An Old Problem – Chapter Ten
Checking out time was 11.00 and after a very nice cooked breakfast we were on our way home by 10.45. Of course I’d woken up absolutely saturated so after a ‘shit and shower’ mum slipped me into a fresh disposable plus those very ‘robust’ rubber pants and I was ready for whatever the day threw at us.
“We can take our time getting home and there’s that new Outlet Shopping Centre on the way so… how about us trying to find you some trousers for work?” Mum enthused but I also suspect she fancied the idea of a bit of retail therapy for herself.
“Sounds ok,” I wasn’t as keen but, as this summery weather wouldn’t last for ever, saw it as probably a good idea to try and find something other than shorts to cover my padding.
Despite it being well past rush hour the roads were quite busy, I suppose Monday mornings always are but it just surprised me a little. I think, not being a driver (never felt the need to learn) I just noticed the traffic more. Anyway, by noon we were pulling into a parking space in the ‘green’ parking section of the Centre which also looked busy. My heart sank a bit because it was a much larger structure than I’d envisaged and was hoping we’d be in and out in minutes. It didn’t look as if that was going to happen.
As we walked in one of the many entrances it proudly proclaimed ‘over 100 outlets, 6 screen cinema, 20 restaurants, children’s play area, etc, etc.’ this was definitely not my favourite way of spending a day off. However, mum wanted to see the lot and I just knew her credit card, and quite possibly mine, were going to get a bashing today and she was very eager to get started.
#
Three hours later we trundled back to the car laden with bags of stuff. I think mum had dragged us into just about every shop and had bought stuff for Jenny and dad as well as me and herself. I hated having to try things on but realised, because of padding, it was no doubt better for me to at least see if they fit before buying anything. I hated queuing for the changing rooms, especially when mum insisted I come out and display how it all looked.
She’d pat, grab and smooth items down as I uneasily paraded in front of her and she’d give me her opinion. Occasionally, other customers might be looking on and no doubt a few noticed I had some sort of padding. No one said anything but there were a few strange looks. Strangely enough, a lady around Mrs Symanski age, and oddly sounding like her, expressed her opinion that I was ‘a well-behaved and lovely little lad’. Mum smiled and nodded at the old lady but didn’t put her right. I was too gobsmacked to respond.
I tried on what felt like several hundred pairs of trousers in several different stores before she gave me the thumbs up. So, I bought two pairs, one in black the other in dark green. However, I did indulge myself because one of the Outdoor retailers dealing with walking, camping and promoting a healthy explorer lifestyle was having a sale and I bought a couple of very hardwearing camping shorts to add to my collection. They looked particularly sturdy with pockets and zips everywhere. I was quite pleased that I’d found a bargain and therefore it justified this horrendous shopping trip.
Then of course with my purchases done I had to wait whilst mum tried things on and that seemed to take forever. She seemed to know dad’s taste and style so would just grab clothes for him without a second thought but was more meticulous in what she found for Jenny.
Our last stop was a huge pharmacy though we didn’t spend too much time searching for stuff. It appeared mum had pre-ordered for us to collect (no wonder she spent so much time looking at her phone) and I only wished she’d done that with everything. Anyway, there were two extra-large packages for me to carry back to the car.
The boot was crammed to capacity so thank god we didn’t actually have Mrs Symanski because together, her and her suitcase would have made it impossible to fit everything in.
“So, what have you been buying?” I enquired as I squeezed the last package in as best I could.
“You said you liked the Abena disposables you’re wearing so I thought, as they’re cheaper here than anywhere else I’ve checked, we’d get a few in for emergencies.” She said matter-of-factly.
I just nodded but was really quite pleased and then for the first time since we’d arrived at this Retail Plaza wondered if I was still dry. I wasn’t, I was soaked through but the thick rubber pants had held me so tightly I wasn’t aware that the M4 had expanded.
“Mum, I’m wet.”
