If You Act Like A Baby

Chapter 7

Jamie's bladder continued to nag at him, steadily building pressure and causing discomfort. He shifted uneasily, crossing and uncrossing his legs in a desperate attempt to find relief. But the pressure persisted, urging him to find a restroom.

"Mum, please," Jamie pleaded, his voice laced with desperation. "I really need to use the restroom. Can we stop at the next gas station?"

His plea hung in the air, the weight of urgency evident in his voice. But his mother's response was far from sympathetic.

She snapped back, irritation clear in her tone, "Jamie, we're almost home. You're not a toddler anymore; you should be able to hold it for a few minutes!"

Jamie understood that, at his age, he should be capable of controlling his bladder. But recently, his ability to do so had weakened significantly. Wearing diapers with Leo had unknowingly taken a toll on his bladder control.

The convenience of relying on diapers had led to a habit of releasing whenever the need arose, rather than holding on until he could get to a toilet, like a big boy.

Now, without the safety net of a diaper, Jamie found himself desperately in need of a restroom. He couldn't simply let go like he had grown accustomed to.

The fear of making a mess in the car and embarrassing himself loomed large in his mind.

In that moment, he yearned for the comfort of a diaper, knowing it would alleviate his anxiety and allow him to release his bladder without consequences.

As the traffic light ahead turned from amber to red, his mother braked abruptly, jolting the car. The sudden movement proved to be the final straw for Jamie's weakened bladder, and he felt a rush of warmth spreading across his lap.

His trousers became soaked with urine, wetting both his pants and the seat.

The feeling of warmth spreading throughout his crotch was both embarrassing and exhilarating. He could not help but feel a strange sense of satisfaction at having wet himself like a toddler, even though he was totally embarrassed and knew what was about to come when his Mum found out what had happened.

"We're almost there. Are you alright?" his mother asked, her voice laced with concern, cutting through Jamie's embarrassment.

"Thanks Mum" he replied, not revealing that he had already lost his battle.

He sat there quietly, not saying a word, trying to ascertain what he was going to tell his Mum and what his family would think of him.

As they drove towards the house, she urged Jamie to get ready to run.

"Get ready, I'll drop you at the door. You go ahead and use the toilet while I park up. You can then come back and help me with the shopping."

Regret laced Jamie's words as he murmured, "Sorry, Mum. It's too late."

Confusion clouded his mother's face, her brows furrowing in puzzlement as she sought clarification. "Too late?" she asked, her voice laced with a mix of surprise and curiosity. "What do you mean by that?"

Her eyes searched his face, trying to decipher the meaning behind his words.

Jamie hesitated for a moment, his throat dry with apprehension. He took a deep breath, summoning the courage to explain the situation to his mother. "I couldn't hold it, I'm sorry Mum," he finally confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.

A flicker of understanding crossed his mother's features as the realisation dawned upon her. Her eyes widened slightly, a mixture of concern and disbelief intermingling in her gaze. "Jamie!," she uttered, a tinge of disbelief evident in her tone. "I can't believe it. At your age? Are you serious?"