Anthony's Aunts (Ch. 2 on 1/11/18)

[littlepoetmagus]

Hi. I've read a lot of great ABDL stories here so I thought I would write one too. Here's the first chapter of my first try at one. I hope you like it. I'd like to see it grow to include all of the AB things that we all know and love, but without crossing the line of reality too much. I'm going to start things a little slow, if that's okay.

Warning: the following contains (or will contain) diapers, humiliation, forced regression, and sexual themes (not featuring minors, of course), as well as other adult themes such as death, minor physical violence, and southern accents. Don't get triggered.

EDIT: I realize I should have added more of a description and some disclaimer, so I did.

 

Anthony's Aunts

by littlepoetmagus

One

As they made their way down the inconceivably long and winding country roads that connected Old Bend, North Carolina to the distant Goldmond in Virginia, there was a unnerving sense of dread overcoming both Tony and his mother. They hadn't been to visit Tony's Aunt Sharon since Patrick, his mother's brother, had died suddenly last year. His death had come at a time when the family were fighting wars on more than one front already; he and Sharon had been married for several years and had struggled to adopt a baby, Anthony's mother, Beth, was unemployed and having difficulty finding work, and Tony was continuing to get into trouble at school. Particularly for Tony's sake, Beth found herself at her wit's end; the child simply continued to misbehave. Never the most assertive boy, Tony had found a rather less healthy outlet for his testosterone in the form of regular and increasingly vile pranks pulled on his friends, classmates, and family. Over the years, he'd grown more resourceful, graduating from hiding keys to nailing his mother's desk, upside-down, to the ceiling and from the simpler, schoolyard feces-based miscreantry to the magnum opus that brought him to this car, in this moment, speaking tersely with his mother.

“I didn't,” Tony barked, surprising himself with his hostility, then returning his attention to the DiscMan and attempting to repair the wall between he and his mother he had contemptuously constructed and that the death of two AA batteries had, moments ago, left woefully vulnerable.

“You didn't want to,” his mother barked back. “You didn't want to consider the consequences because that would mean taking some kind of freaking responsibility for your actions, future or otherwise.”

“Great job, mom. You figured me out.” Tony rifled through the cavernous glove compartment of the Chrysler Sebring, trying to ignore his mother's fury and suppress his own.

“But I haven't, Anthony! I don't understand at all. I ask myself all the questions I think I'm supposed to, you know? Do you want attention? Is it a rebellion thing? Does it have something to do with your father?” Beth asked questions like she was listing ingredients, without any expectation of an answer. She had done this dance with Tony before, and she knew he would evade even her sincerest approach. Tony disliked being offered help and he disliked when his mother brought up his father. His memories of the man were scarce, his having fallen victim to a heart attack when Tony was only five, and Tony could hardly stand to hear his mother's tenuous tone when she mentioned it. Surprising himself again, Tony replied, this time shouting.

“Oh for fuck sake!”

“Not for frik sake! This is a big deal!” Beth's voice was loud; the kind of loud you can still hear after the yelling is over.

“It's not a big deal. It was a joke!”

“Sneaking shit into the diplomas of your graduating class is not a joke, young man! It's sick and juvenile and you ruined a very special moment for a lot of people!”

Hearing his mother swear should have been Tony's cue to back down. Instead, he bit back, doubling down on his own foul language and yelling until he ran out of breath.

“It's a fucking school of 360 students. That means less than 100 graduating. Parents care, grandparents care, the students don't give a shit. That means—oh fuck, mom! Figuring for the odd death in the family, I wager I ruined a meaningless fucking moment for all of 250 fucking people! In the scheme of things, not a bad number for the amount of your shitty cooking I had to stomach to shit that much!”

Tony was red in the face and Beth was speechless, but they had fought like this before and knew roughly how to walk it back. After staring down the road ahead for several long, silent, moments, Beth finally spoke, this time softly.

“I think having some time with family will be good for both of us. I'm not working and you're out of school and having a buffer between us might be healthy; even if it is your stuffy old Aunt Sharon.” Trying to smile, Beth extended her arm and gently shoved her son by the shoulder. The last of the yelling had depleted his energy and he now just stared at the disused DiscMan and the batteries in his lap. He looked up to return his mother's smile and switched on the radio.

* * * * *

Patrick was Beth's older brother by five years to the day, and had married a woman almost five years older than himself, making his wife, Sharon, 48; almost a full ten years older than Tony's mother, Beth. As a result of their significant age gap and lack of blood relation, the two women had rarely found they had much in common during the fifteen years that Patrick and Sharon had been married. The lack of commonality had, in fact, led to a number of typically uncomfortable family situations in Tony's lifetime and often caused Beth a great deal of headache; headache she had vocalized many times in the company of her only and aging young son. Before his death, Beth would frequently make lighthearted—and sometimes not—jokes to her brother on the phone about Sharon's advanced age when Patrick had been unsuccessful in convincing his wife to allow him to go drinking or partying with Beth during what was left of their twenties and thirties. As Tony grew older and aware, he began to pick up on many of these jokes, sometimes repeating them privately to his mother. His attempts at humor often met with anger. Tony remembered a fight that he'd had with his mother about this, almost as bad as the one today, barely a few years before Patrick had died.

