Helpless for the Summer – Chapter 3
I awoke to the pain in my wrists; the medication was good, but it didn’t last forever and in the dimness of the early morning my wrists dully ached, a constant reminder of how my summer was ruined. Something else penetrated the pain. I was wet.
My fingers touched the plastic-like material of the pull-up, but the pain in my wrists left my fingers numb and I couldn’t tell by touch how wet I became. I wanted to take one of those magical little pills that numbed my pain. The problem with it, it made me sleep so soundly, my bladder seemed to fail when I slept under its influence. I vowed, as I moved over to the edge of my bed, not to take the pain pill the next night. Better to deal with the pain than to wet myself at night.
When I scrambled out of bed, I looked back and breathed a sigh of relief. From what I could see in the dim light of early morning, my sheets appeared dry. It was bad enough I had to ask Mom’s help to change the pull-up. How much worse my humiliation would have been if she had to change my bedding too.
I wasn’t sure when I peed my pull-ups during the night, but thinking about it was enough to trigger something inside me. I had to pee again, and soon. Worse still, I also needed to take a dump. A quick glance out my window showed the sun wasn’t quite up. It was still very early. But any thought of lying down died when my intestines gurgled. I really had to go.
I was wearing a diaper; I toyed briefly with the idea of letting Mom sleep and taking care of all my business in the pull-up. But the idea of sitting in my own filth turned my stomach and with another groan from my intestines, my discomfiture overcame my embarrassment and I headed toward Mom’s bedroom.
Her door was open. She always slept with her door open. I guess it was so that she could hear me if I called during the night. There was a bit of light filtering through her curtains, letting me see her sleeping form on her bed. The clock on her nightstand showed it was halfway between six and seven in the morning. No wonder she was still asleep. We were not early risers in the summer.
At some point, Mom had kicked the covers off her bed, and I found myself staring at her sleeping form. I was mesmerized by what I saw. She wore a tank-top with my school’s mascot and a pair of peach-colored panties. That was it! I was stunned. Mom dressed modestly around the house and usually expected the same of me. While it was true, she really didn’t care what I slept in, the rest of the time she expected me to wear at least a pair of shorts around the house. And until that moment, I had never seen her in less than shorts and a t-shirt.
She looked so peaceful. Without meaning to, I stared at her chest. The thin cotton of her tank-top let me see the outline of her nipples as well as the swelling of her breasts. I don’t recall ever seeing her without a bra on before, and I couldn’t keep myself from staring. I’d never seen my mom like this. The way my school’s mascot bent around her boob was hot. It reminded me of Tonya Reese. She was a girl I sat next to at school. She was in my homeroom through the end of the school year. I liked Tonya. Or more accurately, I liked looking at Tonya, even though some of the other guys gave her a lot of crap about her boobs, because they weren’t very big. Still, as I gaped at Mom’s chest, even though her boobs weren’t that much bigger than Tonya’s, they looked sexy to me.
I let my eyes fall on her panties. This was unfamiliar territory for me. I’d never seen Mom so exposed. The particular shade of peach nearly matched her skin, making it almost look like she was naked below the waist. I’ve seen some pictures at school and I knew women had a thick bush of hair down there. But if Mom did, her panties hit it from view. The last thing I noticed as I stared at her underwear was the indention at the bottom of her panties. One of my friends in school would have called it her camel toe. I’d seen girly magazines before, so I knew the crease was her slit.
I felt some pressure in my pull-ups. Oh, no! This wasn’t good. My dick stirred to life, poking at the wetness of the front of my diaper. It couldn’t have happened at a worse time. Not when I had to pee and take a dump.
I don’t know if I made a noise, but Mom shifted and stretched on her bed as she woke up. I don’t think she noticed how long I had stood there, so I tapped the open door, “Hey Mom, you awake?”
“Mmm hmm,” she murmured. Then her eyes opened, “You need to go to the bathroom, baby?”
I nodded, even as I tried thinking of something other than my mom’s boobs or panties. I was reaching a crisis point; Even though she’d seen me once the previous day with an erection, that wasn’t something I wanted a repeat of. But my bladder and bowels would not the be denied. “Yeah. Gotta go.”
Still waking up, she slid off the bed and followed me into the bathroom. I don’t know if she even realized at that moment how little she wore.
