An Old Problem 1-24

[Sarah Penguin]

10 hours ago, maly said:

Hmm wonder what the doc will have to say.

Thanks.

Maly.

I think he will be diagnosed to have absorbed too much levels of lightning mana in that massive nearby giga-strike.  His body is trying to dump it using emergency uncontrolled ever time it happens.  But as he has grown and matured his to store mana has increased  but heeds to  find a way to control the release of his overflowing mana pool consciously and knowingly given his massive mana input channels..  But that requires not a shrink but the training of a wizard, who learn how to control their mana consciously in their apprenticeships. So he's  going to Hogwarts!

[Les Lea]

Part 10

Checking out time was 11.00 and after a very nice cooked breakfast we were on our way home by 10.45. Of course I’d woken up absolutely saturated so after a ‘shit and shower’ mum slipped me into a fresh disposable plus those very ‘robust’ rubber pants and I was ready for whatever the day threw at us.

“We can take our time getting home and there’s that new Outlet Shopping Centre on the way so... how about us trying to find you some trousers for work?” Mum enthused but I also suspect she fancied the idea of a bit of retail therapy for herself.

“Sounds ok,” I wasn’t as keen but, as this summery weather wouldn’t last for ever, saw it as probably a good idea to try and find something other than shorts to cover my padding.

Despite it being well past rush hour the roads were quite busy, I suppose Monday mornings always are but it just surprised me a little. I think, not being a driver (never felt the need to learn) I just noticed the traffic more. Anyway, by noon we were pulling into a parking space in the ‘green’ parking section of the Centre which also looked busy. My heart sank a bit because it was a much larger structure than I’d envisaged and was hoping we’d be in and out in minutes. It didn’t look as if that was going to happen.

As we walked in one of the many entrances it proudly proclaimed ‘over 100 outlets, 6 screen cinema, 20 restaurants, children’s play area, etc, etc.’ this was definitely not my favourite way of spending a day off. However, mum wanted to see the lot and I just knew her credit card, and quite possibly mine, were going to get a bashing today and she was very eager to get started.

#

Three hours later we trundled back to the car laden with bags of stuff. I think mum had dragged us into just about every shop and had bought stuff for Jenny and dad as well as me and herself. I hated having to try things on but realised, because of padding, it was no doubt better for me to at least see if they fit before buying anything. I hated queuing for the changing rooms, especially when mum insisted I come out and display how it all looked.

She’d pat, grab and smooth items down as I uneasily paraded in front of her and she’d give me her opinion. Occasionally, other customers might be looking on and no doubt a few noticed I had some sort of padding. No one said anything but there were a few strange looks. Strangely enough, a lady around Mrs Symanski age, and oddly sounding like her, expressed her opinion that I was ‘a well-behaved and lovely little lad’. Mum smiled and nodded at the old lady but didn’t put her right. I was too gobsmacked to respond.

I tried on what felt like several hundred pairs of trousers in several different stores before she gave me the thumbs up. So, I bought two pairs, one in black the other in dark green. However, I did indulge myself because one of the Outdoor retailers dealing with walking, camping and promoting a healthy explorer lifestyle was having a sale and I bought a couple of very hardwearing camping shorts to add to my collection. They looked particularly sturdy with pockets and zips everywhere. I was quite pleased that I’d found a bargain and therefore it justified this horrendous shopping trip.

Then of course with my purchases done I had to wait whilst mum tried things on and that seemed to take forever. She seemed to know dad’s taste and style so would just grab clothes for him without a second thought but was more meticulous in what she found for Jenny.

Our last stop was a huge pharmacy though we didn’t spend too much time searching for stuff. It appeared mum had pre-ordered for us to collect (no wonder she spent so much time looking at her phone) and I only wished she’d done that with everything. Anyway, there were two extra-large packages for me to carry back to the car.

The boot was crammed to capacity so thank god we didn’t actually have Mrs Symanski because together, her and her suitcase would have made it impossible to fit everything in.

 “So, what have you been buying?” I enquired as I squeezed the last package in as best I could.

“You said you liked the Abena disposables you’re wearing so I thought, as they’re cheaper here than anywhere else I’ve checked, we’d get a few in for emergencies.” She said matter-of-factly.

I just nodded but was really quite pleased and then for the first time since we’d arrived at this Retail Plaza wondered if I was still dry. I wasn’t, I was soaked through but the thick rubber pants had held me so tightly I wasn’t aware that the M4 had expanded.

“Mum, I’m wet.”

“Do you want to go back in and change in the washroom?”

“Actually, no, I think that’s enough of that place for the time being. Let’s get home and I’ll make do until then... I’m sure it will all hold.”

“If you’re sure... it’ll take us an hour, an hour and a quarter.” Mum shrugged and we set off.

Mum turned on Radio 5 to hear their discussion on current topics and I began to wonder just why mum was stocking up on more padding. There was something else mum had observed that I now began to zero in on.  It was something I thought quite odd - why was I sucking my thumb and crying when a storm came? Then another bizarre thought struck me – why did I keep ‘tasting’ the orange chocolate crème?

Even though me and mum had a fantastic time over the last couple of days and discussed quite a lot, there were areas of my old problem that I was still quite vague about. I assume that’s why she wanted me to see Doctor Ames again, to get to the bottom of it. That journey home certainly gave me a lot to think about.

#

As we unloaded the boot mum split the packages and told me which to take up to my room... that included the two big packs from the pharmacy. Jenny met us at the door, she was still wearing her school uniform so might have just got in herself and thanked mum when handed a couple of bags from trendy stores.

She said that dad planned to be home for 6.30 and had already started preparing a meal for us all. That’s Jenny, never one to let the grass grow under her feet, she simply sees what needs to be done and gets on with it... much like mum.

By now my wet nappy was uncomfortable so wanted out of it as soon as I could. I rushed up to my room, laden with my purchases, and threw them on the bed thinking to sort them out later. Of course, either Jenny or dad had been keeping up with the washing and there already was a stack of clean fabric nappies piled up on the top of the chest of drawers... a smaller pile of coloured plastic pants were shoved on top of them. I hadn’t realised I’d needed so many changes before our weekend away. Thank heaven for the M4s and we weren’t bringing back any soiled nappies... I know I’d have used quite a few.

The wardrobe had mirrored sliding doors and I caught sight of myself and thought the blue shorts were not hiding my expanded padding at all well. I unzipped and let them fall to the floor revealing the shiny rubber pants that had swollen considerably so I must have wet more than once on the way home. However, I had to admire their glossy sturdiness because they did look pretty effective and quite racy.

Racy, erotic, stimulating? I don’t think I’d ever thought of nappy covers in that way before. I’d always been grateful to them for stopping any leaks and bolstering my confidence but perceiving them in this way made me stop and wonder – what am I thinking? There was suddenly a throbbing extra bulge under the soggy disposable that needed consideration.

Too late, mum came in at that point and said how cute I looked. It was the type of thing she often said after I’d been changed. I think, over the years, this was partly so I didn’t get a complex about having to wear protection and it had just become second nature. I’m not sure she meant a great deal by it.

“I have to say,” she said sliding her hands over the glassy rubber surface, “these do look a lot more durable than the plastic pants I bought in the sale. I’m glad I’ve invested in a couple more pairs for you.”

I thought about asking her ‘why’ but that would be silly as she would simply point out the super-soaked disposable I was wearing and know without asking that I had no idea I’d wet so often. I needed as much protection as I could get... well at least until I’d seen the doctor.

“Sweetheart, let’s get you out of this wet disposable and into a nice dry fabric nappy... oh... do you want some time on your own?” She asked seeing the small but unmistakable bulge, “I can come back later.”

Although I was embarrassed mum had seen it I can’t say it was the first time. Mum had been changing my nappies when needed throughout my eighteen years and she’d seen me in just about every state possible. My little dick wasn’t going to embarrass her and I desperately did want to just ignore it as I’d prefer to be into something dry.”

#

There was a large bath towel folded at the bottom of my bed which I spread out. Mum was checking the pile of clean nappies and deciding which to use, whilst at the same time grabbing pins and lotion she’d need. I pulled a box of wet wipes from the bed side table and then slowly dragged down the thick rubber pants. The disposable was in a terrible state, I’d worn it to such an extent that it had become crumpled and saggy making me look like I had a deformed extended crotch. Not a good sight.

By the time we’d pulled all the items together and I was laid out on the towel naked from the waist down, my awkward demanding dick had returned to its usual mouse-like state and mum could get on with the clean-up.

It felt strange to be back in a fabric nappy but it was welcome as mum shuffled a pair of see-thru plastic pants that had a loud crinkle when slipped into place.

“These are noisy.” I said running my hands over the glassy material.

“Are they, I hadn’t noticed,” she had a thought. “Maybe because the rubber pants were noiseless these appear noisy... just a thought.”

Mum might be right.

Anyway, she helped me up and as per usual patted the back of my slippery padding as I made my way over the chest of drawers to get a pair of shorts. I had a quick search and settled on a pair of pale blue Adidas but before I could clamber into them mum turned me round to face her.

“Thanks for this weekend Anthony... I really enjoyed spending this much time together.” She had a lovely grateful look on her face.

“Same here mum... it was great fun... if a little bit wetter than I’d hoped.”

Mum’s face changed to one of concern.

“Has any of that worried you too much?”

“Not really, it’s just, well, I know I need all this padding and when I’m wearing it I’m very grateful because I know it will stop any embarrassing displays on my part. I just wish, well, that I was over all this by now.”

“I know love... I’ve always been grateful myself that you’ve never let it get you down. But you know we are worried that witnessing that strike might have set you back but... you’ve coped with it remarkably well. However, kneeling up at the window and not being aware as you fill your nappies... is a departure from the norm so that’s why we want you to see Laura...erm... Doctor Ames.”

“I understand mum and I’m with you 100%... it would be nice to get to the bottom of all this. In the meantime,” I said opening up the shopping bags and taking out my new trousers. “I can hide the incriminating evidence under these for the near future anyway.”

I opened the wardrobe and hung everything up.

Mum beamed her support. “OK, let’s see what Jenny and your father have been up to.”

#

Dad had said he’d managed to get an appointment with Doctor Ames at 3.30 Friday afternoon and would that be convenient. I told him that I’d check when I got in to work but usually Mrs Dewhurst was OK with doctor’s appointments although that it also depended on how busy we were. The upshot was, Friday was OK and I could leave work early - no problem.

In fact, the following week was as nice as last week weather-wise but thankfully, our area of the UK had no thunderstorms. However, I was still wearing nappies to work and wetting them all the time but only had Mrs Dewhurst change me a couple of times. She seemed happy to do it, I think she missed doing it for some reason... perhaps her daughter had got control back and I’d become a sort of substitute.

She seemed really happy to see me back and I’d only had the one extra day off. I think she was more keen than I was to get me into a dry nappy and I was quite amazed at how organised she was. Despite that, she took her time and made each element of the operation just perfect; making sure the wet wipes weren’t too wet, the anti-rash cream was enough and not too much talcum powder. She arranged the nappy ‘just so’ and made sure I was comfortable and that it hugged me correctly before finally pinning me in. To be honest, it was a bit more attention than I expected or wanted but she did it with such affection it wasn’t something I felt able to complain about.

It became easier because Mrs Dewhurst was spearheading a new project for which Phil in our office was writing the programme, whilst I, and Debby in the London office, were doing the online tactical and response work; finding any gremlins, faults, offering feed-back and other uses for the finished programme. Mrs Dewhurst was coordinating firewalls and the security element and looking to other areas of the company where her latest creation would be of benefit. It meant that we spent quite a bit of time working together both in her office and out in the main area.

