Uh-Oh!

I think it'd be cute if someone started wetting the bed frequently enough that somebody got them a bedwetting mat (their CG? a significant other? whoever noticed...) and the bed wetter in question just can't seem to get it out of their head all day once they know it's there.

that first night, they hear it crinkling really loudly as they climb into bed. even the texture is a little different... it's a constant reminder of how shamefully immature they are, peeing the bed often enough to need something like this. and yet... it feels kinda secure. even if they have an accident, it'll all be okay.

their first time peeing on it isn't an accident.

scenario 1: they toss and turn so much on that first night, until their bladder gives a little pang, and they lie there on their back and sort of debate with themselves. they're awake already... they could make it to the toilet. but... maybe they can't stop thinking about the bedwetting mat because they haven't used it yet, and they don't know what to expect. maybe... maybe they should just try it out?

they take a deep breath, then try to relax... and suddenly warmth is flowing through the crotch of their PJ pants. they feel it on their thighs, under their butt, up their back... their wet clothes feel heavy and clingy already... they had to go more than they thought, and they worry for a moment, that their pee might leak off the edges of the mat. they sit up and push the covers back, looking down to where they're still making a puddle. it's mostly collecting right under their crotch before spreading and soaking into the sheets. they keep going in the bed for a little longer, until their bladder runs out. then, feeling conspicuous, they hide under the covers in their pee soaked PJs, and try to get some sleep. they have to... it's unusual for them to wake up from wetting the bed. they usually sleep through it and discover it in the morning. and they don't want to admit that they peed on purpose...

scenario 2: they do fall asleep, but wake up bursting in the middle of the night. they can barely stop squirming enough to consider getting out of bed, but they do finally get it under control enough to move. as soon as they do though, the bedwetting mat crinkles loudly, and something in their body or mind just relaxes completely. they lose a huge gush of pee before they can tighten up again. it's like they're psychologically affected by that crinkling noise... like they just know that means they're sitting on something that's made for them to pee on it.

so now they're sitting there, still struggling to hold it, with their pants already visibly wet all over the front and ass, and a bedwetting mat right there underneath them... and maybe it's time to just admit they had an accident and let go.

they sit there staring at their already wet crotch for too long, and when the next wave of desperation hits, they maybe don't try very hard to hold it. and so they don't... it starts coming out, and they just watch the wet spot glisten and grow, until their thick stream is rushing in their pants and trickling loudly into the puddle on the bedwetting mat.

they're having a lot of feelings about it... making the bedwetting mat serve its purpose so quickly and easily... having a childish accident where they legitimately couldn't hold it... peeing the bed while awake... it's all pretty overwhelming, so they just sit there and pee like crazy until they're finally empty.

either way, they tested it, and it works!

Oh this is adorable! Of course it's humiliating to have someone notice that you wet the bed often enough to need a mat for it, and then even it's bedtime, the mat is impossible to forget or ignore! Well, who wouldn't want to test it out a bit, just to make sure it works, right?~

They’re crinkly, and they’re meant to soak up accidents. but you’re still going to be making a river in your pants and a puddle in your bed when you inevitably wet the bed.

Mattress protectors are essentially just diapers for your bed!

Correct! They're clearly just there for those who won't wear diapers without fussing, but worth protection do they really offer? Sure, the mattress will stay dry, but nothing else will! Honestly, it could end up more humiliating that way...

They've been rubbing their eyes and yawning for the entire last chapter, and now their head has found its way tucked under your arm, heavy and warm on your chest.

"Mhm," is all they can manage. They reach for the covers and tug them up.

"Ah-ah, forgetting something?"

Furrowed brows and a pouty lip peek up you.

"No. I already brushed my teeth, remember? You helped me wash my face, too."

"That's not all you're supposed to do before bed. You should go pee."

“Nooo," they say with a fervent head shake. They tug the covers up over their ears for good measure, "I'm too sleepy."

“Isn’t the goal for you to be potty trained one day?”

The covers are whipped down comically fast, "I am potty trained!"

"You're wearing a pull-up."

"I-I'm daytime potty trained. Nighttime is different. Doesn’t count."

"Oh, it doesn’t, does it?"

