Step Down - Chapter 4

[D503]

I've always got a hundred stories in my mind, but this just came-up and I had to write it down. Hopefully my muse remains with me.

This fictional story contains explicit adult content and is intended for readers 18 and older. If you are under 18 or uncomfortable with mature themes, please stop reading now. 

Step Down

Chapter 1
Present Day

His first step brother was bad enough, but his new step-brother seemed even more unbearable because he was well-liked, had a good part-time job and had more freedom, but was younger! It was infuriating. And even if Lachlan used to tease him mercilessly for his bedwetting - even after his mom had split-up with Chris - that was at least 4 years ago and he’d thankfully finally stopped wetting. But Cayden still had a curfew at 19 years old for chrissakes! Noah had just turned 18 and could do what he wanted. He even had his own decent second-hand car. Sure, Cayden had gotten a low-level drink-driving charge, and just because his special licence conditions imposed a curfew, didn’t mean his parents had to! And he couldn’t believe his mum let his new step-dad spank him over it, nor did he really put up a fight or even run away from home - he knew he couldn’t take on Ross nor make it on his own yet. It was too shameful. He knew Noah must have been listening and laughing at the spanking. He wasn’t even able to drive his mum’s car without supervision for at least another 6 months. Noah wouldn’t let him anywhere near his old BMW. 

“You’d better wise-up bucko. You're very lucky my lawyer got you a Section 10 suspended license. Do you know how hard it is to get a job with a criminal record? Sometimes you can’t even travel to foreign countries with a DUI. You’re bloody lucky you didn’t kill someone, yourself or wreck the car. It’s going to be a long time before we can trust you like an adult again. You’ll need to show us you’re working towards being more responsible like Noah and either studying with a part-time job or joining the army and learn to behave like a man,” his step-dad Ross had reminded him again after the court date.

No, Noah was the Golden Boy. He could do no wrong in Ross’ eyes and even his mum Steph fell in love with his charms. He’d just been accepted into the National Institute of Dramatic Art and mum had always loved drama at school, and had even been in amateur productions. Everyone was over the moon - they all expected he’d soon be on Neighbours or even in Hollywood or The West End in a few years. He’d already gained attention in regional High School drama competitions and he’d even been an extra in a couple of teen TV advertisements. It didn’t help Ross and Noah came from a rich family while Steph was more middle-class and they’d recently ended-up moving into Ross’ big fancy apartment on Sydney Harbour. Cayden had certainly noticed the hoity-toity attitude from Noah and his friends. Some of them owned yachts, horses, and went on big European holidays. Others were becoming doctors (ugh) and lawyers (ugh). One girl he fancied was even training to be a navy helicopter pilot. While they were usually polite, none of them really tried to hide their disdain for the nerdy or poorly-dressed Cayden. He’d even overheard Liv, Noah’s girlfriend, agreeing with Noah that he must still be a virgin - which was true, but still hurt - followed-up by the cruel laughter they all often employed. 

When he’d recently gotten some courage to talk to his counsellor about Lachlan and his teasing over his bedwetting, he’d said he probably still had some unprocessed trauma about the whole thing. And that might explain his disdain for Noah, who was clearly leagues ahead of him in maturity. It especially didn’t help when his mother Steph was convinced to get Cayden to wear Huggies DryNites pull-ups for his bedwetting because Lachlan would always complain about the smell and must have seen the benefit in doing less washing all the time. While Lachlan was relentless in the teasing over his “Huggies” - especially when he was wet in the morning - Cayden would beg to be allowed to try alternative methods (which he’d googled) such as special drugs, hypnosis or even just a washable bed pad. After speaking with the family doctor - always a terrifying ordeal for Cayden in front of the female doctor whenever his bedwetting came-up - his mum wasn’t keen on the drug side-effects. Besides, Dr Sharma said that nighttime protection could be beneficial for a teen’s restful sleep. 

Chris had finally put his foot down and said that if he was still wetting the bed like a toddler at 14, he would wear pull-ups like a toddler and that was that. And if he didn’t stop complaining, Cayden would get a spanking and they’d order some cloth nappies and plastic pants for him - something that Chris’ cousins had to wear for bedwetting when he was a child - arguing they’d be cheaper in the long-run than expensive DryNites. That shut-up Cayden, but triggered Lachlan into further ecstatic spasms of teasing - he’d google these dreaded babyish items and send them to Cayden via threatening SnapChats. He would manage to find all sorts of babyish versions made for adults to send to him and it made Cayden wonder who really wore all this stuff. Lachlan didn’t even get into trouble when Chris was teased at school about it. It got so bad, they had to move him to another school. Fortunately the stink of it didn’t follow him.