With the summer days still being pretty hot I was wearing my new ‘Outlet’ inspired purchase of lightweight but weather protective shorts I’d bought from the outdoor store. It said they were not only 100% nylon but had a water-repellent coating of the fabric, which they proudly proclaimed - allows the wearer to avoid the effects of rain during outdoor events. I thought that fact might come in handy if I had a bit of an accident. However, they hid my padding exceptionally well and, whilst sat at my desk in the layers of padding, I felt very confident that, even with crinkly plastic pants underneath, my secret was safe.

As usual I was enjoying my work and constantly glad, despite the wet nappy, that I’d managed to get myself a job where I was excited every day to be there. I was a very lucky boy.

#

At 3.20 Friday afternoon I was in the waiting room at the psychiatrist’s office. Mrs Dewhurst had been insistent that I not miss a doctor’s appointment and had let me go at 3.00. She wanted to know if I needed a change before I went and I did... so I arrived fresh and dry.

Dr Laura Ames and a group of other medical and psychological practitioners had the entire ground floor of the block where dad worked. He was on the top level, Level 9, where the company he worked for had that entire floor as well. Dad played golf with Dr Ames’s husband and they had been to our house for a meal on occasions.

Other than the last time I visited her when I was seven, medically, I’ve had nothing to do with her or her husband who is also a doctor. Socially, we’ve seen each other around but other than that.... not a lot.

I was a little nervous; after all it had been some time since I was last her patient. As I sat waiting I felt that slight, nervy shiver run through my body and realised I’d wet my fresh nappy. Thank heaven Mrs Dewhurst had changed me otherwise I might have leaked had I kept the previous one on... and then what would the good doctor think if I dribbled all over her office?

The thing I didn’t know until later was that she knew all about my problem because my parents had kept her up to date over the years... at a social level. So when she eventually asked me to sit down in her office I thought we’d be starting from scratch... we didn’t.

“Nicer office than last time we talked.” She was smiling encouragingly obviously aware that I was more than little apprehensive.

Her room was nice and tastefully decorated with nothing too outlandish or that cried out ‘Head Doctor - Run Away’.

Mmmm, and a nod was all I could add in agreement to her opening gambit?

Although, surprisingly, now I was with her, I did remember quite well, the room when I was seven. It was a pokey little room with loads of cartoon characters and toys scattered around. It was part of the Children’s Hospital and there were colourful walls which had a huge mural of rainbows and baby animals painted across two of its surfaces.

Still I was here now and I’m not a kid anymore so didn’t need toys to get me to chat. Well I hoped not anyway. I smiled to myself as I thought about it and she caught the emotion.

“Well Anthony... your parents have told me some of what’s happened but I’d like to hear it from you... if that’s OK?”

She was quite direct. I thought I’d have to go through my history but she seemed to want to start from where I was now.

“Erm.” I was a bit stunned as to where to start. “What have mum and dad said?”

She reeled back a bit on the probing, noting that I was taken aback by the sudden launch into my ‘old problem’.

“Before we get into what they said... how about you tell me about this.” She pointed directly at the bulge under my shorts.

“Oh, that... you can tell... erm... I wet myself and I don’t know I’m doing it.”

She let that statement hang for a few seconds and then followed up in a very quiet voice.

“Does that worry you?” Her enquiry was gentle and interested and didn’t seem in the least bit invasive.

Although, this wasn’t what I was expecting at least she didn’t ask “And how does that make you feel?” Well, I suppose she did but at least it sounded like a friendly question rather than a psychoanalytical one.

However, she was a woman in a position of authority and had asked a question so had to answer honestly.

“No.”

She raised her eyebrows and smiled.

“Thank you for being honest... let’s see if we can continue that way shall we?”

I didn’t see I had any alternative. She already knew all about me thanks to mum and dad, and, I’ve never seen the point in lying... that’s also thanks to mum and dad (remember the one spanking I’d ever received?).

“Sure, what do you want to know?”

Even as I said these words another shiver ran through my body and this time I felt a stream of pee gush into my rapidly soaking material. I just hoped the see-thru plastic pants would be sufficient.

I tried not to be scared but was worried what the clever Dr Laura Ames might notice.

# # #

...to be continued

[Sarah Penguin]

[maly]

Thanks for the new chapter.

Maly.

[Les Lea]

Part 11

Dr Laura Ames continued like we’d known each other for ever. She was friendly but strangely I still felt like the nervous seven year-old I’d been the last time I saw her. We talked briefly about that time and what I’d been doing but of course she mainly wanted to know how many times I’d been affected by thunder storms since that session.

Too many to list was the true answer.

Her manner was very relaxed and only asked questions for clarification. When I looked back I found myself surprised at just how often mum had put me back into nappies when I started wetting the bed again. I also mentioned that at sixteen, when I’d got a job, I had the need for some extra night time protection “...but only for a few anxious weeks” I was at pains to explain.

For some reason I thought this was not connected to the other times and spoke at length to make sure she realised that.

The conversation went on and the time simply flew by but I became conscious that my nappy kept soaking up more and more as I dribbled into it throughout the session. It was more like I was an incontinent three year-old rather than a seven... er... I mean an eighteen year-old.

She asked me about the last thunder storm I was affected by at the weekend and as it was still fairly clear I was able to relate what mum had told me about sitting transfixed at the window and watching its progress.

“Mum said I just looked out on the horizon and, although my eyes were open, I seemed oblivious of anything around me.

“Do you only remember what your mother told you?”

“Yes, I didn’t know what I’d done until I woke up and saw mum had put me in extra padding because she said I’d soaked what I usually wear at night.”

“Usually at night?”

“Hmmm, yes, well, erm, since the, ummm, I started wetting again mum’s put me back into nappies at night but, more recently, I’ve had to wear them all the time as I leak.”

“OK, that’s interesting... well, we’ll come back to that... anything else?”

“She did say I was making little crying noises and sucking my thumb.”

“Do you normally suck your thumb when a storm comes?”

“Well, apparently, the last couple of times mum’s seen me I have... but I can’t say I’ve never done it before, I just don’t have any recollection of doing so... apart from when I was three.”

I guiltily laughed at the memory of sucking my thumb that very first time because mum didn’t have a dummy as she comforted me throughout the storm.”

“Do you remember if you did it or did your mother encourage you...?”

“No, I was three, I just remember being scared of the thunder and everything else I’ve just assumed or what I think mum’s said rather than what I remember. So, I don’t know... I just think my thumb soothed my panic. Oh!”

For the first time I’d made a link and one that the doctor had expertly led me to... I was still behaving like a frightened little three year old.

“And when you were three who saw to your wet pyjamas?”

“Mum.” I answered ruefully.

“Did mum make it better?” She said softly looking into my eyes which were welling up.

“Yes, she cleaned me up and held me throughout all the terrifying noise until I fell asleep.”

“Do you think that’s what’s happening now...?”

“I, I don’t know. I mean, I’m eighteen I shouldn’t need...”

“Should or shouldn’t doesn’t come into it...”

“But,” I said positively, “there have been other storms around and I’ve not needed, er, wanted, erm, um... thought about that.”

We paused a moment as I thought about the situation and I could feel my soggy nappy getting cool and not nice to wear.

“OK, so why do you think you now have a thumb in your mouth?”

I pulled my thumb away in horror but a string of drool was still attached. I hadn’t even realised what I was doing. I felt like a silly little kid but she didn’t appear worried so moved on. I recognised that orangey taste again but didn’t know why.

“Perhaps the lightning strike you witnessed has in some way made you recall what took place when you were three and that first experience of a scary storm.”

“But why would that happen? I mean, I work, I function, I’m an adult...”

“But still you’re wetting yourself and don’t know you’re doing so...”

She rested a hand on my arm to let me know she understood.

“There’s no reason why you can’t function as normal except that, as happened in the past, your brain currently isn’t sending any adult messages to control your bladder.”

This didn’t seem new news but hearing her say it out loud made it appear more definite and true. But why?

#

“But why?” I cried and could feel my eyes filling up.

“That’s what we need to find out.” She looked at her watch, “But that will have to be another session as we’ve run out of time. Make another appointment at your convenience with the receptionist. Meanwhile, are you wet now?”

Laden with guilt and shame I nodded.

“We have disposables if you would like to change in the bathroom.”

I was embarrassed and tearful, which was silly after all that we’d been talking about but the nappy was very uncomfortable.

She led me to the rather large private bathroom at the side of her office and, I don’t know where it came from, gave me a Tena pull-up.

“Do you think that will do until you get home?”

I nodded and besides, I had plastic pants so that should stop any leakage.

I pulled down my shorts and saw the bloated nappy under its glass-like cover. It seemed to take me ages to wrestle with the pins before I was able to release the heavy saturated bundle from my crotch. I threw it in the sink and pulled some paper towels from the holder and wiped myself dry. I looked in the mirror at my dark sobbing eyes and thought I still looked more like a badly aged three year old than my real age.

Once clean it took me a little while to get round to pulling the pull-up up. Laura Ames asked if I was OK or did I need some help. At that moment I was a little shaky and uncoordinated so would have loved some help and for a grown-up to take charge. It was then I realised what all this was about. It had taken speaking to a psychiatrist for me to see things, obvious things, a little clearer.

I slipped the plastic cover over the Tena and pulled up my shorts, splashed my face with cold water and thanked the doctor as I headed home, wet nappy in my backpack. However, there was another realisation lurking at the back of my mind and I wanted to sort that out before I saw the doctor again.

#

All the way home on the bus I kept thinking how all this wetting was obvious. The storms somehow make me regress to that very first time. But is that true? I mean, it may happen now but over the years there have been many storms and I’ve not resorted to sucking my thumb or mewling like a baby... haven’t I?

I know I’ve not told mum or dad every time I’d had an accident in my pants because it wasn’t always that obvious. So there were times when I kept quiet and simply slid the offending stained undies into the laundry. What I couldn’t pretend didn’t happen was the fact that I still had mum change me once I’m wet. It had never really occurred to me until the doctor pointed it out. I needed my mummy like I had when three years old... and over the years, that hadn’t changed.

I examined myself on the bus and did a quick inventory; lack of stature and body hair, small penis, prefer shorts and still wearing a nappy. Yep, that sounds like a little kid. I hadn’t developed since I was a small boy, I still am a small boy... then how the hell did I get a job? That’s the difficult thing to rationalise... or was there no connection... they were two different parts of my character?

I mean, would I have gone for it without the encouragement of my sister?

Doh, probably not.

When I thought about it, even though I’m the older brother, I’ve always acceded to Jenny. She’s always been my best playmate, best friend and apart from mum and dad, the one person of whom I still take most notice.

I mean, my job has a woman in charge and that woman is now changing me when I wet. I didn’t know exactly what mum and Mrs Dewhurst talked about, all I know was that it ended up with her agreeing to change me if I wet in the office. How easily I’d slipped into that comfort zone but then why had she so easily agreed to it... surely we can’t all have some kind of ‘mummy complex’? Oh, this was annoying. The more I thought about it the more stupid and unreal the situation seemed and yet... here I was.

#

The journey home wasn’t long enough for me to sort my ‘old problem’ out but the more I thought about it the more I realised just how long I’d relied on nappies to help me over those periods of anxiety, which is what I put my incontinence down to.

Once back I called out a “Hello” to anyone who was around but I only got a muted response from Jenny who was on the phone to her friends. Mum and dad weren’t home yet so made my way to my bedroom and stripped down to my Tena, which I could tell under the glassy cover was still dry. This was something I couldn’t explain as I’d been pissing myself almost non-stop in the doctor’s office.

