Too Old to be Young - Chapter 9 – Part 1 of 2

 Got hit by something, collapsed, hurt myself falling, and woke up in the hospital.  I'm home now, but it's going to be a long recovery.  Luckily I've got a few posts ready to go.

Too Old to be Young

By Karen Singer

 

Chapter 9 – Part 1 of 2

 

Had she made a big mistake?  Had she done the wrong thing?  She had worried about it all night.  Now, with the new day, her body seemed to ache more than ever.  But it had rained last night, and from the sound of things outside her bedroom, it was still raining.  She got up, took her pills, and started the coffee making. 

Had she made a real mistake with what she was doing with Jim?  The worry ate away at her.  Yes, she had been having fun.  Yes, she knew for a fact that he had been enjoying it too, but really, had she gone too far with him now?  She could only conclude that if she was that worried about it, then she had. 

Jim had tried to end it yesterday.  He had demanded that it be over, and she had ignored his pleas in favor of the original agreement that he wouldn’t be able to back out of.  And yes, she could admit, that some of what they did to him yesterday had been fun, but really, had it all been a big mistake?  And if it was a mistake, what should she do about it?

She carried her cup of coffee back to bed to wait for her pills to kick in, but she didn’t read like she usually did.  She was too preoccupied with wondering just how big a mistake she had made with Jim yesterday.  And then there was the next part of the problem.  How should she fix it?

Hating herself.  Hating the situation, she got out of bed and got dressed.  Half an hour later, she huddled under her umbrella as she walked across her lawn over to Jim’s house.  She was tempted to knock, but she didn’t.  She opened the door and went inside.  She found him lying on his back in his bed with his eyes closed.  If it wasn’t for his breathing, she would have worried that he was dead.  Leaving him asleep, she went to his kitchen and started the coffee maker brewing.

While the coffee dripped into the pot, she went back to his bedroom.  He was still lying there, but this time his eyes were open.  She figured he must have heard her in the kitchen.

“Can you take this thing off me now?” he pleaded.  “It’s been on so long that it’s really starting to hurt.  It almost burns now.”

She walked over to the bed.  “I can’t yet,” she told him.  “Not because of anything you might think, but only because I gave Beverly the keys yesterday and I forget to get them later.  I’d rather you put up with the pain just a little longer.  Bev likes to sleep in.  I’ll phone her in a little while.”

He rolled his eyes and turned his head the other way. 

“Coffee?” she asked.

“No.  Not now.”

She pulled back his covers, exposing the thick diaper.  It was definitely wet, but as usual, it was also so thick, she was sure it could hold much more.  No rush there.

“Will you remove the thing today?” he asked.

She nodded.  “Just as soon as I feel it’s late enough for me to call Bev.  It’s early yet.  We’ll give her another half-hour.”  She could tell he wasn’t happy, but what choice did he have?

“Sure you don’t want some coffee?” she asked.  “It should be ready in a few minutes.”

“Later.  When I don’t hurt so much.”

“How did you sleep last night?” she asked.

“I didn’t!”

“You were asleep when I got here.”

“I didn’t sleep much,” he told her.

“Move over a bit,” she told him.  “Let me join you.”  As he moved over, she climbed up on top of the bed, stretching her legs out.  “This damn rain has me aching horribly,” she told him.

“And I just plain hurt!” he told her.  “You know where, and you know why.”

“Yes, and we’ll take care of that soon enough.  Just be patient.”

“Look,” he said.  “I’m sorry I did what I did yesterday.  It was all just too much for me.  I know I agreed that you would make me do it all, like it or not, but it all just became too much.”

“I’m sure it did,” she replied.  “I knew from the start that you would reach that point.”

“Which is why you bought…that thing,” he said, looking down toward his thick diaper.

“Exactly,” she replied.  “But now that we’ve come this far, the question is, where do we go from here…if anywhere?”

“Huh?  What are you talking about?”

“Ending it.  Stopping it.  Letting you go.”

“You’re letting me free?” he asked excitedly.  “Ending the agreement?”

“Maybe,” she replied.  “I guess everything depends on how much fun you’ve been having, versus how frightened you’ve been and desperate to end it all.”

“Pretty damn frightened.  I couldn’t even walk down to the end of my driveway to check my mail.”

“And what if you did?  What if you did walk down there, in your high heels, and checked the mail.  What if someone drove by and saw you?  So what?”

“So what?”

“Yes.  So what?”

He thought about it.  “I don’t know.”

