Dale’s Story – Chapter Two
Dale looked down disgustedly at his protection and then back up at Miss McCloud.
“Don’t you have any clothes I can wear to cover all this?”
“Well I think you look fine,” she said with a smile and a ruffle of his thick mop of hair – there was no doubt about it that hair definitely needed seeing to, it was such a straggly mess.
She thought for a while. “Well I suppose you can see if any of Harry’s clothes fit.”
She opened the wardrobe to let him look but few, if any, of the eight year-olds clothes were the right size or even something he’d be found dead wearing… he thought they were no better than what he was already wearing. He shrugged and looked in the draw. Harry’s underwear was all cartoon characters and way too small for him to even attempt to squeeze into. Stacked in the bottom of the closet were packages of disposables and pull-ups, as well as piles of terry cloth nappies, assorted powders and creams; apparently, Harry had a wetting problem of his own. His mother was prepared, which is why the protection Dale was now wearing had been so easily available.
As Dale moved there was, much to his alarm, a distinct and constant crackle that accompanied him. The plastic pants made their presence known and he hated that, in fact he hated the entire stupid situation he now found himself in, but couldn’t think of a way out.
Miss McCloud put her arm around Dale’s shoulder, he was about three inches shorter than her and it didn’t look like he was going to have a sudden growth spurt anytime soon. The plastic pants were as clear as glass so his thick disposable could be clearly seen and, should he have any accidents, the problem would be instantly identified. She didn’t want his rash to get any worse and knew that it would need regular treatment to keep it under control and the constant visibility, if a change was needed, was a definite plus. However, she could see that he was having difficulty with the situation but the truth was they hadn’t had time to get any extra clothing for their guest so, for the time being at least, he’d have to make do.
Suddenly she had a thought and told Dale to wait and she’d be back in a moment. Minutes later she returned with a package that was gift wrapped.
“You may as well open it now. It was going to be a present for your birthday but…” She handed him the gift.
Feverishly he opened the present and saw that it was a yellow onesie… a style of clothing he’d detested since they were all the rage, several years ago. He unfolded it and found that not only was it a onesie it was actually designed like the Pikachu character from Pokémon.
Miss McCloud was enthusiastically smiling. “Do you like it? Your Aunt Christine remembered you liked Pokémon and thought this would be fun for you…”
Dale looked up incredulously, and sneered. “Yer, when I was about six. I can’t wear this, it’s, it’s… stooopid…”
Miss McCloud looked a bit crestfallen, she thought it was a fun gift and one that he and his sisters would enjoy because of its silliness, quirkiness and childishness but perhaps they’d moved on and were no longer interested in such a playful item.
“Oh!” She said with a shrug. “Well, I’m afraid that’s all we’ve got so…” she paused for effect, “it’s either that or you stay as you are… I think you look OK but either way, it’s up to you. Come down when you’re ready and I’ll get you something to eat.”
She left him to contemplate his choices and went down to the kitchen.
~
Dale went back to the closet and tried to find something, anything to wear which would be better than the noisy protection or the onesie. He tried on a few pairs of shorts but they were way too small. He tried on a couple of t-shirts and jumpers but again even on his slim frame they were too much of a struggle – small he may have been but he was no eight year-old. In the end he had no choice; it was either the onesie or nappy.
Miss McCloud heard the rustling before she saw Dale as he arrived at the kitchen looking like a dispossessed Pikachu. She thought he looked ridiculous but also very, very endearing. She wasn’t really all that aware of the little yellow character, although she had heard of Pokémon, but also hadn’t realised there was a hood attached that completed the look. Dale may have hated it but it made Miss McCloud smile as she patted his bottom; more to ascertain that he still had on his protection than an act of support. He had and the bulk was clearly visible, and audible, as he sat down at the table to eat the meal she’d prepared.
He would much rather have had a spliff than a sandwich, and a beer over the glass of juice but, as he wasn’t given a choice he had to make do. Just as he was finishing up Aunt Christine arrived home and he nervously waited for what she had to say. He was also hoping against hope that his little pile of drugs he kept in one of his trainers had been found and she’d slip it too him later. Alas, it didn’t happen and probably just as well because she was still simmering about what had taken place.
She was angry at the fact that she’d trusted him (against his father’s better judgement) to accomplish such a simple task. She’d even thought that because aunt and nephew got on so well he’d respect her property and what she was trying to do for him. She hated the fact that she had misjudged his character so badly only to get her kindness thrown back in her face. Her reputation as a canny business woman had been severely undermined by one of her own family. To say she was livid would have been an understatement. She was determined that Dale should pay for his failings and, more to the point; she was in no mood to put up with her whining, useless nephew.