Of course I’m used to seeing myself dressed in such a way but I was trying to get angry about it, or at least find some negativity but I couldn’t... under the present conditions, this was what I needed. I began to think that perhaps I should wear jeans or jogging bottoms to cover it up but I’ve never found them as comfortable as an old pair of shorts. So I grabbed another pair from my Adidas collection and although they bulged out a little I thought looked fine. At home I’d never been embarrassed by being well-padded or that anyone might notice.

Jenny was still on the phone, had the TV on low volume but was still watching some programme or other. I wandered into the kitchen and saw that she’d already started getting the meal ready. I was carrying my soaked nappy that I’d changed in the doctor’s office so shoved it in with the rest of my ‘to be washed’ pile next to the machine. I grabbed a Coke from the fridge and returned to the living room to watch a bit of TV with my sister. However, she’d finished on the phone and watched as I sat down but she was quickly in.

“How did it go with Laura?” First name terms, perhaps more had gone on between our families than I realised.

“She was OK I guess, got me thinking but...”

“Wasn’t that the idea?”

“Yes, but I don’t think I’m cured.”

I could see her eyes flick down to my padding which had crept down the leg of the shorts.

“No I can see that but surely you didn’t expect to be so... ahhh,” She saw the smile on my face, “you’re having fun at my expense.”

“Yes I am,” I grinned but then got serious. “Can I tell you something...?”

She smoothed down her dress and her boobs seemed to push themselves forward as if I should be addressing them.

“Erm, as we talked about it... I just couldn’t stop peeing into the Tena. I mean, I had absolutely no control. So, by the end I was saturated.”

“So you’re saying that even talking about it sets you off?”

“Yes but, and get this, I changed at the office to a pull-up...”

“Did Laura change you?” She added with a bit of devilment.

“Good God no I... oh.... so you’re getting your own back and having a laugh at my expense.”

“Got it in one... see bro there’s nothing wrong with your sense of humour.”

“I never thought there was.”

“Well why then are you looking so fed up? Mrs Woodward my teacher says ‘If you’ve got a sense of humour, you’ve got the answer to any problem’.”

This was the first time I thought my sister sounded her age. Repeating a pleasantry her teacher had probably said in a throwaway moment in class – humour wouldn’t solve this wetting problem.

She wasn’t done. “You’ve had this problem all your life and I’ve never once seen it get you down or all that worried and yet you are now.... why?”

She made a good point but the thing was if I didn’t know when I was pissing myself, it was obviously getting worse.  

“Because I think I’ve lost all control and, although a nappy copes with the outcome, it doesn’t bode well for my future if I’m still reliant on one for the rest of my life. I need to get back control. I mean, I’ve had it after storms in the past but now...”

My voice tailed off as she came up and put her arm around my shoulder.

“You’re my big brother so no matter what... I’ll still love you.” She then kissed the top of my head like mum would do and I was grateful for her kind words. However, I suddenly realised that my Tena was now soaked and I could see the expanded fabric pushing out the glassy see-thru plastic pants under my shorts.

“I just need to get back control.” I whispered forlornly more to myself than Jenny.   

#

Back in my bedroom I didn’t change just waited for mum to come home. Off course, when we set off to the coast with Mrs Symanski I was convinced I could control my bladder and wouldn’t need any protection. Mum, on the other hand, came prepared and knew what I needed even if I didn’t. Thankfully, I liked the M4s and it turned out just as well because my constant leaking cock definitely needed heavy protection if I wasn’t to embarrass myself further. Mrs Symanski knowing my old problem wasn’t yet cured was more than anyone needed because I knew she’d make that into one of her long-winded anecdotes.

Mum and I had touched on this control issue whilst away, but I was at ease with how things panned out. I let things go, and so did mum, because it was just that... easy. We were enjoying the weather, the seaside and each other’s company so we concentrated on that.

As I’ve said before, mum and dad never made my ‘problem’ an issue, it was the way I was and it could be solved quickly and without ceremony or fuss by the addition of night time protection. Once that was in place, to all intents and purposes, the problem was resolved. Except, I’d now hit a different level, a more advanced level, so that conundrum needed to be sorted before it became something I couldn’t influence.

I don’t like thinking about me, it seems quite an indulgence and it’s something I’ve rarely done. I tend to just go along with things believing that others know best, or certainly better than I do. Teachers never got a squeak out of me and nor has Mrs Dewhurst except there I’m part of a team and I have put forward my ideas and been encouraged to develop them... so perhaps I’m not so reticent after all. However, that is definitely a new development on my part though doubt if they are in any way connected.

Another thing I’m a little confused by (and as you can see there are a few ‘things’) is why mum bought all those disposable Abenas. I mean, she’d been dead against disposables for a long time and yet she’s stocked up on some because (she says) I said I liked them. Why then send me to a psychiatrist to help me over it all... and still have a huge supply of the things?

I suddenly thought that mum didn’t believe I could change, that I was too nerdy or fragile and I’d always need nappies. I got myself into a state believing my parents had all but given up on me and became quite annoyed and fraught.

All these different thoughts were spinning around in my head and I felt quite sick and unbalanced by the whole thing. I wished it would all go away but wishing wasn’t going to help. I ran my hand over the squishy fabric and experienced two sensations at the same time – disgust and comfort.

#

Doctor Ames had certainly made me address several things and I didn’t like it at all.

I was sat on my bed when mum came in.

“Anthony I... what on earth’s the matter sweetheart?” She immediately saw I was perturbed and in need of some reassurance.

“Why, why, did you buy all those disposables... don’t you think I can get control back?”

“Oh sweetie. I’m sorry if it seems that way but haven’t I always said ‘Hope for the best but prepare for the worst’?

I buried my head in her arms as she gently rocked me.

“I’m hoping against hope that Laura can help and if she can, how long it will take we don’t know. I’m not sure she can sort things out like that (and she clicked her finger). However, you seemed so happy wearing these new disposables and I thought, if you have to wear nappies for any longer I want you to be just that... happy.”

She stroked my hair then patted my spongy bum.

“I have total faith in my boy... I always have.”

She hugged me some more.

“Look if it’s upsetting you then you don’t have to see her again it’s just, well, we think you might be happier if we find a way over this... anxiety.”

“No, no mum, she’s not upsetting me but, but, I’ve never had to think like I am now and consider things I’d just sort of let slide.”

“Well,” she said pulling me up to face her, “she seems to be doing her job but, I can feel my boy needs a change so let’s get you into something dry and then I’m sure things will seem a bit clearer... or at least not as soggy.” She smiled at her weak joke and pulled off my shorts.

#

Mum has never shirked from changing my wet nappies. All through my life, when I needed a nappy there was one available and when it needed changing, she got on with the job without any fuss.

“I see you’ve got a pull-up on... is that from the doctor’s?”

I nodded.

Well let’s get that off and into something dry and then you can tell me how it went.”

She went to the dresser drawer and pulled out an Abena disposable.

“Shall we try one of these? I’m sure you’ll feel much more comfortable.”

I nodded enthusiastically...then had a thought.

“It’s OK mum, I’ll do it myself,” and held out my hand for her to pass it to me.

“Are you sure sweetie I don’t mind?” She didn’t look convinced or was she sad that I wanted to do it?

Whoa... is that it? Mum had enabled me all this time because she liked to...? No, it was a stupid thought. Why would mum want to keep me in nappies, it just didn’t make sense. However, now that thought was in my head... it was taking some shaking.

“Well, if you’re sure,” she beamed in support. “Five minutes and dinner will be ready.”

Once she’d gone I stood in my wet Tena and although knew this was something I could do, I was sad that I’d dismissed mum. She always did it with such love and care. I nearly called her back but didn’t and eventually struggled with the tapes a few time to get it to fit properly.

Whilst there was a pile of freshly laundered colourful plastic pants I wanted to ‘get back to basics’ though I wasn’t sure why. I searched for an opaque pair of plastic pants, pulled them up, looked in the mirror and it hung reasonably well. Although the padding around my bum seemed a little more puffy than usual I didn’t mind. This time I consciously dragged my jogging bottoms over it all and set off to the kitchen where Jenny had prepared our meal.

#

As we ate I brought the family up to date on my session with Laura Ames and we exchanged thoughts and areas of chat for my next visit. I told them I hadn’t as yet booked a second session but they all encouraged me to get one sorted as soon as possible ‘whilst I had momentum’.

No one said anything about my cover up but the crinkle as I moved about seemed a lot louder under my jogging pants than it ever did whilst wearing shorts. That surprised me.

After we’d eaten dad was helping Jenny with her maths homework, he’s a whizz with numbers, which I think is where I get my interest from and why, as a result, a computer is more than a games machine to me. In fact, no matter how brilliant the graphics are, or hectic the storyline is, it’s the mechanics of computing that I find more fascinating. Anyway, whilst I helped mum with the washing up it gave me chance to quiz her further about Laura.

“Mum just how well do you know Doctor Ames?”

“Quite well, why?” She carried on washing the dishes whilst I wiped them dry.

“She said she knew about my problem.”

“Well you saw her when you were seven and was a child psychologist at the hospital. We were worried then that the storms had a strange effect on you and, at the time, she helped you through your anxieties.”

“Yes, I remember all that but she seemed to be bang up to date on my more recent problems.”

“Ah yes, that will be me. You know her and husband Peter are clients of your father’s?”

“No I didn’t.”

“Well, I don’t suppose you should really but we’ve been online friends since you were her patient and because of that connection and your father’s, we chat online and on the phone occasionally.”

“Was it you or her who suggested I should make an appointment?”

“I assume it was me simply because I’d mentioned the latest development with you on our last call and she seemed interested. I was worried it might turn into something more serious because, whether you’re aware or not, you’ve never lost control of your bladder like this before.”

“Mmmm.” It was as if mum had said those magic words ‘lost control’ because I suddenly realised I was leaking into my M4. At this rate I’d be using up that supply she’d got pretty damn quickly.

“Will you be speaking with her tonight?”

“I can do if you want.”

“Erm, Um.” Without warning I was suddenly engulfed in tears. I had no idea where they had come from but suspected this was something I’d held back in the doctor’s office. Unexpectedly, my body shivered and I felt like I had no control over anything

Mum was quick to hug and hold me saying not to worry, we’d sort it all out and other comforting phrases. I believed her.

Mum spoke into my hair as she reassured me.

“I’ve said it before... and we’re all in agreement... you’re safe with us sweetheart. You don’t have to be anyone but yourself. We’ll do what we can to help so no matter how long it takes... your family will be right by your side.”

“Mummm,” I sobbed, “why have I regressed to a baby who can’t...”

“Oh darling... you’re not a baby and it doesn’t help if you think in those terms. You’re an adult who just happens to need a nappy for the moment. You’ll get better... you’re just having some problems at the moment...”

I’m sure there were another few words mum was going to add but I needed her cuddle more than I needed pleasantries.

“Thanks mum.” I squeezed her tightly.

She squeezed back and it was at that moment, stood in the middle of the kitchen, I did something I hadn’t done for years... I let out a startled stifled groan whilst filling the back of my new Abena.

# # #

...to be continued

[Pierry Louys]

Poor Antony sometimes you don’t really know what you really need !! 

[Sarah Penguin]

Poor kid.

[Eagle0769]

Poor guy I feel bad for him. I wore diapers for years and wanted someone to take care of me. Now that I'm older I have to wear diapers at night and pull ups during the day not that I have a choose now. I'm still hoping to find a care taker to take care of me. All my stories on this site years ago were my dreams of someone taking care of me and me taking care of mommy.

Great chapter great writing. 

[maly]

Poor Anthony, but at least he has a loving mummy.

