An Old Problem – Chapter Twenty-Two
I woke up as usual Saturday morning to a well soaked nappy. It would be the third change I’d had since I got home Friday night and despite Doctor Laura saying I had control – this just proved I hadn’t.
Last night when I got in I was feeling pretty raw. The psychiatric session had me confused because it had been quite emotional. However, I was having a hard job piecing together the exact events for it to make sense. I know I cried a lot and I know I drenched my nappy (thank heavens I hadn’t decided to wear briefs) but something else had happened during that meeting which I was unsure about. Did I cry out for my mummy?
Or worse, did I call Doctor Ames mummy?
After the session it took a few minutes to compose myself enough to catch the bus home. I didn’t change in her office but I wasn’t sure if she knew I’d wet or not. Anyway, the offer to change didn’t come up and had it, I think I would have said I was OK until I got home, which is what I did.
On the journey I kept thinking something happened, something happened but just couldn’t focus on what. Anyway, when I got in I went straight to my room, removed all my clothes and checked the sodden material between my legs. I knew it was bad and on a cursory inspection I could see that I’d had a very slight but embarrassing accident in the rear. Thankfully, it hadn’t been as explosive as others I’d had recently but still saw it as a warning.
I rushed to the loo, took a shower and pre-rinsed the messed in material like mum did. As I walked back to the room wrapped in a towel I just hoped this wasn’t a sign that things had suddenly deteriorated. I think I was feeling quite down at that moment and didn’t really know what to do.
My mind was full of something, unfortunately I couldn’t quite put my finger on what and that was bugging me.
Distractedly I entered my room and mum was waiting for me looking concerned.
“Are you alright sweetheart?”
I simply shrugged and dried myself a bit more, although in truth I was so pleased to see her.
“Things not gone too well this time?” She obviously knew from my demeanour something was up.
I shrugged again but noticed mum had laid out a fresh nappy like she used to.
“Look, I can tell you’re upset about… something (how did she know it was something?) and I don’t like seeing you like this so… let’s get you into a fresh one of these,” she said patting the soft fabric, “and then we can talk about it.”
I should have known mum would come through for me. Her understanding my confusion had made what had gone on over the last few days not count… my stress level immediately dropped to zero.
She pulled the towel away and told me to lie out.
“Oh sweetie,” she said taking a close look at my genital area, “you’re going to have to take more care… it looks like the start of a rash… this area is looking a bit sensitive.”
Mum cared and I couldn’t have been happier as she slavered on tons of cream and bathed me in a flurry of baby powder. The nappy was soft and thick and contained a booster pad but I was so grateful to feel the welcoming embrace of fabric and her loving touch, I happily put up with the bulk. Next came the purple plastic pants, which expanded to engulf the entire thing. Once she’d finished I sat and hugged her in complete gratitude.
“Sorry mum, I’ve really missed that… I know you’re trying to wean me off… but, you know, it’s…”
“I know love and I miss it too but…” and we both hugged each other again.
#
I didn’t really want to talk I was just happy to be in mum’s affectionate embrace; a nappy and a hug from mum what more could I want?
“Look, I’m going to pick up Mrs Symanski tomorrow, why don’t you come with me and we can talk on the journey… besides… I’ll need some moral support for the trip back.”
We giggled because we both knew just how trying that was going to be.
Even though I didn’t want to talk right then and there, I did think that perhaps between us we could sort some of the new questions and problems that filled my head.
I agreed to go with her and then we went downstairs to grab a bite to eat and watch some TV. For once dad wasn’t surrounded with papers but reading a golfing magazine, which gave a reasonable idea what he was going to be doing when we drove to the coast. Jenny was staying over at a friend’s house, so we watched some detective drama mum had got in to.
By ten I was almost falling asleep. In fact, I must have dozed for a few minutes because when I woke up realised I was soaked again. This time I didn’t mention it to mum because I wasn’t sure how dad would take it. So far, he hadn’t commented much on the results of my examination other than to express his sorrow that he and mum hadn’t picked up on it earlier. As always, he was supportive but I’m not sure how much mum had told him so didn’t go into any detail. Anyway, mum said we’d be setting off to the coast around ten but she’d get me up in time to have a nice big breakfast before we went.
#
Back in my room and I peeled myself out of the very wet padding, cleaned myself up but picked up one of the thicker, double-gusset fabric nappies and fitted that as best I could. Mentally I wasn’t in the best place to be taking any chances.
