Chapter 1: The First Assignment

Big brother Roman had a day-long acting seminar to attend, and couldn't bring Sheamus along, so he hired Miss Paige to look after him. Sheamus understood why he couldn't tag along, but he couldn't imagine why Roman thought he needed a babysitter. He was a big boy. But, he loved and admired the big guy more than anything, and Sheamus would never question anything he decided. So, he shot a few baskets in the driveway with Roman, and promised to be a good boy for Miss Paige. Big brother gave him a big bear hug, and left.

Sheamus decided to wait outside for Miss Paige, even though it was already hot and humid, and it wasn't yet nine o'clock, the time his babysitter was due to arrive. He shot baskets by himself, and remembered to stay hydrated, having a bottle of water and a Powerade. The latter always made him quirky, and he was just about to head around behind the garage for a quick potty break when Miss Paige strolled up the driveway, looking pretty, but disheveled, as if she might have been up all night partying. "Good morning, Sheamus." Her voice was tired, but cheerful.

"Top o' the morning to ye, Miss Paige." Sheamus made his Irish eyes smile.

"Have you had breakfast? I've not; I've not even had my coffee," Miss Paige declared dramatically.

"We've got a pot on in the house. Big brother made it this morning. I can make you an egg sandwich, too! Come on inside!" Sheamus tugged eagerly at her hand, and Miss Paige followed him inside.

In the kitchen, Sheamus proudly served Miss Paige coffee with milk and an egg sandwich from the machine. He drank a big cup of coffee, too. He'd forgotten he needed to go potty until he went to rinse the dishes before loading them in the dishwasher. The running water made him need to go potty very badly, and he had to hop from foot to foot while he completed the task. Miss Paige didn't notice; she was busy with her phone.

Sheamus was too shy to interrupt her. Instead, he sat back down in the breakfast nook. Subtly, he tried to adjust the waistbands of his gray pants and black basketball shorts to make himself more comfortable. Both still felt terribly tight against his bladder. He had no problem telling the big guy when he needed to go potty (as he often did on pub nights), but he was shy around new people. Although he knew Miss Paige from work, this was the first time she was playing his stereotypical British nanny.

Sheamus held on until he couldn't stand it anymore. Desperation forced him to ask for permission to be excused, but he still stumbled and fumbled with shyness and embarrassment until he weed a little in his pants and had to hold himself to keep the rest in. "Miss Paige? May I please be excused, Ma'am, please?"

Miss Paige looked up from her phone and Sheamus blushed fifty shades of red, unable to stop squirming. Miss Paige chuckled a little. "Of course you may be excused, Shay."

"Thank you, Ma'am." Sheamus hurried down the hall as fast as he could, but before he'd made it to the restroom, his poor bladder had had enough. A big gush of wee escaped, soaking his pants and cascading through his shorts to splash on the floor. He tried to stop, but could only slow the gush to a steady stream. He ran the rest of the way, leaving a wet trail in his wake. Another huge gush escaped just as he got in the restroom door, then another. He couldn't stop weeing! He yanked down his shorts, but his pants clung tight because there wasn't a dry spot left on them. He didn't have time to struggle with getting them down, so he just sat down on the toilet and kept weeing them. He felt very naughty. He thought he'd never stop weeing, but he did, of course.

Guilt set in. He'd had an accident, a big one. Before he could think about how to tell Miss Paige, she was already there in the doorway, hands on hips. He couldn't look at her face.

"Sheamus! You naughty boy! You've gone and weed everywhere and made a big mess!" She scolded. She sounded just like the nannies in the videos he watched sometimes.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am." Sheamus looked down at what he'd done. "I couldn't make it to the restroom, Ma'am."

"Clearly not," Miss Paige said, coolly. "Well, off with those wet pants and into the shower with you!" Now her tone was almost the same as the big guy's when he comforted Sheamus after an accident; cheerful-like. "I'll bring you fresh clothes, then you can help me clean up your mess. Goodness, Shay, if you needed to wee so bad, why didn't you go to the loo earlier?"

Sheamus couldn't answer that, and Miss Paige didn't wait for an answer. Maybe it was a rhetorical question. After she'd gone, closing the door behind her, Sheamus stood up and lowered his little gray pants. He discovered there was a dry area, the back of the waistband. His mickey had been a little hard during his accident, but Miss Paige's arrival made it go away; his mickey was just as shy around new people as he was.

Sheamus showered and wrapped a towel around his hips. He put the wet clothes in the shower and began rinsing them. There was a knock at the door. Miss Paige.