"Mhhm," they seem to think the debate is over because they reach for the pacifier clipped to their pajama top and open their mouth. You yank on it just in time, pulling them to sit up a little, "Hey! Stop it, I want that!"

"And I want you to go pee before bed. It's ok if nothing comes out. It's good practice to try at least. If a little does come out, that'll help you not leak at night."

"I don't leak...that much."

"Have fun doing laundry tomorrow, then."

Their scowl remains but they kick off the blankets and swing their feet over the edge of the bed, sighing dramatically.

"You're the worst."

"I know, the absolute worst. I should get an award or something."

The nightlight is on in the ensuite bathroom; it casts a warm glow from behind the shell shaped shield. They don't bother closing the door and from your spot in bed you can see in. They fuss with the string on their pajama pants before eventually getting it undone, then their pull-up comes down. Before sitting down they stick their pacifier in, but you can still see them frowning.

"It's cute how you sit so far back, it makes your feet dangle juuust a bit. You look so sweet swinging them."

Soon enough you hear the little pitter patter of pee hitting water. It's not very much at all, but enough that you're glad you made them go.

They whip their head towards you and smile around their pacifier. Their fussy mood seems to be forgotten after their potty success.

"I did it!"

"I can hear baby, good job. Now dry off and wash your hands. Scrub tops and bottoms and sing the ABCs twice. Get the light, too, please."

By the time they climb back into bed their eyes are sleepy again. You peel back the blankets to let them in and pull them in close, pecking the top of their head.

"Do you think I'll wake up dry?" they ask genuinely.

"Hard to say, sweetheart."

"I want to. I want to be good. I want to be good and always stay dry and use the potty."

"Being dry or going potty doesn't make you good. Listening to grownups is what makes you good. You would be good if you were wet every day and every night if that's what I wanted you to be."

Pull-ups, absorbent training pants and boy's underwear (that I'm lucky enough to fit in) never fails to send me into the right headspace.

My CG loves to tease and tickle and stage accidents for me and I just melt...some things I like:

☆Checking for wet spots.

☆Having an accident while playing or being absorbed in a game.

☆Being 'mostly' potty trained but having a leaking problem.

☆Bedwetting...bedwetting! It's so cute and vulnerable.

☆The embarrassment and shame aspect of being 'too big' for accidents, but it still happens.

-oujiomo (sent from main)

Ooooh, this is so cute! So much love for littles (and it's well-deserved of course), but middles need love too! Nothing like some good babyish underwear to really make you feel tiny... I bet your CG thinks you're just the cutest!

CG spots a gently expanding dark patch creeping across the fabric of their little's pants as their butt starts to get wet, and soon, a faintly yellow puddle starts to creep out from where they're sitting and spread across the floor. it's obvious now that little one is peeing in their shorts.

CG goes over to them, nice and calm, and asks little in a soothing voice if they're wet. the answer is very obvious from looking at them... their crotch is still glistening and burbling with a trapped stream of fresh warm urine... but little one looks up at them, brow furrowed, and nods as though they're glad they were asked, so they could respond without having to try and talk to report their condition.

CG had grabbed a towel from the hamper in the hallway on their way over... it needed a wash anyway. CG holds it lightly between their little's legs, so it can help soak up their puddle a bit. it's as if that gave baby permission, because little lets out a small sigh, and their stream starts hissing very loudly. the liquid is still trapped by the fabric of their shorts, so the stronger pressure makes the wet spot spread higher up their abdomen, all the way to their waistband, and tiny waterfalls of pee are cascading out of the leg holes... the towel is barely doing anything to contain it all.

after they're done, CG has their little strip off their pants and undies, leave them on the floor, and walk their still damp little bare behind right into the bathroom for a quick shower.

How cute! Nonverbal littles can't really be expected to let their CG know when it's potty time, so an accident was probably inevitable, and CG was prepared for it... If perhaps a bit surprised by just how much came out of their little one once the towel was in place! That floor's going to need a proper cleaning once little's done with their shower...