The laundry bin was quickly filling up so knew I had another job to do in the morning. There was a pair of thick clear plastic pants, which mum must have missed and had slipped behind the radiator. I used them to keep the reassuring fleecy fabric in place.
I was whacked but kept running my hand over the bulbous slippery surface thinking of how enjoyable the sensation was. My thoughts turned to when mum changed me and how, even in such a short space of time, I’d had missed that connection.
That was it… mum and me and my nappies… I drifted off thinking of this holy trinity.
#
I woke up before mum came in and could feel the full saturated material. I listened and there didn’t seem to be any movement in the bathroom yet so got up and waddled there to relieve myself of the saggy cargo and have a damn good clean out before the rest of the house stirred.
Once all that was done I headed back to my room and turned on my computer and checked what the weather would be like here and by the coast for the rest of the day. We were in luck, providing everyone else didn’t decide they’d like a day at the seaside, we had picked a nice day for the retrieval of Mrs Symanski.
We weren’t planning on staying over this time, just a quick pick-up and return so decided I could wear one of my cartoon disposables and a pair of clear plastic pants under green hiking shorts. Once the disposable was in place I looked in the mirror and smiled, yeah I looked like a little kid but I loved the feel of the thick plastic coating and soft but very absorbent stuffing, I was content.
I gathered up all my used nappies from the laundry bin and took them downstairs and set the washing going and then, on impulse, decided I’d make breakfast for us all. I looked at the clock and it was coming up to 8am and knew dad would want an early start for his game of golf. In fact, I could hear him in the bathroom so got the bacon, sausage, egg and beans ready. I fancied the idea of being in some kind of control… for once.
As I bent, lifted, moved around the kitchen, my nice (childish) disposable was caressing my bum and bits. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so aroused whilst making any meal, so this was a first. Mum wandered down in her dressing gown surprised to see me dressed and ready for our journey and well underway with breakfast. She offered to help but I poured an orange juice and indicated she should just sit down.
“I’ll do this…. you just relax and then, you can get ready after you’ve eaten.”
She rested her hands on my shoulders and thanked me for being so considerate and then patted my bum. I knew she was checking but I was OK with that and just gratified she let me carry on.
Dad arrived looking just like you’d expect, I have no idea why the clothing for such a sport is so weird and colourful, he’d never wear such a combination anywhere else… mind you I was in no position to bring up any clash of colour. The crispy bacon and scrambled egg were ready at the same time so as dad sat down, I was able to serve what for me, is always the best meal. I just love my big breakfasts.
#
Dad was off with a thanks, a kiss on the top of my head, a pat on my padding and the advice not to forget earphones to block out Mrs Symanski. Mum cheerfully admonished him for being disrespectful about our neighbour but he just shrugged and said “You’ve been warned”. Of course, I knew exactly what to expect. However, this journey was in support of mum rather than a trip to the seaside for our own benefit.
Just before 10am we were ready. Mum wore jeans and a colourful top I was in green shorts and a pale green and white striped jumper. I thought we both looked younger than we were… it seemed a weight had been lifted from mum as well as me.
For the first few miles we’d discussed the directions and where we hoped we’d miss any traffic build-ups. Thankfully, although the roads were busy it all appeared to be flowing well.
“OK, who’s going to start?” Mum asked the question.
There was a lull in conversation and that’s when she asked the question.
“I’ll start.” She said.
I looked nervously over to her but mercifully my nappy remained dry.
“Did you know,” she queried in a voice that was filled with tease and humour… and about to reveal something I didn’t know, “when you were a bit younger, and we occasionally put you back into nappies, it was Mrs Symanski who supported such action?”
I looked at her in astonishment. “What do you mean… supported such action?”
“Well, you were about six and suddenly started wetting the bed again but we didn’t know why. Both you father and I worried that putting you back in nappies, although would solve the problem, we worried you might get upset… you being six and all.”
“But I thought, ermm…” Mum interrupted my train of thought.
“Well, I was chatting to Mrs Symanski one day and the topic came up… as it does.” She smiled trying excuse herself for spilling a family secret.
“She was so positive.”
I already knew the old lady, and I’m sure other people in the neighbourhood also knew, but I hadn’t expected her to be the one to support my need for protection.
