An Old Problem – Chapter Seventeen
For the past few weeks Britain had been experiencing a rather wonderful spell of superb warm weather. Of course there had been sporadic storms here and there (with my current problem as a result) but by and large, it had been perfect for most people. Despite the equally sporadic and unplanned incontinence I simply got on with my life as normal. I’d had this problem on and off for a while now so this new bout of wetting didn’t stop me doing anything.
Because I loved the freedom they offered (and the lovely weather), I wore shorts to work as well as at home, as much as I could. Nappies were now my constant underwear and the staff in the office continued their helpful changes when needed. That was the unfortunate thing… I still hadn’t regained control over my bladder so unexpected warm flushes around my crotch were becoming increasingly common.
As mentioned, I cannot tell you how much my family mean to me. The way they are; the love, patience and understanding are not what everyone experiences, especially if you have my complications. I also have to offer my appreciation for the incredible way my colleagues at work have rallied round and offered their unconditional support. All of this makes me realise just what a lucky boy I’ve been.
In spite of everything; my memory lapses, the strange other glitches to my bodily functions, I didn’t hate the situation I’ve found myself in. Although in the past I’d be over the incontinence by now, the thick nappies were offering comfort and security, which I found not in the least bit annoying.
However, it seemed I was reappraising my situation and the forthcoming appointment with the doctor didn’t scare me as much as before. This time, I was more prepared and had a lot I wanted to say and hopefully find answers to some of my questions/problems.
On my last visit we left it at the point of why my brain wasn’t sending the correct signals to my bladder… I think my ‘problems’ had escalated considerably since then, although that particular one still continued.
#
At 6pm exactly with a huge friendly smile Dr Laura Ames invited me into her office.
“Ah Anthony, great to see you again, glad you could make it. How are you?”
In truth, and despite my readiness to ask questions, I’d been a bit anxious all day. In fact, so bad had it got that I’d needed my nappy changed three times at work and could feel the dampness rising again. The problem was, throughout the day, mum’s prediction of a storm front coming our way had been threatening since early morning and now I could hear distant rumbling.
Although I preferred to wear shorts, today I’d worn my new long green trousers (the ones I’d bought at the Outlet), which didn’t hide the padding half as well. Unfortunately, dad had not so subtly suggested that the doctor needed to see an eighteen year-old and not a school boy. He’d been gentle with his recommendation but as usual, I did as suggested and wore what he thought more appropriate.
It hadn’t occurred to me until he mentioned it that I did feel a lot younger when wearing shorts and although I often bemoaned the fact of being treated as a kid, at times I actually liked the response. Stupid I know but blame dad cos he set me off. So, this means I have even more to discuss with the doctor now.
#
The session started with small talk and she asked me about any developments. As I answered her questions the room was getting ominously darker as the storm clouds gathered and I began to wonder if it was all in my imagination or actually happening.
In what appeared to be only moments the storm was crashing around us and the thunder drowned out my voice…
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That was all I remember until I was gently being shaken by Doctor Ames.
“Come on Anthony, wake up. Come on back… come on… ah… there you are.”
I opened my eyes and though disorientated, realised I was sucking on my thumb and was absolutely soaked. I lay out on the couch and tried to get my bearings wondering why the doctor was encouraging me to wake up.
Doctor Ames had a hold of my hand and was gently soothing my confusion. Once she thought I was compos mentis her smile grew bigger and she seemed relieved to have me back.
“Well Anthony, the last fifty minutes or so proved very interesting.”
Now I was awake and aware I suddenly felt guilty because I could feel my soaked nappy and hoped that I’d only wet it. I gave a tentative wiggle and inhaled deeply, neither of these actions, to my relief, indicated a messy nappy.
“I’m afraid that the storm has left its trademark effect and you are sodden. And, as your mum reported, you stood at the window throughout it mewling, sucking your thumb, filling your protection and appearing to be… totally disconnected from the moment.”
She wasn’t coating what she saw in psychobabble just telling me exactly how it was. So, now she’d witnessed my problem (or one of them) what was her solution?
“Firstly, do you need to go and change?” Her question was full of understanding and concern. “As you know from last time, I have some Tena pull-ups if they’d be OK?”
I hated wearing a soaked nappy for too long and, if what she’d said was true, then I’d been in this one for about an hour.
“I’ve called your mother and she’ll be here soon… so if you prefer to wait.”