Second thing! “Uh oh” prompt makes me think of a baby who forgets the word ‘accident’ because it’s a really big word for such a little thing, so they just start tugging at CG’s sleeve, tears in their eyes “uh-oh, Mommy, uh-oh,” and their poor CG has no idea what they’re saying until they whine and shove their hands between their legs instead as they start having that accident they tried so hard to warn about

Hello! First of all, that's actually just my main blog and Tumblr decided to show it here for some reason, no idea why, but thank you for finally giving me the push to google how to turn that dumb feature off! Should be gone now!

Second, that's such a cute concept! 'Accident' is such a big word for such a little thing - even if they can somehow remember it, they'd probably still struggle to say it! 'Uh-oh' is really the best they can do, which unfortunately isn't specific enough for CG to get the memo in time! At least next time they'll know what their baby means...

huh? do i need a change? no!! im dry as a-

The house is roomy and airy, with an open floor plan connecting the kitchen to the living and dining room. Sun cast through the windows brightens the dark hardwood floor.

"Hi, Leigh," says Mommy, one hand on Adam's back. "This is Miss Leigh, honey. She's going to tutor you today."

Miss Leigh looks younger than Adam is, maybe in her mid-20s, but her calm, collected expression and body language is something he's only seen in older women. The fine lines under her eyes and her warm smile make her look wise and experienced.

"Hi, honey. Adam, right?" She smiles at him, and then looks to Mommy for confirmation.

Mommy nods. She told Adam that Miss Leigh has been a longtime friend of hers, but she hadn't seen her in a couple years after she moved. Now that they were living in her home state she was able to reconnect with lots of old friends.

"Okay," says Mommy, "I'm going to run some errands. I'll be back around four. Is that okay, Adam?" Mommy rubs her hand on his back and he nods, but he looks a little worried as she walks towards the door.

"It's okay, baby. Miss Leigh is going to take good care of you." Her voice changes as she addresses Miss Leigh, hand on the doorknob. "It's been nice to see you again, Leigh. Let's get coffee sometime later this week. As soon as I'm less busy." Mommy has been working hard on getting her paintings ready for the gallery.

Mommy and Miss Leigh hug briefly before Mommy heads out the door. Adam stands still, looking around the room. Miss Leigh has big paintings on the walls, of flower gardens and hummingbirds. There are crayon drawing on the fridge, probably done by other boys. Adam feels that his pull-up has shifted awkwardly on his bottom and reaches down to pull it into a more comfortable position under his pants.

"Come on over here. Let's sit down by the sliding door."

They sit on a circle rug in a patch of warm sun. Adam looks out onto the porch and sees a big catio with a yellow cat sleeping inside. Miss Leigh is wearing black tights and a black skirt and a black mock turtleneck sweater. She pulls her skirt under her bottom as she kneels down across from Adam. Adam sits crisscross applesauce. The sun is warm on his face.

Miss Leigh spreads out a square of felt between them. There are cut-out shapes of forest animals arranged on top.

"Owl," says Miss Leigh softly. "Ow-ull. Can you find the owl, honey?"

He blushes at the way she's talking to him. Doesn't she know he has a master's degree? He stretches out a hand and touches the brown owl cut-out.

Miss Leigh picks up the owl. "Where does the owl live?"

"Tree," he mutters, touching the tree on the felt background. Miss Leigh nods and moves the owl.

"How about the coyote? Can you find the coyote?"

Adam reaches out and picks it up.

"Where should the coyote go?"

Adam sets it down in the grass under the tree.

Miss Leigh lets him pick up a bunny, a fox, and a bat and place them on the scene.

"Very nice." Her tone changes. "Adam, your mommy told me you still need to wear pull-ups. Is that right?"

Adam squirms. He nods, hands slowly gripping the rug.

"Can you tell me if you have an accident? Or do you need me to check you?"

He shakes his head.

"No? No, you can't tell me, or no, you don't need me to check you?"

He stares at the animals, not answering.

"Can you tell me if you go pee?" Nod. "You don't need me to check you?" Nod. "Okay, good, honey. Thanks for letting me know." She sweeps the felt up in her hands and rolls it up, animals tucked inside. "Do you want to go play outside? I have a big backyard."

He nods and they stand up. He follows her through the kitchen and down a hallway. There's more art on the walls, and pictures of her smiling with her arms around a man. That must be her husband, Adam thinks. I wonder where he is. Maybe work. There's also a closed door leading off the hall. What room is that? Maybe the bathroom.