Thanks for the nice long chapter.

Maly.

[Les Lea]

Hi everyone - many thanks for your comments I hope you continue to enjoy Anthony's strange and ever-changing life. ?

 

 

Part 12

I don’t know who was surprised more by this sudden and copious expulsion. Of course, it had been accompanied by an almost silent wet fart but mum knew immediately what had happened.

“Oh sweetie... this can’t be good.” She hugged me tightly and another splurge was forced from my bottom and into the shitty fabric.

“Muummm!” I sobbed. “This can’t be happening.”

“Don’t worry love... just make sure you finish and everything goes in the nappy, we don’t want any further accidents.”

I think she knew I’d not make it to the bathroom in time and wanted to keep the ‘fallout’ to an absolute minimum. I felt stupid standing there with mum clasping me to make sure I finished crapping in the disposable.

The feelings of helplessness and shame rushed through my body. I was only glad that dad and Jenny weren’t witnesses to this latest incident. Although how I thought I’d be able to keep it a secret is anybody’s guess.

I wanted to run and hide my humiliation but I couldn’t move. The stuff kept pouring out and I had no response other than to stand and wait. Mum checked that the plastic pants were keeping everything where it should be as slowly I started to spread my legs, desperate for the fabric to soak up as much as it could.

I’d had no warning and there was no thunder in the area. I didn’t think I was all that anxious even though I’d spent a lot of time thinking about my situation. Surely just thinking or talking about it couldn’t induce such a response... could it?

I wondered if I’d been more scared of seeing the psychiatrist than I thought and this was the result. I hoped not because they were all keen that I should continue with therapy.

Shaking in my mother’s embrace I eventually told her I didn’t think there was any more.

“Are you sure sweetie?” She had the same tone as when I was younger and had an equally messy accident.

I nodded but was far from convinced that was the end of it.

“OK, can you walk to the bathroom and we’ll get you sorted?”

She let go and I stood traumatised for a moment transfixed by the weight of stuff that now hung in the heavy folds of the absorbent fabric. My rear felt like it was loaded with a couple of pounds of lumpy mashed potato as slowly, and very deliberately, I waddled after mum. Each step reinforcing the disgust I was feeling and the horror waiting when she pulled down my plastic pants. I’m sure neither of us was looking forward to that.

I kept mumbling ‘sorry, sorry, sorry’ from behind my thumb, which I hadn’t realised was occupying my mouth. Mum gently eased it away and, as I stood in front of her, I’d never felt more like a three year-old then I did at that moment.

Although earlier I might have wanted to prove my independence to put on and take off my own M4, I was reluctant to push for that. Mum didn’t ask, once she could see I was standing in the shower stall and any drips would be caught she pulled down the plastic pants. The glossy material held but was streaked with overflow, and in trepidation she tugged at the tabs.

The mess and stink were horrendous as the entire construction slopped onto the tiled floor. I could hardly look her in the eye as she grabbed the shower hose and started to spray the various bits stuck to my body. Shaking with embarrassment I watched mesmerized as the sludge slithered down the plughole.

I took quite a lot of cleaning up... as well as air-freshener sprayed around in the bathroom... before there was a return to any kind of normality.

#

There was absolutely nothing I could think of to say by way of explanation. I’m not sure I could have rectified the situation so was glad mum had been there to take charge. In those terrifying moments I realised how dependent I was on her for just about everything.

As I’ve said before, she’s not one to make a fuss but certainly on this occasion I would have been totally lost without her. I wouldn’t have known where or how to get started and suspect I’d be still standing there, nappy even fuller, wondering what to do.

Once I was all tidied up and back in a fresh disposable I tried to make sense of it.

“Mum, I don’t know why that happened... I had no warning... I...I... just... erm...”

She’d searched through the top drawer where my plastic pants were kept and found another pair of those rather thick rubber pants I’d worn before.

“No sweetheart, I’m not sure either but,” she had me step into them then inched the rugged fabric up my thighs and over the M4, “let’s make sure if it happens again we’re prepared eh?”

I merely nodded as she patted out the trapped air and smoothed the slick white material into place.

“There, they should do. Now, are you coming down or staying up here?”

I was grateful she’d let me wear a disposable because normally for bed I had to wear a terry cotton nappy. At least she could simply throw this away should I have another catastrophe. I’d hate to think how many times a fabric nappy would need washing to get that much crap out. Although as I thought about it, mum must have had to do so on quite a few occasions in the past.

“I think I’ll stay here but please don’t tell dad or Jenny... it’s so embarrassing.”

“To be honest sweetie, I don’t think it’s a secret... that smell permeates the entire house.”

I sighed. That’s all I needed... being responsible for creating a big stink.

#

It was still relatively early. The summer sun was slowly sinking but the pale blue, cloudless sky seemed to bring out the crowds. I could see from my window that the lightning struck tree had created an attraction because a few people had gathered to inspect the damage. It was then I noticed the orange tape surrounding it so perhaps it was too dangerous to get near.

A couple of joggers looked pretty bright as the setting sun caught their day-glo orange vests and shiny black lycra shorts. A few of the neighbourhood kids were out on their bikes, whilst Mrs Johnson and Mrs Ramrish were chatting and guiding their babies in push-chairs side-by-side down the road. In fact it was quite a busy evening with people everywhere but my eyes returned to the broken and splintered tree in the distance.

For the briefest of seconds I literally had a flashback – I relived that strike hitting the tree, bursting into flame and that intense rumble that surrounded the house. It all happened in a moment but I could feel my disposable having to work soaking up the deluge I’d just made.

However, even though I thought it had all happened instantly it was night outside, the people had gone and only pale darkness illuminated the gloom. I had no idea how long I’d been standing there until I heard dad’s voice quietly ask if I was doing OK.

I shook myself and tried to say something but it just came out as garbage. It was then I noticed I had my thumb stuck in my mouth so couldn’t speak properly.

“Yumsh... shess...mmmmussssm.” was all I managed.

Dad seemed to understand. “OK, night Anthony, sleep well.” He closed the door and left me to my thoughts.

Where had all the time gone?

Despite the expanded bulk of my disposable I didn’t feel like changing so crawled under the bedclothes and had no recollection of anything else.

#

I woke up grateful I’d had an uninterrupted sleep but with the taste of orange in my mouth. I had no idea what time it was but my face felt strange lying on a damp surface. It took a couple of seconds to take in the fact that my thumb was still embedded between my lips and a pool of drool was the culprit.

I withdrew my digit and stared wondering why I’d started sucking on it. It was wet and slippery but I was enthralled. So, as I used to do when younger, speculated on whether by sucking on it you can make it smaller – like a lollipop?  Also, did I somehow have the residue of something orangey still on it? I reached under the cover and inspected the billowing disposable hidden under those sturdy pants and thought no matter what time it was – It was time for a change and I should get up.

I glanced over at my bedside clock it was just after eight and I could hear family moving around.

I carried the soaked pillow to the windowsill and hoped, if I left it, that the sun would dry it out before I needed it again, then turned and shuffled towards the bathroom. Jenny was just coming out of her bedroom heading in the same direction.

Suddenly it turned into a competition as to who could get there first. Even though it was little more than a couple of yards we both wanted to win.

“Ant stop,” she screamed horror struck, “what’s that hanging from your nappy?”

She looked scared so I immediately halted to inspect what had frightened her. As I turned to see what was trailing behind me I heard the word “Sucker” as she disappeared into the bathroom and the lock slip into place. She’s such a clever kid because that was a distraction I’d never have thought of. Mind you, she doesn’t wear a nappy so it would have been a pretty stupid thing to say.

I know from experience that she was going to be in there for quite some time so toddled back to my room and stared out the window.

#

It was another glorious day but in the distance I could see workmen and they were assembled around the tree. They’d cleared a large area as a safety measure and for some bizarre reason I thought they were giving the tree some protection... like my nappy is mine... the barriers were for its benefit. Daft I know.

However, it soon became clear they weren’t there to shore up the tree but to bring it down.

The men wore hi-vis jackets and I could see a couple of them had chain saws, whilst the others had ropes. There were four of them and a truck with a flashing hazard light parked nearby. It suddenly became more than a simple truck as some machinery started and a ‘cherry-picker’ began to rise up.

I wondered if the tree had become unstable because the night before I’d noticed several branches lying on the ground. I hoped no one was hurt when they fell. Anyway, it looked like my lightning tree wasn’t going to dominate the view for much longer as the men immediately attached ropes to branches and began the work of lopping at various tentacles.

Because of my connection with it I had thought I’d be emotional... but although I felt something, I just wasn’t sure what.

#

Mum shouted from downstairs that breakfast was ready so reluctantly I left my post and headed for the kitchen. As it was Saturday mum had made a lovely cooked breakfast but was surprised to see I’d arrived and sat down wearing only my bloated padding.

“Spending the day like that?” She nodded her head in the direction of the substantial package between my legs.

“Nah... Jenny’s in the bathroom...”

“She isn’t. She left about thirty minutes ago.”

“But it’s only eight....”

“No sweetie... it’s twenty past nine... where have you been?” She asked concerned.

I was taken aback to say the least. Loosing track of time and having no memory was becoming too regular an occurrence.

“Oh, I’ve been distracted by the workmen, you know, over by the tree. It looks like they’re cutting it down... maybe it’s a hazard or something?”

“Are they? I wondered what that distant buzzing was... that’s a shame it was nice to have a talking point.” She shrugged.

I wriggled in my seat and could feel the bulky full cushion under my bum was more than a little squishy.

“Any plans for today?” She came and sat down and the two of us tucked into a ‘Full English’.

“Not really, thought I’d nip over and watch the men... see what they do with the tree.” I smiled because I knew one thing for certain. “I expect Mr Bennet will be there stocking up on logs for his wood-burner.”

Mum gave out a laugh. “I bet he’s not the only one, no matter what time of year they’re obsessed with collecting wood for the winter months.”

She’s correct. Any time the wooded area had a branch fall there’s always someone out quickly to harvest what they could get. Sometimes it’s funny to see a person arrive with their wheelbarrow a little late then leave looking pretty angry and frustrated.

“You got any plans?” I ventured.

“Just more laundry this morning,” she pointed out the window and I could see the first batch already hung out. “I’ve put Jenny’s bedding on as well so that, together with your nappies and stuff... makes a large load.”

I didn’t say anything because even though it might sound like mum was having a go at my contribution, she wasn’t. I could tell by the tone she was just stating a fact.

“This afternoon I’m meeting up with some of the girls for a coffee... might recommend that hotel we stayed in last weekend.” She ventured as another forkful off egg, beans and bacon disappeared into her mouth.

“The ‘girls’ meant, the ladies from the book club mum’s a member of. I’ve met them at a get-together they had at our house and a noisy, boozy but fun quintet they are too.

“Dad...?” I ventured.

“Playing golf over at Pannal... a client’s invited a few from the firm so don’t expect him back until later tonight.”

“Oh very nice... I wonder just how much business gets done at each hole.”

“Well he says it’s the best office in the world for finalising details.”

#

I finished my breakfast and washed up whilst mum attended to the next load for the machine. By then the Abena was beginning to get more heavy and uncomfortable but oddly I didn’t mind the weight as it hung, thanks to the rubber pants, firmly to my hips. However, I waddled back to my room and stripped leaving the rubber pants and my soaked M4 glued together on the floor as I went off to wash. I was surprised when I thought about Jenny and how absorbed I’d been in the workmen I hadn’t heard her finish.