"Shay, are you decent?"

"Yes, Ma'am," Sheamus replied.

Miss Paige came in, carefully stepping around the wee. In her arms were fresh clothes, but all he saw was what was on top. A pull-up. "It seems as though you're not yet ready for your big boy pants." She handed him the clothes and diaper. It was the same thing big brother sometimes said when handing Sheamus a pull-up.

So, he replied politely, "I guess not, Ma'am."

"Put on your nappy and your clothes and get to work cleaning this loo. The mop and bucket are out in the hall. I've already mopped up the hall for you."

"Thank you, Ma'am."

"Next time, don't wait so long. I'll be down in the game room. Roman told me you're quite the pool player. After you're done, come join me, we'll play best two out of three."

Sheamus smiled. When Miss Paige left, he stepped into the pull-up. They had been specially-ordered for him by big brother, featured a cartoon version of young Anakin Skywalker from The Phantom Menace. The big guy thought they were "cute, but not absorbent enough"; this he'd remarked to Sheamus after waking up in a wet spot because the pull-up had leaked.

Sheamus pulled on the rest of his clothes, khaki cargo shorts, and a blue and white striped American Eagle polo. He cleaned up the restroom (what the big guy called it), or loo (what Miss Paige called it), really well, and put the mop and bucket away. He rinsed out his pants and shorts and hung them over the shower door handle, like big brother usually did for him. Sometimes, with Roman, he would leave his wet pants on, because they would play. Mostly on pub nights, when big brother limited Sheamus' access to the restroom, and Sheamus had recently noticed, his own.

But, no such fun with Miss Paige, though he was having fun with her, it was in a different way. Sheamus adored the game room, and billiards, he could beat the big guy half the time, and when they played doubles as a team, they were undefeated. He hurried downstairs where Miss Paige had already racked up the balls on the table, and selected a cue from the rack of many. Not the pink and black one girls usually picked, but a simple varnished wood number, probably decades older than both of them.

She was behind the wet bar, pulling out a can of pop from the fridge. "Do you want a pop, Shay?"

"Yes, please, Ma'am."

"Mountain Dew okay? You don't seem to have anything else."

"Dew's fine, Ma'am." Sheamus got the tall glasses, and added ice. He found the straws while Miss Paige added the pop.

"Thank you, you're quite helpful and polite," she praised, and smiled. "Not like some of the bloody brats I have to deal with sometimes."

Sheamus giggled. "Pains in your arse, eh?"

Miss Paige laughed, then lightly scolded him for his language. She handed him his glass. "Do you want to break?"

"Are you sure you want to give me control of the table, Ma'am? I can run it."

"Well, you've got to have control of something. Let's see you give it a go. All you boys talk so big." Miss Paige removed her cue from the table and took a seat on one of the bar stools near the table.

Sheamus rubbed chalk on his cue; black and silver, embellished with shamrocks for luck. He placed the cue ball, and did his deadly break. Two solids went in, and he proceeded to run the table, straight down to the eight.

"Well done, Shay!" Miss Paige patted him on the back. "I hope I can do the same."

Sheamus racked up the balls as Miss Paige considered the table. Then, he sat down to drink his soda and watch her play. She was good. She sunk four balls before finding herself without another shot, except to make things more difficult for her opponent. But Sheamus managed to put down three of his own balls, stripes this time, before turning the table back over to his babysitter and opponent. She considered each shot carefully before calling it, and before Sheamus knew it, she was saying "Eight, corner pocket", and she'd defeated him.

She was a graceful winner, and he was a graceful loser. He offered her a refill of Dew, which she declined. He refilled his while she racked the balls. He wondered if he could run the table again; he'd done it before, while practicing, at pubs, and at parties. He was a very keen player, unless he'd had too much to drink.

No such thing as drinking too much pop, and he was able to repeat his trick. Miss Paige was delighted, Sheamus proud.

"Did Roman ever get around to having a loo put in down here?" Miss Paige asked.

"No Ma'am. Just got the area walled off so far. You'll have to use the one upstairs, or the one out in the pool house."

"I'll go upstairs. I have to see how well you cleaned up, anyhow." Miss Paige headed upstairs.

Sheamus tended to the used glasses. Again, the running water reminded him he needed to go potty; there was too such as thing as drinking too much pop. He held himself, and hurried out the patio doors towards the pool house gate. It was locked. He wasn't sure if he could make it all the way to the restroom upstairs in the house, so he decided to go potty in the bushes. It felt amazingly awesome to do that; he was a bad boy. Sometimes he and big brother went potty in the yard, but never in the bushes by the pool house gate; the area was in clear view of the house.

