maly Posted October 12, 2020 Share Posted October 12, 2020 Thanks for the update. I feel sorry for the boy, being changed by his boss! Maly. Link to comment
Eagle0769 Posted October 13, 2020 Share Posted October 13, 2020 That was a good chapter. Would have enjoyed that happening to me. My boss was hot. Lol Link to comment
Les Lea Posted October 16, 2020 Author Share Posted October 16, 2020 Part 5 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? # # # ...to be continued 2 1 Link to comment
Pierry Louys Posted October 16, 2020 Share Posted October 16, 2020 Great chapter ! I think Jenny gonna say “ you really are so cute and inocent !!! I just want gobble you rsrs 1 Link to comment
Eagle0769 Posted October 16, 2020 Share Posted October 16, 2020 This story is really cute. I wonder what Mrs. Symanski is going to say when she finds out he is wearing a diaper. Maybe he will have 3 ladies taking care of him. And maybe 4 with his sister. Great story please keep going. :-) Link to comment
maly Posted October 16, 2020 Share Posted October 16, 2020 Once again another great chapter, Thanks. Maly. Link to comment
Les Lea Posted October 18, 2020 Author Share Posted October 18, 2020 Thanks guys glad you're enjoying it and should have the next part up on Tuesday-ish. ? Link to comment
Les Lea Posted October 20, 2020 Author Share Posted October 20, 2020 Part 6 I watched the new comedian and thought he was very funny. A young guy from Scotland, gay and whose accent took some getting used to but his observations were spot on. However, by 10.30 I could feel my early morning catching up and decided bed was probably the best course of action. Even though I’d been sporting my newer nappy all night, and it had more or less been on view, I hadn’t felt that it was much different from anything else I’d worn in the past. It was strange because everything seemed normal but it obviously wasn’t and I couldn’t put my finger on the reason... apart from someone my age wearing such robust protection. Maybe wearing a nappy was becoming second nature. I waddled upstairs, opened the window a bit further to let in some air as it was still relatively warm, and removed the satin boxers. As I checked myself and found everything relatively dry I looked in the mirror one last time and decided I’d worry about which trousers I should wear to hide the bulk in the morning. I was engulfed with fatigue and lay out on top of the bed as it was too warm to get under cover. There were a few animal noises outside that I couldn’t identify and gave up trying fairly quickly as sleep took care of everything. I’d like to say my dreams were filled with pleasant scenes of fun and frolics but in truth, the only thing I can actually remember was the taste of orange and the feeling I’d joined Homer Simpson in one of his fantasies about chocolate. Too much telly I suppose? # I woke up with mum shaking me and saying to get up or I’d be late. Strangely, I was just coming around from the dream about sucking some chocolate but found I had my thumb in my mouth. It was all moist and drippy and I wondered how long I’d been slurping on that. The soaked pillow showed I’d been drooling for quite some time. Yuk. There were times when wet nappies, thumb sucking and going off to work just didn’t feel right or normal. Then that moment would pass and nothing could have been more natural. In fact, the more I thought about it, quite a lot of what was happening was surreal and I wondered if it was actually happening to me? Like an out of body experience. I think I was still in the same position I’d fallen asleep but of course soaked. The newer, thicker nappy seemed to have done its work and the more substantial plastic pants had done theirs... so... just me to sort out... as normal. Mum pulled back the curtains and encouraged me to get up. “Jenny’s already gone to school, an early project she wanted to complete, dad’s gone to an early meeting so, guess what, just you and me for breakfast and the bathroom is all yours.” She pointed towards the bathroom as a little indication to get a move on but I looked at my clock and it wasn’t that late, I had plenty of time. “Move it.” Mum could see I was debating whether to take a few extra minutes to recoup but she came over to inspect the new, but soaked, nappy. “How’s this done?” She patted the front padding. “Hmmm, seems OK no problems sleeping by the looks of things...” she smiled, “I think these purple plastic pants are more cheerful than any PJs you’ve had in the past. Yes, highly recommended.” She was having fun and I knew she wouldn’t stop until I’d entered the bathroom and taken a shower. “OK, OK, I can take a hint... jeez can’t a chap...” Actually there was nowhere to go with that conversation as mum started to sort out my clothes for work. “I can do that.” I said in annoyance. “You could but you haven’t, so why not shower and then I can get you properly ready for the day ahead. Remember, we’re trying something more substantial this time and we need to find out what’s best to discretely hide the protection.” There seemed nothing wrong with mum sorting out my clothing and getting me ready for work. She always did that when I was at school, so toddled off to the bathroom and left her to find the correct combination. # The ‘nappy bin’ had reappeared in the bathroom so that’s where I deposited my overnight things. Mum would have them in the washer and out on the line before I left for work that’s for sure. The return of the nappy bin also meant they expected this to last so I needed somewhere to dump the used nappies on a regular basis. I took a quick trip to the toilet then had a thorough shower and, in less than ten minutes, arrived back in the bedroom still drying my hair. In that short space of time mum had got everything ready. “OK let’s get your nappy on first and then you can try on some of these.” She’d laid out nearly all my different trousers and even some of my smarter ‘dress shorts’, as mum liked to call them. “As much as I would like to mum... I’m sure the wearing of shorts is not something anyone approves of.” “Really?” She seemed surprised. “Well, over the two years I’ve been there I’ve never seen anyone wear them except maintenance or delivery men.” “OK, well, we’ll give them a miss... it’s a shame because they would work really well and hide everything. Still...” A nappy was prepared waiting for me to lie out so I did. Mum took time rubbing in the cream and sprinkling a little powder around before she pulled and pinned the new nappy into place. Another pair of purple plastic pants was wriggled up my legs then she helped me up before squeezing the excess air out from the balloon like structure. I had a sudden thought that perhaps I was enjoying this pampering more than I should but that guilt soon passed to being in a lovely comfort zone. That’s the thing, I’m more than comfortable having mum change me... it keeps our relationship close. We tried several pairs of trousers but the one that seemed to work best I didn’t think was smart enough for work - a green canvas style material I didn’t think were as stylish as the shorts. Very loose, made for lounging around rather than for anything important but I had to admit they hid everything so much better than any of my other pants. Mum then twinned them with a nice tight-fitting purple and green polo shirt (if I’d worn the shorts she recommended I could have passed as one of Wimbledon’s ball boys) thankfully, the ensemble didn’t look too shabby. “Well I think your nice green cotton shorts would have worked better but you look fine. I should have thought and bought you some new pants whilst in town yesterday. Perhaps you can nip out in your lunchbreak and find something?” I hate shopping. Not like mum or Jenny who both love it. If it was left to me I’d wear the same things all the time. In fact, shorts and t-shirt, with an occasional hoodie thrown in is all I feel I ever need. If it wasn’t for mum and aunties seeing something they think will ‘suit’ me I’m sure I’d still be wearing my old school uniform. In fact, I was sure I still had it in my wardrobe. However, the comforting bulge under my canvas pants was hidden and I felt able to go to work and not worry about anyone noticing. # The weather proved to be hottest week of the year so far and I had to admit that wearing a nappy with plastic pants made me sweat quite a lot. However, the fabric soaked it all up and apart from an occasional ride up in the folds I managed to cope. Most of the week I managed to get to the toilet before I peed myself, so, in the end only needed Mrs Dewhurst’s involvement on one occasion. I got regular internal emails on my computer asking if I needed a change. To be honest she asked me a couple of times a day but on this one occasion I was soaked and didn’t remember doing so. In fact, I’d only been to the toilet a few minutes earlier before it happened. I guess this’s why mum insists I wear a nappy... it takes away the risk. I sent the simple response YES and she told me to wait ten minute, whilst she closed her office blinds and then she’d call me in. I was shaking again but didn’t know if it was from being in Mrs Dewhurst proximity or the fact I’d wet some more. This system worked well and I don’t think we aroused any suspicion when she asked if I could give her a hand with something in her office. Once there she locked the door and I could see everything laid out ready. I was a bit