“Do you want to go back in and change in the washroom?”
“Actually, no, I think that’s enough of that place for the time being. Let’s get home and I’ll make do until then… I’m sure it will all hold.”
“If you’re sure… it’ll take us an hour, an hour and a quarter.” Mum shrugged and we set off.
Mum turned on Radio 5 to hear their discussion on current topics and I began to wonder just why mum was stocking up on more padding. There was something else mum had observed that I now began to zero in on. It was something I thought quite odd – why was I sucking my thumb and crying when a storm came? Then another bizarre thought struck me – why did I keep ‘tasting’ the orange chocolate crème?
Even though me and mum had a fantastic time over the last couple of days and discussed quite a lot, there were areas of my old problem that I was still quite vague about. I assume that’s why she wanted me to see Doctor Ames again, to get to the bottom of it. That journey home certainly gave me a lot to think about.
#
As we unloaded the boot mum split the packages and told me which to take up to my room… that included the two big packs from the pharmacy. Jenny met us at the door, she was still wearing her school uniform so might have just got in herself and thanked mum when handed a couple of bags from trendy stores.
She said that dad planned to be home for 6.30 and had already started preparing a meal for us all. That’s Jenny, never one to let the grass grow under her feet, she simply sees what needs to be done and gets on with it… much like mum.
By now my wet nappy was uncomfortable so wanted out of it as soon as I could. I rushed up to my room, laden with my purchases, and threw them on the bed thinking to sort them out later. Of course, either Jenny or dad had been keeping up with the washing and there already was a stack of clean fabric nappies piled up on the top of the chest of drawers… a smaller pile of coloured plastic pants were shoved on top of them. I hadn’t realised I’d needed so many changes before our weekend away. Thank heaven for the M4s and we weren’t bringing back any soiled nappies… I know I’d have used quite a few.
The wardrobe had mirrored sliding doors and I caught sight of myself and thought the blue shorts were not hiding my expanded padding at all well. I unzipped and let them fall to the floor revealing the shiny rubber pants that had swollen considerably so I must have wet more than once on the way home. However, I had to admire their glossy sturdiness because they did look pretty effective and quite racy.
Racy, erotic, stimulating? I don’t think I’d ever thought of nappy covers in that way before. I’d always been grateful to them for stopping any leaks and bolstering my confidence but perceiving them in this way made me stop and wonder – what am I thinking? There was suddenly a throbbing extra bulge under the soggy disposable that needed consideration.
Too late, mum came in at that point and said how cute I looked. It was the type of thing she often said after I’d been changed. I think, over the years, this was partly so I didn’t get a complex about having to wear protection and it had just become second nature. I’m not sure she meant a great deal by it.
“I have to say,” she said sliding her hands over the glassy rubber surface, “these do look a lot more durable than the plastic pants I bought in the sale. I’m glad I’ve invested in a couple more pairs for you.”
I thought about asking her ‘why’ but that would be silly as she would simply point out the super-soaked disposable I was wearing and know without asking that I had no idea I’d wet so often. I needed as much protection as I could get… well at least until I’d seen the doctor.
“Sweetheart, let’s get you out of this wet disposable and into a nice dry fabric nappy… oh… do you want some time on your own?” She asked seeing the small but unmistakable bulge, “I can come back later.”
Although I was embarrassed mum had seen it I can’t say it was the first time. Mum had been changing my nappies when needed throughout my eighteen years and she’d seen me in just about every state possible. My little dick wasn’t going to embarrass her and I desperately did want to just ignore it as I’d prefer to be into something dry.”
#
There was a large bath towel folded at the bottom of my bed which I spread out. Mum was checking the pile of clean nappies and deciding which to use, whilst at the same time grabbing pins and lotion she’d need. I pulled a box of wet wipes from the bed side table and then slowly dragged down the thick rubber pants. The disposable was in a terrible state, I’d worn it to such an extent that it had become crumpled and saggy making me look like I had a deformed extended crotch. Not a good sight.