And, Miss Paige had seen him, khakis down around his ankles, pull up down around his thighs. She didn't look mad, so he played it off by being cute.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am. I was trying to get to the pool house, but the gate was locked, and I had to wee so badly I just had to go right there."

"You drank way too much pop, Shay."

Sheamus nodded, and looked down at his feet.

"Is your nappy still dry?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Let me check."

Sheamus undid his shorts, and let them drop. He pulled up the front of his shirt. "When I wet, the stars around Ani go away," he explained.

"And he's still got all his stars!" Miss Paige declared. "Good boy, Shay. I hope you can continue to stay dry."

"I'll do my best, Ma'am."

"Good. Now how about a little lunch?"

Sheamus was all for that. Like any other little boy, his body clock was set on noon for lunch. He helped Miss Paige prepare a nice, hot-day lunch: a salad of mixed greens, avocado, chopped hard-boiled eggs, and chunks of grilled chicken breast tossed with a mild dressing; and for dessert, red jello with Dream Whip on top.

Miss Paige had set four bottles of water at his place in the dining nook, and Sheamus wondered if he should drink them all, or if she would make him drink them all.

She had apparently read his thoughts. "You need to flush out all that caffeine, love."

"Shall I drink them all, Ma'am?"

"Just as much as you can. More is better, though."

During lunch, Sheamus drank all four bottles of water, and after lunch, he immediately asked to be excused. Miss Paige gave him permission right away. Sometimes big brother made him wait.

After the dishes were dealt with, Miss Paige announced it was nap time, and told Sheamus to go pick out a book. He chose "Where the Wild Things Are" and climbed under his Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles sheets wearing only his pull up, hugging his stuffed puppy, Clover. Miss Paige settled on the edge of the bed to read.

Not long into the story, Sheamus began to wiggle and squirm. He needed to go potty yet again, and couldn't get comfortable. Miss Paige stopped reading. "Do you need to visit the loo again?"

Sheamus blushed. "Yes, Ma'am," he admitted.

"Well, go, hurry up! Don't wee in your nappy!"

"I won't, Ma'am!" Sheamus hurried to the toilet. When he came back, Miss Paige picked up the story right where she'd left off. Long before the story was over, Sheamus was asleep.

He awoke from his nap with a heavy, swollen, pull up. It had leaked, too, of course, even if they were marketed to adults, they clearly weren't made for bladders of his size. He was laying in a puddle made possible by his mattress protector. He wasn't surprised he'd wet the bed; he'd had so much to drink that morning and at lunch. And, he'd been having a dream he was weeing, which usually meant he really was weeing, in his sleep.

As always when he woke up wet, his mickey was hard and poking out of the waistband of his sopping pull up. He still needed to wee, but he felt he needed to make squirties first. He knew it wouldn't take long, Miss Paige wouldn't catch him. Four or five quick pulls on his mickey, and Sheamus made squirties all over the turtle crew in a convulsion, whimpering helplessly in the back of his throat.

As he lay there recovering, his bursting bladder on temporary shut down, there was a knock at the door. Quickly, Sheamus pulled the sheets back over himself and feigned waking up just as Miss Paige came in.

"Shay! You naughty boy! You were supposed to keep your nappy dry. Just look at you! You're not dry, and you've gone and weed your bed, too!" She scolded. "You shall wash those sheets and hang them out in the yard."

Sheamus was squirming. His need to go potty had again become very urgent. He was already soaked and laying in a puddle. It was so hard to not wet the bed again.

"Do you still need to wee?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Take off your wet nappy before you go to the loo. And take a shower, too."

Sheamus struggled to get the pull up down, and hold himself at the same time. Wee squirted from his mickey, and joined the puddle in the bed. He had to hold himself to stop. "I'm not going to make it, Ma'am!" He rocked back and forth on the edge of the bed, trying to regain any level of control.

"Here, quick, use your potty." Miss Paige retrieved it from the corner, and placed it in front of him.

Sheamus quickly slid to the floor just as his bladder exploded. Kneeling, he filled his green potty, feeling the swelling in his tummy recede.

"My, you really did need a wee! Good job using your potty this time, rather than in your bed."

Sheamus made a proud face at the almost-full potty. "Thank you, Ma'am. I'll clean up my mess and hang my sheets like you said to."

"Good boy. Roman called when you were asleep. He's on his way back."

That made Sheamus even happier. He'd had a fun day with Miss Paige, but there was no one better than the big guy.