disappointed because there was no box of Roses anywhere to be seen. The problem I had was that I could taste the orange delight already and knew that I’d need something to distract me if she was going to be using a couple of wipes down below. I know, I know, wanting a treat was very childish and there were times I did feel like a kid when in her office. The other thing I’d noticed, though tried to ignore, was I became totally compliant in her presence. She smiled as I looked apprehensive. “First, I’ve approved your request for Monday off... “ “Thanks, mum wants us to have some time at the coast.” “Sounds nice,” she saw me still looking a little unsure. “Don’t worry I’ve been practising on Julie my daughter so I’ve got it down to a fine art.” I nodded and loosened my canvas pants. “These aren’t what you usually wear,” she observed. I grimaced because I knew they weren’t really smart enough. “No, sorry, but because the padding is thicker I needed something that, you know, didn’t call attention in the office... I don’t want people to know that I’m wetting my pants at my age.” “No, I understand and that’s sensible.” “Mum thinks my dress shorts...” I was making small talk as she got on with pulling my pants and plastic pants off (she did go “Ooh nice” when she saw the purple) and unpinned the soaked nappy. “Don’t you like wearing shorts then?” She wiped away and I took a deep breath as its cool wetness surrounded my naked pubic area. “Actually I prefer them to trousers,” I said finding my voice “and would wear them all the time if it was allowed.” “Well, who said it wasn’t?” She’d already had me lift up so she could run the fresh fabric under my bum. “Erm, well, um, I’ve never seen anyone else in the office wear them so I assumed it, erm...” The thing is... I always prefer to wear shorts because I think they suit me better. I feel it’s the real me and I’m not pretending to be someone I’m not. Mum and dad are used to seeing me wearing them around the house and I think mum is of the opinion they suit me best as well. She always says I look smart when we go anywhere... and has done ever since I was little. “You’re a young man,” Mrs Dewhurst continued, rubbing in some anti-rash cream, “so I can’t see why not, especially as the weather is so hot. As long as they aren’t gaudy coloured board shorts or swimwear... I can’t see any problem” “But none of the others do.” I mentioned as she sprinkled powder. “To be honest there are those who I’d prefer not to see in shorts but you’re youthful and shouldn’t worry. I’m happy if you, or anyone else who want to wear them to the office for that matter, to do so. Especially if you think they would hide the padding better.” She pulled up a pair of see-thru pants and then told me to retrieve my canvas joggers. “It’s up to you but there’s no rule saying you can’t.” Well, that was interesting. Changed and being told shorts were fine. I think, with the weather how it was, shorts would be a lot better idea and maybe some air could get up my pant leg and keep me from over-heating there. I smiled my thanks as I left her office and she called a “Thank you for your help” for the rest of the office to hear. No one looked up or batted an eyelid. # For the next few of days I wore shorts to work and although there were a couple of remarks from older colleagues (shouldn’t I be in school) no one was nasty and when other young members of staff followed my lead that was an end to any comments. Anyway, we’d got the seal of approval from the supervisor so there was no argument. I think we all felt better for air getting to our legs and I had to agree with mum again, shorts were a lot smarter than the canvas pants. In fact, though I was still wearing a nappy the tight cotton of the shorts seemed to hold everything in place so the bulge wasn’t that noticeable. The legs came to about three inches above my knees so no plastic could venture into view and the firmness gave me so much confidence I wasn’t worried about wearing protection at all. To be honest I was in my element and, though I’m not sure why, each day seemed to just zoom by. In fact, both mum and Mrs Dewhurst said the same thing; contrary to what some might have expected, I appeared so much happier. # By Friday I was so confident about my control in not filling a nappy I suggested to mum that for our drive to the coast with Mrs Symanski I wear normal underwear. “Are you sure, I mean she already knows about your problem so you wouldn’t be...” “No, no, it’s not that,” Actually it was that and was shocked someone else knew about my old problem. “I just think I’ve got a handle on it and know when to... you know... anticipate things.” Despite what I said I wasn’t that confident as when I started my request and that was down to the fact that I was more than a bit annoyed mum had shared my ‘secret’ with our old neighbour. “Mum, how does Mrs Symanski know about...?” “I’m sorry love but we’ve been neighbours since you were born... so... don’t you think she’s seen you at your best and... wettest over that time. And, if I’m honest, she’s been a fantastic source of knowledge for most of that time.” “But mummm...” Yes I know that childish whine again. She shrugged as if to say it’s wasn’t the biggest secret in the world and shouldn’t matter that much. “Look, if you’re sure you don’t want a nappy, although I think you’re making a mistake, then of course it’s up to you. However, I’ll be bringing something with me because, although the nice weather is predicted to continue, there may be sudden storms brewing so I’ll not take any chances.” She smiled but I knew she meant it. # Friday night, and hoping to prove a point, I slept in my clean Adidas shorts without a nappy underneath. Both my parents had tried to convince me that it was too early but I was determined to break the control my bladder had over me. I woke up in the morning and nervously felt the front of my shorts... they were a little damp. I checked and it looked like I’d done a small pee. I felt stupid but didn’t want to admit it. I got up, washed my shorts through so to all intents and purposes, nothing had happened. I showered and got ready wearing white briefs and my new favourite uniform of dress shorts and polo shirt. I chose pale blue, mid-length shorts and a green and blue paisley short-sleeved shirt... I looked the dog’s bollocks. At breakfast I said nothing about my little spurt and as mum had loaded the car pretty soon we were on our way to pick up our talkative neighbour. It was a beautiful sunny Saturday and I just hoped that not everyone else would be heading to the coast otherwise it would be an even longer journey in the company of Mrs Symanski. She was waiting at her door with a large wheelie suitcase and looking like she’d dressed for a summer pageant - a flowery dress, large sun hat and a huge handbag which I suspect could hold as much as her suitcase. Anyway, I volunteered to take control of her suitcase and rolled it to the boot and slid it in between our more conservative packing. Before I could claim my front passenger seat back she’d climbed in so I was left with the back seat all to myself. Well, not quite, as I was now sharing it with Mrs Symanski large hat. She kept her ginormous bag on her knee. “My Anthony you do look smart... very summery.” She beamed her toothy smile, “and Mary, you look lovely as well.” “That’s a lovely dress you’re wearing...” Mum countered and, as we set off that was the subject of conversation for the next half hour. Where she was when she saw it. How she wasn’t sure about it and went back a couple of times before deciding to buy it... and a host of other pretty boring things related to how often she’s worn it, the choice of wearing it today and the fact she thought it made her look younger. How mum could keep any trace of interest in her voice I’ll never know. # Despite her constant forensic review and inclusion of every minor detail, I took the opportunity to nod a little bit, so the two hour drive fairly flew by and we were soon off the A-roads and onto the country lanes that led to Mrs Symanski sister’s cottage near the coast. Unfortunately, as sometimes happens on such roads, a farmer was herding his cows from one field to another and that held up the traffic. I could also feel I urgently needed the toilet but, as we hadn’t stopped, merely drove slowly on. I couldn’t get out and... too late. Although I knew I needed to go, which was an improvement to when I had no idea I’d wet at work, when the flood broke, I had no control. I closed my eyes and unprepared, my bladder exploded in my pale blue shorts drenching them and my briefs. When I opened my eyes I saw Mrs Symanski looking at me and watching the wet stain quickly covering the front changing from pale to dark blue. “Mary, I thought you said he was back in nappies.” That comment didn’t help but I was in no position to complain. “No, he says he has control now so doesn’t need...” “Well I think you’d better pull over because he’s pissed his pants pretty badly.” I could have done without her pithy observation but she wasn’t wrong. “Oh... just a minute Anthony whilst I find somewhere to pull in.” Mrs Symanski kept her eyes on me the whole time as I fidgeted in shame on the back seat. “Mind my hat.” Was the only other thing she said until we were past the herd that sauntered into a field and we joined the line of cars through to the next village. There was a car park so mum