Anyway, it was my time now and I enjoyed the firm flow of the shower as it cleansed my body and perked up my spirit. I’d been under the spray for some time so when I returned to my room mum had tidied up. Gone were my used disposable and rubber pants, and laid out on the bed was a large terry nappy and a couple of thick soaker pads. I was going to wear one of the Abenas but obviously mum thought I’d be better off in a fabric nappy.

Mum waltzed in carrying a plastic bag.

“These are replacements for you to take into work and give to Mrs Dewhurst. If you can put them in your bag now so you don’t forget.”

She then proceeded to slide them in herself. I watched but said nothing. Strangely, the shower had left me invigorated and felt there was now a purpose to my day.

“Right, nappy...” Mum said in a ‘let’s get on with it’ way.

“I was going to wear a disposable today... I thought it might be too hot to wear a fabric one...”

“Well, if that’s what you’d prefer, fine. But, after last night, and your soggy disposable this morning, I would have thought you’d want as much protection as possible just to make sure.”

Mum was correct of course. Despite knowing what I’d done I wasn’t thinking what I’d be like if it happened again.

She saw hesitation and simply indicated I should lie out and let her get me wrapped and ready for the day. No fuss, though I could feel the way the extra padding splayed out my legs. She went to the drawers and pulled out a couple of pairs of plastic pants for me to choose.

I pointed to the blue pair so that’s what was shuffled over the huge pillow hugging my groin.

“OK love, that’s it for now. Are you going out or...?”

“Actually, whilst in the shower I’d had a thought about one of the projects I’m involved in at work. I spent most of yesterday thinking about meeting with the doctor I didn’t get much done. So, I might spend a bit of time on my computer catching up and see if I can come up with anything.”

“Well, that’s very admirable... I’m sure Mrs Dewhurst will appreciate your diligence.”

I smiled at mum’s praise but really, I couldn’t have gone too far with the thickness of the padding... I’d have been sweating like a pig in heat... in the heat, so this seemed like a sensible way of spending my Saturday.

#

Despite my intentions of going to see what the workmen were up to, once I opened the computer I became gripped by the way my mind was working. I was eager to produce something grown up. I didn’t want to play games, surf Google or look up my favourite sites. Once I’d opened the page and reread the brief for the new office project I set to work.

Although the padding was huge I was very comfortable sitting and working. The room was pleasantly warm and although the plastic billowed out a bit I flattened out the air, which was becoming a bit of a game in itself, and I was back in my comfort zone. I didn’t even bother with any shorts and, to the accompaniment of the distant buzzing saws, set my mind in work mode.

Each little movement had the effect of reassuring me of the extra padding’s presence.  With my legs wide open the smooth plastic bulge was a beacon to my hand as I stroked and fondled the area as I worked. This was a lot better than sucking my thumb but didn’t detract from the task. I found the activity and the fabric comforting and inspiring.

Despite the distance I was from the tree I could hear voices, yells and the occasional crash as branches fell to earth. Mentally I could imagine the tree being pruned down bit by bit. The different sounds the machinery made as it cut deeper or at an angle, although loud, didn’t disturb my concentration.

I hadn’t done a great deal of coding but I saw where I might help by changing the ‘sorting valuation’ and one or two other small changes, which I hoped would improve the system. There was also a batch of historical files that needed a storage space, so I gave that some thought.  I hadn’t realised how long I’d been working on it until mum came in and asked what I wanted for tea. Thankfully, mum’s big breakfast had seen me right through and I hadn’t even stopped to drink or go to the toilet.

That was over six hours non-stop intense work and I had no idea where the time had gone. I guiltily looked down at my nappy, surprisingly it was dry. I’m sure, with all the inadvertent massaging I would have been aware had I wet but, none of that worry had entered my head as I’d become preoccupied with the project.

Although I didn’t think I needed to go I slipped along to the bathroom and, after a bit of faffing around, managed to pee into the toilet and not the nappy. I had needed to go because the power and length of the stream proved my bladder was full. Still, this was the first time in ages I’d been able to negotiate where and when I wanted a piss.

I returned to my room feeling cocky at this new development and looked out the window to check what was happening in the world. It was still hot and busy but the tree had all but gone. It was strange because the constant buzz of the saw had been a background noise to my work and seemed to spur me on.  

Without getting up to check I just imagined the tree being cut down piece by piece and bizarrely, that made me feel different... like... as the tree came down I was developing in some way. Stupid I know but I’m getting strange and miscellaneous feelings a lot these days and wonder if that’s down to my daily padding.

Now all I could see and hear were the workmen using the shredder to get rid of the small branches and leaves but the trunk had been reduced to a mere stump.

I sighed but, maybe this was a sign. I could now go to the loo when I felt the need – so that was definitely some kind of progress.

I began to think what the tree looked like before and just couldn’t bring that image to mind and it was with a sense of relief I returned to my computer. Perhaps the tree had signified something and now it was gone. Well?

I emailed Mrs Dewhurst the file and then downloaded my work onto a memory stick as back up. I was quite pleased with my day’s work and smugly slipped the colourful flash drive in my backpack alongside the change of nappies mum had already shoved in there. Hoping, come Monday morning, my efforts would be both appreciated and successful.  

I wasn’t wet and I’d done some work... so not a wasted day. I was pretty impressed with the fact I wasn’t soaked so, after slipping over a pair of my loosest shorts, joined mum out in the garden to take in the lovely late afternoon sun.

#

Jenny was saying how upset a few people were that the ‘lightning tree’ had been cut down by the council. It had become a bit of an attraction and kids seemed to like playing around it. Unfortunately, as a couple of branches had broken off it had been deemed unsafe and, fearful of injuries and being sued, the decision had been made that it had to come down.

Mum asked what I thought, seeing as I’d witnessed the dramatic strike, but I simply shrugged.

“If it was a danger I suppose it’s for the best... safety first?” I cheerfully patted my bulging nappy to emphasise the point for some reason. I couldn’t explain why I felt relief because I was sure it had nothing to do with the danger it posed in that state. It felt like some kind of mysterious oppression had been lifted.

Mum agreed – safety first but she was also a little sad that it had gone.

“I’ll tell you someone who’s very happy about it... Mr Bennet... he was asking the workmen to leave the heavy branches...” Jenny looked mischievously as she spoke, “they let him take a few logs but I think he wanted the entire tree.”

We all had a giggle at Mr Bennet’s expense.

Mum then looked over at me.

“And how has your day gone?” She peered at the bulge under my shorts. “Did you need any extra...?”

“No, no... still the one from this morning... and still dry.” I said with some degree of accomplishment.

Her eyebrows raised. “Well that’s some achievement isn’t it?” Both mum and Jenny nodded impressed and I felt pretty pleased with myself as well.

#

Sunday morning I woke to discover another surprise, I wasn’t wet. There’s no doubt that my mind had had a sort of ‘jolt’ and, without any real reason to do so, put that down to the tree disappearing. The pleasure I felt at waking up to a dry nappy was immense and made me snuggle down in my warm bed to enjoy the sensation a little longer. The plastic pants were warm and smooth as I ran my investigating hands over the padding feeling every soft bump and enjoying doing so.

Over the years I’ve worn padding many, many times but it was only at that comfy, dry and richly-padded moment that I appreciated actually having to wear it at all. Although I try to be a positive person in all things, this was perhaps the first time I thought this huge cushion of security meant more than I’d acknowledged in the past. I was positively glowing from within at having to wear such an item. Normally I just see it as something I needed to wear but now there was a shift in my thoughts. Because I wasn’t wet I felt I was in control.

Early morning euphoria filled my entire body and I don’t think I’ve ever felt more tranquil and alive at the same time. It was a brilliant emotion and one I didn’t want to break by getting up. Then dad knocked on my door and asked if I was ever going to get up. I didn’t want to but remembered I’d agreed to mow the lawn and help him in the garden... so had to get a spurt on.

Of course, as soon as I thought about moving, and I knew my bladder needed emptying, I let loose and soaked the thing... but on purpose. The knowledge of what I was doing made me smile guiltily as the warm piss filled the material and soaked around my cock, balls and arse. The feeling just got better... I was in control. However, that orangey taste returned and I wasn’t sucking on anything.

“Morning sweetheart.” Without knocking mum bounced in with her usual happy demeanour and asked if I was wet.

“Yerrrr, ‘fraid so.”

“So, nappy or disposable today?” She obviously wanted to get things underway so she could then start on her projects.

“It’s OK mum, I’ll sort myself out.”

She looked surprised but suppose knew I was hiding a warm, wet nappy and didn’t want to embarrass me any further.

I mean, there had been a few times over the years when I’d peed just before I’d woken up and the freshness of such a wet nappy looked like I’d done it on purpose. Who knew I’d actually done so this time?

“Breakfast is on the table and your dad wants to get things started as the forecast is for rain later.”

“OK, I’ll be down in a minute.”

#

It was nicely warm as I ventured out into the garden wearing a freshly, self-applied Abena, twinned with see-thu plastic pants under my khaki shorts. I quite liked the slight crinkle as I walked though it wasn’t as cumbersome as the previous day’s nappy. Dad had got the electric lawnmower ready and was pottering around in the vegetable patch under the watchful supervision of mum. Jenny’s full social calendar meant she was off somewhere with her army of mates, probably making all the boys drool.

The pleasant sensations running through my mind and body were giving me the best temperament ever. Even better than walking along the cliff tops with mum, I just couldn’t understand why I suddenly felt this elated.

Understand, I’d gone to the toilet when I wanted, I’d wet my night time nappy when I wanted and I was wearing a disposable, which was what I wanted. And yesterday I’d even put in a full day’s work on my day off, which I wanted to do... everything seemed to be working for my benefit and that had left me exhilarated. It meant, for the moment at least, I could do without wearing a nappy but... wanted to.

The only time I’d ever come near to feeling like this was when I received confirmation of getting the job. However, that had its own affect with me then spending weeks wearing protection. It didn’t feel like that on this occasion... I had a choice.

As I paraded up and down the front lawn pushing the mower I felt strangely at peace. The noise was a soft electric motor drone, which, together with the rubbing of my plastic clad thighs and gentle hug of the M4, was giving me a pronounced waddle and sway to my own rhythm. Every now and then, as I turned to cut in the opposite direction, my shorts would catch a slight breeze and send a ripple of cool excitement up the legs.

I finished the front and, after a bit of more intense micro clipping of the hedge, was pleased with the result. Mrs Johnson, still guiding her baby daughter, who I think is called Sandra, stopped to comment.

“Well Anthony, that looks like a job well done.”

“Thanks, but I have a very demanding boss... she’s not one to let me slack at all.” I replied with a smile that I hoped said I was only joking.

“Is your mother around by any chance?” She queried.

“She’s out the back planting winter vegetables with dad I think... would you like me to get her?”

“No, it’s OK...”

“It’s no trouble it will only take a few...”

“Well, in that case... Yes, please I’d like some advice on Alexandra (not Sandra)” Her eyes indicating the sweet, dummy sucking baby in her stroller.

“I won’t be a minute,” and pushed the lawnmower back around the corner and told mum she had a visitor.

“Oh, OK, I wonder what she wants.” She looked questioningly at me.

“Something to do with her baby I think.”

“Little Zanda... has she brought her?” Mum bucked up no end as she hurried round to the front garden.

I heard enthusiastic greetings but set to work on the much larger rear lawn. I rubbed the front of my shorts and felt the smooth bulge underneath - God it was a good day and I felt wonderful yet couldn’t explain why I had such a spring in my step.

Meanwhile, dad had set the ladder up against the security light that had been out for a few weeks now and persuaded me to change the bulb. It was fascinating, just that little extra height and the cooling breeze that whipped around my padded crotch produced a very pleasant sensation.