Miss Leigh does have a big backyard. There's a garden with flower beds, a big cedar tree with a swing hanging from it, and a picnic table. "You can play on the swing, or look at the flowers. I'm going to get a snack for us. I'll be right back."

Miss Leigh goes into the house, leaving the screen door open behind her. Adam approaches the swing. He looks over his shoulder. There's a little bit of pressure growing in his bladder, he can feel it. He thinks about following Miss Leigh and asking for the bathroom, but then he gets shy. Wouldn't that be awkward?

I can hold it for now. The swing looks fun, anyway. Adam hoists himself up. He swings for a few minutes before Miss Leigh comes back again. She smiles at him, setting a cutting board with an apple down on the table and picking up a knife to cut it up.

Adam jumps down from the swing, and as soon as he does he feels himself start peeing. It's so sudden and surprising that he doesn't move, one hand on the rope of the swing. Oh no. He grabs his crotch. It's too much for the pull-up. He can feel it leaking out, wet and warm on his legs, saturating his pants.

"Do you want to come have some...Uh-oh." Miss Leigh stands up and walks over calmly. "It looks like you needed to go potty pretty bad. We can go back inside." She holds his hand and they step up onto the back porch and back through the screen door. She guides him into the room off the hallway. It isn't a bathroom, but a changing room. She has a high changing table with a white pad on it. There's a washer-dryer in the corner next to a hamper. Most of the clothes inside look like grown-up clothes, but he can see one brightly striped yellow and blue sweater.

"Up-hup," says Miss Leigh, and he climbs onto the changing table. It's so embarrassing. His legs are absolutely drenched. She pulls off his Converse and socks. "You wear pretty big clothes for someone who goes pee-pee in his pants. I like these jeans." She pulls them down easily (they have elastic on the back).

"It's too bad Mommy didn't bring you a change. But it's all okay. I have spares you can borrow." She opens a drawer and pulls out a pair of soft, green sweatpants with bears and trees on them. She sets them down next to his head, and he can feel the soft fabric on his cheek.

"Let's get your diap--I mean, your pull-up off. Sorry." She laughs. "A couple of my boys are still in diapers." She smiles at him and he rubs at his mouth with his hands. "Ohh, Mommy did pack a pacifier. Let me go get it."

She leaves the room. He can feel his wet pull-up growing cold. Then he hears the front door open and Leigh talking to somebody. Somebody with a deep voice.

"Okay, I can help you look for it." He hears Leigh approaching down the hallway. "Just give me a second, okay?" she says over her shoulder as she comes back into the changing room. "Sorry," she says to Adam. She mouths, "forgot his computer," and rolls her eyes, which makes Adam giggle.

Then she hands him the pacifier. Is he supposed to put it in himself? He hesitates before he pushes it in slowly.

"You like biting your pacifier, huh? It had teeth marks all over."

He doesn't respond. He is, in fact, already chewing on it without even noticing.

She finally eases his pull-up over his legs and gets out a wet washcloth. "I like this better than baby wipes," she says. "Don't worry, I'll get some lotion on you, too."

Just then the door cracks open and Leigh looks over her shoulder.

"Honey, did I leave it on top of the washing mach...Oh. Sorry." The man backs out of the door.

"Just give me a second," Miss Leigh calls back to him. "I'll help you look as soon as I'm done with this."

She finishes wiping Adam and rubs lotion onto her hands. She rubs it all over his diaper area, but doesn't linger long on his half-hard penis. "I'll have to tell your mommy to help you with that when you go home," she says, winking.

"Now, do you need another pull-up? Or a diaper? Mommy said you sometimes have an accident during your nap."

"I need a diaper," says Adam from behind his pacifier, surprising himself. "Since...since I couldn't..."

"Uh-huh, it's okay. It's nothing to be ashamed about. Sometimes you need a diaper!" She opens another drawer. Miss Leigh's diapers are big and white, unlike the purple kind Mommy puts on him at nighttime.

She taps his hips to tell him to lift up and lowers them onto the soft padding. She wraps him up and she feels his hands press the tapes shut.

Once he's in the bear sweatpants, she hoists him off the changing table. He takes out his pacifier to yawn.