drove to the furthest corner and for the first time was able to see the damage. “Oh Anthony, I said this might happen.” She wasn’t so much angry as resigned that she needed to change me when it could have been avoided if I’d only listened. She got out the car and rummaged around in the boot and brought out a large pack of Abena Abri-Form Premium M4. I was surprised because mum doesn’t use disposables as a rule. “I’ve come prepared sweetheart... I hope these will do.” “Mum, leave it until we get to the hotel... I can wait.” I pleaded. “Don’t be stupid Anthony,” this was Mrs Symanski, “You don’t want to be sat around in pee-soaked pants you’ll smell and then the car will smell and...” “Yes, yes,” mum interrupted her flow, “I think we’ve got this covered thank you.” She looked at Mrs Symanski who sniffed but said nothing else. “Take off everything that’s wet please.” I didn’t want to especially with Mrs Symanski sitting in the front seat. However, the alternative was being changed out in the open where any passing person could see, and didn’t fancy that, no matter how sunny the day was. I tried one last time. “Mum I can wait... honestly.” Mum gave me that look that meant she was not to be swayed, so reluctantly I unbuttoned my shorts and pulled them free. “....and your undies... and the shirt it looks like the bottom has got a bit wet.” # So naked, on the back seat of our car I was bright red with embarrassment, feeling stupid and childish after what had just happened. Mum handed me a small hand towel and some wipes. “Can I help love?” Mrs Symanski had changed from judging me to being her helpful self. She gazed at me and shrugged. “Don’t worry Anthony these things happen even to the best of us.” I was only half listening but did that sound like she was admitting to wetting herself or was she just trying to be nice? “If you can hold these.” Mum offered the unopened package to her whilst she put my wet clothes in a plastic bag. “Oh I’ve heard these are nice dear... thick and fluffy,” she smiled, “I wish they had them like this when my kids were babies.” “Babies?” I wasn’t a baby... it annoyed me that she thought that... or at least said that even if she didn’t direct it at me. I wished she wasn’t here to witness this but unfortunately there was no escape as mum seemed determined to get me cleaned up with or without an audience... our neighbour wasn’t one for privacy. Mrs Symanski’s family were all grown up now. She had two daughters and two sons. The daughters were married and living in Poland, one of her son’s had emigrated to Australia and her youngest, Stefan I think it was, she never spoke about. Always the master of small talk she launched into what nappies were like as she was raising her brood. Thankfully it was quite distracting as mum made sure I was dry before adding the thick gloopy mass of anti-rash cream she smoothed in. All the time Mrs Symanski kept up a litany of things she didn’t have that parents were lucky to have these days. Including such well-made disposables as were now being successfully taped into place around my groin and the new shiny purple plastic pants which she thought were ‘adorable’. I have to admit that the disposable was so much quicker and mum had everything done in super quick time. She eventually slammed the car boot closed and, as if making a point, didn’t hand me any shorts to cover myself up. I thought it was her way of making sure I knew in future not to go against her advice. The rest of the trip I sat in a thick nappy and ‘adorable’ plastic pants whilst Mrs Symanski went on about the last time she’d visited her sister and the rows they had. I could imagine it, especially if they were as talkative as each other. Occasionally she would turn to me if she was making a point and stare at my padding and smile. I wasn’t sure what was going on in her head but I’m sure it would make another tale to tell on any future journey. I just hoped I wouldn’t be there when it happened. Eventually we arrived at her sister’s place and they were all hugs and smiles as they embraced each other. Whilst I’d gone to get our neighbour’s case I also retrieved a pair of football shorts to quickly cover the padding. I hoped the two old ladies wouldn’t pass comment but her sister noticed and with an air of some authority asked if I was OK and did I need somewhere to change. “No love he’s only just been changed,” she helpfully explained to her sister, “He peed his pants on the way...” I’m sure she could have gone on for another twenty minutes but I was so embarrassed I ran to the car told mum to put her foot down and get out of this place. “She was only being friendly.” I said we would be there the entire weekend if we engaged in further ‘pleasant little chats’. Mum laughed at my joke and with a final wave we were on our way to the hotel, which was about five miles further down the coast. # # # ...to be continued 4 1 1 Link to comment
Pierry Louys Posted October 20, 2020 Share Posted October 20, 2020 Someone is now the baby of the neighborhood rsrs using disposable Nappies and being changed in the side road ! Now the next step is using proper clothes like snap crotch shorts and onesies to facilitate diaper changes rsrs Link to comment
maly Posted October 20, 2020 Share Posted October 20, 2020 Mums are usually right (annoyingly) Thanks for the update. Maly. Link to comment
Les Lea Posted October 22, 2020 Author Share Posted October 22, 2020 Correct - Mum's are usually right. Mary's no different but she sees things other mum's might not recognise. Her son has a problem... an old problem... a problem that seems to be getting worse. The question is - can she manage it before it engulfs Anthony completely? Link to comment
Pierry Louys Posted October 22, 2020 Share Posted October 22, 2020 16 minutes ago, Les Lea said: Correct - Mum's are usually right. Mary's no different but she sees things other mum's might not recognise. Her son has a problem... an old problem... a problem that seems to be getting worse. The question is - can she manage it before it engulfs Anthony completely? In the worst case scenario she gonna have her baby boy back to take care ! 1 Link to comment
Les Lea Posted October 23, 2020 Author Share Posted October 23, 2020 Part 7 The hotel was set in quite a pretty area and had a sign that proudly proclaimed ‘200yds to the Beach’ down an unmade road. The coast could quite easily be seen from where we stood at the car park so was hopeful my room would have a nice sea view. I pulled our case from the boot. “Don’t forget the nappies.” Mum chided me for not picking them up. I sighed but knew she’d made a point earlier. I went back and got them and tried to hide what they were between me and the two small wheelie cases. I caught mum up in reception where an elderly gentleman was just checking out. I hoped all the clientele weren’t his age. Once the man left with a greasy ‘Thank you’ to the pretty young receptionist she turned her attention to us. I saw her briefly scan our luggage and no doubt noticed the large pack of disposables. They weren’t that easy to disguise. “Reservation for Turner,” mum smiled her smile at the receptionist. I was hoping against hope that this girl, who couldn’t have been much older than me, hadn’t noticed or if she had didn’t automatically think they were for me. “Ah yes, twin room, second floor Room 21.” Mum handed the girl her credit card and the transaction passed off without incident. She received a similar looking card as the key and I wondered where my card was. “Mum, what room am I in?” “You’re with me silly.” I was just about to demand (well as much as I demand anything) that she book me my own room when she gently squeezed my padded bottom and asked quietly if I needed a change. I nervously turned to check if the receptionist had heard but she was on the phone and chatting to someone else. “Muummm.” Yes it was that whine again. “I think it best that we stay as close together as possible don’t you?” It wasn’t a question more a statement as she led us up to our room. There were two quite large beds, a separate bathroom and thankfully our view did look out over the gardens and towards the sea. “Mum I’m eighteen surely I should have...” She squeezed my thick nappy again. That shut up any further discussion. “I don’t know about you but it’s almost lunchtime so how about something to eat before we spend time on the beach?” I was hungry so we quickly unpacked the few things we’d brought. Mum asked me to change out of the football shorts and wear something decent. The other nice pair she reminded me, was soaked and wrapped in a plastic bag in the car. She wasn’t going to let me forget my misdemeanour, well not just yet anyway. “Do you need a change before we go?” I shook my head thinking how I’d brought this on myself. “OK Anthony, that was the last jibe and I want us to have a good time together so... I’m not going to ask again as long as you let me know straight away if you do need changing. Do we have a deal?” “Yes,” and then I was overcome with regret, “sorry mum I should have listened to you.” “You should always listen to your mother.” She said stroking my hair and gently kissed the top of my head. “A mother always knows what her children need... even if they don’t.” I smiled and nodded now we were back to our usual selves. I slipped into my favourite dark green shorts. # After a rather nice lunch at the hotel bar we went back to the room... I