An Old Problem – Chapter Five
Mum and dad had both joined us out in the garden, the warm evening air enticing us away from the TV and promoting family time.
“Was a salad OK for everyone?” Mum queried.
“No probs.” Jenny
“Just fine love.” Dad
“I had a slice of garlic bread with mine so… it was great.” I added to the small talk.
Similar general chat went on – very relaxing, everyone happy and no drama. It was like a scene from a pretty boring British sit-com. Except later…
“Good, good. Erm… Mrs Symanski is going to stay with her sister on the coast next week… erm… anyone fancy a trip to the seaside at the weekend?”
Dad was quick on the uptake.
“I guess by that you mean you’ve volunteered us to take her?”
“Well, yes, but I thought it would be terrific if we all went and made a weekend of it… for a change… and a break from work… and a nice neighbourly thing to do.” Mum was trying to be altruistic but failing.
I think we all sort of shrugged. A couple of hours in the car with Mrs Symanski not something anyone would want… that woman could talk. However, mum suggested that once we dropped her off at her sisters then our time would be our own and, we’d stayed there in the past in a caravan and had a great time. Mind you, we were only kids then.
The upshot was – dad said he had to work Saturday, Jenny simply said she didn’t want to go as had things planned and I, well I couldn’t come up with an excuse I thought anyone would buy. So it seemed mum, me and Mrs Symanski would be driving to the coast.
Now that was settled mum went off to book accommodation for me and her, whilst Jenny read her magazine, dad snoozed and I unconsciously wet my nappy.
I sighed realising what I’d done because the warmth of my crotch was growing hotter than the heat of the pleasant evening… I also noticed that my hands and legs were shaking, which I’m sure wasn’t a good sign but tried to hide it.
#
I waited until mum got off the computer and confirmed she’d arranged our stay at a small hotel that had ‘popped up’ when she went online to find a place on the coast.
“It sounds really nice. It has an indoor pool, a bar and a lovely garden… 200 yards from the beach… so, quite a step up from a caravan… eh?”
I nodded and smiled, for a moment she’d taken my mind off what I’d come to talk to her about.
“It’ll be fun… providing the weather holds and the long range forecast said this should stay until the middle of next week.”
“Mmmm good but… why did you tell Mrs Dewhurst about my…?”
Her smile stayed but she knew I was irritated so pulled me in to talk seriously as she’d done ever since I was a kid… and I still felt like a little kid now.
“Oh sweetheart, she was the one who brought it up. Don’t forget you’d accepted one of her Tena AND,” she raised her eyebrows as if making a point, “she told me that you’d wet your pants twice in the office.”
Once again mum had taken the wind out of my sails as I was now on the defensive. I hadn’t known Mrs Dewhurst had seen my first wetting but I suppose she’d put one and one together after the second accident.
Mum was quickly in. “I came to check you were OK because I’d bought some new and hopefully, better fitting things for you and I was going to take you somewhere to change… make it more comfortable. But, then, Mrs Dewhurst called me into her office and we got chatting.” She looked me over and could tell I was fidgeting. “So, between us we came up with a solution which I hoped would help.”
“But she’s my boss,” I whined and my leg was shaking but just a little.
“More especially Anthony, she’s a mother who knows about the problem.”
“But, but,” This seemed to be the total of my argument these days as mum asked if I was wet now. I nodded.
It was a really good job mum insisted on me wearing nappies, otherwise I imagined there’d be a stream of pee following me around.
“C’mon then let’s get you changed.” She’d cleverly changed the direction of my annoyance to one where I was the one that needed attention.
Once again I thought I was in the middle of some kind of sit-com, it was just so bizarre.
#
That feeling of being a dumb kid returned as she led me up to my bedroom. But I kept thinking – why involve anyone else in my worries?
“Muuumm, I’m eighteen, it’s embarrassing…” my grumbling voice just wouldn’t stop.
She ignored my protest but added her own. “And you have yet to master putting on a nappy so…”
“But she’s my boss…” I mumbled more to myself than mum.
Once in my bedroom she didn’t waste any further time and yanked down my shorts.
“Ohh, where did you get these plastic pants from?”
“She said you’d brought them.”
“Ohh mmmm, see-thru but the front of the packet didn’t show them like that… you’ve got a couple more packets of them as I bought a few in the sale.” She did a double take and decided they were acceptable. “Still, they look like they’ve done their job and, if I’m honest being able to keep an eye on your wetting might be a good idea.” She joked… I think.
