his stepsister reaching into the second shopping bag, and looked back to watch the unveiling as he made his way upstairs.

“This was actually Monica’s idea. She helped me get him cleaned up and then went over to the baby supply store right before we left.”

Amy let the bag fall to the floor and held up a package of extra-large pull-ups for her mother to inspect.

“That was very thoughtful of her,” Gabrielle observed. “We should have her over to say thank you. I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this, but yes, I think those will come in handy. I really wanted to train him out of this phase, or whatever it is, before he started college, but now I guess we’re just going to have to make sure he wears protection for his freshman year, and then we can try again next summer.”

“How is this our life now?” Amy laughed.

“It’s frustrating, but it’s got its perks,” Gabrielle replied. “Trust me.”

Following one last, resentful glance at the package of diapers, Danny finished trudging to his room, where he threw the bag into the corner and then threw himself down on his bed. After crying into his pillow for a minute or two, he turned his head so that his eyes fell upon the spot where his wet clothing had half-spilled out of the bag.

“Why can’t I stop?” he asked himself aloud. Consciously, he only intended to scold himself for continuing to have accidents at his age. But as he lay there imagining his forthcoming year as a college student in pull-ups, a much deeper problem was underscored by the growing tightness in his brand new, but already-damp boxer briefs, and by the rhythmic, automatic thrusting of his hips.

Danny was fully erect again when a knock at his door forced him to abruptly stop humping the mattress. He continued lying on his stomach to conceal the hard-on when the door opened and Amy entered holding a pull-up fresh from the pack.

You never felt cooler than right now, walking around the fancy wine tasting, wondering if everyone could tell your underwear was just so cool.

Besides, she told you if you managed to make it through the night without an accident, she’ll actually make you a man!

Needless to say, you were excited.

After 24 long years of imagining what it would be like to be with a woman, you were about to experience it!

You even laughed as she packed a bag with a spare diaper—just in case—making a point to toss the spare shorts she wanted to bring.

You wouldn’t need that!

Each glass of wine made you feel better than the previous one, even though it tasted icky. But you pretended it was good because all the other adults raved about something French.

Whatever Cabernay Savinyon was.

Her smile electrifies you as she grabs your hand.

“Do you need to go potty before we go sit outside, sweetie?”

“I’m not a baby, I’ll go if I need to!”

Look at you, proving you’re a man.

Had you not been so proud—or anything but a silly little thing—you’d have realized she was right.

But you didn’t.

She knew well before you did you were in trouble. She could see your fidgeting and bouncing from a mile away.

Not that it bothered her, she was exhausted of your incessant arguments that you were a big boy.

She was more than willing to let you experience the natural consequences of your immaturity.

And she didn’t need to wait long.

You barely made it outside before it happened. Your eyes going wide in terror as your bladder screamed in pain, unable to meet its burden of the big boy drinks you thrust upon it.

“Everything okay, James?” she asked innocently, as if she didn’t know what was about to happen.

“I-I…” you managed before the floodgates opened.

Tinkle flooded your special Ben 10 undies, which were comically unsuited for the onslaught.

“Mmmm,” you whimpered pathetically as peepee gushed down your leg, pooling onto the ground.

There was no hiding what was happening.

You felt the eyes of the patrons on you, watching the train wreck unfolding before them.

They may have been shocked—but she wasn’t.

She didn’t need to say a single word, her smile said it all: I told you so.

All you could do is groan feeling the warm river of shame waterfalled down your legs, not daring to meet her gaze.

When you finally finished, you heard her break through your haze of embarrassment.

“Uh oh, did you have an accident, honey?”

Tears welled in your eyes. This wasn’t supposed to happen!

“No, baby, don’t cry!” she said wrapping you in a hug, skillfully avoiding your wet pants, “It’s just an oopsie daisy, it happens to little ones like you! Let’s get you into something more appropriate, hmm?”

She grabbed your hand without waiting for an answer, pulling you somewhere.

You didn’t know. You didn’t care. You couldn’t think straight. As long as you went far from here.

At least until she pulled you into the women’s bathroom.

“N-no, I c-can’t go in there!”

“Oh stop, I need to get you out of those wet pants. And besides, nobody bats an eye when women change their babies here!”

You’re too frazzled to argue. Even if she’s calling you a baby.

“Lay down, James,” she says pointing to the changing mat she laid down.

You hesitate, it’s not even a stall—it’s in the middle of the bathroom.

“N-no!” you shriek, looking around.

She doesn’t argue. She unbuttons your soggy pants, pulling them to the floor, exposing your Ben 10 undies.

“I know how excited you were to wear those, but you’re not ready for these, are you? You need something a bit more padded to hold your wetwets.”

She pushes you down as you whimper, onto the changing mat. Your special Ben 10 undies are unceremoniously tossed aside.

“Awww, if you weren’t such a baby,” she says wiping your little parts, “Maybe you could have used this for something other than tinkling…but I guess you’ll have to wait a few more years.”

She laughs, not in a condescending way, but as if it was just a silly, offhand comment.

The crinkling of your diaper as she fluffs it fills the room. “Up.”

She slides your diaper under you and tickles your tummy.

“But isn’t this better? You don’t need to try that, do you? Aren’t you happier here, safe and sound, wrapped in my love? No expectations?”

She sprinkles baby powder on you, rubbing it in meticulously.

“You’re not a big boy—and you’ll probably never will be! And that’s okay! The real world can wait, you belong right here. Girls will still fawn over you, I promise!”

“I-it’s not the same…” you pout.

“Maybe not, but what can you do? You’re not a big boy, you need diapers! Girls love helpless little things like you!”

She tapes the last tab and pats your diaper appraisingly.

“There, all snug as a bug.”

You watch in horror as she stands up and offers you her hand.

“Y-you forgot my pants!”

“Honey, they’re soaking wet, y can’t wear those!”

“B-but, what about—.”

“You mean the spare shorts you were just so sure you wouldn’t need? I didn’t pack them!”

“But I…I need…need something to cover my…my…”

You couldn’t bring yourself to say diaper.

“Cover your diapie? Well you should’ve thought about that, silly boy! It’s time you trust the adults to make your decisions. But for now, you’ll just have to do without, sweetie.”

No.

No. No. No!

But she already packed your wet clothes and changing mat, leaving you no options.

“C’mon, James, let’s get you home, you had a long day.”

You take her hand, eyes shut, trusting her.

Everyone can see your diaper with the silly designs—nothing like your Ben 10 undies.

As you ignore the laughing, you wonder when you’ll ever get to wear them again.

Or if you’ll ever be with a woman.