was wet. As we’d planned a couple of hours taking advantage of the glorious weather and lying out on the beach it meant I didn’t need changing except into my swimming trunks. “Seems like a plan.” Mum said “However, don’t forget to give yourself a wipe down before you put them on.” “No mum.” I said in some exasperation. We got ready and mum looked pretty good in her swimsuit and I looked like her young son in my pale blue Speedos. This was what I meant by not buying much new stuff, I’d had these Speedos for ages and although a very tight fit, didn’t want to lose them. Mum looked down at my crotch. “It really is time to get something better... look... why not wear your football shorts instead?” “Because they become see through once they’re wet.” “OK, but put them over your trunks until we get to the beach at least... they look painful.” Although I didn’t want to admit it once again mum was right, I must have grown a little since last time I’d worn them because they were very tight indeed but I hadn’t bought any new ones. It’s silly really as I had loads of shorts I could have brought. I felt a bit stupid that I’d only brought the Speedos, perhaps in future I should let mum pack my bag. I could see mum was still debating with herself whether it would be advisable for me to wear a disposable but, if I intended going in the sea at some point that would be a waste. “OK, let’s get going shall we?” We packed a couple of towels and hoped that the beach would have loungers and parasols. # The beach was crowded and it seemed everyone had decided to spend Saturday making the most of a British summer, because you never knew how long it was going to last. I looked around and there seemed to be kids of all ages screaming, playing footy, tossing Frisbees, batting balls, swimming and floating. Right next to where we pitched our towels (no loungers left) was a family with three boys and a baby girl having a picnic. Mum did what mums do and said to the wife how beautiful and cute her baby daughter was and added how well behaved her boys were. “You should have been here ten minutes ago... they were running riot but hopefully, with a bit of grub in them, they’ll calm down a bit.” We all laughed as the boys looked up chomping on some kind of meaty sandwich stuck in their mouths. We lay out and I spread some sun tan lotion on mum’s back and she did the same to me. I’d wriggled out of the footy shorts by then and just lay in my Speedos. “Is this your boy?” the woman asked. “Yes, Anthony... say hello.” “Oh hello.” “What Year is he in?” She pointed to obviously the eldest son, “Johnny, he’s in Year 6, this one is in Year 4 and these two... still at home with mummy.” She smiled and rubbed her youngest son’s tummy so he giggled hysterically. I was pretty indignant. Why had she asked mum and not me and... bloody cheek... she thought I was still at school. Mum saw I’d gone red, and not because of the sun, so changed the conversation. “Well he seems a joyful little chap,” mum was looking at the chuckling little handful and I could see he was still wearing padding under his little Minion shorts. “Let’s hope it lasts,” the woman replied knowingly. “I think I’ll go for a swim.” I needed to get away from that family set up. I didn’t want to be dragged in to this exchange of pleasantries. “Oh OK.” Mum acknowledged. As I got up to leave so did the other two boys. “We’ll come and join you.” It wasn’t a request. So we ventured down to the water’s edge where I was going to dare them to take the plunge. I didn’t need to dare them as they both dove in and swam easily in the cold sea. Now I was in a quandary. I wasn’t actually planning on swimming, just a bit of paddling but I couldn’t be shown up by these two kids. Besides, I suddenly felt my Speedos getting warm and I realised my leg was shaking and unconsciously peeing so I needed to get in quickly. However, the eldest noticed before I had chance to submerge. “You’re s’posed to wait until you get in the water before you pee.” He laughed. I was quite embarrassed and decided not to respond so spent a few minutes surface diving and hoping they’d go away. However, every time I resurfaced they’d be there and wanting to chat. Eventually I could put them off any longer and they introduced themselves Johnny, who I knew was eleven and nine year old Kevin... they were from Bradford and went to a school whose name I didn’t catch. I told them my home town and they wanted to know which year I was in. “I work, I left school at sixteen and found a...” “You work?” Johnny sounded incredulous. “What, you’re sixteen... we thought you’d be in Year 6 like me... wow... “ I didn’t know what to say so I dove under the water and hoped to change the subject when I resurfaced. Although it had been commented on before, my slim stature had never bothered me and I didn’t know why it was doing so now. I am who I am but more than once, when out with the family, it has been assumed I was barely older than Jenny. It’s annoying when you get handed the Children’s Menu. Dad just takes it off me and hands it back to the waiter or waitress and asks for a proper menu. At this point they’re usually a little flustered but after apologising are super attentive. # When I did resurface they’d got chatting to another group of kids so I took the opportunity to slowly backstroke myself away. Although it was summer the sea wasn’t that warm and whilst I was getting used to it could feel my genitals shrink to nothing. I then began to think that I didn’t want to get out because folk would see I had no bulge, which was at odds when I wore a nappy because of course that gave me a significant outline around my pubic region. This was stupid. I didn’t really want to swim I just wanted to relax in the sun and hopefully get some rays on my pale body. I ventured back and thankfully noticed mum was laid out and asleep or at least not engaged in chat any more. I stretched out beside her and she looked over and shrugged. She must have known I’d had a bit of a trial. “Mum.” “Yes love.” “Just give me a shove to turn over in about twenty minutes.” “OK.” The sound of waves gently rolling in and astonishingly, even the sound of the seagulls and noise of the crowd lulled me into a deep relaxation. I settled down and, once I wriggled about and got myself comfortable, drifted off. With the sun beating down my body warmed nicely and although I was aware of the sounds around, they didn’t intrude as different thoughts floated into my head. I was on the cusp of sleep and wakefulness when a dream took hold and I was with those three boys. They were pointing and laughing because they said I wet my pants. I was trying to hide away but when I turned they could see the padding and purple plastic pants bursting out from behind my tiny Speedos, which only encouraged them to jeer more. They began to push me and I felt small and abused and couldn’t fight back. Their pushes turned more aggressive to shoves and were taunting ‘baby pants, baby pants, baby pants’. I came too with a start and almost in tears but mum was gently shaking my shoulder telling me to turn over. Relief. I looked over to the family and they were all sprawled out and sunbathing quietly. I was just about to turn over when I realised I was shaking and peeing into my Speedos. There was quite a flood and I knew that the towel was going to be soaked and I dreaded anyone, especially the kids opposite, knowing what I’d done. Mum saw the anxious look on my face. “Are you alright sweetheart?” However, my slow response and look of shame told her exactly what had happened. Although the sky out to sea was a wonderful shade of blue, back the other way dark clouds were amassing overland. It looked like another summer storm was brewing. “OK Anthony, enough sun for the moment let’s get back to the hotel and...” she nodded towards my swimming trunks but didn’t finish the sentence. “Thankfully, we don’t have far to go so... just wrap the towel around your waist.” To be honest I couldn’t get away quick enough but as I rushed I saw Johnny wave and smile a friendly smile, “Nice meeting you Anthony.” I felt guilty for casting him as a villain who would make fun of my predicament. I sneakily held the towel covering my trunks so it wouldn’t show just how wet either was. Thankfully, sand had attached itself to my wet outline so as we walked away I pretended to shake it off. I’m not sure if it worked and no one was any the wiser but I thought I’d handled the situation quite well. # However, as I stood under the shower back at the hotel watching sand and stale urine getting washed down the plughole I wondered why I’d had that half-dream. Apart from the fact that they thought I was younger than I am there was no inkling that they regarded me as anything but a new friend. I assumed that’s why I had that, that hallucination, but didn’t know if it was the reason I peed myself. It could have been because I felt threatened but whatever the reason I don’t think mum will be keen on my return to underpants anytime soon. I rinsed out my Speedos and hung them on the showerhead to dry and then dried myself. Mum was sat on her bed as I entered from the bathroom and I saw she had the pack of disposables all ready. “You’ve wet yourself twice today sweetheart...” “Three... I’ve wet three times... sorry mum.” “It’s OK dear but I think it’s these until we get home.” She dangled an unopened Abena M4. I nodded and hadn’t actually minded