~
Seeing Dale dressed in his Pokémon outfit had made her chuckle to begin with, but despite his cute and defeated look she decided on a course of attack rather than conciliation. She sat opposite him at the table and as Miss McCloud served some food she launched into her denunciation.
“You, young man have behaved disgracefully.”
This was just the start… she was going to let him have every little thing she’d been waiting to say since seeing the state of the building he was supposed to be supervising.
“I give you a simple job; with accommodation and pay to help you out and you… you take advantage, flaunt simple common decency, renege on our deal and turn my building into a filthy drug den.”
She overstated this last part but was trying to make a point whilst not letting her emotions boil over and knock his bloody head off.
Pikachu had never looked so guilty and wriggled nervously in his seat; the only positive being the disposable and cream were helping ease his itchy crotch. Even so, he wished he had some drugs to escape her verbal assault. She seethed: The lack of respect, the damage, the sheer vindictive attitude towards her had been appalling and made her determined he should pay for all his ‘misdemeanours’.
Without a ‘spliff’ he was unable to escape from any of what she had to say so suffered under the stream of invective and anger heaped on him. He never knew his aunt could be so descriptive or her opinion of him so low, or that she could be so determined he would pay back every penny of what she thought he owed. He couldn’t give back her dented reputation but she was going to make an example of him, one that he would never forget and, as a secondary element, perhaps warn off others who might have similar ideas. She was not a woman to be trifled with.
~
By the time she had finished she was angry and red in the face.
His only response was a mumbled, “I’m eighteen and I can do what I want… you can’t make me do anything… I’m a grown man.”
In his aunt’s current state this was definitely the wrong way to go and she called Miriam (Miss McCloud) to give her the list. She set a spreadsheet in front of him with all the problems and related costs that his arrogant, uncaring attitude had caused – the sum total was in the tens of thousands. She then added in his ‘free’ accommodation and the salary she paid him, which she said was taken under false pretences and therefore a crime. He had no idea if this was true or not but his aunt and Miss McCloud seemed certain so he reckoned that police action might be the result. On top of that, there were photos of all the damage and, most damning of all, statements from some of the fellow tenants in the building that he supplied drugs.
His aunt was seething. “You are an adult, and you will be tried as an adult,” she flipped the list towards him. “You can leave here this very moment, dressed as you are and I never want to see you again.” She could see he was thinking about this option, “but this list and everything on it goes straight to the police and I wash my hands of you like the rest of your family.”
This last statement hit home and for the first time since his aunt had started her tirade tears formed and a sob escaped.
She hadn’t quite finished.
“I’m not going to let you off so, it’s either you go this instant or you stay and attempt to pay me back.”
She paused to see if there was a reaction but he didn’t know what to say or do. He wriggled uneasily in his noisy plastic armour.
“If you stay you will remain in this house under our rules and you will do everything we tell you without question. I will tell you now, I want my money back and as you can’t pay… you will work it off.”
She was very definite about his duty to her and the reparations he needed to make.
“This is an alternative to a probable prison sentence but let me make it perfectly clear, this will be no picnic, you will be punished for any transgression and punished severely. Mariam has already said she’s had to discipline you… that’s as nothing if you disobey in future.”
Dale sniffled and shuffled guiltily and wanted to die. He wanted a smoke more but realised that he was never going to get one so shrugged and said nothing.
Aunt Christine went to the front door and opened it. “Decision time: Go now and don’t come back or stay and adhere to our rules.”
She half expected his ‘no worries, can’t be arsed’ attitude to carry him out the door but there had been a slight change since he’d sobered up and wondered just what to do if he did leave. Where would he go? He couldn’t go home, he was hated there. He had no friends as such and certainly couldn’t go back to the accommodation; they called him a drug dealer. The possibility of ending up in prison scared him so he realised that there wasn’t any alternative.
“Are you staying or going?” Christine asked with finality.
“I’ll stay.”
She slowly closed the door, “OK then, let’s start as we mean to go on. Go to bed now.”
He was quite glad to get away from both his aunt and Miss McCloud and started to waddle back to his room.
Christine and Miriam both couldn’t help notice how dejected he looked and the Pikachu outfit made the entire scene a little bizarre but there was something else.
“Are you wet?” Christine asked sternly.
During the tirade his bladder had just let loose and he was just too scared to say anything in case he got another spanking, something he wanted to avoid at all costs. He dare not say a word but with his back to his audience of two he nodded.
“OK, we’ll be up in a minute to change you.”
