“I bought the boy two T-shirts and three pairs of pantyhose,” I said to Natasha, unwrapping the bundle with children's clothes.

- How lovely! - Natasha smiled, looking at children's tights.

“I’ll dress these ones, white ones,” I decided, nodding at the white tights, “But first, let him go down small.” We go home for an hour. If now does not pee, just on the way home wet tights.

- Too you say! - Natasha looked at me with a smile, - Eight?

“You saw how he started a trickle during bathing,” I said, “Now you can expect everything from a boy.”

Pulling an enamel pot from Sasha’s bag, I beckoned the boy to me.

- Now let's try this pot, - I smiled, - Well, what did you do on the sofa? Come here!

The boy reluctantly approached me. Judging by his red face, he had already guessed what he was being asked for.

- popping in the pot? - I smiled at Sasha.

I moved the pot to Sasha's feet and looked expectantly at the boy.

“Oh, how one kid is peeing now,” I said tenderly, squatting next to Sasha.

Satisfied with the effect produced - the face offendedly twisted by Sasha, I continued to tease the boy, talking to him like a little one.

- What is this thing hanging from Sasha between the legs? - I was jokingly surprised, raising two little Sasha's pisyunchik with two fingers, - Again forgot how to use it?

I gently squeezed my fingers over a thin little boy’s wand, noting that although I’m touching her far from the first time, it’s still very cool to do it.

- Maybe something happened to you with pisyunchik? - I gently asked an embarrassed child, - It seems everything is in order. Come on, honey. Need to pee. We are now home for an hour to go. You're on my way exactly described.

Natasha chuckled ironically, but said nothing.

“Letter-letter-letter,” I began to sentence, “Doesn't Sasha want to show Aunt Natasha how he can pull a trickle?”

I continued to persuade the boy a couple of minutes, but did not achieve anything.

- Come quickly write to the pot! - I ordered, having lost patience, - I will not dress panties until you get off on a little!

“How will you go home then?” - with an ironic smile asked Natasha.

- And so let's go! - I said, - Without pants. With a bare booty.

“I imagine,” Natasha laughed.

“I’m not joking,” I repeated to the boy, “I'll take the whole city with a bare booty.” And let everyone admire you like this.

The threat to the boy did not work. Realizing that now I will not be able to make Sasha go in a small way, I began to get angry that he was not listening to me again. “It looks like he won't write,” I thought, “And I wanted to see how he would put a trickle in the pot.”

“For whom did I buy this pot?” - I shouted at the boy, - Will you write to him or not?

I sighed and removed the pot. Seeing the boy's delighted face, I finally became angry that his stubbornness had won again.

- What did you have to pee in the pot? - I attacked Sasha, - I tried to persuade me for five minutes. A good boy would have gone a little while ago. Again, do not you listen? Say thank you to hurry home. A lot of business is waiting, so there is no time to mess with you now. And then she would have laid on her knees and spanked on the bare ass! Nothing come home, I'll deal with you!

I suddenly remembered a diuretic and a cunning plan has ripened in my head. “Soon you’ll ask for the pot yourself, like a pretty little one,” I thought, but I didn’t say anything out loud.

“It’s written exactly on the way home,” I sighed ...

“Enough for you, Ol,” said Natasha. “Well, the boy really is not two years old.” Is he unable to bear an hour?

“It’s described,” I said confidently, scrolling through the cunning plan in my head, “Do you want to argue?”

“Well, well,” Natasha smiled ironically.

I took a baby bottle with a pacifier out of the bag.

“Okay,” I said conciliatingly, “If I’ve gotten dry, I’ll immediately make the house go to the pot.” In the meantime, instead of a pot, we’ll try another purchase — this bottle. Do you have milk?

- Yes, - Natasha smiled.

Natasha went to the fridge and took out a bag of milk.

- Thank you, - I thanked the girl, - Now we boil this milk. Kids drink only boiled.

I went to the kitchen, where I quickly boiled milk in the first saucepan I got. After that, I carefully filled them with a baby bottle, after pouring out a bag of diuretic powder. Shaking the bottle well, I poured from my nipple onto my finger to try the milk. “Very light taste,” I smiled to myself, “Most likely I won’t guess anything.”

- Quickly drink! - I ordered Sasha, returning to the room.

The boy grimaced hurt, but nevertheless took the bottle from me and thrust it into the mouth.

“I will not wear tights until you have drunk the whole bottle,” I told an eight year old tomboy.

After waiting for Sasha to drink all the milk, I quickly dressed him in white tights.

- Just a sight for sore eyes! - Natasha smiled, staring at the boy at close range.

“I, too, cannot stop looking at him,” I said. “But I guess I need to pull it higher.”

“Where it is already higher,” Natasha laughed. “You already pulled these tights almost to your breasts.” By the way, you forgot to wear pants for him.

“It will go without panties,” I said, “Two-year-olds don't wear them.” Only diapers - those who do not know how to ask for a pot. It was necessary for Sasha to buy diapers, since he refuses so much from the pot. By the way, I bought something else for him in the Children's World.

I pulled a box with two nipples out of the bag and chose a yellow pacifier, put it in Sasha's mouth. The boy was taken aback for a second from my impudence and immediately pulled the nipple out, ready to protest loudly.

- Immediately took in the mouth nipple! - I ordered, slapping Sasha on the pope, - Yeah, like that. And without my permission not to take out! Only to ask for a pot.

Saying goodbye to Natasha, I took Sasha by the hand and we went home. I tried to go with a serious look, although it was so funny to watch myself as all the passersby turned on us. No wonder - an eight-year-old boy in high-stretched tights with the same t-shirt tucked into them. Not to mention the nipple in the mouth.

We entered the subway and I spotted the time, wondering when a diuretic would begin to act on the boy. The first signs appeared somewhere in half an hour: squirming, crossing legs and tense-frightened face.

- Why can't you sit? - I asked with a smile, - Do you want a little?

The boy blushed and shook his head. I kept furtively watching Sasha, wondering how much he could endure until he described himself.

Having reached the final station, we went up the escalator. Seeing Sasha shifting from one foot to the other, I decided to ask the boy again if he wanted a little.

- Get out in those bushes ... Read more →