The Cold Hand

By Nocti Raven
nocti.raven@gmail.com

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This story is intended for ADULTS ONLY. It contains explicit depictions of sexual activity involving minors. If you are not of a legal age in your locality to view such material or if such material does not appeal to you, do not read further, and do not save this story.

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Josh sat on the couch, hanging his head in shame. He was wrapped in a white towel, wearing it like a cloak, and underneath it he was naked. After his shower he’d decided he didn’t deserve to put clothes on. Not after what he did to those pajama pants.

Twelve years old, he thought. Twelve years old, and still wetting the bed.

He’d kissed the plastic sheets goodbye when he was five. Now, after seven dry years, his dirty little problem was back with a vengeance. Three times in two weeks.

Still damp from the shower, Josh was starting to feel very chilly in the air-conditioned living room. He pulled his terrycloth cape tightly around him. Maybe it would soak up his shame.

Twelve fucking years old. Seventh fucking grade, and still wetting the bed. There were guys in his class with girlfriends already—guys who bragged about the incredible things they’d seen and done. At recess Josh would listen to their stories, and pray that no one could see the little tent in his pants.

Suddenly Josh wasn’t alone. His little sister, ten-year-old Sarah, had appeared at the base of the stairs. Her PJs consisted of an oversized pink t-shirt, worn like a dress. Josh wondered if she was as naked as him under there.

Ew, he thought. Why would I want to know that? She’s ten years old, and she’s my sister!

But the mental image of little Sarah naked was already forming. He pushed it out of his mind, but it only morphed into his classmate Stephanie, equally naked. And that gave him a nice little boner under the towel.

He wondered what Stephanie would think if she could see him like this. It was not a happy thought.

“Hi,” Sarah said.

“It’s the middle of the night. Go to bed.”

The girl smirked. “Where’s Mom?”

Josh eyed her from behind his damp bangs. He didn’t like the idea of her being here while he was naked. It made him feel strangely vulnerable to think that he might accidentally expose himself if he stood up too fast.

“She’s downstairs,” he said.

“Doin’ what?” Sarah asked, dripping with innocence.

Josh didn’t answer. He hugged his knees under the blanked, making himself as small as possible.

“You wet the bed again, right? And Mom’s putting your sheets and your jammies in the laundry.”

She was, of course, dead-on. Josh already knew that his sister was aware of the bedwetting, but hearing her come out and say it was downright painful.

“Hey,” she said. “Can I tell my friends that you wet the bed?”

He lifted his head and scowled at her. “No. You can’t tell anyone.”

Her smile broadened. “You’re wrong. It’s a free country, so I can tell anyone I want. I could tell everyone at school if I want to—your grade and mine.”

Josh shuddered. He knew where this was going. The cold was deepening, like a big cold hand closing around him.

“No,” he said. “Please . . . you can’t.”

“Hey, are you naked under that towel?”

He shifted nervously. “Please, Sarah, you can’t tell anyone.”

She giggled. “Maybe.”

The big cold hand tightened its grip. She stared at him like she could see right through the towel. It made him want to squirm.

Then their mother emerged in the doorway, her slippers dusty from the basement floor. She was an attractive woman, almost forty, with exasperation on her face and a red duffle bag in her hand.

“Josh,” she said, “we need to talk.”

“I know,” he said, not meeting her eyes.

Mom dropped the duffle bag on the coffee table, then sat in the big armchair. Sarah, apparently part of the discussion as well, plopped down on the sofa next to Josh—entirely too close for comfort. Close enough to pull his towel away if she felt like it.

“Mom,” Josh said, “Sarah threatened to tell people at school about my be—I mean, about my problem.”

The tired mother sighed. “Sarah, please don’t do that. This is going to be hard enough for your brother as it is.”

Sarah smirked. “Okey dokey.”

“Josh,” his mom said, “clearly the bedwetting is back. And it’s not going away any time soon.”

Josh nodded, resigned. “I’ll go back to plastic sheets.”

“I don’t think so. That still makes too much mess. I’m going to make an appointment with a doctor, maybe get you a prescription for incontinence. Until then, you’re going back in diapers.”

Josh’s stomach did a backflip. His mind involuntarily conjured the image of him in a diaper—but it was just his head on a little baby’s body. And Sarah was holding the baby, pinching it cruelly—and she was in Josh’s classroom, surrounded by his classmates, and they were all laughing their heads off.

He shook his head. Back to reality.

“In . . .diapers?”

Mom opened the duffle bag and extracted an unmistakable puffy white object. “I hoped we wouldn’t have to use these, but I’m done doing late-night laundry.”

“But,” Josh stammered, “but . . . they’re so puffy. They’ll show through my pants.” It was the only reasonable objection he could think of—and he knew how lame it was.

“Josh,” Sarah said, “have you ever peed your pants at school?”

“What? No! Only at night.”

“Then you don’t need to worry about pants. I’ll put the diapers on you before bed, and take them off in the morning.”