Mum was being both encouraging and practical – they weren’t what I was used to so I’d just have to make do.
“OK,” She pulled down the plastic pants and gave me a stern look. “They’ve done a good job because you’re soaked and nothing’s leaked. How long have you been like this?”
“Not long… around the time you talked about taking Mrs Symanski to her sister’s”
She smiled at the mound of soggy material in front of her.
“Mrs Dewhurst has a daughter doesn’t she?” I nodded. “That’s why she’s folded this nappy for a girl… not a boy… did it feel different?”
A girl not a boy, how many ways were there to fold a nappy?
Again I nodded.
“Did it feel OK?”
“Yes, it was a bit different but felt tight enough… and… she thought the see-thru plastic pants were sturdy and would hold it together firmly.”
I was making small talk about the nappy as mum slowly unpinned it and let the folds slide away revealing my damp crotch.
“Do you need to go to the loo?”
I shook my head; I think the last soaking had got rid of anything that had been in my bladder.
“What about number two’s?”
“Muummm.”
It’s difficult being angry with mum when she takes so much trouble over making me all clean and dry. I enjoy this special time with her.
#
Without further chat she set to work wiping the area and, as all the other trappings needed were nearby, I was cleaned, oiled and powdered in quick succession.
As I lay there naked apart from a t-shirt she dove under the bed and pulled out a large bag.
“These are what I bought this morning.”
I recognised the bags from those she’d been carrying into the office. I watched as she pulled out the contents. Several thick cotton squares and a couple of packets not unlike the one Mrs Dewhurst had to open. So I knew they were more plastic pants.
“Finest, robust vinyl for heavy wetters,” she read the info on the side of the packet. “AND three for the price of two… what an offer.” She added as if I should be pleased with her abilities to find a bargain. “Look, see, the image on the front is just the outline of plastic pants there’s no description of them being anything but plain.”
Well, I suppose that justified it all then. She then moved to her other purchases.
“Now these nappy squares are thicker and more absorbent than your others but so much softer… feel… they’re quite lovely.”
“Mum,” I pointed out, “you’ve just taken one off that Mrs Dewhurst put on me this afternoon.”
“Oh yes, well it was well soaked so I suppose they’re doing what they say. How many times have you wet today?”
“Erm, just the once.” I had to consider had I wet and not realised. “I think..?.” I wasn’t sure and judging by the look on mum’s face nor was she.
“Well,” mum then produced another bag with even more stuff in it. “These are for night time when you wet the most…” she was thinking, “well, we’ll see but, they have a thicker absorbent middle gusset so should hold even more…”
“Mum, why have you gone mad buying all this stuff, I mean I’ll be over it soon surely?”
“Look love, we’re not sure how long it will last this time. I’m hoping you’ll be as right as rain and back in your sweet tighty-whities soon but… the number of times you’ve wet since witnessing that lightning strike…”
She left me to contemplate what she was thinking.
#
The memory of that tree bursting into flame and that roar as the thunder rattled our house clouded my mind. I shook myself free of the image and responded.
“Ah, yes, but I was watching that storm coming for quite some time before the lightning hit the tree and I’d been OK…”
“Really?” Mum asked doubtfully. “Are you sure you were in control up until then?”
“Yes, erm,” Now I was hesitant and questioning just what had happened. “Yes I’m sure I, er, I, ummm…”
Actually, I wasn’t sure because an hour past and I wasn’t aware of all that time I’d spent at the window.
“Look darling… your father and I have been discussing your old problem and what’s happened since you had that scary experience. We think it’s affected you more than perhaps you realise, so… we’re verging on caution.”
I was shocked she should think this way but began to wonder myself. There had been an awfully big puddle by the time I’d grasped what was going on with my bladder. Perhaps the flash and the tree bursting into flame had merely brought on a sudden spurt that made me aware. But, why should mum doubt me?
“Why are you…?” I asked emotionally.
“Look sweetheart. We’ve dealt with this for quite some time and we’d all hoped you’d be over it by now but… it appears to us… and I think also to you if you’re honest… that something else is happening. We’re not quite sure what or why but in some ways your continued reactions are getting longer.”
I looked at mum as if she’d told me some terrible truth. What did she know that I didn’t or what did she think she knew that I didn’t. Now she had doubts and so did I. The thing was, I couldn’t be certain when I’d wet next because it was happening without my knowledge. Perhaps mum and dad were right to be cautious.