Beth had wanted Patrick to come out drinking with her one good time for her thirty-fifth and his fortieth birthdays. The two had grown a little distant and hadn't partied together in years, and Beth was insistent. When Patrick refused, saying Sharon had put her foot down, an argument ensued.

“Okay, fine. Then we'll leave them together for a little while, grab a few drinks, I'll buy you a birthday shot and we'll cab it back. What's the harm?”

“She said no, Beth.” Patrick was growing impatient that his sister had not gotten the message; his hands were tied.

“She doesn't necessarily get to tell you what to do, you know?” Beth was mocking her brother a little and he knew it.

“I know, Bethany, but she's right. I'm too old to make drinking all night with strangers an acceptable way to celebrate a birthday. Besides, she'll feel left out. Why don't you do like we said and bring Tony over and we'll have a few drinks here and play some board games?”

“Oh for god sake, Patty. I know it's not standard single mom behavior, but we're good kids all year round and I'll be damned if I'm going to sit around playing Monopoly on our birthday just so you can be around to change Sharon's diaper!”

The joke was mean, and it had hurt Patrick deeply. The two argued after, about everything and nothing, for what seemed like hours. When they finally ended the call, Tony looked at his mom with a friendly smile where she stood next to the phone near the wall of the kitchen. All of fourteen and seated in a chair only a few feet away, he altered his expression slightly when their eyes met so as to feign confusion.

“So are we going to help Patrick change Aunt Sharon's diapers or what?” he joked, not seeing the tears in her eyes.

Beth and Patrick didn't see each other that birthday, or any other before Patrick died. The fight and the distance after left them both feeling anxious to reach out and time, as it does, ran away from them. Beth couldn't have known any of that, though, when she took a large step forward and slapped her son soundly across the face for what he had said. She only knew that her joke would have far-reaching repercussions, and hearing her son repeat her words back to her made her stomach curl.

These were the thoughts marinating in Tony's mind as they wound up the final mountain roads to his Aunt Sharon's home in remote Goldmond. He sung along mindlessly to ABBA with his mother as the house came into view.

“Now listen.” Beth turned down the radio as the next song began. “No pranks, no fighting, no mean jokes; just a month of family and healing for both of us.” Extending her right arm toward her son and curling up all but her little finger, she turned her head briefly to face him as she finally parked the car.

“Deal?”

“Deal.” Tony responded, knowing that given his current rap sheet, forming even a tentative truce with his mother would be preferable to the alternative fury, and had the added benefit of making his life easier. He clasped his own little finger around his mother's as he spoke.

“Just remember that your Aunt knows,” Beth spoke cautiously, “about your disciplinary problems.”

“I remember.” Tony nodded his head and his tone became a little impatient. He recalled his mother's half of the conversation that led to this trip in the first place. Beth had called Sharon after the graduation incident and vented extensively about that and a number of other episodes of what she had mockingly referred to at the time as “Little Anthony's Behavioral Problem.” That was several weeks ago and Tony and his mother had been on the mend, but Tony knew this lenience only applied to his mother and his Aunt seemed to delight in teaching lessons. His younger antics had always earned him numerous typical punishments at this house during his preteens; ones that he might have otherwise avoided had he been at home. Time-outs, spankings, and mouth-washings were once-per-visit phenomena when it came to Christmas at Uncle Patrick's and Aunt Sharon's. Usually Beth would handle the actual carrying-out of the punishment, but on the rare occasion that she and Patrick would actually be allowed to go out together, Sharon would often find some way of implementing personally punishment she believed was vastly overdue. After one particularly bad Fall and Winter during which Tony adjusted to a new school and periodically set bails of hay on fire, Sharon stole and hid his presents and filled their boxes with coal, carefully replacing them under the tree on Christmas Eve. When the five opened gifts the next morning, Patrick and Beth were as stunned as Tony, but both fell in line when Sharon quickly chimed in.

“Oh no,” she cooed sarcastically. “Santa must have had to sell every last one of your presents to pay for all the damage you caused this year.”

Tony was eleven.

“Just be polite,” Beth said, snapping Tony's attention back to the car, “and I'm sure she won't cause you any trouble.”

Loaded with luggage and walking from the car to the door, Tony took notice of the small flower garden that decorated the front of Sharon's home. Red, blue, purple, and gold blossoms reaching for the sun overlapped one another ferociously, and various decorative statues adorned the carefully carved bare patches dotting the flower bed. After another particularly mischievous month spent here some years ago, only one complete garden gnome, four others with missing various appendages, and one plywood flat on stakes, resembling the rear end of a woman, remained; the words “Gone Wild” were still barely visibly etched into her backside, despite what had been Patrick's best efforts with a sander.

Walking up the stone pathway to the shallow wooden porch, Tony noticed the main, wooden door of the house being opened and, pushing open the screen door, his Aunt Sharon emerged, engaged with a bright, warm smile, her arms outstretched, taking small, fast steps toward Tony's exhausted mother.

“Beth!” Sharon stretched her name out, half joyous and half almost weeping, and wrapped her in a hug. “Why has it been so long since you've been out here?” It was rhetorical. Sharon's gentle southern twang made the question sound more like a greeting and less like an accusation.

“Listen to me. Who cares? It doesn't matter; you are here now.” Sharon continued, ending the hug with a few pats on the back. Then she turned to Tony.