wearing the one I was changed into in the car park. Like Mrs Symanski said, they were quite soft, fluffy and fitted surprisingly well. Oddly I had that taste of orange chocolate in my mouth and wondered if mum had brought some with her. When I asked her she said she hadn’t so didn’t let on about the strange ‘tang’ in my mouth. Mum helped me dry off and thought we should look around the garden and perhaps take a walk along the cliff tops before the storm came. It seemed as good an idea as any. She spread out the full disposable on my bed and got me to lie out. Somehow she had a tube of anti-rash cream and smoothed that around before pulling the tapes together and fastening me in. She started looking in one of the draws and I saw she’d also brought a selection of vinyl pants. Obviously she’d suspected I’d need them at some point. They were in various colours but I chose a dark blue pair and slipped them up and over the disposable. There was a look in mum’s eye and I couldn’t work out if it was the inevitability of what she’d done or whether approval of the fit. Either way she passed me the rest of my clothes and before too long we had viewed the garden and launched ourselves along the cliff tops. # It was nice just sauntering along. The views out to sea were breath-taking and we could see four large ships on the horizon, together with a couple of yacht and several small fishing boats. People were still splashing and swimming around in the surf below and the screams overhead of the cacophonous birdlife all added to that awe-inspiring moment. On top of that, a pleasant cool breeze wafted around and up my shorts keeping me satisfyingly refreshed. We chatted and laughed about nothing in particular but mum did have some choice and amusing things to recount regarding Mrs Symanski. She wasn’t nasty or gossipy just some of the silly, long-winded ways she explained things. Although as a family we are very close, I’d never felt closer to mum than I did on that walk. We hugged and walked arm in arm like we used to do when I was just a little kid... it was wonderful. The weather was warm and the sun shone – everything was just perfect. In fact, apart from Mrs Symanski witnessing my accident, this was turning out to be a brilliant break and I’m so glad we were able to take this together. It might have been nicer for all the family to be here but I wasn’t complaining mum was such great company. We seemed to walk for miles but I suppose it wasn’t really all that far. The earlier threatening clouds appeared to have broken up and mum checked the forecast on her phone. Although it did say ‘possible intermittent thunder showers’ it seemed that today, in our little piece of paradise, it decided not to bother. With the breeze rushing around my groin mum’s ‘standby’ protection didn’t feel a burden and I was beginning to enjoy the caress of an M4. I’d never had to wear one before... and I liked it. # In the evening, on the recommendation of the hotel, we ate at a restaurant just a few doors away from where we were staying even receiving a voucher for a free bottle of Prosecco if you bought two main meals. Mum got a few disapproving looks from some of the other diners as she filled up my glass to accompany the fine roast leg of lamb with garlic and rosemary, accompanied by a medley of fresh local farm vegetables, we both enjoyed. I overheard someone say it was disgraceful that she should be letting a child drink alcohol but by then I was happy in letting them think I was younger. After all, it wouldn’t be the first time today. We giggled like school kids on the walk back to the hotel and only just made it before the clouds burst and a torrential shower drove the happy holiday-makers off the streets. We watched a bit of TV before bed but when I undressed I was surprised to see I’d soaked the disposable. I never realised or noticed until I took down my shorts and plastic pants. I sighed but mum must have heard me and came into the bathroom and told me not to worry. I wasn’t worrying but grateful that mum had brought extra protection. I cleaned myself up and mum rubbed in more cream. She also commented on how nice they felt and made a big thing about fluffing them out and getting me to lie out before pulling everything together and taping me in. “They look good,” she said as she threaded fresh plastic pants over them, “do you want to go to sleep or watch a bit more telly?” It was only about ten so we opted for a film that was about to start. I only saw about half of it before I was yawning and sliding between the welcoming covers of my bed. I don’t think mum was long after me, whilst the disposable felt large, fluffy, welcoming... so it was easy to fall asleep. # Mary Turner wasn’t sure why she woke up but intuition made her aware of... something. There was a low mewling sound she could hear but wasn’t sure where it was coming from. She looked at her phone, 3.32, she would have shrugged and gone back to sleep except that sad noise was still there. A distant flash lit up the window and illuminated the outline of her son. “Anthony... Anthony are you... alright?” She spoke quietly as the night often makes people do. No reply. She turned on the bedside lamp which was of a very low wattage so wasn’t very effective in illuminating the entire room. However, it was powerful enough for her to see her son kneeing on the sofa and staring out into the night sky. “Anthony, Anthony.” She whispered. Still no reply - so got out of bed noticing his bloated, bright, shiny purple plastic pants glowing even under such soft lighting. Silently she walked over to where he was kneeling. The soft sound she’d heard was now evident her son was sucking his thumb, shaking and making gentle little cries. Over the years she’d found him in similar circumstances after a storm and the image almost always made her think about that time in a tent in France. Even now, all these years later, he looked so small and juvenile, like a little kid, vulnerable and anxiously waiting for something. However, although as a child he cried if it thundered, she’d not heard him react that way recently. His eyes were open and she followed his gaze. Although the sky was clear and the stars and planets shone brightly, over on the far horizon soft distant flashes indicated a storm out to sea. She listened but could hear no rumbling so assumed it was too far away. She’d heard no storm pass nearby so perhaps it hadn’t woken him... in fact... she wasn’t sure he was awake. But how then had he known there was a storm? Although his eyes were open and was staring out to sea, there was no reaction when she gently stroked his hair and tenderly wrapped her arm around his waist. “Come on sweetie, let’s get you back into bed.” Although it was dark, the occasional distant flash vaguely lit up his face but his eyes barely registered what he saw. However, his thumb sucking got more fervent as his mother tried to rouse him. Aware that the storm must be having some influence she checked. Slipping her hand down the front of his plastic pants and the poor boy was saturated. She examined the back and it was waterlogged, probably meaning the disposable had taken a few soakings. “Oh sweetie...” She gently pulled his thumb from his lips and guided him towards the bathroom. He walked as if in a daze but at least moving under his own power no matter how slowly. Once there she pulled down the bloated plastic cover and released the tabs, the disposable flopped with a sodden splat onto the tiled flooring. Anthony had no idea what was going on but thankfully the mewling had stopped and, his mother hoped, so had his peeing. However, she wanted to get him back into fresh disposable as soon as possible just in case he started again. # As If on auto-pilot a slightly trembling Anthony lay out on the cold tiled floor whilst his mother quickly wiped him down before going to retrieve a couple of fresh M4s. She expertly lifted his legs and placed the thick fabric under his bottom and then, with some effort, taped him in. Using the same pair of plastic pants, she tugged them up and over the double padding but it was a squeeze. Pulling him to his feet she checked all was safely gathered behind the plastic cover and then led him back to bed and covered him with a blanket. Sitting on the bed and stroking his hair she wasn’t sure what to make of this development. Perhaps this was how he’d been when he witnessed that lightning strike back home. Between them both Mary and her husband had wondered if that strike might have had more of an effect than their son realised. He did seem to need nappies more but otherwise he was functioning normally. That link between a thunderstorm and Anthony’s reaction to them had been an issue for many years... but why? That was the question that absorbed her as she continued to stroke his hair to comfort him. It was if time had simply been rolled back ten or so years, Anthony looked so young, innocent and totally dependent on her. Meanwhile, his right hand found its way from under the covers and his thumb found its way between his lips. A soft slurping noise could just be heard as he turned on his side, closed his eyes and slipped back into a deep sleep. Mary sat for a short while longer wondering what to say come the morning but, as there was nothing she could do there and then, returned to her own bed. After turning off her bedside light, she saw a few distant flashes barely light up the room and soon found herself also drifting off. # # # ...to be continued 7 1 Link to comment
