The Legend of Bastien - Chapter 4 – Ready or Not

 

The Legend of Bastien

By Karen Singer

 

Chapter 4 – Ready or Not

 

Tess checked her clock and finally got out of bed.  Since she hadn’t slept, she had done a lot of thinking last night, and she had come to a conclusion.  As bad as it sounded, the only way she knew of that she could help her son, was to be strong for him.  To be tough.  And unfortunately, perhaps cruel.  As strong as she was sure her son was, she knew he was going to need her strength and guidance.  The problem though was that just then she didn’t feel very strong at all.  And as to guiding him, she wasn’t sure how.  But there were a few things she had decided.  Things he wasn’t going to like.  Things she didn’t like either.  But they were both stuck with the situation and neither of them had a choice.

It was an hour earlier than she usually got him up for school.  Not only had Billy told him last night before they left the store to make sure he got to school early, but she knew they were going to need all that time.  She went into his room to wake him up, but when she turned the light on, she could see his eyes were already open.  “Good morning,” she said as lovingly as she could.  She sat down on the edge of his bed and kissed his forehead.  She could see how red his eyes were.  And was that fear in his eyes, or madness?  Maybe both.  Had he cried as much last night as she had?  She was sure he had.  More than likely, like her, he hadn’t slept a wink either. 

She swallowed.  It was time to be tough now.  For him.  “Get up,” she told him.  “There’s lots to do before you can go to school.”

“Like what?”

“Like getting ready.”

“Who cares?”

“Me!  And you!  Like it or not, you have to care!”

“And what if I don’t?”

“Then care anyway!”  Her voice softened.  “For me.”

He turned his head away.  She got up and pulled the covers off him.  “Up!” she told him in no uncertain terms.  She was happy to see him move.  As he sat up on the side of the bed, he looked strange wearing her pajamas.  Having his hair cut in bangs across his forehead made him look even stranger.  Her voice was soft when she asked.  “Are you wet?”

“No, but I’ve got to pee something fierce,” he told her.  “I’ve been fighting it for…ever!”

She sat next to him.  “Don’t fight it Chris.  You and I both know it’s going to be inevitable.”

“That doesn’t mean I want to do it.”

“Of course not.  I’m just saying, there’s no need to fight it like that.  It’s not going to do you any good.”

He jumped up from the bed and ran to the bathroom.  She ran after him, opening the door before he could close it all the way.  “Chris, don’t use the toilet,” she yelled quickly.  “We need to see…”  She stopped right there.  Chris was standing, staring at the toilet, but by the way his legs were bent, she had no doubt that he was wetting himself right then and there.  “As I was saying,” she said much softer.  “We need to find out if those diapers will hold it all when you wet them.”  She saw him look back at her.  His face was red, and he was crying again.

He let out a sob.  “I hate this!” he yelled angrily.

She rushed to him and pulled him into a tight embrace.  She wasn’t even sure if he was done peeing yet, but she held him tightly.  “I know,” she said.  “I know.  We’re just going to have to figure things out and do the best we can.”  She let him cry on her shoulder for a moment, then she pulled away.  “Come on, let’s get breakfast.”

She fixed eggs and toast for them both while he sat in a wet diaper and her flannel pajamas at the table.  She couldn’t help but notice how often he stared at the sparkly pink polish on his fingernails as he moved his hands and fingers all around.  She was tempted to say something about it, but she didn’t.  She noticed him still looking at his fingernails as they ate.  She was guessing that the color being on them was something so new to him that it was going to take a while for him to get used to.

After breakfast, she dragged him out into the middle of the living room.  Now it was time to be cruel, but she knew without a doubt that this was something that was going to be important, even though he wouldn’t see it that way.  “Chris, I need you to do something now that I know you won’t like, but please do it anyway.”

“What?”

“Mess in your diaper.”

“What?”

“Chris, I want you to do everything you can to mess in your diaper, right now.  As much as possible.”

“Why?  Why can’t I just use the bathroom like always.  There’s nobody here right now.  Nobody will ever know!”

“Yes,” she replied.  “I thought about that.  But I want you to do it for a different reason.”

“What?”

“Chris,” she said.  “A little while ago, you wet that diaper for the first time.  You’re going to need to get used to doing that.”

“I can’t see any reason at all why I need to get used to it.”

“Because you’re going to be doing it…a lot!”

He shook his head.  “Don’t remind me.”

“And that’s why you need to mess that diaper now too, so you know how it’s going to feel.”

“I don’t want to.  Nobody’s here.  I can use the bathroom.”

“No!  Chris, trust me, please!”  She took a breath.  “Please, just mess yourself as much as you can right now.  Get everything out of you that you possibly can so hopefully you won’t be faced with the problem later today.  Okay?”

“That much I can see,” he replied.  “I just don’t see why I have to do it standing here in the living room instead of using the toilet.”

“Because in the event that you do have to do it…out there somewhere, you need to know what to expect.  At least…to some of it.  Once it actually happens though, I don’t know yet what you’re going to do.”

“Then why bother now?”

“Chris!  Just do it, okay?  End of story.  I’m trying to help you, even though you can’t see that.”

He looked at his mother, not understanding, and not wanting to do it.  “I hate this,” he said.

“I know.  I hate it too.”