"Did that tire you out? I know an accident can make you tired," says Miss Leigh. "It happens to lots of people. Do you need to sit on the couch for a little while and maybe snooze?"

Adam nods and she takes his hand again.

The man, her husband, is in the kitchen when they walk out to the living room, making a sandwich on the counter. "Can't find it anywhere," he says. "Might as well eat something. The boss doesn't need to know why I've been gone so long."

"Okay, whatever, honey," says Miss Leigh, sitting down on the couch and pulling Adam up next to her. She guides his arms around her and gently pulls his head to rest on her chest. "It's okay, Adam, you don't need to be nervous. Do you need a blankie?" She pulls a blanket off the back of the couch and spreads it over him. Adam sighs. It's so comfortable and warm. His eyes droop closed and he feels that soft, falling feeling.

Somewhere far away, the couch sags as Leigh's husband sits down. "Is that Cherry's boyfriend?" says a far-away, muted voice. "I didn't realize he was an adult baby. Although...I guess I can see Cherry being into that. She's always been very...assertive."

"I don't really think he's a baby." Miss Leigh is petting his hair. "I think he's more of like, a little boy. Or a middle. Although he did ask me to diaper him."

"You're going to have to explain the difference to me again. Is that what, uh...Thomas is? I mean, Tommy? Sorry, remind me who was here last week?"

He looks up from his food and picks up his plastic cup with the kitties on it. “I’m using this cup instead of a sippy cup. I think this is pretty much what big kids use.”

I just smile back at him. I don’t think he knows how silly it is to hear someone in his 20s reference “big kids”. I don’t think he knows that most people he would consider grown ups don’t call stuff “for big kids”, and I don’t think they would find his Kitty cup very mature, anyway. But it’s cute that he doesn’t really seem to have even thought of that.

He also wanted to have a plate that wasn’t sectioned, but it’s still a plastic plate with a frog design in the middle. And he’s wiggling a little bit in his seat.

“Are you potty dancing?”

“No!!” Now he looks at me with an angry expression. Or maybe a pouty expression.

“Are you sure? Let’s go potty when you’re finished eating, okay?”

“Okay, fine.” He picks up a handful of goldfish crackers and shoves them in his mouth, a few falling onto the table.

“Attitude. And table manners.”

“Oh, yeah. Umm. Okay, mommy. I’ll go try when I’m finished. Even though I don’t need to go potty.”

When he’s done eating he comes into the kitchen to put his plate in the sink and I glance down. He has a big wet patch square in the middle of his crotch.

“Okay, potty boy, let’s go to the bathroom.” I put my hand on his back.

He lets me guide him over with only a little whining.

When we get to the bathroom he sees his reflection in the mirror and looks down at the tile floor.

“Did you spill from your big kid cup?” I ask, watching him fumble with his zipper. “Here, let me get that from you.”

“I don’t remember…maybe…” he says quietly, sitting down on the toilet and stepping all the way out of his shorts and training pants.

“Maybe you still need to be using a sippy cup.”

“No…”

“Or did something else happen?” I pick up his pants and padded underwear. “I don’t think juice usually soaks all the way through to your underwear. Can you smell these for me?”

He leans down.

“What does that smell like?”

“Pee.” He looks back up at me, a sad crease between his eyebrows.

“Okay. I knew you needed to go. Can you try to finish right now?”

He shifts his legs on the toilet but nothing’s coming out. We even try turning on the tap. “That’s funny. It seemed like you really needed to go. More than the amount that would cause this wet patch.”

I help him get off the toilet and wipes off and washes his hands.

“Let’s put on a pull-up.” I’m already opening the drawer. “Pull-ups aren’t for big kids though! I’m meant to have training underwear!”

“We don’t have any clean training underwear, bud.”

“Maybe the ones I was wearing will dry and…”

“No, that’s not how it works. That would get smelly and dirty.”

“Okay…” He still looks hesitant and nervous. I guess he’ll take a little convincing.

“You won’t have to worry so much about having a leak if you wear this,” I tell him. “It’s okay. You like pull-ups, remember? Last week you wanted one when you needed to poop because you didn’t want to go or the bathroom at night.”