“We all hope for the best but, and I’m sorry if this sounds heartless, it isn’t meant to be, we have to prepare for the worst scenario and protecting you is the main thing… just in case this lasts.”
“But I feel OK, normal, I can still work, nothing’s changed…” I could tell I was gabbling the words just couldn’t come out quick enough.
“Yes, yes… and we want the same as you… normality… but you have to admit that wetting twice at work and here…” She gave me a look that said I wasn’t admitting to just how many times my pants had flooded. “It’s a precaution that’s all but… I think its nappies now full time until we see some improvement.”
#
I was shocked by all this and hadn’t taken in that mum had (even as we chatted) put me in a new, thick, double-gusseted nappy and pinned it on. She began to rip open one of the packets of new vinyl pants and three dropped onto the front of the fresh white material… these were purple.
“Mummm, I can’t…”
But mum just shrugged her shoulders as if it was of no consequence and inched one of the pairs up my legs.
I couldn’t fight her and I don’t suppose I really wanted to because a decision had been made and this was it – thicker nappies and coloured covers. I suddenly had the taste of orange in my mouth and I didn’t know why.
For some reason that ‘taste’ relaxed me but at eighteen and back in nappies at mum’s insistence, felt a bit strange. Whenever this had happened in the past I always knew the decisions made were in my best interest and imagined that must be the case now so arguing would be pointless. However, the new thick fabric was sending strange messages to my brain as I wriggled to see how manoeuvrable I was.
“Look, I know it’s early but you’re ready for bed now so you can come down and talk to me and your dad if you’ve any questions or stay up here and play on your computer… it’s up to you.”
The ‘improved’ nappy was huge but in truth didn’t feel at all bad as I moved around trying it out. Because I’ve had to wear them on and off for some time now, I actually didn’t mind having such thick fabric wrapped around my bits. It was snug and felt nice.
“You see,” mum observed, “nothing to worry about and you seem fine with it.”
“But look… purple.” I said as I stroked the slinky material. I wasn’t letting on but it had a very smooth and sensual touch to it.
“No one but us need to know… it’s not like you’re going to be showing everything off to your workmates now is it? The colour isn’t important, the fact they’ll keep everything tidy is what matters.”
I don’t think even as a kid I’d ever had plastic pants in this shade. Up until that moment they’d always been opaque whitish.
Quite unintentionally I found myself smiling as I ran my hands over the slippery vinyl cover. I suppose it was a nice change to get some colour ‘down there’ and they did feel particularly soft yet tough. I resigned myself to wearing nappies and this added protection for the foreseeable future. I’m sure somewhere in the world there are other eighteen year olds wearing something similar… or so I hoped.
Thankfully the slight shake in my legs had gone along with the wet nappy but I suddenly had a craving for chocolate – that ‘taste’ of orange filled my mouth again and I wondered if mum had bought a box of Roses for home.
Mum stacked the stuff in the wardrobe and left the room. I just stood there for a few minutes checking myself out in the mirror. The padding was large but not so gigantic that it looked stupid and I suppose the purple wasn’t too bad. If I was honest with myself, I think I did need the extra protection from now on – mum had convinced me of that. It also looked like she’d convinced my boss the same so now had two women looking out for my welfare.
#
Mum had got me thinking and so sat at the computer and typed in ‘thunder and nappies’ to see if there was any new research… or indeed anything to link the two – nothing. I tried a few different browsers but came up empty. There were tons of stuff on nappies/diapers (and the many ways to fold them) and loads of info about thunderstorms but the two together… zilch.
Eventually, having read a heap of info about nappies, and that there are people who like to wear them… and not just those who wet their pants like me, I got bored with coming up with no info on the two together. So, sensing the need for a bit of TV I slipped a pair of loose green satin boxer shorts over my bulge and set off downstairs. Things were tight and I’m not sure they hid much but I thought it would be better than wondering into the living room wearing only my latest protection. My eyes lit up when I saw the family gathered around and an open box of Roses on the coffee table.
“So, not just for Mrs Dewhurst then?” I nodded toward the box and smiled at mum.
“As if… everyone likes a choccy now and then… and I think we all deserve a treat.”
I wasn’t complaining and the orange creamy things were there. I dived in.
Mum was watching one of her soaps, dad was reading some notes from work and Jenny still had her nose stuck in her mobile but occasionally commented on someone on screen.