Tony had spent the hug taking in his Aunt. Her hair was bigger than he remembered; taller, with more curls. Her top was lower and her pants were tighter; and she was thinner. She was wearing her best church heels and wore the scent of perfume delicately. Never the tallest in class and only seventeen, Tony's Aunt stood a few inches taller than him. She looked down at him and moved her hands to her hips. Her mouth gaped in fake surprise before she began speaking slightly louder, in a clear, distinct voice.

“Well, bless my stars. If it isn't little Anthony.”

[babybb]

nice start so far.  peaked my interest

[Eagle0769]

Interesting story so far hope you continue it.

[Wannatripbaby]

Very interesting. You've set up several well-developed characters in such a short time. A very impressive start.

And, might I add, it's soooooo nice to find an author with at least a rudimentary understanding of grammar & spelling.

Knowing that you wouldn't be able to get to the diaper-related content within the first chapter, having Beth joke about Sharon wearing diapers was a good comprise... unless, she wasn't joking?

All in all I'm excited to see where this story goes. And you said this was your first story? That just makes it even more impressive! And if you ever need any help coming up with ideas or overcoming writer's block feel free to shoot me a message. I'm always happy to help a fellow storyteller.

[aldl4811]

So far so good, I really appreciate the quality and depth of your writing.

[littlepoetmagus]

I appreciate the response so far. It's a good encouragement to keep writing. Thank you all. Then next chapter should be up in a few days or less.

[Wannatripbaby]

11 hours ago, littlepoetmagus said:

I appreciate the response so far. It's a good encouragement to keep writing. Thank you all. Then next chapter should be up in a few days or less.

When you do put up the next chapter, do your readers a favor & edit the title to say, "new chapter up ##/##" That way they'll know when a new chapter is actually put up as opposed to when you comment on something someone said. You'll notice a lot of authors here do that.

[littlepoetmagus]

18 minutes ago, Wannatripbaby said:

When you do put up the next chapter, do your readers a favor & edit the title to say, "new chapter up ##/##" That way they'll know when a new chapter is actually put up as opposed to when you comment on something someone said. You'll notice a lot of authors here do that.

I had noticed and that's a very good suggestion; thank you.

[littlepoetmagus]

Here's the first update to Anthony's Aunts. I hope that you enjoy Chapter Two.

 

TWO

 

Anthony cringed a little. “He likes to be called Tony,” his mother assured.

Sharon seemed to ignore her sister-in-law. “I hear you're still getting into trouble as usual, little man.” Sharon performed an awkward, calculated hug that quickly turned into a gentle headlock from which Tony felt it would be rude to escape. She proceeded to pretend to punch him in the stomach.

“Why do you have to go and upset your Mom like that, huh?” Her words were like grunts and punctuated by fake punches. Letting him go, she continued, throwing her hair back into place. “Well rest assured, I won't hear of any such funny business while you're here, understand?”

Tony rolled his eyes and nodded, but his mother shot him a sudden and stern glance. “Yes, ma'am,” he said correctly.

“Good,” Sharon concluded, being sure to make eye contact with Tony as she spoke. Then, shaking her head, “Well why am I keeping you all out here on the porch like a couple of salesmen? Come in!”

Sharon's firm, warm demeanor made for a better reception than Tony had anticipated. And, now that they were being shown around the house, he was beginning to remember some of the more pleasant times he'd had here. It was an undeniably cozy home. Modest but well-furnished, the living room held the main entry and extended far to the left. It had seemed larger, of course, when he was young, but at least the wood stove was in the same place he remembered, opposite a large sofa. The room's pale yellow walls led into a small dining room, stuffed with a tall, wooden table and a miniature entertainment center, atop which teetered a bulky, black television. Sharon led them straight across the living room, into a hallway where she stopped and pointed to a door at the end.

“Tony, you can set your stuff up in that room down there. There's a brand new twin bed in there that hasn't been touched so you'll be nice and comfy. Just ignore the baby stuff. Someone is supposed to come pick that crib up tomorrow but they haven't called and—bless, Beth, I have been having just the hardest time unloading some—“

Sharon had obviously turned her attention to Tony's mother, and he proceeded down the hall to what would, for the next week, be his room. As he entered he saw the bed Sharon had mentioned to the left against the wall, but not before noticing the small baby's crib in the corner directly in front of him. This, along with the various sealed boxes of things beside it—each labeled BABY—had been intended for the child Patrick and Sharon were to adopt; the twin bed, also. He heaved his things up onto the bed, which was clothed in light- and dark-blue sheets and pillows, decorated with rockets, planets, and the like. The walls had also been decorated, but with pastels of zoo animals. Beyond that, and a small, blue, wooden desk in the corner with a child-sized, plastic seat, the room was bare.

After Tony and his mother had settled in, Sharon made dinner and they all caught up around the table. Beth and Sharon shared a few drinks while Tony tried his best to be polite, as his mother had instructed, and stayed at the table a while rather than immediately absconding to play his DS. To Tony's dismay, the issue of his indiscretions came up more than once. Normally, his mother would have been polite enough to change the subject but in her current, plied, state, she seemed to get as carried away with the conversation as Sharon.

“Patrick used to tell me he was like that too, ya know? When he was little? Always getting into trouble.” Sharon shook her head. Unlike Beth, she was only barely intoxicated. “He told me about the time he nearly killed your mother.”