“Do you really think anything would have come of it?”

“Maybe not.”

“Almost certainly not!  And what if they did actually notice your shoes, what’s the worst they might do?  Stop and say hello?  Ask why you’re wearing them?”

“I don’t know.”

“What would you do if you saw some strange man wearing heels while he checked his mail?”

“Probably nothing, but I sure would wonder about it.”

“Exactly!  Now what if you were out somewhere and saw a man wearing women’s shoes in public.  What would you do?”

“I’d look!”

“But would you say anything?”

“No.  Probably not.”

“And what if you were in that position, wearing women’s shoes in public, and someone did actually say anything?”

“I don’t know.  I guess it would depend on what they said to me.”

“Maybe.  But would you be breaking any laws?”

“Not that I know of.”

“So if you’re within your rights to wear them, then why not?”

“Because…I don’t know.”

“It’s not normal?”

“Yes!  Everyone would laugh at me.”

“You just said that if you saw someone wearing shoes like that, you’d look, but you probably wouldn’t say anything at all, and I’m sure that includes laughing.  But say, suppose someone did come up to you and ask why you were wearing them, what would you say?”

“I don’t know.”

“Okay, pretend you’re out grocery shopping and you’re wearing those high heels you’ve got.  You’re pushing your cart around the store minding your own business.  I see you in one of the aisles.  If we’re both shopping, then I’ve probably noticed you a few times already.  But this time, I stop and ask, why are you wearing those shoes?  What would you say?”

“I don’t know!”

“Go with it Jim.  What would you say?  I just asked you why you’re out in public wearing women’s high heels.”

“Um…”

“There’s not a lot of choices for your answer is there.”

“Uh…not that I can think of.”

“You can tell me it’s because of a bet, but what if I see you wearing them again the next time I’m out.  The bet excuse isn’t going to hold up.”

“So what do I do?”

“How about telling the truth.”

“That I’m wearing them because a deranged woman and her friends are making me wear only women’s shoes from now on?”

Jackie burst out laughing.  “Deranged!  Yes, I think you could probably call me that.  But I’m seventy-four years old, and I don’t care.  In fact, it’s probably the truth.  But back to the question.  Yes, you certainly could say that, and it would certainly be the truth, but do you really think anyone would believe it.”

“It would be the truth!”

“Yes.  But maybe not the only truth.”

“What else is there?”

“How about telling them that you love women’s shoes, and you enjoy wearing them?”

“Tell them that?”

“It’s the truth, isn’t it?  That’s the whole reason why you wanted us to keep you in them, isn’t it?”

It took him only a moment of thinking.  “Yeah,” he agreed reluctantly.

“So now you’ve told someone that you love women’s shoes, and you enjoy wearing them.  What’s going to happen?”

“They’ll laugh at me.”

“Maybe they will, maybe they won’t.  What if they do?”

“I’d be embarrassed as hell!”

“Sure.  But isn’t that part of your fantasies too?  Doesn’t being forced to wear them hinge on the embarrassment factor?  Wasn’t that a major consideration as to why you agreed to have us keep you in those shoes from now on?”

“It was a bad decision.”

“But was it the truth?”

“Yes!  Okay?  So what?”

“So that’s my question.  So what if they laugh at you.  What’s the worst that can happen now?”

“What do you mean?  They’re already laughing.”

“But is there anything more that they’ll do?”

“I don’t know.  Get everyone else laughing at me?”

“Jim, put yourself in their shoes…figuratively this time…what’s the most likely thing someone who laughs at you a bit is going to do?”

“I don’t know.  Keep shopping?”

“More than likely.  They might talk to you a bit about it, but hey, what’s the harm in discussing the kind of shoes you really like with someone else, especially after you’ve already told them that you like wearing them?”

“It would be embarrassing.”

“More embarrassing than getting laughed at…and that’s if they laugh at you in the first place, which I’d be willing to bet doesn’t happen.  If it was me seeing you, I’d be amused and curious, but I wouldn’t laugh out loud at you.  I might…and I emphasize, might…ask you about your shoes, but I probably wouldn’t.  And if I did decide to ask you about them, yes, I’d be curious, but I have no doubt I’d find it interesting.  Especially if I could tell if you were being honest with me about your answers.  And Jim, I have no doubt that most people would be able to tell if you’re being honest about something like that.”

“Huh!” he grunted.

