In my senior year of high school, I had a stupid accident. I was running track and field and my specialty was the steepchase. So I was always running around practicing, jumping over fences and shrubs when I missed my footing one day and crashed into someone's garden fence. A shard of old wooden fence speared me in the taint, and the doctor told me I was damn lucky it didn't rip my balls off. When I jumped, I landed face first and instinctively brought my hands up to protect myself. My face was ok, but I had badly scraped up my hands.
I left the hospital with my hands and forearms bandaged. I was also wearing what looked like a diaper that secured a pad that absorbed the pus from my stitched wound. The doctor told me and my mother that I had to clean and change the dressings twice a day.
My mom was not thrilled. She looked older than her 36 years. She worked at Walmart at a crap job, ever since my dad left us a couple years ago. She worked a 10 hour shift and then liked to go for beers with her friends from work. I pretty much took care of myself. She had no time for dating. She preferred to hang around her friends and bitch about men, bastards, assholes who dumped their wives and left them with kids.
So that first morning after my accident, I struggled to change my dressings but I couldn't with my bandaged hands that were actually bound up to my elbows. I couldn't reach my diaper and pull the nasty wad of bandages there. I reluctantly called my mom for help. My older sister, Callie, screamed from her room for me to shut up.
My mom was getting ready for work, sitting in the kitchen having coffee and her first drag of her vape when she heard me yell for her. She marched into my room and saw me flailing with my arms in the air. I think that was the first time I saw her smile in a long time. She went to the bathroom and returned with wet hand towels.
"Cmere," she ordered me to scoot over to the side of my twin bed so she could sit down. She curtly pulled down my sheets and then slid my boxers down. I went beet red with embarrassment but she said nothing at first, pushing my legs apart so she could see the nasty bandages and padding which needed to be changed beneath my balls.
"Well, you've bigger." She finally said. We both laughed as she reached for my balls and gently pushed them aside. She had a pair of kitchen scissors which she used to cut away the old bandage which held the padding in place. Her one hand held the scissors, the other held aside my balls. I looked down at the ridiculous sight, my mother's soft hands, and to my horror, I started to get hard. I watched my dick twitch first, and I tried to will myself to stay soft, but it was as if my mother was noticing the movement. She cupped my balls to move them out of her way. "When was the last time I saw your wiener? Maybe you were 8 years old?"
"You need a shower!" She said, "All I smell is ball sack." She smiled. "Wouldn't expect your mom to say that, would you?"
I shook my head wordlessly and then closed my eyes as my rude little dick committed itself to embarrassing me. It began to swell and grow, erecting in front of my mother who said nothing as she wiped the wound and continued to work on my bandages.
"Sorry," I whispered.
"It's natural, son." She leaned in for a closer look at the wound but I shrank back because I thought she was looking at my hardon. Then, as if to show me all was ok, all was fine, she cupped my balls back until her hand also encircled the base of my boner. I gasped at her firm hold but said nothing as she continued to work on the wound with her other hand.
"You're definitely larger than your father." She finally looked at me and smiled. I made an attempt at smiling back but it was sooooo weird having my mother hold me by the balls and the base of my erection. She waved my boner as if she wanted a better look from different angles. "You're shaped just like your dad, though. Big curved one." Did it feel like she was purposely squeezing the base of my dick, plumping me up?
Suddenly my sister, Callie, popped her head in, "What's up, guys? OH MY GOD!" She shrieked and danced away from the door. Then she returned, "MOM! What are you doing!?"
"I'm cleaning your brother's bandages. Don't be so silly. You might have to help out some time!"
Callie laughed, said, ew, and gross, and ran back to her room.
Mom finally finished with the bandages down there. She then worked on my hands which thankfully did not require her holding my dick, though I remained hard as she finished with me.
"I've got to get to work!" she declared. Then, she kissed me on the forehead (something she hadn't done in years), tapped my pain killers on my nightstand, and left.
I popped a couple pills and fell asleep.
When I work up, I wasn't sure of the time. It took me a couple blinks to realize it was almost 7pm, I was starving, and I was still in bed, lying my sweat-damp sheets.
I heard the door - my mom was back from work. She walked into my room and sniffed the air. "Geezus, you're stinky. You've been asleep all day?"
I nodded. I blearily got up out of bed and went to the bathroom for a long piss. I stumbled back into my room where my mom had already changed my sheets.
"Lay back," she commanded, "I'm going to give you a sponge bath."
"Mom, no, i'm fine."
"Just lie back. Do you want your filth to infect your wounds?"
Reluctantly, I fell back into bed. But I did not expect my mom to immediately pull my t-shirt and then my shorts off. I closed my eyes as she started scrubbing me with a towel and bucket, listening to her mutter that I was a lot bigger than the last time she gave me a bath. After I was sponged clean, she got out the bandages, parted my thighs and was back to cupping my balls and changing the taint padding.
I quietly laughed at myself as I firmed up again. This time, she had a laugh in her voice too as she said, "There's my baby boy!" She readjusted her grip to hold my balls and the base of my erection again.
"How are you and Ashley getting along?" she asked.