“The chair? Yeah, I mean he had seen it in a movie. Someone goes to sit down and WHOOSH! No more chair.” The stern, nearly-fifty widow stared flatly at Beth as she playfully imitated the gag. “It's in the movies, Sharon. He was a kid and mom wasn't really hurt. And besides, he turned out fine in the end. You married him.”

“Because your mother had the foresight to actually discipline the child.”

Beth finished her drink with a large, animated swig, ignoring Sharon's subtle knife. “Guess she didn't have that sense for long!” She laughed, self-deprecating.

“Well I just hope you've got some with Anthony. He's out of control, Bethany. Right out of control.” Sharon stood up and began clearing the table. “He'll be running your house before long if you let him.”

Tony's nailed cut into his palms. No adult had ever been so brazen in front of him before. He had, of course, experienced his fair share of parent-teacher conferences, which featured in abundance the sort of condescension that one associates with a courtroom. But his Aunt wasn't acknowledging his presence at all. Worse, she had used his full name. He forgave his mother; there was good enough reason to believe that she couldn't help herself, and she made an effort to safeguard Tony's pride when she could. Having heard his Aunt make the mistake more than once today, and feeling the need to defend himself, Tony spoke.

“It's Tony, Aunt Sharon.” His voice was small and nervous.

“Hmm?” Sharon's was strangely sharp and her inquisitive grunt seemed to fill the room leave it empty at the same time. After a brief pause she continued. “Did you say something, young man?”

Tony spoke again, slightly louder. “Tony.”

Sharon quickly grew demanding, and her position over the seated Tony allowed her to tower over him as she did so. “I'm sorry,” she began sternly and clearly, “I can't hear little boys who mumble. Did you have something to say?”

“Tony!” He suddenly shouted but backed down when his gaze met the taller woman's.

Swallowing hard, he spoke again. “I go by Tony.”

Sharon laughed a little and tousled the boy's scruffy blond hair. “That's better. And you'll have to forgive your silly Aunt Sharon. She's had a few drinks and didn't remember you preferred that. Now why don't you help clear the table?”

Sharon's peculiar form of authority had a quality that many share, but one that is abundantly present in the vernacular of polite, Southern American women. Her question—and many like it—were not questions as much as they were a sort of low-impact command. Put simply, Sharon wasn't asking him to clear the table. No observer would have interpreted it as such.

Beth had smiled at Tony when he corrected his Aunt. She felt it was important for him to learn to handle direct confrontation, so she was happy that he had said something. But her smile had morphed into disbelief when Sharon confronted Tony and now she just stared. Sharon turned to head back to the kitchen and Tony turned his head to face his mother. Neither spoke, but Beth shrugged and strained a smile at her son. Then at the table, their eyes carried out a silent conversation they'd had many times before.

Don't let it get to you. Don't do anything. A veil of severity washed over Beth's face.

Whatever.

Sharon promptly returned to the dining room, stood, and cleared her throat loudly while staring at Tony. Reflexively, he scowled and trained his head in her direction, only to hear another, louder throat-clear from behind. He turned to meet his mother's eyes.

I'm serious.

Without another look to his Aunt, Tony sighed and rose from the dinner table, collected some dishes, and marched into the kitchen. Sharon returned to her seat and began pouring Beth and herself another glass of wine.

“See? Responsibility and accountability. Rules and consequences. Just takes a firm hand.”

Beth nodded politely. She didn't appreciate Sharon's tone, but she couldn't deny that she'd been so far unable to make Tony listen any better. And Sharon's approach was definitely a new component; the kind Beth had been looking for when she came. This is good, she decided. This is right.

Tony contemplated the next few days as he scraped rejected morsels of their dinner into the trash before placing the plates quietly into the sink. He listened to the conversation in the other room. His hands were shaking slightly from the encounter with his Aunt before; his palms were sweating and his heart was racing. These symptoms failed to subside as he continued to clear the table, considering the comment that his Aunt had made to his mother just moments ago. Fortunately, they had moved on to talking about his mother's potential employment, and so he was able to concentrate on how he might try to spend the next few days avoiding the older women in the next room. He felt sure that they'd want to cook plenty during their stay, so there was almost a guarantee they'd be shopping tomorrow. He considered that if he could get through a full day of shopping with his Mother and his Aunt, there was a decent chance they would let him get out of the house later. Having spent several of his younger years here, he'd grown acquainted with a local boy his own age, Charlie, who already had a full provisional license and might be Tony's ticket out of spending the next week hanging out with the next cast of the Golden Girls. Charlie was the kind of guy you could rely on; the kind of guy that would vandalize garden gnomes so you'd have an alibi.

“I don't know what I'm doing wrong.” Beth continued venting to her sister-in-law. “I've run out of places to apply near home so I'm just sending my résumé to anyone in the country with a corporate bank account.”

“Something will come through, sweetheart. There's nothing to worry about.” It was nearing 10:00 and Sharon raised the remote control to switch on the television. “Put it in the Good Lord's hands and have drink wine until he sorts things.” She poured Beth another glass and called into the kitchen.

“Anthony!”

“Tony.” Beth was drunk and corrected her loudly.

Tony rushed into the room, unable to hide his frustration.