Pierry Louys Posted October 23, 2020 Share Posted October 23, 2020 Poor Antony he needs his mommy more that he knows !!! Link to comment
Pierry Louys Posted October 23, 2020 Share Posted October 23, 2020 Ps i think his mommy have to buy a dummy for him since thumb sucking is not sanitary and good for his ? Link to comment
Eagle0769 Posted October 23, 2020 Share Posted October 23, 2020 I'm surprised that instead of his thumb going in is mouth that he didn't start suckling on his mother nipple under her night gown. Yes I know I'm a bad baby boy :-) Link to comment
maly Posted October 23, 2020 Share Posted October 23, 2020 Anthony is lucky to have such a loving mother. Thanks for the new chapter. Maly. Link to comment
Les Lea Posted October 27, 2020 Author Share Posted October 27, 2020 Part 8 “C’mon sweetheart breakfast is being served in the garden... and it’s such a beautiful morning I don’t want to miss any of it.” Mum had just nudged me awake and I was barely conscious as she raved on about what we might do for the rest of the day. She seemed pretty immersed in a “Things to do...” brochure. “Yeah, yeah OK, erm, what’s this?” I’d reached under the blanket and detected that my padding was thicker than usual... it was also wet as usual but... “Oh yes, well sweetie, last night you did a bit of sleep-walking and spent some time at the window,” she nodded towards it so I knew exactly which window she meant. “You were watching a storm on the horizon but you’d saturated your nappy so I had to put you in a fresh one.” “Really, I mean, I don’t remember getting up... or you changing me...” “No love, I think you were in some sort of trance but... you were very, very wet so I changed you.” She smiled her winning smile. “So sharing a room wasn’t such a bad idea... hmmm? C’mon, get up and let’s make a start on the day.” I pulled back the cover and revealed my bulky plastic pants. “So, I seem to have wet twice last night...” I shrugged patting the large squishy cushion I was wearing. “Twice, maybe more...” she shook her head as if there was more to it but she didn’t want to say, “those were just as a precaution but look like they paid off.” The thickness spread my legs a bit and although this was nothing new, I did feel like a toddler as I tried to rise from my bed. “Did the storm wake you as well?” I asked hoping she wouldn’t notice I was struggling a bit. “Actually, I don’t think the storm came anywhere near us...” she looked out the window, “I can’t see any puddles or any evidence that it rained last night so, it might have only been out at sea.” As she searched for any tell-tale signs I managed to wriggle myself out of bed and stood in wonder at the huge glassy pants surrounding my wet nappy. “I wonder why... it doesn’t make any sense if it didn’t wake me up... I mean...” I didn’t remember anything about last night and now I felt completely detached from what went on. “That’s why you’re in nappies...” she smiled in encouragement, “They’re there to protect you from a wet bed. Thankfully, they do what they’re supposed to do and you seem none-the-worse for it. So, sleepy head... c’mon, let’s get you changed and see what delicacies they have for breakfast.” Her eighteen year-old son, wearing a huge swollen nappy didn’t seem to faze her at all as she urged me to get a move on. # I did my toilet, had a quick shower and was back ready for mum to do her thing and wrap me up for the day. “Do you think you can handle two?” She was rummaging around in the pack of disposables. “I don’t think I could get my shorts over two so let’s not push it. I should be alright with what I normally wear.” She inspected me thoroughly for any redness or rashes before rubbing in cream and taping me in. “I really like these Abenas... they don’t half give me a soft reassuring hug.” I enthused. “Good, but don’t get used to them, they’re expensive and... only for special occasions when we can’t do such personal laundry. It will be back to fabric when we get home.” “In that case, I better make full use of them,” I teased. I slipped into my green shorts and a pale blue crew-necked t-shirt “Ready.” “Have you got everything you’ll need for the day?” She said as she held out my small backpack that I knew held a couple of disposables and various other bits and bobs should the weather turn. “I have now thanks. I’m starved.” I kissed mum on the cheek and we set off to find a nice place to have breakfast in the garden. Mum went to discuss something with reception; I suppose it was about entry to some of the places we were planning on visiting, whilst I found a corner table for two. I hadn’t realised just how thirsty I was so before mum arrived back I’d sunk two large glasses of orange juice. (I wonder if this is why I keep getting a tang of orange in my mouth... the amount of OJ I drink?) Although mum settled for a bowl of mixed fruit followed by croissants and a pot of tea for breakfast I was hungry and decided on scrambled egg, toast and bacon. They were very generous with the rashers and I ate the lot then needed another large glass of orange to help it all down. We chatted about mum’s plans, she wanted to visit two nearby sites which for some reason, when we came before, she never got round to seeing. She also asked if I wanted to go back to the beach and I said that if the sun was still shining when we’d done her tour I wouldn’t mind a little lie out. “OK then, that’s what we’ll do.” She shoved the last piece of buttered croissant in her mouth with an air of comic finality, whilst I sank the last of the juice. I thought it was a great start to the day. # Before we left mum was making reservations, well, asking the receptionist, to make reservations, at a restaurant we’d been recommended when chatting to people the previous day. Meanwhile, as I stood around with my backpack perched strategically on my shoulders I noticed a girl I thought I recognised waiting. She had sunglasses on, so I wasn’t too sure but I made myself known anyway. “Hi, Trinny isn’t it?” I smiled what I hoped was a winning rather than predatory smile. “Who’s asking.” She was very offhand but at least she was talking. “It’s me, Anthony, Anthony Turner from...” “Ah, from school, Year 5... Mrs Anghar’s class?” “Year 11 actually.” Yes it was definitely her. She was always putting me down because of my size and it looked like things hadn’t changed. The thing was, now I’d made contact I remembered I didn’t like her much and she didn’t like me but... we’re grown-ups now so hopefully... “You still in class?” She was off hand but at least making small talk. “No, I work. I’m a computer analyst.” I have no idea why I said that because although I work with computers that’s not my job description. “Oh,” her interest perked up. “Yes, recruited when I was sixteen,” God what was I saying? I’m trying to impress a girl I never got on with... what’s wrong with me? “So, here having a dirty weekend like...” She didn’t finish saying as mum walked over. “Oh my god you’re dating an oldie?” “No, no, no... I’m...” I was lost for words but in some way I just didn’t want to correct her. Part of me was hoping this would get back to all my old school mates... and even those who weren’t my mates. “C’mon sweetie momma needs her fix.” “Yes, fine OK, erm I’m needed so... by Trinny, hope you have a great day.” It all happened so quickly and I just hope she didn’t detect the slight rustle of my plastic pants or notice the bulge in my shorts... and if she did, put it down to something sexual. I couldn’t wait to tell mum what had just happened but then wondered if she would be pleased at being called an oldie. Perhaps better to remain quiet on the subject. However, as we set off I had a huge self-satisfied smile on my face. And I thought the day had already started well. # When we got to the car I noticed mum also had a huge grin on her face. “Well that was fun.” “Erm, what was?” I asked innocently. She looked at me as if I wasn’t fooling anyone. “You were trying to impress that girl.” “But, but...” “I overheard everything darling... she now thinks you are dating an older, sophisticated lady... you wish.” I sort of smiled and grimaced at the same time because I’d been found out. “Was she a friend?” “No, I recognised her from school but she didn’t like me - not trendy or tough enough I guess.” “And yet you still....” “Yes I know, I know stupid...” I sighed, “she always treated me as a nobody.” “Oh, I’m sorry sweetheart... you’re trendy and tough enough for momma.” And she burst into gales of laughter, which made me feel better. “Now then, the castle first, I think it opens in about ten minutes and it’ll take us about twenty to get there.” We jumped in the car and I felt the thick, soft padding hugging me as I settled into the seat. This really was a brilliant way to start the day. # The castle on a sunny day was proving popular so mum said we’d only take a quick look around after all. Despite the blurb in the “Things to do...” section it didn’t have a lot to see or do once you got there. So after a few posed photographs, I clambered up a reinforced battlement and had to admit that the view was quite spectacular. There was another soft click so knew mum was getting a few more images to show to dad and Jenny. On the way to the castle mum had told me about the siege that had taken place during the War of the Roses