Josh’s head was spinning. “What? You? Mom!”

“I’m sorry, Josh,” Mom said, “but that’s the way it’s going to be. I’ve changed enough diapers for one lifetime, and Sarah’s volunteered to help out with this. I think she’s responsible enough.”

“But, but can’t I just—”

“No,” said Mom, clearly psychic. “They’re not meant to be self applied. And honestly, I can’t trust that you’ll do it unsupervised.”

So that was it. Josh looked at his mom and his sister; the way they both stared at him made him very aware of his current nakedness.

Mom tossed the diaper to Sarah, who deftly snatched it from the air. She looked at Josh expectantly.

“What?” Josh said. “Now?”

Mom nodded. “No time like the present.”

“But I already peed tonight! There’s no need to—”

“Call it a practice diaper,” Mom said. “Just once while I supervise, so I know Sarah’s good to go.”

“You’re already naked, right?” Sarah said.

Josh was well and truly trapped now. That cold hand was never letting go.

“Come on,” Sarah said. “you can put the towel on the coffee table.”

He slowly, shakily got to his feet, but kept the towel wrapped around his shoulders. He couldn’t just drop it! How could any self-respecting young man just bare himself completely before his mother and his obnoxious little sister?

Sarah promptly resolved the issue by grabbing a corner of the towel and yanking.

The towel was in a heap on the ground, and Josh was in his birthday suit. He blushed from head to toe, every single hairless inch of him. His nipples were stiff and his dick was a little button.

He brought his hands up to cover his privates, but somehow that only made the embarrassment worse. Most of his body hadn’t seen sunlight in years, and Sarah’s gaze burned like a laser beam.

He gingerly bent down to pick up the towel, but—

“Josh.” His mom would have none of that.

Sarah tapped the couch. “Come lie down. On your back.”

He looked longingly at his mother, but her expression was devoid of mercy.

Stiffly and awkwardly, Josh managed to lie down without exposing his little secrets. His legs were bent, but Sarah wedged her fingers between them and spread them nice and wide.

Like one of those vagina doctors, Josh thought miserably.

“Josh,” Sarah said with singsong innocence, “I can’t put a diaper on you with your hands in the way.”

Josh swallowed his pride—and his dignity, and self-respect, and the last remains of his confidence—and withdrew his hands.

The look of glee on Sarah’s face was simply frightening.

“See, Mom? I told you he’d be little!”

Josh felt utterly violated—but not nearly as violated as he felt five seconds later, when Sarah began poking at his naked pelvis.

“Hey, shouldn’t there be hair here?”

“There will be,” Mom said. “It takes some boys longer than others.”

Every instinct drove Josh to cover up again, to protect his most sensitive area from Sarah’s sinister little hand, but he knew that wouldn’t end well.

And then there was a flash of pain—pain so ferocious that it consumed the entire world. Without warning Sarah had tapped him on the scrotum, putting all the strength of her arm behind four rapidly descending fingertips.

Josh wheezed in pain and brought his knees up into his chest. And his hands went straight to his aching balls.

Sarah was laughing.

“Careful, sweetie,” Mom said. She was laughing too. “Those are very delicate.”

“I see that,” Sarah said. “Good to know.”

Josh finally understood what people meant when they said I just want to crawl into a hole and die.

Slowly, and with ample coaxing, he lowered his legs back into position. Sarah had placed a diaper under him while he was curled up. As soon as his legs were spread, she brought the strange garment together over his unobtrusive front, and stuck the sticky parts in place.

“There!” she said. “Adorable!”

“Stand up,” said Mom.

Demeaning as the diaper was, at least it put some padding between his balls and his sister. In fact, his whole body was much more relaxed now that his testicles felt safe. He got to his feet and stretched.

Then Sarah giggled, and the humiliation came crashing down on him.

Twelve years old . . . and wearing a diaper.

“You look very cute, honey,” said Mom. “Now come kiss me goodnight.”

Walking across the room was awkward with a diaper on. He tried to keep the ruffling noises to a minimum, but quickly gave up.

He bent over to kiss his mother. While his lips touched her cheek, she caught one of his nipples between her thumb and forefinger. When he tried to pull back, she squeezed painfully and wouldn’t let go.

She pulled him a little closer, and spoke softly into his ear. “I know you don’t like this, honey, but it really is for the best. Now stay on your sister’s good side, ‘cause she has my permission to spank you.”

That cold hand was now much smaller, and firmly gripping Josh’s balls.

She let go of his nipple and blew him a kiss.

Eyes wide with terror, Josh turned and looked at his sister. She gave him a dastardly wink, and blew him a kiss just like Mom’s.

He turned his back on both of them and walked up the stairs to bed.

In his dreams that night, Josh was stalked by a terrible monster with hands made of ice. It was small and skinny, and it wore an oversized t-shirt. Josh himself was naked in the dream, and whenever the monster came up behind him, her laser vision would strike a searing agony into his butt.

Somehow, his diaper was wet the next morning.

The End