She said that no matter at what age, if a boy needs a ‘pieluszka’, Polish for nappy, he should wear one… it’s a sensible precaution to take.
I looked at mum even more astonished, Mrs Symanski said that… our Mrs Symanski… the grumpy old lady from…?
“Yes, that Mrs Symanski.” It was as if mum was reading my mind.
“Why?”
“No idea but she offered loads of advice. You might not remember but she was a godsend and very helpful… brought round useful bits and bats… even babysat occasionally… and adored you.”
I shivered in my seat trying to take it all in. I just couldn’t associate the two things Mrs Symanski and my nappies.
I mean, on the last trip hadn’t she gone off on one after I peed my pants. Actually, when I thought about it she hadn’t… it was me who was embarrassed… she simply said not to worry as it could happen to anyone.
#
We drove on in silence for a little while then mum got back to the subject she really wanted to talk about.
“You looked really sad last night when you got in and suspect the session hadn’t gone as you hoped.”
As usual she was right on the button.
I sighed. “Yer… I cried a bit… well… I cried a lot actually.”
“Why, what happened?” Her curiosity had been pricked.
It was difficult to explain, I hadn’t quite got it organised in my head except for the fact that I was getting anxious and suddenly she’d shouted at me.
“She shouted at you?” mum asked incredulously. “That doesn’t seem right.”
“Well, perhaps not shouted but commanded me to STOP.” And I slammed the palms of my hand down onto bare legs just above my knees to emphasise the point. (A stupid thing to do because it hurt but I didn’t want to change the subject so had to put up with stinging legs)
“Why did she do that?”
“Well she’d asked me so many questions I was beginning to get quite anxious – telling me I was in control; that I chose to wet. I, I, I could feel my bladder about to give way… and she shouted STOP.”
“Stop what?”
“I wasn’t sure but whatever was about to fill my nappy decided against it and my bladder tightened up.”
“Good heavens… what a thing…”
“Not only that… I felt scared and wanted to leave.”
“Did she try and stop you?”
I shrugged “No I didn’t feel I could.”
“Were you hypnotised or something?” She asked hesitantly.
“No, well I don’t think so but I felt I couldn’t leave without permission and… she hadn’t said I could.”
“Oh dear, that all sounds very dramatic.”
“Yes, I suppose it was and I burst into tears.” Mum just looked and nodded as I thought about that scene. I felt stupid and ashamed of my actions and wondered what mum made of such a display.
“What did Doctor Ames do?”
“She held my hand.” I shrugged again because I really was having trouble putting these events in some semblance of order that made sense to me. “Just like you would” I mumbled.
“What happened then?”
“I filled my nappy.”
#
At this admission I got a bit embarrassed. I know, stupid. I’ve been wetting myself over many years and in various circumstances, yet can’t remember the last time I felt this self-conscious over a soaked nappy.
We drove on in silence; I think mum knew I needed time to compose myself.
We turned off the main road and started down through the little villages, which led to where our passenger lived, including the one where I’d been changed on our last visit.
As we passed the car park where the deed had been executed mum cheekily asked if I needed the use of its facilities. I could see she was kidding and it did help me get back to feeling less awkward.
Now the veil I’d drawn had been lifted mum proffered an idea.
“Why do you think she shouted at you to STOP?” She actually raised her voice exactly like the psychiatrist had done.
“Erm, errr, I don’t know but it was a shock.”
“I wonder if that was the idea.” She deliberated. “I mean, she must have done it for a reason and, as she’d said you were in control, perhaps it was her way of showing you just that?”
“But I wasn’t… I’ve never been…”
“Didn’t you say you were at a high anxiety level and felt you were about to burst into your padding?”
“Yes, but I didn’t.”
“Exactly,” she said with some air of satisfaction.
“Exactly what?” I looked even more confused.
“You DIDN’T wet.”
“No, I was too shocked.”
“Precisely, don’t you see what see did?” Mum’s face was lit up like she’d just solved the riddle of the Sphinx.
I still had no idea but mum was very mobile in her seat excited that she might be on to something… the very something that eluded me.
#
“OK, are you going to tell me what’s made you so animated?” We were approaching the last bit of the journey that led to Mrs Symanski’s sister’s cottage.
“I think she was distracting you.”
“Why would she do that?”