While he lost the battle over his pull-ups, his mum did agree to some hypnosis which apparently had helped Chris give-up smoking. Not that Cayden stopped wetting for another two years, but he assumed it must have had an effect as his wet nights slowly reduced over time. The smaller spare room was eventually converted into a bedroom for Chris who had to keep his old single bed, while Lachlan as the older boy, upgraded to a double-bed and his own larger room. 

After his mum broke-up with Chris, they’d moved into a small apartment and things seemed to get better without Lachlan, even if he still sent the occasional SnapChat. Cayden didn’t have the guts to block him, lest he find another more public channel to humiliate him with. After Cayden finished High School with passable results, he bummed-around for a bit, playing games and riding to the beach. His mother demanded he get his license and get a job and start paying board because rent was getting really expensive. He countered that he was still trying to work-out what he wanted to do, and besides most kids these days had a gap year anyway. Not that he’d done much except playing games, swimming and having the occasional piss-up in the park with his mate Jack who would buy a box of cheap goon wine. He finally got his open license eventually - after failing once - of which his mother was very proud, until he fucked-up. 

In the meantime, she’d met Ross and they’d moved in, and while they weren’t paying rent anymore, the pressure had actually increased and they were once-again demanding Cayden grow-up and be like Noah. If only he could take the Pampered Prince down a peg or two and deflect some attention away from himself. 

 

[D503]

Chapter 2
Five Years Ago
 

“Well well, what do we have here? A little boy trying to go to the toilet all by himself?” The older and larger group of boys in the toilet block all snickered. Needing to pee - and seeking-out the usually quieter toilet block - he’d been blindsided by the boys who’d now already blocked his exit. 

“Lachlan, please. I need to go”.
 

“I can tell, but we can’t have little boys peeing unsupervised - they might pee all over the seat, forget to wash their hands or even forget to pull down their pants first!” All the boys laughed.
 

“Well, Caydie are you going to ask your big bro Lachy to help you use the potty or not? You better not wait too long though or there’ll be a mess.”
 

“Please, let me go”. Cayden moved towards the toilet, but the boys held him back. 
 

“Uh uh uh, clearly you’ve never been trained. Boys have a pee-pee so they can stand and use the ‘ur-in-al’. Can you say that with me? ‘Ur-in-al’. Now unless you need to do a big poo-poo? Huh? Does Caydie need to go poopie as well?”
 

“C’mon now, answer big Lachy and we can help you decide”.

“No, I don’t need to take a shit.”
 

Lachlan swats Cayden’s bum hard. “OW!”  
 

“Naughty! Little boys don’t swear. Now, let’s try that again - you say ‘no Lachy, I don’t need to do poopies right now’. OK?”

“No, Lachlan, I don’t need to poo”.

“Hmm… close enough. But we’ll need to work on that attitude. I’m your big step brother trying to help you after all. Don’t you want to be able to pee on your own? Don’t you want to one day wake up in a dry bed?” Hilarious. Everyone already knew Cayden was a bedwetter.
 

“OK, let’s get you stood here”. He guides Cayden over to the urinal, who puts up little resistance against his much bigger brother. “Now, the fly is usually too difficult for little boys, so it’s much easier to simply drop your pants!”. Two other boys grab Cayden’s hands and he struggles as Lachlan unbuckles and unbutton his grey shorts and unceremoniously dumps his shorts around his ankles. “And, now your little undies!” The boys crack-up as they sneak looks at Cayden’s small penis. 
 

“Yep, we’ve definitely got a little boy here. Let’s get you a little closer to the wall so you don’t miss!” With Lachlan’s help, the boys holding Cayden shuffle him forward slightly with his pants around his ankles. 
 

“I need to hold it!”
 

“Tsk tsk, little boys don’t need to worry about that. Besides, it’s almost too small to hold anyway. Ok, Caydie, time to pee in the potty - try not to miss or Lachy will need to keep training you”. 
 

“I can’t pee!”
 

“Oh come now - Cooper, turn on the tap”. Another boy walks over and turn on the tap. The sound immediately seems to help Cayden and he begins peeing. Unfortunately Cayden is unable to control his direction and pee sprays all over the urinal and over the sides and some sprays back onto him. The boys holding his arms don’t make it easy either by resisting his attempts at freeing himself while dodging any splash-back.
 

