An Old Problem – Chapter Nine
As we entered the hotel mum collected a package from reception. The same girl was there and she looked over and smiled. Well, I wasn’t sure if it was a smile or a smirk but then I remembered she’d seen the pack of Abenas as we booked in, perhaps that was what she was reacting to. What I didn’t discover until we got back to the room was that mum had had the stuff I’d ruined on the journey here cleaned and I was getting back freshly laundered shorts and shirt. I wondered if mum had let slip to our receptionist the reason for the need to be cleaned… or she might simply have put two and two together to get an answer.
“Thought you might be fed up with wearing the same thing… and you do look smart in these.”
She unwrapped and hung them over the closet door. They’d even pressed a crease down the short’s legs, which I thought a bit unnecessary. I noticed mum hadn’t got my underpants cleaned but could hardly blame her for that, it was unlikely, as things stood, I’d be wearing them again anytime soon.
However, in the bathroom the hotel had left a small bottle of lavender bath gel for our convenience. It was amusingly called Sheep Dip Bubble Bath and assumed it was cheap stuff. So I emptied the entire amount in, planning a fun bubble encounter.
The efficient bath quickly filled as did the mountain of bubbles the gel had produced. I read the instructions and it did have a little grading on the bottle to show how much should be used per bath. There were five grades, for five baths, and I’d used the lot in one go. This was going to be extreme bubble-bathing but I’m eighteen, so felt up to the challenge.
I stripped out of my flimsy swimming trunks and threw them into the sink, then gently dipped an exploratory toe in to test the heat. It seemed perfect so I stepped in – such a rookie mistake. The floor of the bath was still covered in gel and I slid the full-length landing with a huge splash on my back, banging my elbow and dispersing water and suds everywhere.
“Owwww.” I squealed as the pain shot up my arm. I felt stupid.
This was no cheap bubble bath but top quality that the hotel obviously prided itself on. The bathroom was covered in what should have been in the tub but I was stunned by the speed at which I’d ended up flat out in the bottom of the bath. Also a handicap was my now throbbing elbow, which made gripping difficult, and the bath’s high-quality white gloss acrylic finish was so slippery I was having trouble getting myself out again.
(Any sit-com would have been proud of such a scene)
Mum came in to see what the commotion was all about and looked, with undisguised horror at the chaos I’d just caused. She quickly picked up several towels and began the mop up, whilst I still struggled to get myself sitting up in what water remained.
I sat with bubbles surrounding my body, in my hair and halfway up the walls. I gripped my elbow trying not to be a big baby because I’d knocked it but it did hurt. Mum was busy trying her best to stem any water from escaping from the tiled bathroom and into the carpeted sleeping area… she was doing fantastic work. As I tried once again to get out of the slippery bath, and failing, I started, despite the injured elbow, to giggle at the stupid situation I’d got myself in and saw a fantastic grin split mum’s face.
“You’re bloody hopeless at times.” She beamed. “I can’t trust you to take a bath without making a mess.” Then she knelt down beside the bath and grabbed a lovely thick flannel the hotel also provided. “OK mister, arms up and because my little soldier is wounded…” I was gripping my sore arm so I doubt she could be more caring? “I’ll get you all sparkling.”
We giggled like two naughty kids.
So, I threw my hands in the air and with all the love and consideration she’d give to a new born, gave the most gentle rub down possible. I think the amount of lavender fragrance in the atmosphere made me relax more than usual and I enjoyed something I’d not experienced for quite a number of years. I felt pampered, loved and absolutely wonderful… like the times when as a kid mummy kissed everything better and gently bathed away the hurt of a scuffed knee or bumped head.
#
Afterward she finished I soaked in the bath for a little while and, bless her, mum tidied around and mopped up the remaining puddles. I don’t want you thinking mum often bathes me because that isn’t the case. Having said that, she is in charge of my nappy changes and, because over the years she always has, when I needed protection she’s simply got on with fixing it.