By the time we’d pulled all the items together and I was laid out on the towel naked from the waist down, my awkward demanding dick had returned to its usual mouse-like state and mum could get on with the clean-up.
It felt strange to be back in a fabric nappy but it was welcome as mum shuffled a pair of see-thru plastic pants that had a loud crinkle when slipped into place.
“These are noisy.” I said running my hands over the glassy material.
“Are they, I hadn’t noticed,” she had a thought. “Maybe because the rubber pants were noiseless these appear noisy… just a thought.”
Mum might be right.
Anyway, she helped me up and as per usual patted the back of my slippery padding as I made my way over the chest of drawers to get a pair of shorts. I had a quick search and settled on a pair of pale blue Adidas but before I could clamber into them mum turned me round to face her.
“Thanks for this weekend Anthony… I really enjoyed spending this much time together.” She had a lovely grateful look on her face.
“Same here mum… it was great fun… if a little bit wetter than I’d hoped.”
Mum’s face changed to one of concern.
“Has any of that worried you too much?”
“Not really, it’s just, well, I know I need all this padding and when I’m wearing it I’m very grateful because I know it will stop any embarrassing displays on my part. I just wish, well, that I was over all this by now.”
“I know love… I’ve always been grateful myself that you’ve never let it get you down. But you know we are worried that witnessing that strike might have set you back but… you’ve coped with it remarkably well. However, kneeling up at the window and not being aware as you fill your nappies… is a departure from the norm so that’s why we want you to see Laura…erm… Doctor Ames.”
“I understand mum and I’m with you 100%… it would be nice to get to the bottom of all this. In the meantime,” I said opening up the shopping bags and taking out my new trousers. “I can hide the incriminating evidence under these for the near future anyway.”
I opened the wardrobe and hung everything up.
Mum beamed her support. “OK, let’s see what Jenny and your father have been up to.”
#
Dad had said he’d managed to get an appointment with Doctor Ames at 3.30 Friday afternoon and would that be convenient. I told him that I’d check when I got in to work but usually Mrs Dewhurst was OK with doctor’s appointments although that it also depended on how busy we were. The upshot was, Friday was OK and I could leave work early – no problem.
In fact, the following week was as nice as last week weather-wise but thankfully, our area of the UK had no thunderstorms. However, I was still wearing nappies to work and wetting them all the time but only had Mrs Dewhurst change me a couple of times. She seemed happy to do it, I think she missed doing it for some reason… perhaps her daughter had got control back and I’d become a sort of substitute.
She seemed really happy to see me back and I’d only had the one extra day off. I think she was more keen than I was to get me into a dry nappy and I was quite amazed at how organised she was. Despite that, she took her time and made each element of the operation just perfect; making sure the wet wipes weren’t too wet, the anti-rash cream was enough and not too much talcum powder. She arranged the nappy ‘just so’ and made sure I was comfortable and that it hugged me correctly before finally pinning me in. To be honest, it was a bit more attention than I expected or wanted but she did it with such affection it wasn’t something I felt able to complain about.
It became easier because Mrs Dewhurst was spearheading a new project for which Phil in our office was writing the programme, whilst I, and Debby in the London office, were doing the online tactical and response work; finding any gremlins, faults, offering feed-back and other uses for the finished programme. Mrs Dewhurst was coordinating firewalls and the security element and looking to other areas of the company where her latest creation would be of benefit. It meant that we spent quite a bit of time working together both in her office and out in the main area.
With the summer days still being pretty hot I was wearing my new ‘Outlet’ inspired purchase of lightweight but weather protective shorts I’d bought from the outdoor store. It said they were not only 100% nylon but had a water-repellent coating of the fabric, which they proudly proclaimed – allows the wearer to avoid the effects of rain during outdoor events. I thought that fact might come in handy if I had a bit of an accident. However, they hid my padding exceptionally well and, whilst sat at my desk in the layers of padding, I felt very confident that, even with crinkly plastic pants underneath, my secret was safe.