~
The racing car bed didn’t look particularly inviting but he was overcome with fatigue and threw himself down on it. He was surprised to find that he fit quite well but heard the crinkle sound which meant that there was a plastic sheet protecting the mattress as well as the safeguard he wore. So that was why he had this room, it was already equipped for a bed-wetter. He hated the idea but was far too tired to respond to the noise as he snuggled down and surprisingly immediately fell to sleep.
Christine and Miriam stood in the doorway to the attic; a small amount of daylight still penetrated the room, which seemed to fall on the sleeping figure. He hadn’t taken his Pokémon onesie off but the drop down rear flap had come undone so his thick protection could clearly be seen.
“He’s wet; do you think we should wake him up and change him?” Christine asked her loving partner.
Miriam put her arm around her waist and whispered that she thought they should let him sleep.
“The poor guy has had a rough day. I think the disposable and plastic pants should keep him reasonable comfortable and I gave him a good methodical daubing of antiseptic cream… so he should be OK.”
Christine smiled back. “I hope you aren’t going soft on the little bugger. I could have quite happily strangled him earlier when I saw the state of the building…”
“I know, I know,” Miriam said comforting her. “Now we have the opportunity to at least try and turn him around. I don’t think it’s going to be easy but, we are both determined people and I’m sure we’ll be able to come up with something”.
Christine stared at the passive body that lay before them both.
“Do you know what he told the students at the house?” Raising her eyebrows as she looked to her partner, “He told them that he was a writer working on his latest novel.”
Miriam smiled and shook her head.
“Yes,” Christine shrugged and, with an expression of disbelief, looked back at the prone body, “It’s hard to believe but our Pokémon has delusions of being an author.”
With a slight sense of mocking Miriam commented. “Well it’s good that he has ambition. Who knows, perhaps there is a new Dickens residing in that yellow onesie.”
They both smiled and hugged each other.
“I think we need to start with his education.” Christine half said to herself.
“Well, my husband, er, ex-husband always says that you should keep a boy occupied.”
She was warming to a subject she knew quite a bit about seeing as how Harry was at the same boarding school were her ex-husband taught and she’d spent some time there herself (as the faithful wife) before the divorce.
“The school insisted that boys weren’t left to lounge around, no matter how old they were. No sitting around watching TV or playing video games…” She had a further thought. “They have a dress code that is strictly adhered to, whether it’s for lessons, doing sport or taking part in some kind of social club…”
“I think that’s just what he needs but… do you think we can do that?” Christine questioned.
“Yes, but it’s going to take quite a bit of our time. He’ll need constant supervision and he’ll need a goal.”
They surveyed the room and decided to leave him for now.
“He’s got no clothes,” Miriam commented, “I don’t think he can be in that onesie for ever, which, by the way he hated, too juvenile …”
“That’s rich coming from him considering the way he behaves…”
“Yes, but we’ll have to get him something.” She said with a shrug.
“Well perhaps we make that his goal.” Christine looked at her partner for approval.
“He gets to dress as he wants if and when he passes certain levels of achievement?”
Again she was just throwing out ideas and hoping that Miriam would nod her agreement.
Miriam joined in the brainstorm.
“Yes, he could receive points when he gets to a certain level of competence.” She was on a roll now. “If he doesn’t work he gets nothing, no privileges, just the basics”
They both liked that idea.
“The number of points means he can access something; an hour’s worth of TV, time spent on a computer game… that type of thing…”
“He’s a lazy little bugger,” Christine added as a warning that she wasn’t expecting a great deal of effort on his part.
“But didn’t you say that he never got any encouragement from his family? Miriam then went on to make a suggestion. “Perhaps we need to educate him better, start again and give him a chance to improve his attitude.”
Christine seemed excited at the way the conversation was developing.
“OK, if we are going down this road of his education, let’s start with a school uniform that he has to wear for lessons,” she beamed at the thought, “I’ll get him some shorts and a shirt and tie… oh… and PE shorts, vest and trainers. I’ve just had a brainwave about who might be able to help us.”
Christine was now quite enthusiastic as her brain was in a different, decision-making mode now and Miriam could see her plans ticking over as she looked on.
“I think your ex has the right idea about boys and I think we’ll put that particular boarding school’s ethics into practice. We need to make a few calls.”
Miriam kissed the top of Christine’s head. “Are you sure you know what you’re… we’re… letting ourselves in for?”
Christine gave a huge sigh, “No idea but I’m determined to turn Dale around… it’ll be for his own good… wont it?”
****
The End of Dale’s Story – Chapter Two.
The story originally came from: https://www.dailydiapers.com/content/stories.html
If you want to read more stories about ABDL boys you can find a list here: Diaper Boys – Index