Of course I’ve attempted to put a nappy on myself but the results have been quite pathetic (although I can manage pull-ups with flair) so if it’s fabric, and mum thinks they are better for the environment, she, as I say just gets on with it. I think she thinks that she knows what needs to be done so there’s no point in hanging around discussing it, or thinking about it… do it and then it’s done. Mum is usually that practical, after all, that’s how I ended up wearing nappies in the first place.
Just before I got out of the bath I looked down and saw I was peeing. A little pale yellow streak had flattened some of the white bubbles. The thing was it didn’t feel like I was responsible for it. My bladder was emptying without any effort on my part. Although this had been happening now since the previous weekend, this was the first time I’d witnessed it and it scared me. I wasn’t responsible for my own piss.
With some effort I managed to escape the bath’s slippery clutches, wrapped a dressing gown around me and made my way to where the beds were. Mum was talking on her phone to dad and I just wanted to flop down on the bed, which had the disposable, plastic pants and associated cream and powder laid out.
Rather than wait to be told I simply shuffled onto the spread-out nappy and taped it on myself. Mum watched as she continued to talk to dad but stopped me finishing the job by realigning my bum and pulling the tabs tighter for a much better fit. She passed me the plastic pants which I stepped into and then, once she saw I was safe from any leakage, gave the phone and dad all her attention.
She appeared to know that I could leak at any moment and not be aware I was doing so. This was a precaution before I put on any further clothes as it was a little early to get ready for dinner. I lay out on the bed and switched on the TV, there was some athletics on so I watched that. The shiny, purple mound together with the soft cushion under my bum was very reassuring and I felt safe that should I leak again, all would be enclosed. It was comforting to remember that over the years nappies had often come to my rescue in similar ways. I felt sleepy, probably due to the abundance of lavender I’d inhaled, and fell asleep thinking how any incontinent athlete wearing such tight lycra shorts would have trouble hiding their padding.
#
Mum woke me up with her hand down the front of my plastic pants checking I was still dry.
“Still dry sweetie.” She enthused. “Time to get ready, it’s still quite nice out so we can just saunter along the cliff top, through the woods and down to the restaurant in our own time.”
I was surprised I’d slept for so long but rather relieved I’d woken up dry. I thought it proved I didn’t wet every time I dozed. Then I remembered that actually, I’d been peeing whilst wide awake so nothing should to be taken as proof of anything.
I put on the blue shorts and nicely pressed shirt and looked in the mirror. I did look pretty good and there was only the slightest bulge should anyone be looking. It’s amazing how the shorts I wore seemed to hide the padding so much better than trousers. Anyway, the weather was still fine and warm and I felt quite sprightly as we set off along the cliffs towards the restaurant.
“Did dad have anything special to say?”
“I was chatting about him about having a word with Doctor Ames and making an appointment seeing as they’re in the same office block.”
“Is everyone OK?” I stupidly asked because I should have guessed it was about me.
“I want you to speak to a specialist.”
“You mean a psychiatrist.”
“Yes, you saw Laura back when you were seven…”
“Well she won’t remember me from then.”
“Maybe, but we know her and, more importantly, she knows you, so that’s good.”
Dr Laura Ames was a Child Psychologist when I first went to her. I assumed she’d progressed over the years to be a proper Clinical Psychologist since then if mum wanted me to see her again.
“I think you’ve got to agree that this time your spasmodic wetting, especially when you’re unaware you’re doing so, is different than when it’s happened in the past.”
It was a lovely walk along the cliff in the opposite direction to where we walked before. I wasn’t sure I wanted to talk about seeing a doctor but we were doing that now so had no option. Besides, mum was right it was getting more often than I’d experienced with these events in the past.
Involuntary, I rubbed the bulge under my shorts, the action made me wonder if I was anxiously checking I still felt secure even though the conversation was making me a little nervous.
“You stopped wetting just a couple of days after you saw her last time,” mum continued, “but… as I’ve mentioned before, your father and I think that the lightning strike you witnessed has had an affected on a different level. We need to get to the bottom of it sweetie… for your own sake. I’m sure you don’t want to be wearing a nappy for the rest of your life.”
