This story is going to go in a MDLB direction, but more by vibe and not actual ageplay. It is set in the universe of Endless Sky ( https://endless-sky.github.io/ ) some decades before the start of the game. May be a little rough, I’m pretty bad at editing. Also the diaper content may take a little while for me to get to, FYI.
Also, Endless Sky is awesome, and free. If you like space games, I recommend it. Just be careful as it’s a little addictive.
Note to mods: I’m not sure I got the tags right, feel free to correct. Protagonist is a male who’ll be subbing to an older female w/o ageplay. thanks
That had been the last fight Hank James would ever have with his mother. He couldn’t quite get a handle on his feelings… he was a cacophonous mix of angry and sad and relieved. She’d never seemed to understand that carrying on the family store was her idea, not his. And any time he’d ever strayed from the straight and narrow, she’d come down on him like a ton of bricks.
But that was now a thing of the past. When he remembered that, the sadness and relief came to the fore. His shoulders relaxed a little as he walked. No more getting yelled at. No more ball of stress in his gut at the thought of going home. He had friends in the neighborhood that he’d miss. But they couldn’t help with his mother, nothing would. This was his only option.
As Hank passed a store window, he stopped for a moment to take in his reflection. He was a pretty scrawny kid, always had been. His brown hair was short and parted like it had been most of his life, and even to him, his eyes looked anxious. He wore the cotton button down shirt that he’d worn to go out shopping before his fight with his mother. A backpack hung from his shoulders, carrying a couple changes of clothes and his personal computer, just the things he’d stopped to grab after deciding to leave. His black pants were cotton too… all his pants were dark, a habit born of necessity.
He looked up once again. The immense buildings that were the New Port of Zug towered above. He was almost there.
The ground shook at the approach of a megafreighter on landing approach. Hank looked up and saw the Syndicate Bulk Freighter lumbering towards one of the big landing pads. Just another day at the New Port. Ships coming and going with no thought for the people below and their problems. But hopefully, he thought, someone up ahead would have a solution for his. A job, or a working berth. Anything to get off planet and beyond the reach of his mother.
The businesses he was passing had become less suburban sprawl and more… spacer focused. There was a strip joint in his hometown, Hank knew. But he’d passed three in the last five minutes walking. Arcades and bars were mixed in with equipment stores. Some of the equipment he recognized… computers and clothes and the like. But there were things that looked like ship fittings and he didn’t know anything about them.
Starship crew were growing thicker as Hank walked as well. They all looked very comfortable in the port… much more so than he felt. He could tell from the occasional double-take that he stood out like a sore thumb. But he couldn’t help that.
With a familiarly sudden urgency, he realized that he needed a bathroom. Badly. He began looking around him, hoping for some sort of public bathroom, but he couldn’t see anything. His foot started tapping, and he started bouncing. In his sudden need, he looked at the building he had been passing. From the volume of the music, it was a bar… not his first choice for a bathroom, but it would have to do.
He opened the door and stepped in. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dim lighting. As they adjusted, he saw that a number of the patrons were watching him. Some with curiosity, some with amusement. He tried to stay calm and hide how badly he needed to pee as he walked to the bar.
The bartender, a lady who didn’t look much older than Hank himself, was discussing the tap list with a rather imposing man who didn’t seem very happy about it.
“-- was the whole reason I came here anyway. If you’re out of the Bantam porter, then I guess I’ll just have to settle for…” he paused to consider.
Hank noticed that he was bouncing again and his legs were trying to cross. He decided to interrupt.
“Excuse me, but do you have a, um, restroom I could use?”
“Listen, you little brat, a man is talking, and I’m going to finish my order,” the man said.
“I’m sorry, I just really need to–”
“Shut up and let me order!” the man yelled. He turned to Hank and started to wind up to backhand him.
Hank tried to back away but caught his foot in a barstool and fell back on his ass. He tried to scramble away but froze as he saw the man go for a laser pistol. Hank had never been in a fight, and had heard all kinds of stories about how dangerous spacers were. He couldn’t think, all he could see was the pistol starting to lift from its holster. He’d never been so scared.
“Jeremy Blain! The boy’s not a threat!” a woman’s voice yelled from behind the man. Hank couldn’t see the woman who’d spoken. The man, Jeremy, started. His hand fell away from the gun and he started to turn around. Halfway around, he staggered as he ran into a monumental slap.
“You and your stupid macho man temper! You’re always starting fights over nothing!” yelled a brown-haired woman. She was a full head shorter than Jeremy, but it was obvious that she was more than a match for him. She glared for a moment, then, more calmly but just as firmly, said, “Jeremy, you asked why I don’t want you around anymore. It’s shit like this. I was going to give you one more chance, but this is it. You don’t have a hold on that damn ego, and I’m done trying to keep it in check myself.”
“Sarah, wait–” Jeremy began. Hank watched carefully from the floor as Jeremy deflated visibly.
“No, Jeremy. I’m through with you. You’re out of chances, but I’ll give you one last choice: you can leave this bar under your own power or I can kick your ass and chuck you through the door myself,” she said, steel in her voice and ice in her eyes. Somehow, Hank didn’t doubt that she could do exactly that, and it was clear that Jeremy felt the same way.
Jeremy looked around the bar. Hank followed his eyes, and saw the same thing: the bar was clearly on the side of the woman. No one wanted to cross her, and no one was going to help Jeremy. Jeremy slumped. He spared one brief glare for Hank, then slouched off toward the door. The only sound in the bar was the music.
Once the door closed behind Jeremy, Hank realized he’d been holding his breath, and let it out with a sigh of relief. Sarah looked at him, and he couldn’t quite read her expression. He knew he should say something, thank her for her help, but he was tongue-tied looking at her. She was a beautiful woman, with hard brown eyes and short, dark brown hair. She had a small smile on her full lips. She turned to the bartender.
“I’d ask you to let this one use the bathroom, but it looks like that ship has already launched,” she said, with clear amusement in her voice. The lady behind the bar glanced at Hank and then chuckled.
It took Hank a moment to understand what Sarah had meant, then he looked down at the floor where he’d landed and saw a puddle. His hand shot to his crotch and he flushed as he felt the soaked fabric of his pants. A laugh went around the bar, and he flushed darker. The whole bar knew he’d gotten so scared he’d peed his pants, and there was nothing he could do about it.
“Come on, kid. Get up,” Sarah said to him, offering him a hand. Hank hesitated a moment, then took the hand and stood up. Her grip was firm and she easily supported his weight. As he straightened he realized he was actually a bit taller than the woman, but somehow it didn’t seem that way when he looked her in the eye.
“I–… Thank you,” he managed as he released her hand.
“No problem, kid,” she replied. She paused a moment, looking Hank in the eyes with an appraising glance. Her eyes then flicked down to the straps of his backpack, on down to his sodden pants and down to his well worn shoes before returning to his eyes. She turned to the bartender. “I think it’s time to close my tab, Amelia,” she said, sliding over a credit chit.
“Of course, Captain,” replied the bartender. Hank looked at Sarah anew, realizing that this woman was a ship captain, with all the wealth and power that implied. Here he was hoping to earn a berth on a starship, and he’d gone and wet his pants in front of a woman who might actually have one.
She snorted in amusement. “Never know who you’ll meet at a spaceport, kid,” she said. “Come with me, I can tell you’ve got a story. Least I can do is listen to it… owe you that much for reminding me what a jackass Jeremy is.”
Thanks for reading. Comments welcome.