and I tried my best to visualize the battle. I closed my eyes and wondered what a battle would sound like; unfortunately my imagination just wasn’t up to it. However, a couple of young girls were screaming as they jumped from one battlement to another and that seemed to create a similar chaotic atmosphere. As their excited screams and laughter continued I stood looking out feeling the strong cooling breeze wafting around my unexpectedly trembling legs. It was at that moment I felt my bladder give way and the amount of orange juice I’d gulped down at breakfast make a hasty exit into my disposable. I’d had no warning, although perhaps should have expected it, but, like back in the office, I couldn’t stop the flow. The stream seemed to take an awful long time and was worried that the M4 just wouldn’t cope with the amount but trusted the plastic pants would do their job. Mum was waiting as I tentatively climbed down from my prominent position and looked questioningly at me. There was another soft click she caught the moment of my al fresco embarrassment. She knew what she’d just taken a shot of and smiled knowingly as I drew near. “I guess it’s time to find somewhere to change you.” I nodded because the soaked disposable had expanded quite significantly so my shorts looked like I’d been storing an inflatable cushion around my groin. I tried to walk as normal but could tell I had a bit of a waddle, which felt strange but not too uncomfortable. Mum found a disabled toilet and we popped in. Without much ceremony I undid my shorts, slid the plastic pants down and mum got to work yanking the sodden piece of material off. It seemed massive. My backpack had all the items needed to make me clean and fresh for the rest of the trip and mum wasted no time giving me a quick wipe and then taping me in. The entire process only took a couple of minutes but when we let ourselves out who should be the first person I saw, Trinny. She looked shocked as she saw us both emerge and I hoped she thought we were having a quickie. Alas, as I was still hitching up my pants, she might well have heard me thanking mum for the change but she hadn’t quite put the disposable away and saw her stuffing things into my backpack. A huge smile spread across Trinny’s face. “Still wetting your pants... you always were a little kid... thankfully your mummy’s there to change you.” She laughed and then walked over to a lad who looked like he should be playing rugby for Leeds Rhinos. Any comment or clever response went unsaid and all I could think about was - a guy my age wearing a nappy was good gossip for someone like Trinny. Unfortunately, my fantasy of being seen as some kind of sexual stud had lasted less than two hours. However, despite the total embarrassment, I was wearing a nice new dry Abena... so it wasn’t all bad. “Sorry sweetheart,” Mum apologised. I was flushed but just shrugged, it wasn’t important. “Not your fault mum... and I doubt if I’ll see her again anytime soon. Not that I want to see her anyway...” She put her arm around my shoulder and gave me a hug. “Right, on to Mansion Gardens I think and then perhaps we’ll have time for the beach later this afternoon.” We got in the car and left. I had to admit that the ruins looked pretty impressive from a distance but I was glad we were leaving. However, Trinny’s words “Still wetting your pants...you always were a little kid” were giving me food for thought. # As we drove I was processing a few things. Like, why did thunder storms affect me so much and so easily, surely this was something only a child would have problems with? This most basic of question which I’d never been able to find an answer to... but there was no denying the soggy effect such meteorological events had on me. From when I was young and became aware of this climate phenomenon I was always left peeing my pants. My parents of course were very understanding and simply put it down to the event stressing me out in some way. Trinny’s observation that I was ‘still wetting my pants’ meant that I hadn’t hid that fact very well when at school. This was a surprise because in general, I never got any anguish from wearing at school because I rarely wore padding and didn’t think anyone knew. Shows how wrong I was. There’s no doubt that if thunder was forecast I got quite agitated but mum had read that it might be better for me to confront, rather than hide, from it. Although I’d not been affected for some time, the recent bout of thunder and lightning, especially the tree strike, had had an absurd effect on my mental capacity to control my bladder – day and night. Another thing running through my head: Had I accepted having to wear nappies too easily? I argued with myself ‘No’, because wetting the bed and also unwittingly peeing my pants in the office meant protection was sensible. I’m eighteen so I should be sensible. And then there’d be that other voice chipping in. ‘Yes but you’re eighteen... so shouldn’t be wearing a nappy at all.’ Allowing mum and now my boss to change me... that can’t be right... so why had I consented to the situation without a fight? And that’s why Trinny’s words had hit home “...you always were a little kid.” Is that what all this is about - mentally I haven’t progressed from being a scared three year-old terrorised in a tent in France? Mum, and dad are very loving and the one thing neither Jenny nor I were short of was affection. They praised any of our accomplishments no matter how small and encouraged us in all our juvenile endeavours. When I had first got scared of the storms and wet myself, it wasn’t made to be a big problem. Something easily sorted with a quick wrapping in a nappy. I accepted it then and I accept it now. They’d done it all my life – if I had a problem when a storm (or any other stressful incident) came then some form of protection was never far away. I’d taken it as a practical solution so that’s why I hadn’t hesitated now. I didn’t see it as babyish. Nappies were a comfort and something I could rely on not to let me down. It’s doing so now, whilst sitting in the car on the way to the garden mum’s so keen to see. # The radio was playing when a ‘Golden Oldie’ came on and mum looked at me and enthused. “This used to be your favourite song when you were little. It always got you up dancing and singing along... even though you didn’t know the words.” She smiled and launched into the chorus trying to encourage me to do the same. As I wriggled in my padded seat I felt comfortable and I looked over at mum... the truth was being with her was giving me immense pleasure. It took me back to when I was young and often just the two of us would be doing things together... I’d loved it then as I did now. Here I am, singing to a song that was a childhood favourite, dressed in shorts, a t-shirt and wearing a nappy. So the question has to be asked: Have I grown up at all? My sister at fourteen has happily moved from childhood to teenage siren, taking care to show off her developing attributes and enjoy the change. Whereas, I come home from work (ah yes very adult), change out of my grown up workwear and straight back into t-shirt and shorts and play computer games that I’ve had since I was ten. I don’t like noisy, gun-toting, battle things I prefer gentle games that build or tease. I am just a big kid... and not that BIG either. The thing is... apart from my wayward bladder... I like who I am. I mean, even if I’m wet in bed I’m happy because I’m padded and therefore safe and surely that’s a good thing no matter at what age. That’s the trouble when I start to think... I don’t come up with any answers or solutions to my problems... just more questions. # We arrived at Mansion Gardens and again were met by queues of people out enjoying the sunny weather. However, the receptionist had told mum that the gardens were looking spectacular at the moment and it would be a shame to miss them at their best... so we waited. However, the words of the song I’d been singing along to were still bouncing around in my head, which unfortunately brought Trinny’s words to the fore again only this time as part of that damn song - “You always were a little kid.” Dum di dum di dum... I wasn’t sure what she meant by that. Did she mean I always looked like a little kid because I was slightly smaller than other boys? Did I exude the air of childishness with the way I behaved? Did she know that I sometimes wore padding to school, or that I occasionally had small accidents in my undies? Did she know about my fear of thunder and lightning? Or, was it something else she’d detected that I didn’t know I was doing? What was it about me that made her say those words – we weren’t friends, she hardly knew me? That was a lot of pressure to worry about from a girl I didn’t care about as I was never part of her social group. # A sensed a slight tremble pass up my body as I couldn’t rid myself of that stupid refrain and before long that unmistakeable warming glow filled my M4. I sighed to myself but didn’t want mum to worry about a change so didn’t mention anything as we eventually paid the entrance fee and slipped into the wonderful gardens. I think it was the third glass of OJ making its presence felt. In point of fact, apart from the disposable getting a bit stiffer I didn’t feel any dampness and wandered happily with mum as she gushed over the magnificent displays and intoxicating fragrances. Actually, I’ve stolen those last