When I reached the toilet, I turned toward her as she asked, “Is it wet?”
Feeling my cheeks turn hot from shame, I nodded, “Yeah. And I gotta do number two, too.”
Mom’s sleepiness seemed to fall away as she grinned, “A number two, too? That’s a lot of toos.”
After another yawn, she shook her head as though trying to get rid of her sleepiness, “It’s like yesterday, baby. I’m going to need to take this off. Is that okay?”
No, it really wasn’t. I was still erect. I couldn’t get Mom’s boobs or panties out of my mind. My body had other ideas. My intestines made a loud noise and even though I clenched my butt-cheeks, I farted. Rather than wait any longer, I nodded silently.
She grabbed the pull-up’s waistband at my hips and tugged them down. She didn’t say anything when my erection popped free, although when it did, it swung up and slapped my abdomen before pointing upwards. As soon as the pull-ups were at my feet, I sat down and scrunched over my groin, resting my elbows on my knees.
Mom retreated with the wet pull-up as my bowels opened up and my butt made wet farting noises. As she disappeared out the bathroom door, she said, “I’ll let you finish that up.”
I tried to clear my mind as I kept going to the bathroom. But when Mom had hurried out, my eyes had glanced at her butt. I don’t understand why, but the way her panties clung to her backside was better than anything I had seen in one of the sexy magazines my friends and I had stolen glances of in the bathroom at school. When clearing my mind didn’t work, I tried thinking about Tonya Reese. That should have been easier. Since discovering how much fun jacking off could be, Tonya had been a favorite fantasy of mine. But every time I tried to imagine Tonya, I saw Mom. That only made my erection all the harder. It seemed like it took forever for me to finish peeing. Mom was back at the door by the time I was done.
I was still hunched over myself when she said, “You finished, Kel?”
I wanted to shake my head. My penis wasn’t behaving itself. But my bladder and bowels were empty and I could see she knew it. I don’t know why, but my eyes began to water. Sure, my wrists hurt pretty badly right then, but that wasn’t why I was tearing up. I didn’t want Mom to think I was some kind of perv, getting erect around her all the time. What would she think?
Mom came over, “Hey, Kel, it’s okay. We’ll get you cleaned up and into a dry diaper, then get you some medicine for the pain.”
She flushed the toilet, “Unless you were planning on taking a picture of that, no reason to let it stay.”
Despite the horrible discomfiture we felt, I couldn’t help smiling at Mom’s attempt at humor. At least until she took me by the arm and pulled me to my feet. My erection popped back into view. Her eyes went to it and a look of sympathy filled her face, “Don’t worry about that, baby. It’s just your body dealing with itself. We’re going to get you cleaned up and then put one of the cloth diapers on you.”
Hearing the words cloth diaper, I temporarily forgot about my boner and I groaned, “Mom, do I have to wear a diaper? It’s so embarrassing.”
Mom guided me toward her bedroom, where she had set up a changing station, “I’m afraid so, Kel. Between the way your pain meds are messing with your bladder and just the entire issue of not having use of your hands, I don’t see another option.”
In her bedroom, Mom patted the changing pad on the edge of her bed, “Climb on up here, babe and roll onto your back for me.”
My butt was still a mess, so I was careful climbing onto the changing pad, and even more careful as I shifted myself around until I was lying on my back. I felt vulnerable, lying helplessly, waiting for Mom to clean me and put a diaper on me. Worse, my penis was still as hard as ever, although now that I was on my back, it lay against my abdomen.
Mom said, “Pull your knees up, Kel. I need to wipe you clean.”
I followed her instructions, pulling my knees against my chest. I felt something wet and cool touch my backside as she said, “Heavens, Kel. I’d forgotten how messy spaghetti was on the back end. Give me a moment more.”
Mom’s fingers, or maybe it was the wet wipes, touched my nut-sack a couple of times as she cleaned my back door. Then she sprinkled some baby powder on my butt and on my front. She took a large rectangular towel and folded it a few times before she slid it under me, “Almost finished, Kel. Just need to fold it over and pin it in place.”
It was when she folded it over that my erection got in the way again. Exasperated, Mom said, “Does it ever go down, babe?”