“Well, think about it. She wanted to see if you were in control so she gave you another stimulus just as you were about to pee your pants right?”
“Right.”
“But you didn’t pee your pants did you? Instead, you were distracted by something else so perhaps that might be a solution, or at least a chance of a solution, to your wetting.”
I was left wondering if mum had gone do-lally though she was sure she was on to something. Meanwhile, I tried to get to grips with what she’d just announced… I wasn’t having much luck.
“Maybe,” she announced as we neared the cottage, “as Doctor Mandip said, your brain has made new pathways and connections since the accident and the lightning strike just exacerbated those links … or maybe forced new ones on you.” She nodded hoping I was taking in her logic. “And maybe, what needs to happen is a different stimulus coming in as you are about to wet to challenge that pathway… mmm?”
She looked at me to confirm she was on the right track but I wasn’t too sure.
“I think that’s what Laura plans to do… make new pathways… introduce different motivations…”
#
The conversation came to an end as we pulled up outside the cottage. It all looked so peaceful as we left the car and tapped on the door.
It took a couple of moments for it to be answered and it was her sister who greeted us.
“Come in, come in… can I get you a drink or something to eat?”
“Thank you Zofia, that would be nice… it’s such a hot day.”
“Lena… your chariot has arrived.” Zofia shouted down the hall. “She’s just finishing packing… why she brought so much I do not know… anyway…” She guided us out to the rear garden.
The view was stunning you could see for miles. There was an uninterrupted view over fields to the cliffs and beyond to the sea.
Mum and I just looked at each other… why would you want to leave this place, it was beautiful.
We sat at a table with four chairs a large green umbrella shading the entire thing and settled to enjoy the view.
Sofia arrived with a tray of St Clements (orange and bitter lemon), a refreshing drink I’ve always associated with summer, but who could deny it was appropriate for the entire scene.
“This is a beautiful place you have here Zofia, absolutely wonderful.” Mum enthused.
“Thank you. My husband was brought up in this part of the country and we bought this place from an old couple over forty years ago. When he died the cottage was just full of him and his memories so, despite offers, large offers from people wanting to buy this place, I couldn’t leave.”
Just then Mrs Symanski came out to join us.
You could tell they were sisters because they looked and dressed almost identical. There was a no-nonsense air about them both although age may have taken its toll, they weren’t about to give up any independence.
“Ah Lena, I’ve just been saying to Mary and Anthony about the offers I’ve had on this place.”
“Yes, two whilst I’ve been here. Bold as brass, come up, knocked on the door and asked if the place was for sale. Cheeky beggers.” She sort of harrumphed. “Is there a bleeding sign? I’d ask them and when they looked shy and embarrassed I slammed the door in their face.”
We laughed but the two women were sort of slightly riled up by these occasional intrusions.
“Mind you,” Mrs Symanski said (I can’t bring myself to call her Lena that would seem very disrespectful) some of the offers have been humungous and I’ve told her to sell up and come and live with me.”
“I couldn’t live with you you old bat… you’d drive me up the wall in minutes.”
“That’s the type of response you get when you’re willing throw open your doors to the old and infirm…” Mrs Symanski’s chided her sister.
I wasn’t sure if this was their usual way of communication but I knew we were in for a long discussion if mum didn’t break up this line of chat.
As it was, another hour later and I hinted to mum I needed to go to the toilet but in fact, I needed a change as I’d already unknowingly wet myself whilst listen to these two’s lively bickering.
“Excuse me Zofia, can Anthony use your bathroom please?” Mum gently inserted herself into their conversation.
“Of course. Do you need a nappy change Anthony… there’s powder in there,” she pointed the way but I was shocked she’d brought up the subject, “through the door and first on the left.”
“If you need a hand Anthony don’t be too proud to ask for help.” Mrs Symanski added with a knowing nod.
“It’s OK ladies, he’s learning to do it himself.” Mum intervened passing her large shoulder bag, but it didn’t help with my embarrassment.
“Muuuummm.” It was that childish whine again, which I guess didn’t help with the old ladies opinion of me.
“Good for you Anthony,” Mrs Symanski added, “you shouldn’t be embarrassed around us. If a boy needs a nappy he should wear one and not have to worry about it.”
I could hear that conversation carry on as I disappeared into the bathroom.
#
The bathroom was spotless but smaller than I’d expected. Although tidy, there were bottles, powders, potions, ornaments, pot pouri, tissues and the overpowering smell of lavender.