five words from the guide to the gardens mum was referring to as we meandered around. The expanded disposable wasn’t in the least annoying so maybe it would take another soaking before it needed a change. I was aware of it gripping tightly under my shorts and if I was being honest - it felt really quite nice. Much better than the fabric ones I have to wear at home. I understood mum’s argument about costs but this was more than a treat and would have liked this Abena outing to last for a while longer. Alas, when we go home tomorrow I’ll be back in my usual terry cotton nappy until this current episode of wetting goes away. That got me thinking. This has happened many times before, and my parents have fixed it with either pull-ups or nappies but usually I get over the nightly soakings and then it’s back to tighty-whities, which I preferred to wear for school and now work. Why had they decided that this time it would be longer? I mean mum had bought quite a supply of new nappies and even left some at work... so why was it different this time? Had they noticed something about me that I hadn’t? Was I doing things differently? I thought about asking mum but she was focused on the plant life so probably didn’t want any of my on-going worries at that moment. Besides, despite my distraction, when I did tune back in, mum was explaining about how the gardens came about, the plants from around the world and the ‘Festival of Colour’ they ran every year. I’m sure she’ll come away inspired to recreate some of this in our back garden and liked the possibility of her running her own ‘Festival of Colour’ with the neighbours. # It was late afternoon by the time we got back onto the beach for a few rays. It was still very sunny and warm but the crowds had thinned so we had more space to find the correct place to lay our towels. Mum had decided not to change into her swimsuit so was just wearing what she had for the day but I’d gone back to the room, to get out of my soaked disposable and wriggle into the Speedos. I wasn’t sure if I’d go in the water but wanted to be ready if I decided to. Mum was looking at her mobile and cheerfully told me that had we set off home we’d have been caught in a ten mile snarl up on the motorway. She was glad that we had this extra day here and could take our time driving home tomorrow... thankfully, without Mrs Symanski who was staying a month with her sister. It was nice to have so much space so I stretched out as mum rubbed suntan cream into my back. “I’ve booked us in for a meal at The Plough this evening... that nice girl on reception said they do a very tasty crab ravioli made with locally sourced crab,” she said smoothing in the lotion. “Mmmm that feels... ermmm... sounds good.” I lazily corrected. “Ohh there’s that girl you know again. God her boyfriend is a bit of a hunk isn’t he?” “Mum.” I rebuked. “I’m only saying. She might be a bitch but he’s quite a catch... she’s...” “She’s not coming this way is she?” I nervously enquired without raising my head. I didn’t want to be seen. “No, she’s walking down the beach towards the dunes... I suppose...”she giggled. “Muuummm, stop it.” But I did rise on one elbow and watched her and boyfriend disappear into the sandy slopes. We both grinned knowingly. What a terrible pair we were. # Whilst I relaxed and drifted off mum phoned home to see how dad and Jenny were coping without us. “Very well” was dad’s verdict and said we should go away more often as the place was a lot more peaceful. I’m sure there were a lot more triviality’s that a husband and wife indulge in but I was in a very nice drowsy state and enjoying the still warm sun spreading its glow across my back. In that strange half-awake/half-asleep state I suddenly found myself on the dunes with Trinny and her boyfriend. At first they looked at me in disgust because I was only wearing a nappy... a very fluffy, thick nappy the likes of which I’d only ever seen the Fairy Liquid fairy wear. Their anger at being disturbed quickly changed to one of mock friendliness and I was encouraged to join them. Of course, I thought they were just being friendly so I did. Trinny was stroking my chest and saying what a sweet baby boy I turned out to be, whilst her tough but handsome boyfriend was snuggling the back of my nappy and rubbing himself up against it. I wanted to speak but she slipped my thumb between my lips and told me to relax they’d take care of baby. There were kisses on my back and neck from her boyfriend and she was gently stroking the front of the thick fluffy nappy. “Yes our little baby is soooo cute isn’t he?” It was a rhetorical question as they both continued to paw me. The thing was I quite enjoyed the attention. “Maybe we should adopt him and keep him nice and safe in his nappy.” She continued saying stuff like this to her boyfriend who was getting excited round the back. I could feel something prodding and pushing past the fabric. “Mmmmmmm” was the hunks entire contribution to the conversation. I was dumb but excited as she began to unpin the nappy. “Let’s get our baby ready shall we... he might be wet and...” At that moment I could feel my bladder fail and I looked down and embarrassingly saw my fluffy nappy turning yellow. Also at the moment I actually woke up face down to feel mum rubbing in more suntan lotion... and me peeing once again into my Speedos. “Are you awake Anthony... you’ve been making quite the most disturbing sounds?” “Um, er, yes just having a strange dream.” “Well, that explains it. Are you alright your body seems to have flushed a bit red?” I knew it wasn’t something I could hide but at that moment I didn’t want to reveal I’d wet and orgasmed in my little nylon swimming trunks. If I turned over now mum would see my shame. I could always rush to the sea and plunge in. Yes... that seemed a great idea but thought I’d wait a bit until mum was distracted and then I could saunter down without her being suspicious. After a few minutes she was back Googling or reading something on her phone so I discreetly got up and wandered down to the water’s edge. It felt colder than last time but I knew I had to submerge myself if I wanted to wash away the damning evidence. I took a deep breath, there were after all several younger kids splashing around not bleating about how cold the water was. Anyway, with a deep breath I plunged under and as the water rushed over me, I rubbed at the front of my Speedos desperate to remove any proof of my dreamy indiscretion. I stayed submerged for as long as my breath would hold and when I resurfaced the sea didn’t appear as cold as I first thought. I swam around for a bit enjoying the experience and when I did finally decide to return to my pee-soaked towel who should be walking up the beach but the ‘terrible two’ baby-snatchers. For some stupid reason I was angry at them about what had happened in my dream. As she walked past, they didn’t notice me at all. They were so into each other I doubt that I or anyone else registered in their little sex-filled world. As she passed by I saw that she hadn’t pulled her bikini bottom up correctly and flapping at the back like a beacon was a used condom. I chuckled because others were noticing but I wasn’t going to inform them... I mentally wished them well. # Stupidly, when I returned to my towel mum had of course noticed the huge wet stain. “Were you going to tell me?” I looked a little ashamed. “It was the dream I was having.” She put her arm around my shoulder. “Look love, these accidents are happening more and more and there’s not a thunder storm in sight, maybe it’s time we went to see someone about it... hmm?” I stood shivering, though it wasn’t from the cold, so wrapped the pee-soaked towel around my shoulders. I wondered who we’d be seeing but she didn’t take it any further. “OK, it’s getting late so, why don’t we go back to the room, you can have a nice long soak in the bath and then we can get ready for our walk to The Plough. Does that sound like a plan?” I nodded, just glad that she didn’t ask about my dream but I wondered what the sounds were I’d been making that drew her attention in the first place. She was also correct about me wetting more... was it getting worse or was it just that...? A shiver ran down my spine and not from the cold. Thankfully, I had the towel to hide under as another spurt of pee rushed into my little nylon Speedos. I think mum’s point had been made. # # # ...to be continued 6 2 Link to comment
maly Posted October 27, 2020 Share Posted October 27, 2020 Thanks for another great chapter. Maly. Link to comment
Les Lea Posted October 30, 2020 Author Share Posted October 30, 2020 Part 9 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 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 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 because 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 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 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 we 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 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... 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 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. # # # ...to be continued 3 2 Link to comment
maly Posted October 30, 2020 Share Posted October 30, 2020 Hmm wonder what the doc will have to say. Thanks. Maly. Link to comment
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