I flushed three shades of red. I wanted to crawl into a hole and die. Mom had just talked about my erection! The horror. I certainly wasn’t going to tell her what I did to make it go away. Not on my life. I mumbled, “Eventually.”
Mom shook her head, “Boys!”
Then she pinned the cloth diaper on the right side. Next, much to my surprise, she took my erection and pushed it down enough to pin the left side of the diaper closed. It was her turn to mumble, “Sorry, sweetie.”
I woke up that morning to an angel. The dim light from my window seemed to cast a halo over Kelly’s head as he stood at my door. As I woke up, I realized he was practically dancing in place as he pointed toward his diaper, which sagged between his legs, a sure sign I recalled from when he was little, of a soggy diaper.
My voice sounded scratchy, “You need to go to the bathroom, baby?”
Kelly nodded, “Yeah, gotta go. And also, number two, too.”
The homophones sounded silly in my ears as I finally woke up. “A number two, too? That’s an awful lot of toos. Still, I followed Kelly to the bathroom and added, “Sorry to say, sweetie, it’s going to be like yesterday. I’m going to have to take your pull-up off.”
Instead of a normal response, Kelly farted after his body made a loud intestinal noise.
I couldn’t help but smiling at his nervousness. I certainly could understand. I barely remembered changing his diaper as a baby. It had been so long ago. He didn’t have any recollection at all and had to find the whole thing completely disconcerting.
Taking his body’s response as a yes, I pulled his pull-ups down. Just like the previous day, Kelly’s boner popped into view when it cleared the elastic waistband. I kept a serious face when it loudly slapped his smooth pubic area. Once I pulled the soggy diaper off, he sat down as fast as possible before hunching down, trying to hide his embarrassment.
I turned to leave with the wet diaper when I realized I hadn’t gotten dressed when Kelly woke me up. I was way off my morning routine, even for a summer morning. Normally, even in the summer, I was up well before my son. And I had plenty of time to get dressed and take care of my morning routine. And as I slipped out of the bathroom, leaving behind the stench of a bowel movement, I felt a bit scandalized in just a tank-top and panties. I could only imagine how Kelly must feel. He had no choice but to let me see him in the most uncomfortable of situations. That’s when I realized, as bare as I felt, what I wore and what I was experiencing paled compared to what Kelly was going through.
I found some plastic bags in the pantry and dropped the diaper into the bag. After tying the bag and tossing it into the garbage, I went back to the bathroom where Kelly hunched over, hiding himself from my eyes.
After getting him into my bedroom and onto the changing pad on my bed, I had Kelly pull his legs up to his chest, exposing his backside to me. It took several wet-wipes to get him cleaned and I could see his pinkish-brown sphincter winking at me. A couple of times, by accident, my hand brushed against his scrotum. That did nothing to stop his erection, which remained hard.
I grabbed a cloth towel and folded it over. It was when I was pinning one corner of the towel to another that I quipped, “Does it ever go down, babe?”
The look on his face told me I had said the wrong thing. Instantly, I regretted it even as he mumbled, “Eventually.”
I wanted to hide my shame at making him so embarrassed, I just muttered, “Boys.”
Still, my eyes were drawn to it like a compass. It’s impossible to not make comparisons. And Kelly was smaller than any of those boys I’d seen when I was eleven. But not that much smaller. From base to the tip of his circumcised glans, he was all of four and a half inches and his little scrotum hung under his thin pole. Would I be happier if my son was closer to the fifty-percentile? Sure. What mother wouldn’t? Even so, exposed like that, I found myself thinking that he was simply beautiful.
I needed to be done. Seeing my son’s penis wasn’t good for my mental health. I could not pin the last part of the cloth diaper closed without doing something about Kelly’s erection. Quickly and gently, I touched the fleshy tube and pushed it down. Then I pinned the cloth diaper closed, trapping Kelly’s erection inside the diaper.
I couldn’t shake loose of what Kelly felt like when I took hold of him. He was at once hard as steel and yet soft and smooth. But I had to put those thoughts aside. I grabbed a pair of rubber pants I’d found in the attic and slid them onto his legs and around the cloth diaper. The rubber pants had been a gift from some ladies at a nearby church when Kelly had been a baby. There had been various sizes in the collection, including a couple of pairs big enough for Kelly even now.