“I'm sorry,” Sharon corrected, “Tony. Did you finish clearing the table like I asked?”

Tony eyed the table before answering. It was obviously clear of any trace of dinner. “Yes,” he said, pointedly.

“Good. Do you want to go ahead and get ready for bed?”

Tony paused before speaking. No. No was the answer. He didn't want to get ready for bed. He could see a rerun of Special Victims Unit on the television in the dining room. He knew that meant only the local news stood between him and Saturday Night Live, and there wasn't a television in his room.

“I'm not—umm.” Tony didn't know what to say, but anything he could come up with was going to be better than, No, you stupid bitch. I want to go ahead and watch Weekend Update like every other weekend. He looked at his mother as he spoke further. “I usually watch SNL with mom on Saturdays.”

“Essinelle?” Sharon could have been mocking Tony or genuinely confused.

“Saturday Night Live.” Tony clarified, certain that a clarification of his goal would render his Aunt amicable to his argument.

“I really think you should go ahead and get ready for bed, sweetie.” Sharon spoke plainly as Beth watched in silence. “We're going to get up early to go shopping tomorrow and I don't want a groggy teenager in tow all day.” Sharon giggled, looking at Beth.

“Anthony gets himself up for school in the morning,” Beth defended. “He's quite the morning person.”

Tony's eyes thanked his mother, but Sharon continued.

“I'm sorry. I'm sure he's wonderful.” Tony hoped briefly for a reprieve before his Aunt spoke again. “But, we're going to be heading to bed soon anyway and I want some privacy with your mother before then so, my house, my rules. Off to bed with you, mister.”

Tony stared at his mother, waiting for her to supply the necessary force to subdue Sharon's bizarre proclamation. How dare she? He knew that his mother would come to bat for him. And, after one unbearable moment of silence, Beth spoke.

“Go ahead to bed, honey. We'll see you in the morning.” Beth was drunk. She didn't realize the frustration her directive was causing Tony, and she was looking to Sharon for approval. Shrugging her shoulders, “We won't be up much longer.”

“So why do I have to go to bed before everyone else? That's not fair.” Tony showed his age as he argued.

“Because I said so, young man.” His Aunt Sharon interrupted the two of them loudly, allowing no argument. “Now get ready for bed immediately and someone will tuck you in.”

“Tuck me in!? What the fuck?”

“Anthony Howard King!” His mother shouted above the other raising voices in the room. Her implicit authority showed she was the only one of the three of them who had actually raised a child, and Tony in particular had been no picnic. Beth's eyes stabbed her son's. “Go to bed. I'll be in in a few minutes. Understood?”

Tony looked between Beth and Sharon rapidly for a moment before reluctantly mumbling, “Yes ma'am.” He turned violently and stormed through the living room and into the hallway. Whole minutes were wasted recovering his toothbrush and toothpaste from inside his luggage, but once he had brushed his teeth and changed he was seated in bed with a sour look about his face. His mother walked in promptly.

“Sweetheart,” she began softly, “what happened in there? I thought we had a deal.”

“I was polite, mom! She was the one who wouldn't just let me watch TV like a normal fucking person.”

“Don't swear. You weren't very polite, Tony.” Beth sat next to her son on the bed.

“She was treating me like a child. She said someone had to tuck me in.”

“It's a figure of speech. Don't let it get to you. Didn't I say that before we even walked up to the door? Didn't we make a deal?”

Tony's instinct to argue fell short of his respect for his mother and he had to relent. “I don't know. I guess I could have tried harder. Whatever. I'm in bed now anyway.”

“Exactly.” Beth wrapped her arms around him. “I'm about ready for bed myself. I'll see you in the morning. Sweet dreams love-bug.”

Tony hugged his mother again. As she left, her eyes looked back at his and trained directly on his pupils before she switched off the light. Their unspoken language played out again before Beth wished her son a final goodnight.

No retaliation. You know how serious I am.

I promise. Goodnight.

Beth flipped the switch and closed the door and Tony climbed into bed and remembered the one time his mother had slapped him.

 

*****

 

Tony awoke to his Aunt's screeching. He realized that he had slept fairly well, but his head was ringing the way one's does when waking up late for work. He shot to a sitting position on the edge of his twin bed and began tuning in to the conversation happening through his door and some way into the living room through the hall.

“I can't believe they called! Oh, Beth, this is fantastic!”

“I know! But it's so sudden. I never expected it to actually happen. What do I tell Anthony?” Tony could hear his mother's voice and he didn't like what she was saying. Without getting changed he headed out his bedroom door and into the living room. His Aunt noticed his presence immediately.

“Well hello, sleepyhead.” Sharon was already dressed in another pair of tight jeans and a top that seemed skimpy for Virginia in May. “You're just in time. Your mom has some wonderful news!”

“Does she?” Tony wasn't sure he would agree with his Aunt. He didn't like news; it tended to interfere with his plans. He looked at his mother's genuine expression of excitement and couldn't help faking a smile. “What is it?” he forced through his apprehension.

“One of the jobs I applied for, this Human Resources gig with BC&B, called me this morning and they want me to come in for an interview!”