“That was last week though…I’m way bigger now. I didn’t wake up wet yesterday and I got to have a grown up cup…”

“Uh-huh. Okay, maybe you’re close to being a big kid. But someone who is ready for underwear”—I’ll humor him and let him believe that his padded training pants are basically the same as regular adult underwear—"doesn’t leak all the way through the cloth. Okay?”

“Okay, I guess maybe, um, I guess maybe I can wear one for now. But just since I don’t have any clean underwear now.”

Right, that’s definitely why. I mentally roll my eyes but keep a straight face as I help him step into the pull-up and pull it snug over his hips.

“Do you want to play outside for a bit? It’s so nice out.”

“Yes!!”

“You can work on your fairy house again.”

“Yes! Yay!”

He doesn’t seem to care about the pull-up now that he knows he can go play outside. But he gets whiny again when we realize that his only clean shorts are the ones with snaps along the inseam.

“But that’s for babies!! And they have a stain on them!!”

“Right, and who’s fault is the stain?”

“Well, it’s not because I pooped in them; I just dropped a marker on them when I was drawing…”

“Uh-huh. The pooping did also happen.”

“I know!! But it stayed in my pull-up! The stain is from the marker! Look, it’s purple and everything because it was a purple marker.”

“Okay, I’m just making sure we’re on the same page." I help him pull them on. One of the snaps has come undone and I bend down to snap it into place. “You are really combative today. Do you need to go on time-out?”

“No, I wanna go in the backyard…”

“Okay, let’s go outside.”

The screen door slides open. I was expecting him to go to the tree where he’s been building his fairy house, but instead he goes over to the sandbox and glances over his shoulder. He kneels down, legs spread a little, facing away from me. I know what he’s doing. His leg was fidgeting when we were in the bathroom and I knew he wasn’t done. And I know he likes pulling the soft, warm sand up between his legs and then peeing.

I give him a minute and he slowly stands up and walks over to the tree, squatting down and picking up one of the little chairs he brought outside.

“Hey, can you come over here?”

“Why?”

“I just need you to come over.”

He looks flustered, twisting his shirt in his hands as he walks over.

“Are you dry?”

He nods.

“Are you sure?”

He nods again but I’m standing close to him, pulling his hips towards me and easing down the elastic of his shorts.

“Why are you doing that? I said I’m dry!”

“Because I don’t trust you.” His pull-up is very clearly wet.

“Ugh, stop!” He tries to grab at my wrist.

“No,” I tell him firmly. “That’s enough attitude today. You’re going to sit over there”—I point—“for five minutes. I’ll set a timer and if you’re ready to apologize and be good we can stop at five.”

He frowns as he walks over to the fence and sits down.

I set the timer and sit down on the porch chair, picking up my book.

I look up at two and a half minutes and see that tears have started to slide out of his eyes. I look back down at the page, but I feel a little bit bad. Or maybe he’s being dramatic. It’s such an easy punishment. It’s not like a spanking or anything.

At five minutes I walk across the grass to him and pull him to his feet. “I’m sorry,” he says.

“Can you use your words to tell me why you were acting out?”

“I don’t know.”

“Are you still sure you’re ready to be big?”

He shakes his head, looking down.

“No. Aw, see, you’re sucking your thumb again. You know that big kids don’t usually do that, right? And that they don’t usually drink from patterned plastic cups or wet their pants.”

He nods.

“It’s okay though! It’s okay if you’re still little.” I slip my hand into his. “I’m going to go in the house and get you a change, okay? We can clean you up out here and then you can get back to playing.”

“Can I have another pull-up?” he asks quietly.

“No, it’s not going to be another pull-up. I think you know that.”

He nods.

“Okay, I’ll be right back. Hang tight.”

Imagining a story about a cg trying to get their little/middle to “just go back to diapers” but the little/middle has too much pride to admit that potty-training really isn’t for them atm. They get distracted, have terrible executive function, and sometimes just don’t want to use the toilet, so why on earth would they prefer pull-ups? Well, “I’m not a baby anymore” Okay… sure…

He smiles up at her around his pacifier.

“I knew you’d be feeling better. You slept for a couple hours.” She gently pulls the blanket off him. “Oh, don’t sit up yet, honey. You soaked your pull-up. Let me help you.”