# # #

...to be continued

[Sarah Penguin]

[Eagle0769]

When I get notices about posts on CD your post is the first one I read.

I love your story its written so well I can read it without wondering what was written.

Before this chapter I thought maybe Anthony had a belly problem because he day dreamed and found he was wet again. 

It sounds like you are getting to the end of your wonderful story. 

Just wanted to let you know I have enjoyed it from the beginning. 

[maly]

Thanks for another great chapter.

Maly.

[Les Lea]

Thanks Sarah for your encouraging ?

Eagle0769 - That's a terrific compliment for which I am very grateful. I hope you enjoy the rest of his nappy journey.

Maly... a continued huge thanks for your constant (and very reassuring) comments.

A huge THANKS and Hugs (when allowed) to everyone that reads my stories and I hope to keep you entertained for a few more chapters yet.

Les

[Les Lea]

Part 13

 

As dad predicted the weather changed just as we put the finishing touches to the garden. Mum was happy the rain would help bed in her latest crop, dad moaned about his back, whilst I was glad to finish the lawn, which looked pretty neat. Jenny, who’d managed to avoid any involvement, arrived home from friends wondering how long until the Sunday roast would be ready. Mum hadn’t cooked.

 

“Just grab what you fancy from the freezer,” she looked around at us all, “that goes for each of you and I’ll cook it when you’re hungry.”

Dad said he fancied one of her homemade lasagne and we all agreed that would be great but, as we were all starving didn’t want to wait. I followed Jenny into the kitchen to get things underway and whilst she searched the freezer I set the oven to heat up. As I bent over fiddling with the temperature and timer I had a sudden childish desire to let rip but wasn’t too sure if it might be more than a fart.

That bloated feeling could so easily be got rid of by a sudden explosive blast, which would be both very relieving and very, very funny. A fart is always funny. However, remembering when I’d filled my pants earlier, and the awful sensation of a nappy full of ‘mashed potato’, made me think again.

Jenny produced a large dish and announced that seeing as we’d all been working in the garden she would attend to lunch. As we stood side-by-side at the oven it was the first time I really noticed she was slightly taller than me and of course, with her fourteen year-old boobs snugly emphasised under her t-shirt, looked like my big sister. I was glad I didn’t fart because next to her it would have made me appear a silly little kid.

#

However, the rain had started lashing down and I had the urge to be out in it. So strong was the desire that after kicking off my trainers I quickly slipped out of my t-shirt and shorts and wandered out into the garden. From worrying that breaking wind would make me appear childish, I’d cast off my clothes like a toddler and raced to be out enjoying the heavy summer shower.

“What are you doing... it’s pouring down?” Jenny cautiously enquired.

I pointed to the Abena. “This is already wet so I don’t think I can make it any worse.”

It wasn’t, I just had the impulse to do something silly and fancied seeing how absorbent the disposable really was.

I’m not sure if Jenny thought I was just being a little eccentric or a complete bell-end but was laughing as I pulled off the plastic pants and stood with my arms out letting the downpour pummel my body.

It was a feeling of complete freedom.

I danced, barefoot around the garden thoroughly relishing the fact I was an eighteen year-old wearing only a saturated nappy... and wasn’t in the least bit bothered.

The freshly clipped lawn felt soft and wonderful between my toes. It was strange because I’d loved the feeling of sand as I’d walked along the beach but this was strangely erotic. Although, having said that, I’m not sure if that word was registering... it felt sensuous... perhaps that’s a better term.

My expanding nappy began to feel heavier but even that was ‘sensuous’, I was having a great time as I slipped, ran and danced across the freshly mown grass.

It was quite exhilarating but when I looked around mum and dad were both at the window looking confused. I’m not sure what thoughts the image of me pirouetting in the middle of the garden had produced but, whereas I was having fun, both appeared a little concerned.

This may sound strange but, for the past few weeks I definitely felt like a little kid because of having to wear a nappy. I’m surely not the only person who, because they have to wear a nappy, isn’t immediately influenced by its presence. However, at that refreshingly damp moment I felt my real age, like a rebellious teen but in total control of myself. As the rain was absorbed so was the bladder full of pee I let loose... what a fantastic dual experience.

#

However, this ‘giddy’ feeling had me wondering – what was going on. One second I’m worrying about appearing childish, the next I’ve cast off any inhibitions and not caring what anyone thinks. Confusing?

As I’ve said before, I’m normally a positive person and came to terms with wearing a nappy fairly easily. Because I’d needed one at various points in my life, so for those times, nappies had become ‘second nature’. Nonetheless, it now felt like I’d been released from some link I hadn’t known I had. My mind had convinced me that I was in total control so therefore could do anything I wanted.

My nappy was just that, MY NAPPY and I could wear it if I wanted, when I wanted, where I wanted... or not at all.

I couldn’t explain why it was that I’d never quite got a handle on putting one on correctly. Like I could put one on but it was never satisfactory and would leak or eventually fall down and become uncomfortable to wear. Mum had never shirked from making sure I was always leak-proof when I had to wear one and so I left it to her expertise to make sure it was on correctly.

It’s only recently that I’ve had to wear one during the day as well as at night but I accepted that need with barely a protest and if I was being honest, didn’t mind continuing that comfy hug.

Nevertheless, I planned on doing a little experiment that night and NOT wear one to sleep in. Of course I’d still let mum put me in my night time nappy because I’m sure she thinks it would be for the best. However, once tucked up and relaxed then I’d slip out of it and see what happened. I was convinced I wouldn’t wet the bed. Then, in the morning when I woke up all warm and dry, I’d slip it back on and let the stream flow – knowing that everything was now under my control.

(All that was going on in my head as I pranced around the garden like some kind of mad gazelle.)  

 

Eventually, the rain calmed, the clouds lifted and the final rays of the day lit up a very green looking garden, which coincided with mum’s lasagne being ready. Alas, I couldn’t just sit down to eat whilst wet so me and mum went up to my room for a quick wipe down and a fresh disposable.

“What’s got into you Anthony... you seem a bit..?” She took control wiping me down with a towel before releasing the heavily rain soaked nappy.

“Frisky?” I said perkily relieved of the weight.

“Nnnmmm,” mum added doubtfully, “more peculiar.” She spread on some lotion.

“It’s been a fantastic day and I’m simply enjoying it... aren’t you?”

“Yes love, yes, it has been a wonderful day...” A shower of baby powder followed and I giggled.

“What did Mrs Johnson want?”

“Ohh, erm, she’d seen those thick rubber pants on the washing line and asked where I bought them as she wanted something similar for Alexandra.”

Now it was my turn. “Ohh.”

I was about to share my underwear with a baby. Well, obviously I mean, figuratively not actually but then I thought more positively.

“Good, that will be very good... then we can play together and not worry.”

Mum looked at me as if I were mad.

For the briefest of seconds the idea of playing with a baby had seemed a really wonderful possibility. Then I wondered myself - What the hell are you saying?

“Only joking,” I tried to cover my embarrassment.

#

She remained silent as she grabbed one of the towelling nappies and picked up a couple of nappy pins.

“Erm, I thought, maybe a disposable for the...”

“There’s no point in getting you ready for bed twice now is there? I might as well get you well-padded and then it’s done and... you’ll be ready for any occasion.” She said the last bit as if there was some doubt.

I thought about arguing but decided better of it as she lay in an extra soaker pad and pinned the thing tightly on. I don’t know why but she seemed angry, well perhaps not angry but definitely uncomfortable and otherwise engaged.

“Mmmm, there’s something going on with you Anthony and I’m not sure what it is. You are... mmm... not always... I mean... not always you.”

I had no idea what she meant as I’d never felt better but she obviously thought differently. I just shrugged and we went down for the meal but not until after mum had reached for those thick rubber pants Mrs Johnson had asked about and had me step into them.

“I hope these’ll suffice.” She said half to herself.

I wondered what was going on with mum... and how had Mrs Johnson seen them out on the washing line? I suspected she and mum must have chatted at some point in the back garden and seen them out drying. I wasn’t happy if that was the case. However, the smell of the freshly cooked lasagne blocked any further thoughts and enticed us to the kitchen.

#

At a couple of points in the evening both mum and dad asked if I was OK about the dismantling of the tree. I mean, why they should have thought it had affected me I didn’t understand but I assured them I was fine.

I saw mum keep checking my bulge as if expecting a problem. I had to admit, with her constant scrutiny I became more and more distrustful about just how thick the padding was and yet, I wasn’t uncomfortable wrapped up so tightly.

Throughout the night they kept staring as if appraising what I was doing... and I was doing nothing but watching TV. After a while I began to feel a bit uncomfortable and excused myself for an early night, after all I had my own plans. I’d worked hard on the new coding and wanted to get Mrs Dewhurst approval for my ‘diligent’ weekend efforts, so getting into the office all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed didn’t seem a bad idea either.

I excused myself, kissed everyone night-night, whilst each affectionately patted my padded bottom as I made towards my bedroom. Normally they don’t bring attention to the fact I’m wearing a nappy so that was different.

I got my clothes ready for the following day and actually thought about wearing underpants... I hadn’t worn my tighty-whities since the accident Mrs Symanski witnessed... I smiled because despite that incident I knew I was in control so had that choice.

I slid under the covers and squirmed around for a while as the rubber slipped over the bedding I gently rubbed the smooth surface deciding just when to take the entire bulk off.

‘No time like the present’ I decided because I wanted to keep it in one piece, after quite a long struggle, I slowly hauled everything down.

Eventually I managed to wriggle out of it and was able to leave it all on the floor next to my bed. I pulled my t-shirt off and lay for a while feeling the peculiar sensation of being totally naked. I rarely sleep without wearing something and this was so different from wearing only a nappy I wasn’t sure I liked it. That didn’t matter as I was conducting an experiment so the quicker I got to sleep the quicker I could prove my new superior control. The room was warm so being naked and only wrapped in a sheet meant I wasn’t fighting the elements and slipped smoothly into the Land of Nod.

# #  #

...to be continued

 

[Pierry Louys]

I think in the next chapter we gonna see the perspective of his mom because i think little Antony is doing more that he saying  rsrs or acting more childish! Great chapter les!

[Sarah Penguin]

[Eagle0769]

Great chapter Les Lea. I hope Anthony's chose to go to bed naked does not back fire. But with his confidence maybe there is a light at the end of the tunnel. 

When you write a story do you write it down on paper correct it as you type it up. I use to do that. Then I would wait a few days and proofread it. 

I love your writing I think you are one of the bests writers on this site. Waiting for your next chapter. :-)

[maly]

It seems Anthony might be regressing.

Thanks for the new chapter.

Maly.

[YourDiapersCute]

Les Lea, I love the story. Just the subtle humiliation contrasted with acceptance is amazing. I also like the way you update the thread's title with each new addition. I'm posting Little Conditions right now and its my first time posting on this site. Could you tell me how you change the thread title? I'm not the most internet literate and this is actual my first message board. Thanks. Keep up the great work!

[Les Lea]

18 hours ago, YourDiapersCute said:

Les Lea, I love the story. Just the subtle humiliation contrasted with acceptance is amazing. I also like the way you update the thread's title with each new addition. I'm posting Little Conditions right now and its my first time posting on this site. Could you tell me how you change the thread title? I'm not the most internet literate and this is actual my first message board. Thanks. Keep up the great work!

Thanks, glad you're enjoying it.

To change the thread title just go to your first page and in the top right hand corner there are three lines... click on this.

A drop down will show the word edit... click on that.

This will give you the chance to make changes where ever you want. Once you've made the change go to the outside slide bar and scroll down to the words  EDIT TOPIC - click .... and the jobs a good one.