I shrugged down my shorts and slid out of the plastic pants before releasing the soaked material. Although I’d got myself well-padded I’d forgotten that I had worn my cartoon disposable and as I rummaged around in mum’s bag there was only a large square of white fabric and a pair of rubber pants available.
This meant it was going to take me a bit longer than with a disposable and I was slightly cursing mum for not thinking ahead. Which I realised was stupid as mum had said it was all my responsibility now and I hadn’t brought anything.
Standing there naked I was still rooting around in the bottom of the bag for some pins when there was a knock on the door.
“Thank god,” I thought, “mum’s come to help.”
“Come in,” I whispered.
In walked Mrs Symanski.
“I thought you might be struggling in this small area love so I’ve come to give you a hand.” She looked at my nakedness. “I know your mum wants you to do it yourself but I know how difficult that can be.” She whispered conspiratorially.
“Erm, er thanks but I’m sure I can manage,” I stammered as I tried to cover my privates.
“Nonsense, we can have you ready in seconds if you just leave it to me.”
She didn’t wait for an answer. Simply took the pins I was holding in my hand and slipped them between her lips. Saw the white fleecy square of material sitting on the bath edge and had it folded in seconds. She then asked if I’d wiped myself clean yet.
I shook my head.
“Boys,” she tutted and ran a face-cloth under the warm tap.
As she did that I noticed my rather bedraggled looking cartoon disposable lying discarded next to the sink and quickly tried to retrieve it.
“They look fun.” She said hardly missing a beat. “I’ll get rid of that once we’re done.”
Although a bit embarrassed about the childish disposable I was still a bit stunned by the intrusion. However, I grasped that things were now out of my control (so much for Doctor Laura) so tried to relax and let her get on with it. To be honest, once I got over the shock, as with mum, it was nice to have someone else in charge.
“You’re a good boy Anthony so just relax and I’ll have you all freshly sorted in moments.”
I didn’t get any opportunity to say much but wondered if she would ever see me as more than the little lad she’d known for most of my life. Even as she gently held my penis and gave it a good wipe down, I just thought of myself as a little boy who needed his nappy changed and to let the adult get on with it.
I was cleaned, oiled and powdered in just a couple of minutes with a thick nappy and plastic pants in position as well.
“There,” she said satisfied, “that should last until you get home at least.” She left me to put on my shorts and disappeared off to another room with my soggy disposable neatly balled up.
When I reappeared things had moved on a pace as mum and Zofia were at the door and it looked like we were almost ready to leave.
“Go and help Mrs Symanski with her case dear.” Mum said pointing down the hall… as she took her bag back I don’t think she was aware that the old lady had just changed me. “It’s quite heavy so be careful.”
I remembered the size of her case but thankfully it was on wheels so wasn’t going to be too difficult to manoeuvre out to the car.
In her bedroom Mrs Symanski was putting a few bits and pieces in her large handbag and I took the opportunity to thank her for what she’d just done.
“My pleasure Anthony,” she smiled. “Don’t be in too much of a hurry to…”
She didn’t finish because Zofia came in and rebuked her for “wittering and boring the boy”. She nagged her toget a move on, whilst chiding her for keeping everyone waiting and besides… she was desperate to have her house back to herself.
Despite all this they hugged and I dragged the case out to the car and shoved it in the boot… it did seem heavier than when she came but perhaps I’d just got weaker over all that time.
I waited for them to finish their farewells. Mum was already politely waiting in the car, but this time I held the passenger door open for Mrs Symanski. Once on board I got in the back seat.
As I fastened the seat belt I couldn’t help but feel well protected. It had been OK doing the job myself but far better when someone else took charge. This crazy, but understanding, old Polish lady had fastened me in and I’d never felt more secure. My head was buzzing with how considerate she’d been and wondered, after all this time and with her kids gone, how she’d been able to keep up her nappy changing skill.
As we set off on our return journey Mrs Symanski turned to mum and with a grimace but a face that said otherwise.
“Thank God you came… another day and I’m sure we’d have killed each other.”
The drive home did not go as expected. Mrs Symanski didn’t regale us with a minute by minute account of what she’d done the entire time she was away, instead she told us something not even mum knew about.
The End of An Old Problem – Chapter Twenty-Two.
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