She pulls him up by his hands until he’s sitting up on the pad she put under him. It is very wet. And cold.

“That can’t be comfortable. We’ll get you changed.” She has the blanket bundled up in her hands. She turns it over. “Oh, this is wet, too.”

He looks away, one hand fidgeting with the corner of the pad. “Sorry…”

She shrugs. “We’ll just throw it in the wash.” She drops the blanket on the floor next to the couch and helps him stand up. He tugs at the bottom of his pull-up.

“Oh, yeah, definitely not comfy anymore, huh?”

He shakes his head. He’s all the way awake, now, and he doesn’t feel sick anymore, but he still feels really little and he isn’t sure why. He almost feels like he’s going to cry.

She must have noticed his face twitch or his forehead wrinkle. “Heyy…oh my goodness.” She puts her arms around him and squeezes him. “Let’s go take a shower.”

But it’s just him who gets in the bathtub. She helps him get the wet pull-up off, and he realizes how turned on he is as it falls on the shower floor with a wet thud.

She turns on the telephone shower head and takes it down, rinsing his belly and legs. He starts to pee again without really thinking about it.

“Aw, you needed to go more, huh?” She stands up and he sits down so that she can hold the shower head over him and wash his hair. He’s stuck looking down at his erection.

“I think you need another pull-up after we dry you off,” she says, turning off the water. “Are you gonna be okay with that?”

He nods. He really wants another pull-up.

“Okay, let’s step out of the shower. There.” She wraps him in a towel and runs her fingers through his wet hair. “Can you pick one out of the drawer?”

He squats down to pull the drawer open and rifles through it.

“That one?” she asks, taking the purple pull-up from him. He nods. He knows they’re meant to be the girl design but somehow they make him feel safer than the blue ones sometimes, when he feels really little and helpless.

He holds the pull-up while she rubs lotion on his legs and privates. She seems to be ignoring that fact that he’s hard and a little leaky. He doesn’t mind.

“Okay, give that to me, honey.” She holds it out and he steps into it, arms on her shoulders. “It’s a good thing you stayed home from work today, huh? Even if you’re feeling better now, you’re still too little to work today.”

He nods and she takes his hand, leading him to the bedroom. She pulls open the drawer of his dresser and takes out three different shirts and three pairs of shorts. “Which ones do you want to wear, baby?”

He shakes his head.

“Is that too hard? Okay, we’ll put one back.” She picks up his green shirt with the puppy on it and his black shorts and puts them away. “Okay, it’s two choices now. What do you want me to dress you in?”

He points at his yellow and blue stripey shirt and green shorts. “Okay, help me get these on over your pull-up. You can button them. You can do it, honey. You did it yesterday and this morning. There we go. You got it.”

She pulls his shirt over his head and then picks up the pacifier from on top of the dresser and clips it to his shirt. “There. Now that’s easy access in case you need it. Do you need to sit on my lap for a little bit?”

He nods, and she climbs up on the bed and he climbs onto her lap. She rubs his hair again, kissing his cheek and then his lips. He doesn’t notice his hips rocking back and forth until she puts one hand on his waist. “Are you hard still?”

He nods, face hot. He’s not sure why he feels so embarrassed. She already noticed that he was hard in the bathroom.

“Are you wet?”

He buries his face in her shoulder and nods. “I think so.”

“A different kind of wet, huh? You always get so leaky when you’re turned on. More than any other boy I’ve ever met.”

He whines into her shoulder.

“You’re not going to get very much friction at all humping the air like that,” she says, folding one leg up and grabbing his waist again, centering him over her thigh. “Start humping that. There you go.”

When he gets shy and starts to slow down she places a steady, firm hand on his lower back and pulls him closer. “You can go harder. There. Are you close?”

He whimpers. “I don’t want to ruin another pull-up.”

“It’s okay. You need to go. There you go, pretty boy. That’s the right way to do it. There.”

His breath hitches in his throat. “I’m going,” he gasps, sitting up between her legs and squeezing his thighs together.

“Does that feel good in your pull-up? I know if does. Are you almost done?”

my opinion on whether pull-ups are diapers or not is entirely dependent on which i am wearing and who im trying to tease in that moment. it’s a delicate equation.