I knew I’d used all my clean nappies at work and my backpack had a plastic bag full of wet ones so didn’t have any spare. Mum I knew would bring some fresh and more substantial nappies than the Tena so said I’d wait, if that was OK with her. She said that was fine.
I sat on the couch swamped by the squishy fabric and tried not to move. I was only grateful for the plastic pants which were holding back any chance of leakage but didn’t know for how long.
The fact that she’d witnessed what happened I thought would mean everything would be explained. However, I did wonder why she hadn’t intervened and pull me from my hypnotic stance or try to get me to do something else. Had she simply merely watched?
Meanwhile, as we waited for mum Doctor Ames told me that she’d tried my dad first, seeing as he was in the same building but unfortunately, he was at a meeting in another town so couldn’t come and pick me up. When mum heard about what had happened she insisted on coming and ‘sorting me out’, which I gather was what the doctor hoped as she wanted to talk to one or both my parents as well as me.
She asked what I thought about my co-workers gathering around and helping. I said that at first I was nervous and couldn’t believe what they were doing but I’m used to it now.
She nodded and wrote something down on her note pad then wondered if any other teenage boy with my ‘problem’ would have agreed to such an operation in his workplace. I had to agree that I doubted that would happen but I thought my team were special and I was lucky to have them.
She made further notes as I gushed about how grateful I was to be working in such an environment.
There was something about that question that made me think there was probably a different answer but it had passed me by. I know this (and excuse me if this sounds silly) but I felt a shiver run down my back and a sort of mental ‘ping’ go off in my head… you know like when your microwave meal is ready… but I ignored it. I even ignored the sudden spurt of pee as I added to the fullness of my already squishy padding.
We chatted about why I thought that way and, as I suddenly got the citrusy tang again, so mentioned about the taste of orange I was experiencing.
I wondered about the loss of time, which she’d witnessed and how thankful I was to be wearing a nappy to soak up my incontinence and jokingly added the fact that so far I hadn’t disgraced myself all over her office.
“You’ve come to rely on your nappies haven’t you?” She smiled her question.
I shrugged but she was correct. “When I witnessed the strike, and all this began… again… I left a huge puddle on my bedroom floor. I think that was more embarrassing then wearing a bit of padding…”
“But it’s not just a ‘bit of padding’ is it?” She interrupted. “You have to wear thick padding and vinyl pants all the time. Doesn’t that get… annoying?”
There was that ‘ping’ again but I didn’t get the reference.
I shrugged again because in reality it didn’t bother me… padding successfully stopped anyone else knowing I had a problem. Well, that was until the office now knew… but that was my own doing even though some had already suspected as much. But ‘no’ it was never annoying just a sartorial fact – I needed them.
She made further notes but I did notice a small recording devise on the table and wondered if she’d captured my ‘mewling’. I wondered what I sounded like but thought it sounded silly to ask to listen to myself in such a state.
Now she’d observed my storm reaction for herself I think it had given her a lot to digest. However, as I had so many other concerns I wanted to talk about put my soaked nappy to the back of my mind and tried to get everything else out as quickly as I could. Unexpectedly, I found it great to talk about the things that had happened and my thoughts surrounding them.
Once started I wondered why I’d been so anxious… this was turning out great. I was enjoying this ‘therapy thing’.
#
Just before seven o’clock mum bustled in carrying what I recognised as my nappy bag. She hugged and patted my bottom and then hugged Doctor Laura in a friendly greeting.
“Sorry you had to experience that… he does tend to pee a lot.” Was mum’s opening line to Laura.
“Well no harm done. I’m sure Anthony is keen to change out of…”
“Oh yes, yes off course… let’s sort you out shall we?”
I was pointed towards the bathroom I used the on the last appointment. Thankfully this time mum, now armed with her well provisioned bag, came to help me out.
“Does he always need assistance?” Doctor Ames queried.
“Ermmmm,” mum sounded wary, “We just find it quicker and easier if I’m there.”
Mum answered whilst escorting me in and closed the door.
“Have you had to leave Jenny alone?” I asked concerned once the door was shut.
Mum took a deep breath before answering as if she was thinking something over in her head.
“No sweetie, she’s at a friend’s doing a school project together.” She answered cheerily.
“Oh, sorry to drag you out in this weather.”
