Too Old to be Young - Chapter 19 – Part 1 of 3

 

Too Old to be Young

By Karen Singer

 

Chapter 19 – Part 1 of 3

 

Jim woke up Wednesday morning with an ache in his loins that overshadowed everything else that he felt.  An ache he knew already he would have no way at all to deal with.  Inside his thick nighttime diaper, he couldn’t even feel his penis, locked up inside that damn nub chastity device.  His entire consciousness wanted him to roll over and deal with his sexual ache, but what would be the point if for all intents and purposes, he didn’t even have a penis anymore…at least for the next week.  And maybe longer, depending on nothing more than a roll of a single die.  Torture!

His headphones were laying on the pillow next to him.  He could barely hear a bit of sound coming from them, playing his hypnotic recordings on an endless loop.  It was just too hard for him to sleep all night with that racket playing right in his ears all the time.  Once again he had gotten rid of the recording after a few hours of trying to sleep with it.  For once, he wasn’t as interested in whether or not he had slept through any of his peeing.  He was far more worried about the day ahead.

Beverly was taking him out this morning.  Demented Beverly was taking out out…where they were both going to get mani-pedi’s together.  Crazy demented Beverly was taking him out…where he was going to have his fingernails and toenails painted – red!  And he would be wearing that nail polish for the rest of the week, including in public – a lot!  And after that, he would be wearing other colors of nail polish, in public, from then on.  His sexual aching grew worse at the thought of it.  A sexual aching he could do nothing to quench.

Coffee!  He needed coffee!  As he got up from the bed and headed to the kitchen, the usual need to pee hit him.  He didn’t even think of holding back.

While his coffee maker brewed, he sat at his desk and tried to figure out what to do with himself.  He could have worked on whittling down the few remaining recordings he was listening to at night, but it didn’t seem to interest him.  Continuing working on his long story didn’t interest him.  Going through all his old stories didn’t interest him either.  Even searching the web for anything fun didn’t interest him.  Nothing interested him.  He finally went back to the kitchen where he filled a small baby bottle with coffee, plopped the hot bottle into a koozie to keep it hot and keep his hands from burning, and he took a drink.  He went back to his desk where he chewed on the bottle nipple while he tried to figure out what to do.

Finally giving up, he carried his bottle back to the bedroom and laid down.  Bad-news Beverly was taking him out this morning for a mani-pedi.  He’d be walking around in public from now on with nail polish like a sissy.  Something that would only be made more obvious later in the week when Jackie would make him start carrying a purse everywhere.

He had moved into this house to be alone with his fun.  But he had ruined all that when he met Jackie.  Now…his life was over!  All that, and for the next week, at least, he couldn’t even get the fun he so desperately wanted.  He laid on his back and stared at the ceiling for a long time.  Long enough that he was surprised when he heard his front door open and Jackie called out, “Hi Jim.”

“I’m in here!” Jim called back.

Jackie went in and found him lying on his bed.  “What’s up?” she asked.

Jim stared at her for a moment, the look on his face letting her know most of his thoughts.

“Worried about today?” Jackie said with a grin.

“Wouldn’t you be?” Jim asked sarcastically.

“Are you kidding?  It sounds like fun to me,” Jackie replied.

“You’re not me!”

Jackie laughed.  “You got yourself into this mess.”

Jim rolled his eyes and looked away from her.  “Don’t remind me.  And speaking of mess…”

He got up from the bed.  Jackie unlocked his onesie and Jim quickly headed into the shower.  She had unlocked his onesie…why couldn’t she have unlocked his damn chastity device as well?

A single diaper (fortunately…and she had asked if he wanted something thicker).  A onesie locked over the diaper.  A nice shirt and a nice pair of pants.  And his black women’s heels.  No socks or hose of any kind.  He was about as ready to go as he could be…physically.  Not mentally at all.  He simply couldn’t imagine walking around having bright red nail polish on his fingers all the time.  He wasn’t even thinking about his toes.  All his shoes hid his toes anyway, so he didn’t care that much about it.  But his fingers!  How the heck was he supposed to go through life with colorful fingernails?  He simply couldn’t imagine it.

A few minutes before ten, his phone rang.  He noticed it was Beverly calling.  “Hello?”

“Hi Jim,” Bev replied.  “All set?”

He wasn’t, but there was no getting around it.  “Yeah.  I’ll be right there.”  He hung up his phone and headed out the door, remembering that in a few days he would be heading out the door with a purse on his arm as well.  That would be another thing he couldn’t handle.  He simply couldn’t imagine it.  Just like he couldn’t imagine wearing nail polish all the time now either.

Beverly was out her door by the time he was halfway across the street.  In minutes he was in her car letting her drive him to…a nail salon.  No, even if he wasn’t used to not holding back his pee all the time now, he would have peed his diaper anyway.  Fortunately, it was just a bit of dampness that leaked out.

Beverly was talking almost non-stop.  Fortunately, she wasn’t asking him any questions.  He was so preoccupied with what was about to happen that he mostly tuned her out as he worried about what lay ahead.  How was he supposed to act when he got there?  He didn’t have to worry about what everyone there would think about him.  He already had a pretty good idea about that.  Fortunately, they couldn’t see his diaper under his clothes.  He hoped!