“Oh Caydie you were doing so well. Well, it’s your first time I guess, I’m sure you’ll get better with each try.”
 

“OK, let’s get your shorts on.” Lachlan begins to pull-up Cayden’s undies. 
 

“I need to shake!”
 

“Shhh! It’s clear you’re not old enough to touch your pee-pee. That’s only for big boys”. Cayden feels some remnant pee soak into his undies. A small dark-grey wet spot appears on his shorts while Lachlan finishes buckling his belt.
 

“Now seeing you made such a big mess, let your big bro show you how to aim.” Lachlan makes a spinning gesture with his hand. Cayden has no idea what is going on, but all of a sudden he’s facing Lachlan, being held tighter with his feet further apart and bolstered and his bum nearly touching the urinal.
 

Lachlan unzips his fly, pulls out a much larger penis and starts to pee right onto the front of Lachlan’s shorts. Cayden’s struggles are useless - the much stronger older boys were ready for this. They all cheer.
 

Cayden begins to shout out “NO! HELP!” One of the boys holding him attempts to muffle him. 
 

“QUIET! Or I’ll make you drink it.” This silences the now crying boy.
 

Lachlan doesn’t let up and Cayden’s entire front of his shorts, legs and socks become soaked with pee. “See, I didn’t miss a thing.” More laughter.
 

They sit the blubbering boy on a toilet. “Now you sit here on your potty and think about whether it’s worth blabbing to your mummy about me teasing you or taking videos. If you get me grounded one more time or I lose my phone privileges again, you won’t just be wet next time.” 
 

“Cooper, go tell Mrs Franklin you saw a crying little Cayden in here with wet pants who needs some adult attention. I’m sure she’ll love that”.  
 

“I can’t believe I have to share a room with that pissy-pants toddler. That’s gonna have to change.” Lachlan remarked on his way out.
 

***

“Miss! Cayden’s wet his pants again,” the boy was out of breath. The smirk betrayed him: he'd ran across the oval to make his announcement, not out of concern, but rather triumph.

“Oh no, not again. Where is he?” Mrs Franklin was concerned, but more for the orderly operation of the school - a pants-wetter in their midst caused all sorts of opportunities for teasing and disruption. It could also reflect poorly on the school’s reputation - this was a place where future leaders were made. Mrs Franklin had raised two boys through Sydney Boys’ Grammar and certainly didn’t want the stain of a weak incontinent boy ruining the school’s good name. FOURTEEN and still wetting his pants and his bed every night - according to the medical form - it was a disgrace. His grades would also bring-down the class average - he excelled at IT but little else. Simply didn’t apply himself. Probably undiagnosed autistic. They should bundle him up in nappies and dump him at a special school. She’d met the stepfather - a good Grammar man himself - but his new fling and her feeble boy certainly weren’t Grammar material. As for the son, he was a natural bully - overweight with middling grades and a mean disposition - but outstanding in the rugby and rowing teams, so it evened out. He could still be moulded into the man they wanted or shunted to Officer’s school.

“In the Cricket Oval toilets”.

"OK well, you better go grab Mr Davies and tell him we need him down there. I’ll get some spare clothes from Ms Ainsley’s and meet you down there. Thanks Cooper.” Cayden better hope he’d washed and returned his spare clothes from the last incident. Or, given his size, he’d likely still fit into a Grade 6 uniform even if that was a bit humiliating for the boy - the primary school tended to have more spare clothes on hand. She’ll double-check with Angela - it’s possible the boy had kept it hidden from the mother. And given she’d still not toilet trained him at night, it’s hard to say if any discipline was enacted in the home, though she hoped Chris kept him in line. I’ll definitely be recommending to them that he starts wearing training pants, if just to avoid the hubbub.

Cooper jogged-off, happy to extend his role as the herald of the humiliation of Cayden and relishing in the attention from the cooler older boys. He was in Cayden’s grade - and having already participated in the hazing - he was further enough away from Lachlan’s circle of friends so as to not arouse suspicion as the messenger.