“The storm’s passed; it’s now quite fresh outside, which is a bonus…”
We kept up this small talk all the way through the operation and in the end I was surprised to see she’d fluffed out a large colourful disposable, not unlike the one Deidre had me wear.
“Mum, where did you get this?” I asked in surprise but I’m sure my obvious pleasure was, well, obvious.
“Never you mind. I took on board the fact that nappies might be fun so… here you are… a fun nappy… hope you like it”
To be honest I was surprised on two counts. One; the disposable had colourful little cartoon dinosaurs printed all over it. And secondly; how had she been able to find such a thing so quickly? However, neither of these points mattered as the crinkle, as she unfolded them and jigged them about to open them up and fluff them out, made me smile like a two year old getting a huge ice cream.
“You know… you had some vinyl pants as a baby like these… all bright colours and jolly…” Her voice trailed off as I think she realised it perhaps wasn’t a comparison best to be making.
There were many times when mum could be wise and unmovable but there were also times, like now, where she seemed innocent and vulnerable. Such openness always took me by surprise… though made me love her all the more.
Once it was taped in place she handed me a pair of shiny white plastic pants and a pair of shorts from amongst the stuff she’d brought. So whilst mum cleaned the place up, I slipped into them. I felt restored straight away but really didn’t want to hide the colourful print on the disposable with the plastic cover. Then again, thought I’d leave that discussion for another time.
#
We emerged to find Doctor Laura sitting waiting for us; obviously the session hadn’t finished just yet. However, the bulge under my shorts (and the soft rustling as I moved) was obvious so she knew I had substantial protection there. Still, I was glad to be wearing the new colourful disposable and pleased that the doctor didn’t know about its design. I suddenly wondered if she would think worse of me because of it.
“All OK now?” Doctor Laura beamed as we re-entered her office.
“Yes thanks.”
“Ahh shorts,” she nodded in their direction, “I remember you said you prefer them.”
I’m not sure if they met with her approval but I was certainly glad to be dry and wearing them.
“Yes,” I answered with a smile and smoothing down the slight bulge.
“And mum, does she like to see you wear them?”
“Mum’s a mum… she likes me in anything and everything. She’s always very encouraging whatever I wear.” I added nonchalantly.
I saw both women nodding but in different ways. The Doctor made a note.
“Now I’ve got you both together I hope you don’t mind if I get your take on each other.”
I saw mum visibly wince and I immediately thought this might not be a good idea but… we were here to sort things out and if the doctor thought it was something she needed then we should comply.
“Of course Laura,” mum said being as helpful as possible, “but we’ll have to make it quick because I have a fourteen year-old at home alone.”
I knew mum was lying because she’d just told me something different.
“Oh, from what you’ve told me about Jenny I’m sure she’ll be just fine.”
Doctor Laura didn’t miss much.
“What would you like to know?” Mum smiled her question.
“Well for starters… how often is Anthony put in nappies?”
#
It wasn’t an awkward question but I could see it had thrown mum a bit. Doctor Ames had already had my version of this question and I’d answered honestly yet mum seemed to be having a little difficulty actually remembering the whys, wherefores.
Where I could remember I chipped in and had nothing but praise for the way mum and my family supported me when I had these ‘bouts of incontinence’ (as the doctor called them).
Although I knew mum and Laura were ‘friends’ I was surprised at some of the questions she asked. I would have thought, considering she’d known her since I was seven, they’d have talked about some of these things between themselves in the past. She was drawing info from mum who I noticed was desperate for the session to be over.
Despite being free and uninhibited with my own answers I noticed mum avoiding some of hers. This I thought was most unlike her and wondered why she was being so evasive.
“Well thank you both,” Doctor Ames eventually ended the appointment with a flourish. “You’ve both been very helpful but, I would like to see you again sometime soon Anthony if you can manage it. In fact, shall we put it in the diary now?”
Oddly, despite all that anxiety with the storm, I’d enjoyed the session and hoped she had enough information to help, so I was keen to come back. I booked a session for same time the following Friday.
The ‘short’ conversation had lasted another hour so it was just before 8pm when we left the office. Mum was quiet and appeared to be in quite a rattled state as we drove home.
I, on the other hand, was pretty pleased with myself due to the fact I was wearing a thick, comfy and colourful kiddie style disposable… and still dry. The fun, colourful disposable had cheered me up. Although I wasn’t down, the fact I was wearing it had an effect but again had no idea why. I just had a permanent grin on my face and felt comfortable.