Soak the feet, scrub the feet.  He didn’t care about any of that, except for the fact that it was all prolonging his embarrassment of just being there.  It was also prolonging the inevitable, having red nail polish applied to his toes.  He hadn’t heard what damn Beverly had said to the little woman working on his feet, but she had only looked at him…surprisingly, without laughing.  Everything from that point on had been all business.  Thank God!  With Beverly sitting right next to him and someone else working on her feet, he was forced to sit there and watch the little woman working on his feet, while Beverly talked to him…and both women working on them about her family.  Right then, he couldn’t have cared less about Bev’s family.  He knew she was just trying to distract him, but it wasn’t working.

And then it happened.  He watched as the woman opened the bottle of red nail color, and boom!  She started applying it to one of his toenails.  Red!  It stuck out like a neon sign against his pale skin.  One toe, then the next…while Bad News Beverly continued to chat next to him.  The only time he said anything was when she mentioned how nice the red color looked on his nails and asked him if he thought so too.  He said yes, but what he really wanted to do was jump up and run.

Ten red toenails, then the light to dry them, all while Beverly continued to talk about…he wasn’t even sure anymore.  The only thing he could concentrate on were his red toenails…and what else was soon to come. 

And then he got taken out of his chair and moved to a table where the woman started working on his hands…his fingers…his fingernails.  Cut and shape.  Buff.  Push the cuticles back.  Work, work, work.  Do this, do that…but he knew it was coming.  The red stuff.  And there it was.  The same bottle she had used on his now bright red toes.  He wanted to whimper as she opened the bottle.  It was all he could do to keep himself from making a sound.  Two seconds after he watched the first stroke of the bright red color being applied to one of his nails, he felt some pee being applied to the inside of his diaper.  He considered himself lucky he didn’t need to shit just then, because he might have.

One finger, two fingers, three….  Every stroke of the brush made the fingers of his hands more noticeable, more difficult to hide.  Every stroke of her brush cemented his fate of displaying to the entire world around him what a sissy he was.  Every stroke of her brush drove home the fact that he could never hide or deny what he was again.  It would all be far more public now than anything he ever wanted…like it or not.  What was he going to do?

He stared at his fingers and stared at them, unable to take his eyes off them.  He couldn’t even take his eyes off his fingers while they were in the dryer.  And when they came out, they were still just as red.  He had red nails!

Five minutes later, their bills paid, he followed Bad News Beverly out to her car where he was grateful to get in and out of sight.  Beverly mentioned a number of times how nice his nails looked now.  He said nothing.  He wasn’t capable of saying anything.  He just wanted to go home. 

But crazy Beverly seemed to have other ideas as she pulled into the parking lot of a drug store.

“Coming?” Beverly asked as she opened her door.

“What?”

“Aren’t you coming in?”

“What for?”

“Jim, I told you, I’ve got to pick up my prescriptions.  Weren’t you listening?”

He hadn’t been.  “Oh yeah,” he replied.  “Sorry.”

“Then come in with me.”

“Why?”

“Jim, you might as well get used to having those pretty red nails out in public.  So come in with me.  It’s not going to kill you!”

Ugh!  He wasn’t sure about that at all.  But he got out of the car, and doing his best not to look at his hands, he followed her inside and all the way to the back corner where she stood in line to get her medicines…while he stood to the side and stuck his hands in his pockets.  After Beverly got her pills, he kept his hands in his pockets while she wandered through the store a bit shopping.  It felt like an hour before they went back to the car, even though it hadn’t been that long at all.  He just wanted to go home…which again didn’t happen.

Jim wanted to scream when instead of going home, Beverly pulled into the lot of a restaurant.  She didn’t really expect him to go in there did she?  But he knew already that she did.  With his hands in his pockets again, he followed her inside.  He did his best to talk politely with Beverly while they waited for their food to be delivered, but he kept his hands under the table as much as possible.  But he couldn’t keep them there to eat.  No matter how much he tried not to notice them, his eyes still caught sight of his fingernails as he ate.  If he was trying not to see his hands and he could still see that red color, how easy was it for everyone else around him to notice his fingernails too?  Too easy!  Paying his bill was another exercise in feeling humiliated.  Fortunately, not one person mentioned his red fingernails, even though he knew for a fact that both the waitress had stared at them and so did the woman taking his money.

As he got back in Beverly’s car, he prayed that she would finally take him home.  Fortunately, she did.  As soon as he said goodbye to her and finally got back into the safe confines of his house, his cellphone rang.  Jackie!  “Hello?”

“Jim!  Come over and let me see.”

“Now?”

“Why not?  It’s not like you need to stop for a minute and use the bathroom or anything.”

She did have a point.  With no reason to delay it, he headed next door.  Jackie already had her door open.  He didn’t even get inside before she grabbed his hands and held them so she could see.

“Lovely!” she declared.

He said nothing to that.  Five minutes later he was home again, sitting at his desk.  But all he could do was stare at his red fingernails.  What was he going to do?  How was he going to handle it?  He made a fresh pot of coffee, still constantly noticing his fingernails.  When the coffee was ready, he poured it into one of his small baby bottles.  He stuck the bottle in his mouth and sucked, and drank, and chewed on the nipple in his mouth for a very long time while he stared out the crack between the curtains at his backyard.  What was he going to do?

 

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On Thursday he was still trying to cope with having bright red fingernails.  At least he didn’t have to go anywhere that day…except he did, but it was just next door to Jackie’s house since she invited him over for lunch.  She mentioned how nice his nails looked.  He had no comment about that.  He was more concerned now about what would happen the next day.  Friday.  Purse day.  Jackie never once mentioned it, so he didn’t.  But that didn’t mean he didn’t constantly worry about it.

 

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