“So…” she said.  “If you were wearing heels out in public somewhere, and someone came up to you, clearly amused by what you’re wearing, and they decided to ask you why you’re wearing them, how bad would it really be?  Would it be the stuff of your dreams?  Would it actually turn you on?  And after you got home, how often would you think and dream about it?  How often would you…get yourself off over it?  How…precious would that memory actually be to you?”

He looked at her, shocked, but didn’t answer.

“Jim,” she finally said.  “How bad would it be?  Would it be a good thing, or something desperately bad?”  When he still didn’t answer, she added, “From everything I know about you so far, I’m guessing you really wouldn’t mind it that much at all…and that’s if you don’t wind up cuming in your diapers while it’s actually happening!”  She nearly laughed as his face registered shock.  “Is it possible that could happen?” she laughed.

“No!”

“Maybe not,” she replied, but how long would it take after you got home before you start trying to get yourself off over the memory of it?”

He shook his head.  “I’d be rushing to do it,” he admitted.

She chuckled a bit.  “I’ve no doubt.  And how about wearing the diapers in public?  That’s an entirely separate issue.  How bad would that be for you?”

“As long as they don’t show, it’s not that much of a problem,” he replied.  “And I already checked the mirror.  “I don’t know about the thick diapers like I’m wearing now, but so far, I can’t see the thin ones under my pants.”

“So no problem there.  But how would it make you feel wearing them out into the stores under your clothes?”

“Huh!  Excited.  Scared.  Horney!”  He turned to look at her.  “Did I mention scared?”

“Why scared if nobody can see them?”

“I don’t know, but I’m sure I would be.”

“But the bottom line for you there, is that wearing the diapers out in public would be fun.  True?”

“Maybe.  Yes!” he finally conceded.

She laughed.  “Want to know what one of the big questions I’ve been thinking about is?”

“What?”

“If you go into a shoe store to buy women’s shoes, while wearing diapers and high heels, would you wet yourself just going through the door?”

He looked at her with a shocked expression on his face.

“What do you think?” she teased.  “Would you?”

He shook his head.  “No.  I’d be too scared.”

“Oh.  Yeah, I can see that.  If you’re that scared, you’d be all tensed up and you probably wouldn’t be able to pee.”

“No.  I wouldn’t,” he agreed.  A moment later, he chuckled a laugh too.  “But I guess it is possible.  It might happen.”

She looked at him and smiled, “Thought so,” she said.  She looked down at the bed and became serious again.  “So I guess that brings us back to my originally question.  Where do we go from here?”

“You mean, keep going, or finally quit?  Finally put an end to it?”

She shook her head.  “To me, it be a shame to end it all now, now that you’ve got the chance to actually do what you’ve been dreaming about, but haven’t.”

“What do you mean?”

“We gave you the opportunity to fulfill your dreams.  And you haven’t even had the chance to experience it yet.  You haven’t even tried to experience it yet.”

“No,” he agreed.  “In truth, I’ve been too afraid of just leaving my house.”

“And if you had another chance, what would you do?”

He considered it, then said, “I don’t know.  I honestly don’t know.  On the one hand, that’s why I agreed to let you do it in the first place.  It was…my fantasies.  But on the other hand, the reality of it hit’s hard.  Very hard!  Fantasies and reality.  Fantasies should remain just that, nothing but dreams.  They should have no place in real life.”

“But without dreams, nothing would have ever been accomplished in this world.  Dreams have built this entire world.”

“Not my kind of dreams.  My kind of dreams don’t accomplish anything.  They should remain just that, dreams…fantasies.”

“Oh, I don’t know.  I have a feeling that making your fantasies and dreams come true may have been better for you than you think.  Even staying hidden in your house, how much enjoyment have you gotten out of this?  I mean really?”

“Are you kidding?  None!”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes I’m sure.  This has been a nightmare from beginning to end.”

“Jim.  Be honest, are you sure?  I know you’ve got to have been…and I’ll use the ‘M’ word here…masturbating over it all.”

“Sure.  Yes.”  He shook his head.  “A lot.  Every damn day.”

“Which means you’ve been enjoying it.  Probably a lot.”

“Yes!  Okay?  Damn, it was all the stuff of my dreams.”

“So once again, where do we go from here?  Do we end it, or keep you having the time of your life?”

“The time of my life?”

“Yes!”

He thought about it.  “I just…don’t know.”

She shook her head and sighed, then climbed down from his bed.  “I’ve got to pee,” she said, “and I can’t very well do that here.”

“Need to borrow a diaper?”

She smiled.  “No thanks!  While I’m home, I’ll call Bev and get that key.”