Training Day

Chapter 1
The walk home

Chapter Description: Tommy's walk home after a hard day at work takes a turn for the worst

If my day at work was stressful then the commute home is hell. My train finally turns up to a full platform 20 minutes late, and I end up spending the journey stuck between a builders arm pit, and a Lady determined to talk to her girlfriend on the phone. On a loud Carriage. Right in my Ear hole. To top it all off I really needed to pee, I hadn’t had the chance all afternoon as I seemed to have to deal with everyone else’s problems. Normally I’d just let go and soak my nappy, but Daddy had finally given in to my persistent asking and let me wear training pants to work. I was determined not to let him down, determined to show he could trust me, I didn’t want to arrive home with even the slightest damp spot, I wanted more then anything to be a Big Boy. Thinking about Daddy makes me realise I forgot to text him saying I’d be late, and my phone battery is flat. A strike against me already.

The train pulls into my station and I jump out as soon as the doors open. I make my way out of the station rushing to the bus stop despite the full bladder, making it just in time to see the bus pull away. Just my luck today. With a heartfelt sigh I start walking, trying to concentrate on anything other than my need to pee. It’s only a 15 minute walk, I should be able to hold it shouldn’t I?

I turn off the highstreet, down the long street to home when I feel something else happening. A sudden change in pressure in my bowels, the realisation that I put off going number two that morning because I was rushing about so much! Why now? Even messing a nappy on the way home would result in a spanking and corner time, I don’t know what will happen if I mess these training pants. I probably won’t be able to sit down for a month! A log starts to push out making a bid for freedom, I stop and clench willing it back in. The need subsides a little, and I start walking again, this time slower. If I rush I know I will lose control. Walking slowly, breathing calmly I might just make it in time.

"I will be a big boy, I won’t go in my pants" I keep repeating quietly to myself. A mantra to hold off the need. A man walks past glancing at me,. I must look crazy, muttering, waddling slightly as I try and hold it all in. I keep having to stop when the waves hit, every time the turtle pokes it’s head out as they say, sucking it back in with will power. Slowly I make my way home.

I turn on to my street. "I’m nearly there" I think, speeding up a little. This turns out to be my first mistake. As I walk faster I unclench and before I know it Mr turtle is back. I stop, and hold perfectly still. The log stays half poking out. I try my trick of sucking it back in but this time it doesn’t budge. I’m stuck, stood in the middle of the pavement, trembling slightly. It’s make or break time. I decide to get home and through the door as quickly as possible. Counting to 3 I set off at a high speed waddle. Within seconds the turtle turns into a snake, the load pushing out uncontrollably. I stop again, and instinctively squat a little as the firm log hits my pants. I try to hold it but I have no chance, it just keeps coming and coming. The more that comes out the softer it gets, spreading out into a big bulge pressed up against my butt. I sob a little, tears forming in my eyes at all the wasted effort ending up in the seat of my new training pants. I finally finish with a slight shudder, not believing just how much I’ve messed. It’s even pushed it’s way between my legs a little. I can smell it now, it’s not the worst smell, but just reinforces how bad I’ve just been. I straighten up, feeling everything shift as I do so.

It’s all over. I’ve just soiled myself, in broad daylight, in the middle of my street. The one piece of luck is there is no one around. “At least it can’t get any worse”... the thought forms in my head just as I relax. My second mistake. My bladder reminds me that yes it can get worse, yes I still need to pee, and no I can’t stop it! I flood. I don’t even try to hold it this time. My resolve is completely shot. I just stand there in the street wetting my training pants like a two year old. The training pants are designed to soak up the odd little squirt. Loaded with a massive mess and being flooded with pee it has no chance. The pee escapes out the leg openings like a waterfall, cascading down my legs and soaking my trousers, even my socks get wet. It takes all my willpower in the world to not break down crying right here and now. I just whimper whilst I stand in an expanding puddle of my own making.

I waddle run home, not caring any more. I just want to get cleaned up, get hugs, and get my teddy. Each step is accompanied by a squelch from my soggy shoes, and shift in the load in my pants. There is no getting away from it. I make it to my door and fumble with the key, trying to get it in the lock as I start actually crying, partly from the stress, partly in frustration, mostly because I know just how disappointed Daddy is going to be.