Mum’s assessment made me think and I felt that shiver run up my back with the unfortunate result I spurted pee into my disposable (and for no reason at all that taste of orange was in my mouth). I couldn’t tell mum what had happened because she hadn’t brought the nappy bag with her and there’d be nowhere to change even if she had until we got to the restaurant. Anyway, I could feel the little stream being soaked up pretty efficiently by the special properties of the disposable and just hoped that if it expanded a lot my shorts could cope.
“When did he say he’d speak with her?”
“First thing tomorrow when he gets into work.”
“Oh well, I suppose it’s for the best.”
“Let’s hope so sweetheart,” and she patted my padded bottom in a gesture that was friendly but also making a point.
#
Once mum had got me on board with the doctor’s visit the subject changed and we chatted a little easier about TV, books, Jenny’s ‘development’, dad’s work and a host of silly stuff which continued throughout the meal. In the end mum did have the receptionist recommended crab ravioli, whilst I, being a free-thinker, indulged in The Plough ‘Special’ of scampi, chips, mushy peas and tartar sauce. The food was excellent, cooked to perfection and well worth the twenty-five minute walk to get there.
We did have a moment when the waitress asked mum if I wanted the child’s portion of scampi. I saw mum’s expression change as she knew in the past I’d reacted badly to this type of situation. The innocent waitress was still smiling and looking from me to mum waiting for an answer. I wriggled in my seat and actually heard the soft crinkle of my plastic pants and decided I was in no position to have a go.
“Mummy,” I said in my most juvenile voice, “can I pwease have the big boy scampi.”
The waitress’s look changed to one of horror when she realised I was not a child but taking the piss.
“Oh, I’m so sorry… I… I… erm… can I get you any drinks first…?”
“I’m sorry love,” I apologised, “You aren’t the first person to believe I’m a kid but I was just having fun. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.” Which of course was precisely why I did say it.
“No, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t assume…” She apologised as best she could.
“No harm done,” I continued, “but if you want to add extra chips that would be OK for me.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” With smiles she took our order and brought our drinks in double quick time.
Mum just looked at me. “I think all that was a bit unnecessary,” she scolded, “that poor girl.”
“I’m sure we can make it up with the tip.”
Mum nodded and we changed the subject to what we thought of Trinny and her boyfriend. I didn’t mention exactly what I’d dreamt about earlier whilst lying out in the sun. I think that’s best kept to myself because it was both horny and unsettling.
#
Although the night was still young and the weather fine we decided to get a taxi back to the hotel as we’d both eaten so much we thought might not make the return trip along the cliffs.
The driver was a very nice Eastern European man who informed us that a thunderstorm was coming. Mum looked at her phone and checked the weather but it didn’t mention anything. However, he was sure his prediction was correct because he could ‘read the sky’ and tell the few tiny visible clouds would soon to be joined by others.
As we sat in the back of the cab I could feel my disposable filling up and it was already sodden so I just hoped it would hold until we got back to our room. We searched the sky to see if we could determine if anything was approaching but everything looked fine.
When we got back to the room it was still early so mum said that after a quick change she fancied sitting out in the garden with a nice glass of wine; hoping to take in the final hours of our trip together, whilst watching the ships out at sea. This sounded wonderful so, she hurriedly whipped off my shorts, plastic pants a very soggy disposable and with equal speed (not that mum was desperate for a glass of wine you understand) slipped me confidently into a fresh nappy, found the thicker than usual pair of white rubber pants and returned my shorts.
“I think you should be safe if a storm does come… although… I can’t see that happening myself.” She shrugged.
“Well,” I smiled patting the thick slippery rubber, “these seem like they could take on anything the weather wants to throw at us. Have you been keeping these for a special occasion?”
“No, no, just in amongst a few item I brought to be on the safe side… and… should we have a storm… well you’re prepared aren’t you?”
I smiled because I felt well and truly gripped and… safe.
“OK, you ready for a drink?”
“Come on… let’s hope we can get a nice sea-view.” I slipped on my hoodie as we headed down to the garden.