[D503]

Chapter 3

Present Day
 

It wasn’t until later when a YouTube ad popped-up on his screen for new Pampers size 8 that it clicked. He flushed slightly seeing the ad - his recent searches had been a little compromising. He cleared his cache and resolved to be more careful using incognito mode. He had circled-around the topic with his counsellor but was reluctant to fully admit he’d been having sexual thoughts about diapers. On the one hand he hated diapers - all those years of teasing, threats, follow-through on threats, exposure, and just the sheer humiliation of being forced to wear them against his will without putting up more of a fight had deeply affected his psyche. (This notwithstanding his own shameful admission that diapers were better than a wet bed). On the other hand, this deep scar seemed to trigger intense feelings that somehow manifested as both the titillating excitement of raw humiliation and a corresponding desire to be cared for - almost a need to be “safe”. And diapers seemed to be the pivot on which the pendulum of these emotions swung. 
 

He initially worried his counsellor would leak to his mum he was a sexual pervert and they’d pack him up to a mental asylum or something. But not long after googling for pictures of men in diapers, he discovered an entire world of “adult baby” paraphernalia and Discord channels. So it was OK but still really taboo. He was still too embarrassed to bring it up directly with Brad but he might have tipped his hand asking related questions. He certainly wasn’t going to mention golden showers though. 
 

After he saw the Pampers ad, he remembered his new nickname for Noah: “The Pampered Prince”. He hadn’t put the two meanings together when it first came to him, but now it fit perfectly. Not only was he a spoiled rich nepo-baby, he could become a real baby! Or at least a bedwetter who’d need diapers at night. And while his tastes tended towards his own diaper submission, he was excited by the idea of secretly forcing someone else back into diapers. And he knew a way to do it: hypnosis. 
 

For nearly two years, Cayden was encouraged and then required to listen to a 30-minute cure bedwetting track as part of his enforced nightly routine which mandated pull-ups and a 9:30pm bedtime on school nights (and only an hour later on Friday and Saturday night). He’d initially volunteered to listen to the tape in lieu of having to wear DryNites, but having lost that battle, he eventually stopped listening after it didn’t seem to have any effect. His parents however had noticed his decreased mood and surmised while reviewing his smart watch data with Dr Sharma (who’d recommended it) that the tape had been providing a calming effect that’d brought-on deep sleeper quicker, even if it wasn’t solving the core problem. They then agreed without his consent to make the tape part of his nightly routine and even tracked his cooperation via his smart watch. 
 

He occasionally protested this new injustice - especially when having to quit an online game early - but was always brought-up sort by the threat of a spanking and old-school “nappies”. He’d rationalised that it was better than the conspicuous bedwetting calendar they made him hang in the room and complete each morning - with Lachlan never failing to mention his unbroken “Loser Streak” - and resolved to fight that battle instead. Lachlan even made a SnapChat where he flipped through his previous months constant failures and wondered why his father hadn't yet renovated the old spare study/music/spare room into a nursery, complete with a cot, to house the chronic bedwetting Huggies baby - and give him some peace from the stench of it all. (In truth, Cayden had to put his wet DryNite into a nappy bag and dispose of it into the rubbish chute each morning, so there was little remnant smell). It certainly got better when he got the small spare room (fortunately not converted into a nursery) and the calendar became less conspicuous, but he still hated how they were probably right about him being less moody with an extremely enforced nightly routine and bedtime.
 

So sure, it might take awhile for a reverse bedwetting treatment tape to work on Noah - sporadic dry nights only appearing for Cayden a few months later - but seeing Noah experience nighttime accidents would make it all worth it. That meant he also needed a hidden camera to ensure he didn’t miss any key moments. And a few accidents also didn’t mean instant diapers for Noah. He’d need to embed a desire or compulsion to seek-out diapers as a logical, convenient and “temporary” solution to the problem.
 

Based on his exposure to the ABDL subculture, he had an inkling such hypnotic tapes would exist. He just assumed they might cost upwards of $50 USD. He was shocked to find after a quick google search hundreds of possible (free!) files with ratings and detailed descriptions. You just needed a free account to download. He sorted through the bedwetting files by rating, delighting in the positive comments which seemed to show results after a few weeks or even days, and became aroused at the content, even downloading a few choice files and skipping ahead to their juicy suggestions. It seemed the subliminal tapes would work best on an unsuspecting party, but would take longer for the effects to manifest. It wasn't until he strayed into the more “dangerous” files that he became really aroused. One read:
 

“This is a serious file that causes a forceful, psychological need to be diapered before bed. Powerful pleasure conditioning that makes you need to be diapered at night, and strong, negative feelings of fear, shame, and worry naturally become implanted, triggered only if you are a bad baby and aren’t sleeping in diapers. Wetting will only be possible in your diaper at night, and it will rapidly become automated and out of your control.”