“She’s going out with him off that hospital series.”
“She’s not.” Mum joined in the conversation. “I thought she was going out with Malcolm from…”
“No, no they finished ages ago… it was in last week’s OK.”
“Ohh,” was mum’s interested response.
She knew if OK Magazine said so it must be true and never doubted Jenny’s far superior knowledge about who wore what, who was going out with who (or is that whom?) and which celeb was cheating on another.
“Yes and now she’s going out with that director,” Jenny was in her element, “they’re tipping her for the next Bond girl.”
“Good heavens – that’s a move from soap to film star isn’t it?” Mum loved this type of gossip I think it brought them close together because neither dad nor I were in the least bit interested. Well I pretended not to be but I took it all in.
#
Over the next hour or so the TV lost some of its usual charm as they reviewed the love history of the soap’s cast and between us we demolished the best part of three quarters of the chocs.
Mum saw the diminishing amount and slipped the lid on. “Better keep some for another day.”
Dad had fallen asleep and mum shook him awake and pointed to bed. “You look so tired love, why not have an early night and I’ll be up in a minute?”
Dad nodded, got up and kissed me and Jenny then made his way upstairs whilst mum did a bit of tidying up and then kissed us goodnight as well.
“Don’t stay up too late… school tomorrow Jenny…”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” We both waved mum off to bed.
“Anything special you want to watch?” I said pointing the remote at the TV.
“Not really bothered.” Jenny shrugged. “Any Family Guy on anywhere?” She mentioned as an afterthought.
I flitted through several channels before we did land on one of the many repeats.
“Oh, I’ve seen this one recently… how about Mock The Week… Dave usually has something funny on at this time.”
Dave is the channel we rely on for a good laugh, even an old, much repeated laugh, especially when the other channels are absolute crap. I pressed in the channel number and saw the credits rolling, we’d just missed one.
“I think I’ll have an early night as well… you coming?”
“Er before you go, erm, can I ask you something?” I was being afraid to ask my fourteen year old sister something I should have worked out for myself but needed her to confirm or deny it.
“If it’s about mixing shiny purple and shiny green I’d say go for it – a glittering, bold combination.” Grinning she seemed amused at her own observation.
Guiltily, I rubbed the front of my boxers which hadn’t hidden the bulge at all. In fact, all night, unnoticed by me, my purple vinyl pants could be seen drooping down the leg at times.
“Do you think I’m getting worse?” I asked timidly.
She put down her mag and looked over and surveyed me for a few moments before she answered.
“What do you think?” Typical of Jenny, she’s too clever not to find out first what answer I want her to give. If I wanted an answer then I’d have to answer her questions.
I fidgeted uneasily in the seat but glad that the thick padding was soft on my genitals.
“Well mum’s said that I need to wear protection 24/7 so that means to work and… well… that might be embarrassing…” I looked to her for some response but she wanted more. “And she’s now involved my boss Mrs Dewhurst, which I find very disconcerting.”
I saw her eyebrows rise at this news so that was something she wasn’t in on. She wanted more info on this fascinating little titbit.
“In what way is it disconcerting?”
I’d let the cat out of the bag now and if I didn’t tell her she’d simply ask mum so I had nothing to lose really.
“She’s left some stuff for her to change me if I wet at work.” I dropped my eyes to the floor I was quite ashamed.
“Well the question is… have you been wetting yourself at work?”
I reluctantly nodded.
“And mum has got your boss involved to the extent she’d prepared to change you?”
Again I nodded.
“Well, I’m not sure if it’s getting worse” and she pointed to my shiny bulge, “but you have a lovely pair of pants AND two women fussing over you… is that worse?” She had a huge smile on her face. “To me it sounds like you’ve hit the jackpot.”
I could almost hear the ‘studio audience’ laughing.
This wasn’t the way I expected the conversation to go or the direction I thought Jenny would take but she’d answered my question.
“Is that all?” She obviously didn’t think my predicament was all that significant to worry about.
I nodded
“Then I’m off to bed.” She came over and kissed my cheek. “Night-night bro you really are…”
She didn’t finish that last sentence so I was confused – should I be happy or sad. Suddenly a loud cheer went up on the TV as the comedian at Live at the Apollo introduced the first act.
Is this a sign?
The End of An Old Problem – Chapter Five.
If you want to read more stories about ABDL boys you can find a list here: Diaper Boys – Index
The story originally came from: https://www.dailydiapers.com/content/stories.html