Hope this helps and it's great that you are writing your own stories - fantastic.

[YourDiapersCute]

3 hours ago, Les Lea said:

Thanks, glad you're enjoying it.

To change the thread title just go to your first page and in the top right and corner there are three lines... click on this.

A drop down will show the word edit... click on that.

This will give you the chance to make changes where ever you want. Once you've made the change go to the outside slide bar and scroll down to the words  EDIT TOPIC - click .... and the jobs a good one.

Hope this helps and it's great that you are writing your own stories - fantastic.

Thank you so much. I appreciate the help! Can't wait to read your next chapter.

[Les Lea]

On 11/18/2020 at 11:50 AM, Pierry Louys said:

I think in the next chapter we gonna see the perspective of his mom because i think little Antony is doing more that he saying  rsrs or acting more childish! Great chapter les!

There are going to be a few 'unplanned' diversions for Anthony - it's not all going to be plain sailing. However, he's always honest with his mum... some might say, for an eighteen year-old he should not share so easily.

 

On 11/18/2020 at 12:32 PM, Sarah Penguin said:

thanks?

On 11/18/2020 at 6:57 PM, Eagle0769 said:

Great chapter Les Lea. I hope Anthony's chose to go to bed naked does not back fire. But with his confidence maybe there is a light at the end of the tunnel. 

When you write a story do you write it down on paper correct it as you type it up. I use to do that. Then I would wait a few days and proofread it. 

I love your writing I think you are one of the bests writers on this site. Waiting for your next chapter. ?

His confidence is about to take a bit of a shaking.

Thanks for the kind words and I hope to continue to keep you entertained.

On 11/18/2020 at 10:40 PM, maly said:

It seems Anthony might be regressing.

Thanks for the new chapter.

Maly.

Is he regressing or just accepting his lot?

Thanks to you all for your support I'm truly grateful.

[Les Lea]

Part 14

 

The crowds had gathered outside the house as I returned victorious from the Honours Ceremony carrying the ‘Best Ever’ golden award for all to admire. The streets had been lined with a cheering throng as I carried the glorious statuette in the open-topped limo.

 

More applause and whistles grew as I stepped from the car and showed everyone that I was in fact The Best Ever. The ovation was deafening as I walked down the pathway to the front door, bypassing the washing line absolutely filled with my nappies and colourful plastic pants wafting in the breeze. I grimaced when I saw them but the clapping and cheering continued. I took the accolades until the cheering slowly merged into jeering.

 

What the hell was going on?

 

Voices of derision and disapproval were now loud as rotten fruit and vegetables bombarded me and the house.

 

“Quick let’s hide.” I said to no one in particular and tried to make my escape.

 

Just then a huge wad of something soft and icky splattered against my receding backside. Instantly followed by more slushy impacts and someone had turned a hose on me. People were chanting my name but not in a nice way like they had been. “Anthony, Anthony, Anthony you fool”. I was drowning in a sea of garbage.

 

“Anthony, Anthony, Anthony... wake up son... you’re having a nightmare.” I sighed in relief when I saw it was dad but he looked serious and concerned. Then the smell hit me. I’d shit the bed.

#

“Oh Anthony, why did you take your protection off?”

It was mum and I could tell she was not happy. In fact, had I been a kid I suspect I’d have been over her knee getting a firm spanking. It had only ever happened once when I was around eight and had told lies - never again. But now, I was almost in tears like a child and I wasn’t sure from the look on mum’s face she didn’t think it was something I deserved.

“Sorry mum, sorry dad... I, I...” There was a definite sob in my little voice as it drifted into silence.

“Well don’t just lay there... get to the bathroom and clean yourself up. It’s almost time to get up anyway.” Mum was back in charge. “I’ll be there in a minute to check.”

I looked down at myself and the bedding and everything was absolutely covered in shit and piss. I’d never made such a mess in my life and I had no idea why I had now. I kept saying to myself I had it under control. Wasn’t that what the ‘award’ was for?

I was confusing my dream with reality but the confused and upset look from both mum and dad had me worried.

“It’s like when he was three.” I heard mum whisper to dad as she set about getting me up.

After a while she said “There’s something going on in that head of yours Anthony and I’m not sure what but...” She paused as if taking stock and reassessing the state I was in. “I think we’d better get in touch with Doctor Ames and see if we can’t get you an urgent appointment.”

She showered me, scrubbed me and showered me again to make sure there was no trace of my nightmare. This wasn’t the loving mum, the caring mum I had in the hotel bathroom... it was the officious mum who didn’t take any nonsense. Whilst she got me ready for work I was unsettled by my own mother as she grabbed at the various creams, powders and double fabric nappies she had every intention of making me wear.

Actually, it wasn’t so much mum’s attitude but more my shame and feeling I deserved her disapproval. I felt small and stupid and as always mum was right to chastise me for thinking otherwise.

“You need to be aware of your protection young man; with the way things are... I just don’t know what you were thinking taking it off.” She looked at me as if I had the answer but I was so intimidated I couldn’t do anything but acquiesce to what she did.

My great experiment to prove I was in control now just a mess of my own making.

She tried to pull up the tough rubber pants but the nappy was too bulky so she went to the chest of drawers and pulled out a massive pair of clear plastic ones. These slipped over with a loud crinkle but hardly any trouble.

I was shaking like a naughty two year-old and feeling like one but trying to hide it. How could I have been so irresponsible? Just what had gotten into me?

Of course I wasn’t fooling anyone and saw that mum noticed I was a little scared of what had taken place. Her features changed from obligation to concern and patted my naked leg in reassurance.

“OK, I think shorts will be better today even though it’s a few degrees cooler you should be alright.”

Like a little boy I stepped into my new hiking shorts without comment. She was correct they did hide things better than my long trousers but there was still no doubt what I was wearing underneath. I didn’t want to go to work.

“Mum, can’t you phone in and tell them I’m sick?”

“You’re not ill... so I’m not lying to Mrs Dewhurst and I’m surprised at you Anthony, especially after all the work you put in on Saturday.”

Yes, mum was correct again, I wasn’t sick just confused but proud of the work I’d done and should be there to see my boss’s appreciative face.

Despite wearing a nappy mum had never babied me or made me feel I was a burden, no one in the family had. Yet, these last couple of weeks had affected me in ways I wasn’t sure... except for my total acceptance of having to wear a nappy. I’m eighteen so that cannot be right but here I am... the padding felt huge.

“Look, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again – if you don’t make a fuss about it,” Mum said pointing to the shapely bulge, “no one else will even notice.”

#

All the way on the bus journey into town I could hear the thick padding crinkle and creak. I had to sit very still so as not to draw attention but I could see some school kids look around wondering what that sound could be. I think a couple of older ladies knew and sat smugly in their knowledge. When I got off I could see their smiles and bright eyes... I might have made their day.

When I got into work I noticed a few of the team grouped around a computer and laughing. I wondered what they found amusing but had no time to find out as I was quickly beckoned in to Mrs Dewhurst’s office.

I thought she’d be impressed because of the file I’d sent but she looked shocked and serious.

“Anthony, what was the file you sent all about?” She asked in a very worried manner.

I perked up. “Yes, I spent all day Saturday on it. It’s a new idea I had to make things work better around here.”

“Really, in what way?” I could see her brows furrow quizzically.

“Well, as you can see...” I went to her computer and there on the screen was the open file. “There is...erm... I... ummm... what’s this?”

“It’s what you sent me.”

There on the screen were just a bunch of childish rhymes. Nothing to do with me and certainly not the clever improvements I’d made to help...

“No. I mean, I’ve never see any of this before. I mean, I don’t, I can’t, err... wait.”

#

I emptied my backpack out on her desk and the new nappies, pins and associated paraphernalia dropped out as did the USB flash drive.

Pointing at her screen I looked as shocked as she’d been.

“Look, I don’t know where that came from but this is a copy I’ve brought from home of some coding for...”

I was sweating and my stomach was churning, I couldn’t understand what was going on. It must be some joke by one of the team who’d found out about...

I plugged in the USB, brought up the file and nervously clicked to open. There were the same group of ‘poems’ that she’d just read. I couldn’t understand it. I knew I’d written code and come up with some fantastic changes that would help the entire office but no... all that was on her screen were stupid, childish rhymes.

Mummy and daddy have often said

 

A boy my age shouldn’t wet the bed

 

But if he does there is a solution

 

To a room full of his pollution

 

Grab a load of thick, thick wadding

 

Making sure he wears plenty of padding

 

Just to ensure there is no seepage

 

Plastic pants prevent childish leakage

 

####

 

Mrs Dewhurst is so kind

 

She cleans me up, powders my behind

 

She spreads the cream so nice and thick

 

Around my balls and along my prick

 

Then at last to make me happy

 

Pins me in a lovely thick nappy

 

####

 

Thank you, thank you to my boss

 

She cleans me up when I’m at a loss

 

The sagging load that she sees

 

To her is just a simple breeze

 

Mummy brought in a thick, thick nappy

 

To make her boy once more happy

 

Clean and tidy she satisfies my need

 

Mrs Dewhurst is very nice indeed

 

####

 

 

 

“How much coding have you done in the past Anthony?”

“Not much I, er, ummmm...”

“I haven’t noticed you coding much before....”

I felt that familiar tremble, the one I thought I could control, run through my body.

“I’m sorry Mrs Dewhurst I don’t know what’s happened. I’m sure I’d...” and then right on cue I felt my bladder let go a stream into the bulky padding. “Oh no... not now.” I whined.

It took a second or two for Mrs Dewhurst to realise what was happening.

“Anthony, are you peeing your pants?” She seemed concerned.

The trembling increased as did the force as I continued to empty my full bladder. I merely nodded I didn’t know what else to do.

“OK, let’s get you changed quickly before anyone is any the wiser.”

#

I was stunned into silence and became incapacitated so she had to take charge as I was in no fit state. In fact, the truth was I was trying not to cry but the tears were streaming down my face and my thumb made its way between my lips. Mmmm that ‘taste’ of orange again.

Mrs Dewhurst seemed to know that I was going to be next to useless and simply got on without my involvement. She pulled me from behind her desk, unzipped my shorts and as they fell to the floor asked me to step out of them.

Through my voluminous clear plastic pants she could see the fabric turning yellow and asked if I’d finished yet. I shook my head no. She went and retrieved a towel and wipes from a desk drawer... I was just about empty on her return.

“OK Anthony I’m going to...”

At that moment there was a quick knock on her door and a few of the ladies came barging in and saw me standing in just soggy protection and polo shirt, which hardly hid anything. On this occasion Mrs Dewhurst’s door was not the impenetrable barrier it was meant to be.

“Oh no, no, no.” My mind silently screamed.

“Ah Paula,” Gillian said, “we’ve all read Anthony’s, erm... revealing poems and think you shouldn’t have to bear changing our sweet little pants-wetter alone.” She didn’t wait for a response from either of us. “In fact, Deidre here has organised a quick rota for all us girls to take turns. We feel you have enough to do without taking sole responsibility for Little Ant and you know he’ll be in good hands.”

Oh God, I must have copied everyone into the email, shit. ‘Little Ant’ – ‘Pants-wetter’? I wasn’t sure I liked being called that but there was nothing I was going to do about it.

“I have to say Anthony the way of revealing your problem is very unorthodox but we want you to know... everyone here will be supportive.”

I was looking to Mrs Dewhurst to say or do something but they weren’t giving her much of a chance to argue. Meanwhile, I stood immobile and dumb sucking my thumb as the small group of determined ladies stepped forward.