 

“Oi! Little wanker, if you're goon to your - what is that anyway? - whatever. If you're gonna beat-off to your femboy cuck Harry Potter fanfiction, close the fucken door. Liv and I can hear your pathetic moans from the front door,” Noah blasted at him, slightly bemused. Cayden, aghast, minimises his desktop, removes his gaming headphones and attempts to compose himself, but the sexualised anime background of his monitor does little to defuse the tension. He fumbles at his shorts and mouths over his shoulder: “No I wasn't”.

“Look, I don't care that you're a little incel weeb who's never touched a woman's breasts or guy's cock - whatever I dont care - but at 19 bloody years of age at least find yourself another pathetic nerd to experiment on and give us a fucken rest. Especially when Liv is here. Is this the third time I've caught you now? In fact, seeing you're not even able to admit it suggests to me you probably need some help. Aren't you already seeing a counsellor? Anyway, I think it's high time Steph learns her son is a chronic masturbator, if she doesn't know already.”
 

Cayden risks turning around in his computer chair slightly, trying to avoid showing-off his erection. “Please, no! Noah, I'm sorry, I forgot to shut the door. Everyone was out and I didn't hear you.”

“Too little too late Tugger. You should do it in the shower like a “normal” pubescent boy. I'm sick of my girlfriend being exposed to your filthy little habit. At least she knows us real men can pleasure a woman and not themselves.”

 

Liv pokes her head around the door next to Noah and gives him a judgemental look and then an evil smile. They walk away laughing which escalates into their textbook cruel laughter. 
 

"Fuckity fucken fuck!" he says to himself. Ah fuck ‘em. Cayden resolves to push his plan forward.

[D503]

Chapter 4

Five Years Ago

“Angela, Cayden’s wet himself again - I’ll need to get down to the cricket toilets and sort him out again. I know it could be a medical condition, but I’m growing impatient with his accidents. He’s certainly not Grammar material. Did he bring back those spare clothes from the last time?” Mrs Franklin asked.

“Oh dear. Yes, he sheepishly returned them the following Monday, unironed again. And he didn’t bring-back any of the spare undies - the second time I told him he could store a pair here just in case. As you may recall, we only had SpongeBob briefs leftover from the primary school, and he was pretty embarrassed about those. Fortunately they fit him.”

“Indeed, well he’s just lucky you had some on-hand. It’s quite disappointing he hasn’t returned school property - even if they’re just for him. So he’s probably not telling his mother and secretly washing and drying his uniform - but not ironing - and then throwing away his undies. I’m surprised he kept it hidden from his mother with his step-brother around. I hope the shirt and shorts were actually clean?”

“Yes. I took them home again and ironed them myself. The poor boy should’ve just told his mother the first time - now I’ll definitely have to send a note home via the office as it’s his third time. I probably should have done it last time, but I gave him the benefit of the doubt.”

“You’re too good Angela - and we’ll make sure it’s expected he returns his clothes ironed this time, with a pair of undies included. Speaking of which, do you still have any spare?”

“Yes, I ordered some black trunks in various sizes just in case.”

“Again, Angela, you’re too good, but I’ve a mind to teach the boy of the consequences of constantly wetting his pants at his age. Especially if he’s disposing of school property and causing disruption among students”.

“Hmm, well, there’s still a couple of SpongeBob briefs leftover - I…”

“No, I had a mind of something more ‘protective’ - do you stock the spare pull-ups for school camps?”

“Oh yes, Mrs Walker prefers to keep them stored here than with the camping equipment. But I’m not sure, I - I wouldn’t want to get in trouble with the parents or admin”.

“Let me take the lead on this. If he actually tells his mother this time and she complains, I’ll let her know we ran out of briefs after Cayden didn’t return his last pair for safekeeping, and that you were also forced to iron the returned uniform. Oh and by the way, did she know Cayden has already wet his pants twice before? Given this isn’t an isolated incident Angela, he may actually have a bladder problem and some form of protection might actually save the boy from further embarrassment. I’ll be letting his mother know that they should discuss this with their doctor. Though I’m sure he’ll deny the problem and blame it on his step-brother like the last two times.” 

“Well, it’s hard to argue with you on keeping the boy protected and free from public wetting accidents - it must be mortifying at age”. 

“It really is.” Mrs Franklin walks over and opens a large medical cupboard and examines a pair of pull-ups from the packet. “Ahh, so this 13+ size, yes? Not too big I hope?”