“I should think so… most of the guest will have gone home today so I suspect there will only be a few of us left.”
#
The sun was just about set when we found a table and mum suggested we share a bottle of sauvignon blanc but I preferred a Tango. There were a couple of boats that we could see going in opposite directions and we spent a bit of time guessing where we thought their destination might be, which then became where we’d like to go on holiday and what we’d need if we were stranded on a desert island. Mum wanted a hair drier and I wanted a knife.
Our desires for the finer things eventually got ridiculous so changed the criteria to which famous person we wanted to be marooned with. This became a minefield of whether we fancied someone or not… mum shouldn’t have had that second glass of wine she was sharing too much.
It was all very silly and the time just seemed to shoot by when we decided to go to bed.
It was just after 11.30 when mum kissed me night-night but I it was still quite warm so I settled for sleeping on top of the covers and wearing just a t-shirt and my thick padding.
It was 2am when mum shook me awake and I was at the window watching the storm pass over our hotel. Lightning flashed and the thunder crashed around us but it was mum that woke me up not the noise. According to her I’d been glued to the window for about twenty minutes making little whimpering noises and she suspected, filling my nappy.
I was soaked as usual but didn’t remember watching the storm at all, although now I could hear it as it trundled out to sea.
“Oh, mum, ermmm, have I, um, been….”
I was a bit lost for words because I wasn’t really aware of what was going on except I could see the distant flashes and hear far off rumbling.
Mum saw my confusion.
“Like last time, I woke up to see you at the window watching but definitely not aware of where you were. You seemed transfixed and I could tell, even in the dark, you were wetting your nappy.”
She patted the soggy material.
“Mmmm very wet sweetheart… I think you’ve wet a few times but those rubber pants have prevented any leaks like I hoped they would.”
“Did you know?”
“No love, it was just that, well, after the taxi driver seemed so sure I thought it best to be on the safe side. Just as well really huh?”
“So, you’ve been watching what I did… and… did I do anything strange?” I was a bit perplexed but wondered what I’d been up to.
“When I woke up you were already at the window. You were sucking your thumb,” she shrugged as if she had no idea why, nor did I, “and making a strange little crying noise.”
“How did you know I was peeing?”
“I can tell sweetheart. I’m your mum and there’s very little I don’t recognise from odd grimaces to happy giggles to strained grunts… I know each of my kid’s little ways.”
I looked back out the window to the horizon but the sky was mostly stars… it did look pretty but the sea had blended with the sky to be only blackness.
“Well, I suppose I better get back into bed.” I yawned.
“Do you want me to change you first?” Mum was patting the soggy bulk.
“I think it might be for the best… do we still have any left?”
“Just a couple and you’ll need one for tomorrow but… well… let’s get you out of this.”
She went to the closet and pulled out the now much smaller Abena package, dug out a dry one and gave it a shake to give it some volume.
“Actually, there are… three… four left… do you want to double for tonight?”
“No thanks I should be OK… but,” I said running my hand over the slippery surface, “these rubber pants seemed to work pretty well so I better have them again if they aren’t too damp.”
“Well, I’d rather give them a rinse through and have them available for tomorrow just in case we get caught in traffic. I’d prefer to put you in one of the other pairs…”
I yawned again and let mum get on with it and thankfully I was clean and in a fresh nappy in just a few minutes. She’d also found a pair of see-thru plastic pants to hold it all in, so now there was a definite crinkle when I moved.
“There, let’s hope that’ll hold until morning. Night-night love, hope you sleep well.”
“Night mum, sorry for waking you.” She kissed my forehead and we both returned to our beds.
“No worries sweetheart but let’s try and get you sorted hmmm?”
I lay there wondering how that could happen. How I appeared not to know what I was doing when a storm came. The fact that I was wetting all the time and have little or no control over it was more than frustrating. However, I was calmed as I settled under the covers, heard the confidence building crinkle and felt thankful that the bulk of my nappy would keep me from any huge catastrophe. Abena M4s were really very comfy to sleep in.
The End of An Old Problem – Chapter Nine.
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