“Not like I do.”

“I’m sure I don’t.  But Chris, I’m trying to understand what you’re going through, and believe it or not, I’m trying to help you.  Now we’ve got a lot to do this morning, so please, just do it.  Try!”

“Ugh!” he grunted as he turned away.

“Chris…”  But she could now see that he was concentrating.  She backed away a bit to leave him to it.  She saw him struggling with something.  Pushing.  She saw the stress in his face.  She saw the tears in his eyes.  And finally, she saw his hand going to his backside to touch it lightly.  “Finished?” she asked.

He nodded. 

“Was it hard?”

He nodded again.

“Good,” she said.  She went to him and gave him another hug.  “Okay.   Let’s get you cleaned up now and into the shower.  She led him into the bathroom where he very gingerly removed the flannel pajamas she had given him.  The diaper he was wearing was soaked.  As far as she could see, it handled that one wetting just fine, but she didn’t know if it could handle much more.  There was also an obvious bulge in the back of the diaper.  There was no doubting what that was.  She helped him remove the smelly messy diaper and pushed him into the tub to take a shower while she took his dirty diaper and dropped it into a plastic trash bag and then braved the freezing cold to take it outside to the trashcan.  She decided to put a diaper pail on her list of needs for her son.

After his shower, she took him to his room and stretched another of those toddler diapers onto him again, using duct tape to make sure it would stay fastened, then she helped him into the bra he had worn from the store last night.  She had him put the tissues in it himself to fill it out.  She gave him the short skirt to put on and showed him where the tag was in it so he would know that he had it on straight.  It took no encouragement at all for him to grab the warm sweater and put it on.  They had bought a pair of girl’s flats for him last night, but he had worn the warm boots home.  She let him put the boots on again now, then she led him into the bathroom where she had him comb his hair, making sure the part down the middle was straight.  When he was done, she took her scissors and evened up the edges of his hair to make it look better.  Chris wasn’t happy about that, but she didn’t care.

Dressed that much, she sat him down on his bed and handed him the small mirror they had bought for his purse last night and one of the pink lipstick tubes.  “Start in the middle,” she told him.  Under her watchful eye, she had him do his own lipstick three times, taking a makeup remover after each time to get it off so he could practice it again.  When she was satisfied, she herself did his eye makeup.  He could barely get his lipstick on.  He wasn’t ready for the difficult stuff yet.

By the time she was done, it was nearly time for him to leave for school.  She helped him into his new coat.  She made sure he had a pencil and pen in his purse, along with his lipstick and some makeup removing pads.  Finally, she stuck his flat soled shoes into his purse as well. 

She looked him over briefly, then hugged him.  “I hate this too,” she whispered.  “Chris, please, please…don’t antagonize them today.  Any of them.  I need you to live baby.  I need you alive.  If you’re dead, I may as well be dead too.”  She paused to look into his face.  “Chris,” she said, “I have no doubt at all that they’re going to be extra cruel to you today.  Probably worse than yesterday.”

“Huh!” he grunted.  “You think?  They’ll definitely be worse than yesterday…as if that’s possible.”

“Yeah,” she agreed.  “Just…please try not to antagonize them.  As bad as it is.  As bad as they make it, please do whatever it is that they ask, no matter what.  Chris, please!  Please try for me honey, but mostly, try for yourself!  Try…and live.  No matter what, that’s the most important thing.  You’ve got to live!”  She stared at his face with all the seriousness that she felt, until she saw him agree and give a small nod.

Chris said nothing.  He hugged his mother again and turned to face the door.  It was time to face the world.  And he knew without a doubt, he’d be facing more cocks to suck today too.  Somehow, they had made him the official town cocksucker, and he knew they were going to do everything possible to make him suffer with it.

His mother opened the door for him, and the cold blast of air hit him, especially his upper legs.  He went outside and automatically glanced at the thermometer hung just to the side of the door.  Minus five degrees.  Not just cold, but miserably cold.  And he had to walk all the way to school dressed as he was?  He went down the two wooden steps to the frozen ground and then the short walk out to the snow and ice covered road.  His hands were already freezing.  His face and ears were freezing.  He pulled his purse up onto his shoulder and stuffed his hands down into the pockets of his coat.  He turned back towards his house and saw his mother standing there watching him.  He turned away and began the long cold walk to the school building, knowing he was heading toward a fate he couldn’t run away from.

It wasn’t just the cold against his legs that bothered him.  It wasn’t just the tight diaper he was wearing either.  The short skirt felt obnoxiously strange.  He felt weird wearing it.  Less sure of himself.  More vulnerable…afraid.  And worse, while his coat covered the top of his skirt, it didn’t cover the bottom of it, and he could feel how the wind kept blowing it around.  Despite feeling more vulnerable and afraid, by the time he reached the village green, he was praying that the cold would kill him before he could get there.

Tess watched Chris as he walked away from the house.  She noticed how cold he was.  She saw him move his purse up to his shoulder and put his hands into the pockets of his coat.  He needed more clothes.  He needed warmer things.  But just then, he didn’t have any.  Shivering, she closed the door, praying that somehow her son would get through the day…and at least survive.  That was the number one thing he needed to do.  No matter what, he had to survive.  She couldn’t lose him like she had lost her husband.