Tony was blinking himself to wakefulness. “That's great!” He replied before he had seen his Aunt's face. She had the look of someone preparing to explain to a contestant on some strange game show that they'd just eaten actual human shit. Tony became nervous, especially because his mother also began to cringe in the silence after her words. He knew the pin was about to drop. He poked. “What is it? What's wrong?”

His mother began. “It's just—they want me for an interview tomorrow. There's no other day.”

“What's the problem?” Tony could sense his Mother's anxiety.

Beth scrunched her nose and faked a smile. “The job is in Wyoming. I'd have to fly out tonight for a three-day interview process and a possible orientation if I get the job.” She balled her fists, raised them and shook them in a little mock celebration. Tony was groggy, and not convinced.

“Are you kidding me? You drag me out here for a week of family time and bail on day two? Am I dreaming?”

“I know. But it's a very big opportunity, Tony. And they're the only ones who have called. I don't exactly have my pick of the litter here. I'm going. Your Aunt Sharon is driving me to the airport this afternoon.” Beth was serious. She was actually about to leave Tony with his Aunt, alone, for the duration of the week. No, he thought again. No is the answer. I'm going.

“Take me with you.” Tony said without asking.

“Tony.” His mother spoke and trailed off as if he should understand her meaning without explanation.

“What? Bring me with you. I'll stay in the hotel. You'll have a hotel, right?”

“Your mother can't trust you to behave without supervision.” Sharon interrupted loudly and continued. “That's why she's leaving you here with me.”

“I don't need a babysitter.” Tony directed some of his morning venom at his Aunt and he spoke with uncanny sharpness. His mother came to her defense.

“Stop it, Anthony. She's right. We might not even be here if it weren't for your behavior. And as it is, I can't be expected to worry about you and also interview for a new job in a strange place.” Tony looked on, mortified, as he realized that his mother had already made her decision. “You'll stay here, with your Aunt. She'll be in charge until I get back.”

Beth walked forward and took her son's arm, leading him back toward the hallway and out of earshot of Sharon. She spoke softly, intensely, “If you can keep your promise to me this week, then we'll talk about your going away for college. If I can't trust you for a week at your Aunt's, I don't know how I'll trust you for a semester at University. Do we have a deal?” Beth lifted her hand finger to reinforce her previous pact with her son; he reciprocated.

“Yeah, mom. We have a deal.” Tony meant what he said. He wanted her to be happy.

“Great.” Beth mercifully changed the subject. Addressing the room but looking at Sharon, she spoke. “Shall we get going?”

“As soon as the little man changes out of his Pjs.” Sharon seemed to smile at Tony as she said so, and Tony blushed as he looked down. He stared at his light-blue pajamas and wondered why he had packed such a childish garment.

“I'll be right back.” Tony disappeared into his room and fought the urge to scream aloud. He tried to remember some of the jokes his mother had told about Sharon to calm his anger toward her; AARP, Senior Citizen discounts, diapers. Beth had always made him laugh, even if she hadn't been proud of her words. Tony dressed himself, left his room, and followed his Aunt to her car.

 

*****

 

The one benefit of his mother's leaving was that the entire affair seemed to dominate the shopping trip, making it seem pleasantly short. They stopped at a hardware store because Beth wanted to purchase a nice cast iron skillet from a local trader. After that, they proceeded to the single, large grocery store in town to shop for a few meals and then, presumably, return home so Sharon could drive Beth the long way to the airport before too late. While passing through the juice aisle in the Galaxy Shopping Plaza, Beth suddenly felt the urge to visit the restroom, leaving Sharon alone with Tony for a few, painful moments. Just when Tony thought they would pass without the strain of conversation, his Aunt spoke.

“Listen, Anthony.”

“Tony.” His patience with his Aunt had grown thin, and she had the manipulative tone that adults use when they're about willingly to disappoint children. His correction was frank.

“Hush. Listen. I want you to know that I take the responsibility your mother has given me very seriously. For the next week, while you're under my roof, you'll be under my supervision; no exceptions. We're going to be like peas in a little old pod.” Her Southern did its best to twist her frankness into a jovial message while remaining sufficiently threatening.

Tony feared that his plans might be in danger. “That sounds great, Aunt Sharon.” He attempted to be respectful. “But my friend Charlie—who lives nearby—he was going to pick me up later and we were going to go to a movie. I figured it wouldn't be a big deal since he has his license and I have money of my own and everything.” Tony, if a bit mischievous, was a hard worker and had brought some cash with him for the trip; cash which he carried with him today so he could buy a few things to make his room more comfortable; he'd hoped to find a puzzle book or get a few moments of privacy to buy a copy of FHM or Maxim.

“I understand, sweetie. But since your Mother is leaving, I think it would be best if you stuck around so I can keep an eye on you.”

“That's not fair—” Tony began reflexively, but Sharon cut him off before he could explain why.

“Well that's the end of the discussion, young man. And I don't want to hear another word about it.” Sharon spoke as Beth strode up from the bathroom. Tony stared at her for a moment and contemplated speaking out against his Aunt. He recalled the dinner table from the night before and thought better of it. He feared his mother would only reinforce Sharon's position or find some way of avoiding the conversation. Instead, he considered a different option. He walked along with the two women for another aisle before insisting that he be allowed to return to a previous one for some chips he would like for a snack. His mother argued with Sharon briefly before the two allowed him to abscond and fetch his chips. He had only this one chance, and timing was everything. Once out of sight, he sprinted for the Customer Service counter, tucking his shirt in as he went. He swiped his shaggy hair into his face and put on a meek smile. He eyed the register lines as he went, noting a young couple, an older man reading magazines in the queue without paying for them, an older, single mother struggling with a box of cereal, and an aging woman of nearly 60, propped up against a candy counter.