“Try the 8-15 years size on the left for Cayden, he’s a bit too small for those ones I think.”. Mrs Franklin returns the 13+ DryNite with white dots and picks-up a pair with blue and red stripes, pleased at the more juvenile style.

“That’s the one”. 

“I really should send him home with a spare, but judging from his camp medical record, I imagine he’s got plenty of these already”. She also picks up a nearby packet of wipes. 

“Yes, poor boy - quite a few bedwetters seem to have daytime accidents. Some with a perennially small bladder, others perhaps grow too used to pull-ups - I really think the parents should consider modern cloth nappies - they don’t give the illusion of dryness and will help train them to wake”.

“Yes, but I’m afraid modern conveniences tend to win-out with busy parents and lazy children.”

“Mmm hmm”.

“Well, at least this might force some changes. And this is the uniform in his size? Thanks. Well, I better get down there before it turns into a hullabaloo”. 

“Thanks Joan. Send him up here if he needs a place to calm down.”.

***

Boys of various age groups had been going in and out of the cricket oval toilet block and taunting Cayden in the locked stall, on the rumour he’d wet his pants again. Some boys had even climbed-up onto the adjacent toilets to look down at him. Cayden kept the bag across his knees hoping desperately to hide the accident and trying to get his crying under control. Lachlan had let the false news spread and had kept a safe distance but was enjoying the reports of his further humiliation pouring-in. Ms Cousins on playground duty had come to investigate the noise but was relieved to see Mr Davies pouding down towards the toilet block.

“Alright you lot, out!” Mr Davies boomed out. The place immediately went silent. A couple of boys slinked-out of the toilet block. “You know the rules, no loitering around the toilet block or there’ll be trouble. Start making your way to class! Jeff, go next door to Mr Foster and let him know I’ll be late and I said it was OK for you guys to resume your project.” Mr Davies said. He was the old grumpy manual arts teacher who was a contemporary of Mrs Franklin and was often employed as the disciplinarian. 

“Yes sir.”

“Glad you’re here to move them on John - what’s going on?”

“Apparently our resident teenage pants-wetter has done it once again. If I had my way, I’d suspend him for this third strike. Disturbing the peace, impinging on our time and conduct that is unbecoming of a Grammar student should be sufficient. But we can’t be seen to be ‘discriminating’ these days.” Mr Davies said. He was no big fan of the administration and their “soft” ways.

“Hmm. Oh hello Joan,” Cindy says as Mrs Franklin arrives. “Thankfully it looks like you’ve come prepared - and if I’m not mistaken are they pull-ups?” Joan hadn’t made a big effort to hide what she was carrying.

“Yes, hello. Angela and I think it’s high time Cayden was put into some protection for his own good, if just to avoid all this.” Mrs Franklin gestured over at all the subdued, but laughing boys leaving the area she’d passed through.

“Well I guess if Angela, and yourself, thinks that it’s necessary. I guess it’s for the best - it’s all very disrupting isn’t it?” Cindy asks. The bell rings for the end of lunch.

“Incredibly” Mr Davies says after the bell ends. “If it stops stirring up the hornets' nest and interrupting my classes then I’m all for it.” He gestures at the pull-up: “Seems like a more than appropriate solution for a fourteen year old pants-wetter,” Mr Davies says in disgust.

Joan nods heartily. “Yes, well, we’ll definitely be letting his mother know this time - he might’ve been hiding his issue up to now - and we’ll recommend they speak to a doctor about it. Perhaps they may even mandate the pull-ups. I just hope he’s not uncovered for his sake. Though with Lachlan around, who knows what ruckus will ensue. It’s probably better for everyone if Cayden is moved to a special school where he can get the appropriate care. I don’t think we can wait another two years for Lachlan to graduate, and he’d much benefit from less distractions.”

“What is it with this generation?” Mr Davies laments, clearly holding-back on disgorging his full opinion, perhaps keen to return to his senior class. 

“Well I guess we better sort this boy out John”. School rules generally required two teachers to attend a boy’s toilet block, with at least one male teacher or admin staff recommended.

“Thank God we’ve got your caring maternal instincts here Joan - I just don’t think I could deal with such an infantile issue in a teenage boy without bursting-out laughing,” Ms Cousins admits.

“Yes, well, we all have to remain professional, but I certainly don’t indulge the boy - his mother has been doing too much of that. You may not already know, but he still wets his bed every night according to our camp records. That sort of thing should’ve been sorted out years ago. I just hope the new step-father can bring some common sense to the matter.”

[wetdiaper55]

Nice story