Kelly slid his legs down, letting them drape off the edge of the bed. The shame of his body’s betrayal and of being seen naked by his mom had taken a toll on him. Right then, I wished he hadn’t broken his wrists, and that this wasn’t necessary. I pulled him to a sitting position before I joined him on the edge of the bed. I wrapped my arm around his shoulder and pulled him into a hug, “You’re the bravest boy I know, Kel. All this has gotta be difficult, but you did great, baby.”
He shuddered and sighed, “I’m trying, Mom. When you saw me, um, lying down just a moment ago, I wanted to crawl into a hole and pull it in with me. Even when I got pants’d in the fifth grade, I wasn’t as embarrassed.”
Mentioning the pantsing in the fifth grade brought back the tears and shame Kelly had felt when I found out that day nearly three years earlier. If this felt worse, I could hardly imagine what he was going through. And this was only the start of the second day. We still had six weeks with those splint braces. I rubbed his back, “It’ll get easier, Kel.”
“Really?” his pure soft voice sounded earnest. I could tell he wanted to believe me, even feeling as bad as he did.
“I promise, Kel,” I said as I rubbed his bare back. Feeling his soft skin under my fingers reminded me we needed to get dressed. I was about to mention it when I thought about how difficult it would to get him into and out of his shorts or jeans. It was pretty clear, if Kelly needed to go to the bathroom, I was going to be the one taking his diaper off. Maybe more clothes were a bad idea.
I followed up on that idea, “You know, baby, one thing we can do now to make things easier is to do away with your summer dress code. If you don’t want to wear anything more than what you’ve got on now, that’ll be fine. You can leave the shorts and shirts for when we need to go out.”
Kelly leaned into my hug. He seemed to enjoy the contact as much as I was. “Thanks, Mom. Even though I feel really weird wearing this, shorts over it would feel even weirder. The room fell silent for a bit before he glanced at me with an inscrutable expression. “What about you?”
I wasn’t wearing much more than him, sitting in just my panties and a tank-top. That scandalized feeling I had earlier returned. What must my boy be thinking about me wearing so little? I wasn’t sure how to answer him. On one hand, it had been years since he’d seen me in as little as I wore now, and I was most comfortable around him in shorts, a t-shirt, and bra. But on the other hand, I was relaxing the dress code for Kelly and there wasn’t any harm in relaxing it for me too.
I nodded, “Yeah, maybe I’ll relax the dress code for me too.”
Then I thought about Kelly’s earlier erections. Could his reaction be because of me? Uncertain, I added, “Well, as long as you’re not uncomfortable about it.”
Knowing my son better than anyone else, his silence caught me off guard. Perhaps he was even more worried about his body’s reaction than I’d thought. After the uncomfortable silence dragged on longer than it should have, Kelly said, “What? You’re going to wear a diaper too?”
That wasn’t what I expected. I sucked in a breath in surprise, “What? Me, wear a diaper?”
For the first time since bringing Kelly home from the doctor’s office, he giggled, “Oh, that would be so cool, Mom.”
But after another long, uncomfortable moment, the shamed look returned, and he tilted his head when he looked up, “Would you? If I asked?”
It was my turn to contribute to the uncomfortable silence. I opened my mouth to offer a resounding no. Hell, I’m twenty-eight years old and way too old for diapers. The only reason for Kelly to wear them was to keep accidents to a minimum. But the look of humiliation and shame in his eyes held my tongue. He had nobody with whom to share this embarrassment. As much as I tried, perhaps even I didn’t fully understand his humiliation. Even though I was the only person who would be there for him, I was also the one person who would see his every humiliation, his every shame.
I felt ashamed about how I nearly slammed his request. It was my turn for tears to pool in my eyes as I softly nodded, “Yeah, baby. If you asked, I suppose I would.”
A tear spilled down Kelly’s cheek as he tried to lean in even closer. His hands stretched around my waist, “I need another hug, Mom.”
The silence that descended now lacked the awkwardness of before, as we sat on the edge of the bed hugging one another. We might have gone on, save that Kelly’s stomach rumbled, reminding us we had yet to eat.
I stood, “Come on, Kel. Let’s get some breakfast in us.”
Copyright 2021 – Caliboy1991
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