Approaching the desk, he singled out a surprisingly young woman with a name badge on. Above “Stacie,” her badge also read, “Supervisor,” and they made eye contact briefly before he spoke.

“Ma'am,” he beamed, “I'm sorry to bother you, but I have a rather strange request. Do you think you can help me?”

“I'll see what I can do.” She smiled broadly and spoke professionally and clearly. Tony had her; it was over.

“See that lovely lady over there?” Tony pointed to the older woman, who was losing her purchase against the counter. “That's my grandmother, and she's quite nervous.” He wrung his hands before him and hung his head. “Today is her first day buying adult diapers, and she can't bring herself to confront the cashier with them.”

Stacie's eyes widened sharply but her smile stayed perfectly still as she listened. She replied quickly, already nervous that she had been staring overlong. “I—I don't,” she stammered, collecting her thoughts. “I don't think—“

Tony interrupted her. “The thing is,” he continued innocently, “she really needs them. I mean, she really needs them.” Tony needed to sell this, needed to make Stacie uncomfortable, if he was going to earn her cooperation. He punctuated his words by cupping his hand around his groin and pinching his knees together. He looked like a schoolboy in line for the restroom after recess; it worked. Stacie raised her hand in understanding and began to nod her head furiously.

“So I was wondering,” he added, reaching into his pocket, “if I could pay you for some now and have someone pick them up later. I promise it won't be any trouble, and I can point you to exactly what she needs.” Tony leaned against the counter for the first time, with both hands, one wrapped around a bunch of assorted bills. His eyes pleaded with the young Customer Service representative.

Stacie looked at the old woman again. She was almost finished checking out and Stacie felt it best to press on, rather than arguing with the poor boy. If his attempts to save face were to be successful at all, she needed to expedite this process so the two could leave the store together in peace. Without any further discussion, she took on a serious expression and waved Tony on to follow her as she walked out from behind the counter. Conveniently for Tony, she led him straight to the incontinence section, where he had some quick thinking to do.

He took in the selection before him. He hadn't thought ahead to this point, and now he had to make a decision without looking like he was doing so; he tried hard not to rub his hands together as he ruminated the humiliating options before him. Rather than dwell too long, he pointed to the first large package he saw that featured an open, untaped diaper discreetly layered over text. It was made of a shiny, stretched plastic, and the section was positioned oddly opposite the section containing the baby supplies, the two separated by only a few small shelves of pharmaceuticals.

Stacie lifted the large package from its place on the counter and looked to Tony for confirmation. He nodded and gave his money to the young woman, hurrying away. He kept his nose buried in a Reader's Digest as his chaperones checked out, so as to avoid any unseemly detection.

After long, unexpected stop at Sharon's church, the three arrived at the house barely in time for a brief farewell before Sharon was taken to the airport. Tony was sent in with cold groceries and Sharon ushered Beth back into the car after she hugged her son goodbye. Sad to see his mother go but ready to set his plan into motion, Tony went inside, put down the groceries, and picked up the phone. He had a minimum of three hours before his Aunt returned, which was just enough time for him to get things ready and for Charlie to get to the store and bring him the diapers. Rushing back through the living room and into the hallway, Tony found the room that Sharon and his Mother had been sharing and entered. Looking through the drawers, he found a few in a single dresser that appeared to contain Sharon's pajamas, undergarments, and other nightwear. He quickly gathered them into a garbage bag, leaving the drawers open as he emptied them. The bag fit clumsily into the improvised burn pile behind the rural home, and Tony was able to get it and its contents burning with a bit of effort. He heard a car pull into the driveway.

He and Charlie laughed as they exposed the contents of the shiny plastic container. Tony was ecstatic as he surveyed the centerpiece of his latest indignity. They were more perfect than he had imagined. They were a sort of pure, hospital white, and they emitted a muffled, plastic crinkle as he examined them. He stacked them in his Aunt's drawers, careful to fill each of the three that he had emptied.

“Are you sure about this?” Charlie spoke through his juvenile giggles. “Dude. She's going to be pissed.” He trailed his last word off as he lifted the last of the diapers to eye level, taking a good, long, look at the padded undergarment. His concern was genuine. He and Tony kept in touch on AIM, and he knew his friend's long history of pranks and their mixed receptions.

“Dude, it's perfect,” Tony assured, inspecting the last diaper as he stowed it in the last drawer and all but closed it along with the others. “Anyway, it's too late now. And it's just Aunt Sharon. All the crap we've pulled on her? This is just a wobble.” The two left the room with the discarded plastic packaging and headed to the back yard to add it to the inferno of Sharon's belongings. They shared a few beers that Charlie had brought, acquired from a local convenience store with a certain reputation for selling to minors, and parted ways after acquiring a small buzz and reminiscing a while. Tony collected the beer cans he saw and shoved them into a plastic bag. He gave the bag to Charlie, who threw something into the fire and left promptly. Tony made his way inside and awaited his Aunt's imminent arrival while he watched television.