#
Mum had calmed down quite a bit once we were home and the rest of the family were there. We talked about the storm that had happened and again I said I didn’t remember anything about it but that the Doctor had observed it and found my reaction ‘interesting’.
We all wondered what that might mean but decided that no doubt psychiatrists liked their own veil of secrecy if it was something they didn’t understand.
We joked about it and wondered what effect it would have had on her but I said she didn’t seem in the least bit perturbed and didn’t do anything, as far as I knew, to stop it. As we talked about my soaked nappy I was going to mention the colourful disposable I was wearing but noticed that the smile on mum’s face was a little strained so changed the subject.
After the meal mum had busied herself doing the extra laundry (she had more than enough fabric nappies to wash and dry) and Jenny and I argued over what to watch on TV. Dad, as usual, was engrossed behind a pile of folders and papers, work never far away with him.
I hadn’t changed out of what I was wearing so was still in my sort of ‘school uniform’, which I suppose led to my sister telling me about a new lad in Year 8 at her school who looked just like me. I was a bit weary of where she was going, or what she’d say about a thirteen year-old who was my ‘spittin’ image’, but she said all the girls were going ‘bonkers’ over him. For some reason I took his popularity as my own and felt pretty good about myself.
#
When I did go to bed mum came up as usual to bring new supplies and check I was OK but it was my turn to ask what was troubling her.
“Oh nothing for you to worry about sweetie,” she dismissed my interest but I wasn’t having that.
“MUM,” I put on my sternest voice, “you can’t tell me that because I sat and watched you with Doctor Ames and you didn’t seem best pleased to say the least.”
She shrugged but I knew there was something.
“Look, I’ll be seeing her next Friday and I’ll ask her if you don’t tell me now.” I was adamant mum needed to tell me her worries like I told her mine.
She looked like she didn’t want to burden me with her problems but at last she spoke.
“Well love, it’s like this,” she swallowed and took a deep breath. “The way the questions were posed and my responses led me to believe that she thinks I’m responsible for your, erm, problem.”
I looked a bit stunned. Firstly, I didn’t get that impression from the questions I heard and secondly, how can mum be responsible for me wetting my pants?
“Are you sure?” Was all I came up with.
“No, not sure, just the impression I got aaannnddd…” she drew out the last word before answering, “if I’m honest… I did feel a little guilty about buying you those.” She pointed to my kiddie-style disposable.
“Why? I mean, why would you feel guilty? They feel nice to wear and…”
I saw the expression on mum’s face change and knew that was the point… they were pretty childish.
“She thinks that I like to see you wearing nappies and that I enable you to… oh… I don’t know… but I felt really ill at ease in her office.”
I thought about what she’d just said and although I didn’t get the same impression from Doctor Ames the fact that mum thought this was annoying because I believed mum had done, and continues to do, everything for my benefit.
“Mum, I have a problem which you and dad… and Jenny help me with. I’m sure that now the doctor has seen what happens and how I react when a storm comes she knows it’s nothing you do. And these,” I felt the soft thickness of my disposable, “are just fun… why should you feel guilty about wanting me to have fun… they still do the job they’re designed for…?”
“Ah sweetie you’re right, I’m probably reading too much into it because I always worry…”
“Mum, the wetting’s the problem not what I wear. My colleagues at work don’t think you’ve done anything wrong so why should the doc… I mean she’s seen me peeing myself, suck my thumb and make noises. She knows that the fact you put me in a thick nappy stopped me flooding her office. No, no, no… you’ve done all you can and I’m grateful to you…” Then I had a different thought. “Mum, do you feel guilty about me… at my age… you know… not being more of a man?”
She sighed and I thought we’d got to the crux of her feelings. Almost immediately I wished I’d not asked the question because I didn’t want the answer.
“Well sweetie I do feel responsible for the number of times, as Laura pointed out, I’ve resorted to putting you in nappies as a solution to any anxiety you may have had.”
I was standing now just wearing the disposable which unconsciously I was filling though mum hadn’t yet noticed. I had that weird shiver run through my body and once again had that tangy taste in my mouth.
“… I just wonder if it has somehow held you back in some way…”
I wasn’t sure what to say because I was being engulfed in a warming glow and my mind drifted off……….
The End of An Old Problem – Chapter Seventeen.
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