As usual I was enjoying my work and constantly glad, despite the wet nappy, that I’d managed to get myself a job where I was excited every day to be there. I was a very lucky boy.
#
At 3.20 Friday afternoon I was in the waiting room at the psychiatrist’s office. Mrs Dewhurst had been insistent that I not miss a doctor’s appointment and had let me go at 3.00. She wanted to know if I needed a change before I went and I did… so I arrived fresh and dry.
Dr Laura Ames and a group of other medical and psychological practitioners had the entire ground floor of the block where dad worked. He was on the top level, Level 9, where the company he worked for had that entire floor as well. Dad played golf with Dr Ames’s husband and they had been to our house for a meal on occasions.
Other than the last time I visited her when I was seven, medically, I’ve had nothing to do with her or her husband who is also a doctor. Socially, we’ve seen each other around but other than that…. not a lot.
I was a little nervous; after all it had been some time since I was last her patient. As I sat waiting I felt that slight, nervy shiver run through my body and realised I’d wet my fresh nappy. Thank heaven Mrs Dewhurst had changed me otherwise I might have leaked had I kept the previous one on… and then what would the good doctor think if I dribbled all over her office?
The thing I didn’t know until later was that she knew all about my problem because my parents had kept her up to date over the years… at a social level. So when she eventually asked me to sit down in her office I thought we’d be starting from scratch… we didn’t.
“Nicer office than last time we talked.” She was smiling encouragingly obviously aware that I was more than little apprehensive.
Her room was nice and tastefully decorated with nothing too outlandish or that cried out ‘Head Doctor – Run Away’.
Mmmm, and a nod was all I could add in agreement to her opening gambit?
Although, surprisingly, now I was with her, I did remember quite well, the room when I was seven. It was a pokey little room with loads of cartoon characters and toys scattered around. It was part of the Children’s Hospital and there were colourful walls which had a huge mural of rainbows and baby animals painted across two of its surfaces.
Still I was here now and I’m not a kid anymore so didn’t need toys to get me to chat. Well I hoped not anyway. I smiled to myself as I thought about it and she caught the emotion.
“Well Anthony… your parents have told me some of what’s happened but I’d like to hear it from you… if that’s OK?”
She was quite direct. I thought I’d have to go through my history but she seemed to want to start from where I was now.
“Erm.” I was a bit stunned as to where to start. “What have mum and dad said?”
She reeled back a bit on the probing, noting that I was taken aback by the sudden launch into my ‘old problem’.
“Before we get into what they said… how about you tell me about this.” She pointed directly at the bulge under my shorts.
“Oh, that… you can tell… erm… I wet myself and I don’t know I’m doing it.”
She let that statement hang for a few seconds and then followed up in a very quiet voice.
“Does that worry you?” Her enquiry was gentle and interested and didn’t seem in the least bit invasive.
Although, this wasn’t what I was expecting at least she didn’t ask “And how does that make you feel?” Well, I suppose she did but at least it sounded like a friendly question rather than a psychoanalytical one.
However, she was a woman in a position of authority and had asked a question so had to answer honestly.
“No.”
She raised her eyebrows and smiled.
“Thank you for being honest… let’s see if we can continue that way shall we?”
I didn’t see I had any alternative. She already knew all about me thanks to mum and dad, and, I’ve never seen the point in lying… that’s also thanks to mum and dad (remember the one spanking I’d ever received?).
“Sure, what do you want to know?”
Even as I said these words another shiver ran through my body and this time I felt a stream of pee gush into my rapidly soaking material. I just hoped the see-thru plastic pants would be sufficient.
I tried not to be scared but was worried what the clever Dr Laura Ames might notice.
The End of An Old Problem – Chapter Ten.
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