 

*****

 

He awoke to the sound of the front door opening. Having dozed off to some cartoons, he was seated in one of the dining room chairs when his Aunt entered the house carrying a bag of take-out. As hungry as he was, he stood up and quickly excused himself.

“You're back late,” he greeted, collecting himself nervously.

Sharon placed her things on the bench near the door and turned to speak with a soft smile on her face. “I stopped for some food. I thought you might be hungry since we didn't have time to eat earlier.” She paused in the center of the living room and raised the bag of foam containers. “Food?”

“I'm just going to head to bed. It's been a long day and I'm already falling asleep.” Tony forced a yawn and walked through to his room.

“Well if you're headed to bed,” Sharon began, returning to her bag and reaching inside. She produced a folded piece of paper that Tony recognized from one of his Mother's beloved notepads, “You might as well take this.”

Tony took the note from his Aunt. She continued.

“Your mother wanted you to read that. She's sorry she couldn't give you a proper goodbye.”

Tony took the note, wished his Aunt goodnight, and proceeded to his room. He took time to brush his teeth and change before going to bed. Lying awake, grinning at the inevitable discovery Sharon would make before bed, he remembered the note and took it from the small desk where he'd placed it. Back in bed, he opened the note for the first time, and read:

Tony,

I'm sorry I had to leave so suddenly. I know this whole trip was my idea and leaving you with your Aunt was never my intention. It's just the way things happened, but I want you to know that I'm so proud of you for being so grown-up for me. I know it's been hard, but it's just you and me. And I feel like this trip, even though I'm gone, could be a turning point for us. Behave for your Aunt. She just wants what's best for you and us. And when I get back, we'll talk about college. I love you, Butternut.

Love,

Mom

Tony was horrified. Any minute, Sharon was going to discover his latest prank and then it was all over; his dream of going off to college, his relationship with his Mom, his freedom all gone. He shot up in his bed and flew to the door he had closed just moments ago. As he reached for the knob, he heard a lion's roar tear through the thin doors of the old home. He didn't spend any time wondering what the sound was. He was focused on his next step; what he would do when he walked through that door to the sight he knew awaited him just six feet through the wall to his left? But as he thought, he couldn't tune out the shrill, screamed words that pierced his eardrums.

“Tony! What the hell have you done!?”

 

[Pierry Louys]

Very good ! I can’t wait for the next chapter!! since I think the someone plans it’s gonna backfire on him hehehe I can see someone sleeping and using some baby things !!

please don’t take so long to post the next chapter 

[babybb]

oh boy somebody is in big trouble   im sure he"ll be wearing his joke soon.  great chapter

[littlepoetmagus]

I'm very glad so many are reading. I have a long, diapered future in store for Tony, so there should be much to come. Thank you all for your time and patience. Updates will likely come weekly at least, but I hope to have them out a little more regularly than that. Buon pomeriggio!

[007specialk]

Great job I am enjoying reading this story.  It's very creative the way you're laying it out for Tony! I can't wait to see what happens.

[SGTbaby]

Hahaha!! Oh this will be fun!!

[Wannatripbaby]

I can't remember if I said this earlier, but this is one of the most well-written stories I've found in a while. Your firm grasp on the english language has not gone unappreciated.

And you plan on putting out a chapter of this length weekly? that's a tall order. Just don't burn yourself out & don't feel bad if you miss a deadline. Just say, "hey guys, I can’t release a chapter this week. Sorry." And we'll be like, "It's okay, bro. We understand."

Once again, phenomenal work.

 

P.s. Do you have a preferred nickname I can call you? Littlepoetmagus is quite the mouthful. Perhaps just Magus? Or LPM?

[littlepoetmagus]

2 hours ago, Wannatripbaby said:

I can't remember if I said this earlier, but this is one of the most well-written stories I've found in a while. Your firm grasp on the english language has not gone unappreciated.

And you plan on putting out a chapter of this length weekly? that's a tall order. Just don't burn yourself out & don't feel bad if you miss a deadline. Just say, "hey guys, I can’t release a chapter this week. Sorry." And we'll be like, "It's okay, bro. We understand."

Once again, phenomenal work.

 

P.s. Do you have a preferred nickname I can call you? Littlepoetmagus is quite the mouthful. Perhaps just Magus? Or LPM?

Thank you. And would you find it strange to know that no one has ever asked me that before? I agree that the full handle is a bit cumbersome, but I'm not sure how to answer your question. I guess go with the one you find superior, but I'm leaning toward LPM. He sounds like the member of a "crew" from a 90s, coming-of-age film.

[Wannatripbaby]

LPM it is!

[CDfm]

Sorry I have taken so long to get to this. I am still recovering from all the new posts following the crash. I am totally loving this story. For a first attempt at writing one, I think you are doing a fantastic job writing it. I laughed at the end of chapter two. That’s a wonderful prank that is bound to cause him a word of problems. I don’t expect that crib to be picked up anytime soon and I am sure it’s going to get plenty of use. Loving it and looking forward to reading more. 

[Sarah Penguin]

[Pierry Louys]

I hope this story comeback !! It’s so funny and well writing!!

 

 

[Jbgraycat]

Love this story so far! Really looking forward to the next chapter

[D503]

Abso-lutely!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UMnT4tp-cMk