“You’re very brave,” Gillian shook her head as if to say she couldn’t believe I had to put up with this iniquity, “to be living with this, um, problem. We hadn’t realised that the lightning strike you told us about had had such a devastating effect and that Paula here was helping you through it. No need to keep it a secret any more... we’re here for you.”

She smiled a very understanding smile but I was left wondering what the hell was happening. Of course, I was still too dumbstruck to voice any sort of panic.

“We knew there was something going on and your email confirmed it... a sort of plea for help and understanding...” Brenda, the other lady's voice trailed off as she looked to Paula for confirmation.

I think perhaps for the first time in her career Mrs Dewhurst was uncertain of what to do. She’d been caught off-guard but it appeared these ladies only wanted to help out.

#

They looked concerned but despite that ‘understanding’ took great delight in patting my thick soaked nappy perhaps pleased to enjoy my total humiliation.

That silent but loud voice in my head was still screaming “NO” but doing nothing to stop what was happening.

I trembled some more but the fact I was standing in heavily soaked material left no doubt in anyone’s mind I needed a change.

“Oh yes... he is a little wet isn’t he?” Gillian looked from me to Paula and Brenda then back and smiled.

“You’ve been the subject of much speculation sweetie.” She had that knowing smile on her face as she inspected just how wet I was. “For the past couple of weeks, your lovely padded little bottom has had us all talking... and wondering. Now, after reading your lovely little poems and seeing for ourselves just what a damp little fellow you are. Well it all falls into place... it all makes sense.”

I couldn’t react. I mean the words were there but unable to come out. Just what had they been speculating about?

“OK Brenda... you’re first.” Gillian indicated the other’s in her posse should come in and get involved. “That’s a stroke of luck the nappies and stuff are already here on the table.” She ran her hand over them. “Ohh yes very nice, soft and thick... mmmm... better get crackin'.”

Oh God... was this really about to happen... please no... stop... the protest was... silent.

 

Gillian left her two lieutenants as I suppose she went to report back to the rest of the team.

Brenda and Deidre stayed in the room and it seemed Deidre couldn’t wait to pull down my plastic pants and unpin the sopping wet nappy. I just stood there dumbfounded and sucking my thumb.

“Well good for your mummy because she’s got her little soggy-boy all nicely padded... we’d better do an equally good job hadn’t we?”

“No, no, no.” Silently circled my brain.

This was incredibly weird. I’d been sat next to this woman for almost eighteen months and never in all that time would I have anticipated her to react this way. I mean, she was always, well, pessimistic... expecting the worse. Now she was alive and enthusiastic.

Deidre pulled away the soaked fabric and smiled at my nakedness. “Mmmmmmm” she purred, “what a sweet little willy, just as I imagined.” She looked over grinning at her eager co-conspirator who nodded in agreement.

I was mortified but made no move to stop them.

 

#

They set to work and my shame wasn’t helped by my noisy thumb sucking, which anxiously stepped up a gear. They spent a great deal of time making sure the area was wiped clean and tidy. I just let it happen.

Meanwhile, as Brenda folded the thick fabric terry square in a way I’d never seen before, Deidre continued to clean and powder the area ready to receive it.

“You do realise Anthony that this... situation... only makes you more appealing?” Deidre grinned as she rubbed the powder into my bum. “From the moment you arrived we knew there was something special about you and now... every woman in the office has volunteered to change your soaked nappies... and I’m sure the guys will join in eventually.”

“Special? What do they mean by that? What signs have I been giving out?”

 

“You’re one lucky little boy to have so many loving mummies and daddies to attend to you?”

Lucky little boy I’ve heard those words on more than one occasion but couldn’t pinpoint where.

I know I should have protested but confrontation was never my thing. This had to be part of an elaborate dream as it made no sense to me, even if the women were friendly and diligent to their task. Unfortunately, I knew that the chance of mum or dad waking me up for work and saying I was having a bad dream wasn’t going to happen. I could smell the baby powder... and taste the orange?

#

I felt like they were treating me like a little kid and for some reason, deep down, I agreed with them. I looked pleadingly to Mrs Dewhurst but on this she was being totally outmanoeuvred. 

Although my anxiety levels were high I think my bladder must have been empty I’d soaked the nappy enough and had no more. Then I worried about the ‘mashed potato’ scenario and dreaded what would be said should that happen. 

Brenda smiled a strange smile as she approached with her contribution, probably because of the pins held between her lips. She looked very determined; the nappy expertly folded and ready for my bum to receive its fluffy thickness.

No, no... ohhhh... I didn’t want this to happen but when it did... mmmm... that’s nice and soft.

 

Brenda spent some time tugging it into position and delighted in pulling it between my legs and fastening it on tightly. Both women had done their job with ease and competence and I was oddly grateful to be in a dry nappy.

I tried to think but had no idea what the future now held. Strangely I had that tang of orange back in my mouth but unfortunately no sign of Mrs Dewhurst’s box of chocolates. I didn’t know why that was the case but could have done with a chocky to suck on rather than my thumb. However, Brenda shook out a fresh pair of purple plastic pants (one of the three pairs mum had left with Mrs Dewhurst) and tugged them up my thighs.

“Ohhh sweetheart... you’ll look so... precious.” She purred with affection.

There was a look of resignation on Mrs Dewhurst face as the women had taken complete control. They’d not flinched from their work and simply treated me as a sodden little kid who needed a change.

I’d not said a word throughout the entire proceedings, although in my head I’d protested this assault on my privacy.

Then Deidre added with a smile. “Don’t worry... wet nappies on our little office boy won’t be a problem... we’ll look after you.” Then her face lit up even more, “AND... I’ve got one or two things at home I think might be useful and keep you happy.”

I stood glued to the spot wearing just a polo shirt and a thick dry nappy with a shiny purple cover.

“There you go, all done,” Brenda patted my glossy bum, whilst Deidre just looked proud.

Gillian looked in and smiled. “My, my, you do look cute... who’s one lucky boy?”

There it was, that phrase again but as before I couldn’t quite place it. Lucky Boy, Lucky Boy? In what way was I lucky? Anyway, the fresh nappy was hugging me tightly, which was so much better than a wet one, and I was unreservedly grateful.

“Let’s get back to work... we don’t want to get Paula into trouble for having a lax office now do we? Come along baby... you’ve got work to do as well.”

Gillian was the eldest female member of the team and had been Mrs Dewhurst right-hand person from long before I came to work there. She was like a mother to everyone, always there to listen, to help, someone to confide in and on top of all that, managed her work with equal efficiency and dedication.

The term ‘baby’ didn’t register as detrimental because she uses that word in a nice way to just about all the males in the office... of all ages. I think most of the office enjoyed her loving and friendly attitude and I quite liked it now.

I was led back to my seat. Everyone smiled in reassurance then went back to work.

Everything remained the same yet everything had changed... how does that work?

#

After a few minutes Mrs Dewhurst came and sat next to me at the computer. I hadn’t realised until she sat down I wasn’t wearing shorts just the billowing nappy and slinky purple cover.

“Are you OK Anthony?” She asked with concern in her voice.

“I don’t understand... I mean... why is everybody being...” I shrugged, “weird?”

“I think, well, I know, it’s because everyone likes you and wants to help.”

“But I was happier when no one knew.” Of course they had guessed about my padding but were just too polite to mention it.

“Yes, yes but you have to understand... it’s you who’s revealed your secret... the poems.” She whispered quietly.

“Ohh yes... but...” I was embarrassed about all that dumb stuff. “I don’t remember writing any of that. I was convinced I’d come up with a brilliant new system that would benefit everyone.”

My voice trailed because I had no way of proving what I thought I’d done... only those stupid, stupid rhymes.

“Well, although they were quite revealing... I did appreciate the sentiments... so thank you Anthony... I’m glad you think so well of me.”

“I always do... but honestly... the tree’s gone and...” The tree! It was unexpectedly at the forefront of my brain.

That sudden thought made less sense than anything else. Was it because of the tree being cut down... and if so... why? Why would that make the slightest difference? I mean, I’m flooding my nappy even when there are no storms anywhere in the area. So what’s going on?

There was nothing I could say to retrieve the situation or that my boss would understand, because I didn’t.

She passed my shorts.

“I think you might be better wearing these... that is, unless you prefer to be only in your...”

“No, no, erm, thanks,” and tugged them up. Brenda and Deidre had done a good job and despite the initial embarrassment, the thick fabric nappy felt very comfy. Now everyone had seen what I wear I don’t suppose it mattered that much.

“Look Anthony, you said you thought you’d come up with a new system so why not try and recreate it, hmmm? Forget everything else just think of it as one less secret and a ‘family’,” she used her hand to indicate the entire office, “here who want to help.”

I looked at her still stunned but trying to take in what she was inferring.

“Surely,” she added, “it’s better they know than every day trying to keep secrets and worrying about wetting and...”

“Yes, yes, I know but... it’s just weird.” I interrupted.

#

It wasn’t just my work mates I found weird, I felt in general things were bizarre. I simply could not equate what was going on in my nappy with a tree being struck by lightning. But, the truth was, after witnessing that tree burst into flame, pissing my pants had started again.

I couldn’t see any connection between why I thought I was writing a computer programme only to end up with childish gibberish. I know I appeared to ‘lose time’ when watching a storm but how could that effect what was happening now? None of it was in the least bit logical and what was worse, the control I thought I’d had was simply an illusion.

I mean, I was acting like a big kid thinking I could do something to impress, only to find I couldn’t. This was getting difficult because my mind was wandering all over the place (or not working at all), so, just another bloody thing for me to worry about.

Oh God... not another anxiety to cause me to piss myself.

 

Mrs Dewhurst was still trying to make me feel better.

“You have loads of support here Anthony, and to be honest, I’m quite surprised how they’ve all rallied around. I’m impressed.”

I tried to reason the situation out and explain I’m not always dependent on nappies.

“There are times when I don’t need a nappy. I mean, I hadn’t worn one for ages... up until that thunder storm so...?” The thing is - I know I sounded like a little kid trying to justify himself.

She shook her head.

“The thing is... you don’t have to worry whether you do or don’t...”

#

She left me to get on with my work but I clicked on the email file and it filled the screen. There, as I scrolled past the bottom of the page, almost hidden from the rest was another silly rhyme.

The Lightning Tree

 

Made me pee

 

But now you see

 

It’s gone.

 

So, full of glee

 

It’s only me

 

Can make me pee

 

All       day     long

 

Is that how it’s going to be from now on or will Doctor Ames sort me out? With the way things had developed in such a short space of time, it was asking a great deal of the psychiatrist.

#

I looked at the small digital clock in the right hand corner of the screen and noticed it was just after noon. There was a large empty bottle of water from the fridge, which I didn’t remember getting or drinking and my screen just had the two words LIGHTNING TREE written out hundreds of times.

Again, I could have sworn I’d spent my time working on the project Mrs Dewhurst had set. So, was surprised, disappointed and worried when all I could see for those few hours ‘work’ was two bloody words over and over again.

What the hell was happening?

I began to feel childishly awkward, as if I’d made some calamitous mistake and was about to be found out and punished for ‘pretending’.

I looked back at my screen and it sort of ‘flashed’ for no apparent reason. How could that happen and was that a rumble in the distance? I looked around the office, nothing different there. In fact, everyone seemed to be deep in concentration getting on with their work. However, the words on the screen had changed and formed the shape of the lightning tree.

None of this can be right, I must be imagining it? This is a bloody dream... it has to be.

Mum’s words began to fill my head; “Prepare for the worst but hope for the best. Prepare for the worst...” The nappies I was now wearing were so much thicker, held more fluid and hugged me much tighter. Everyone wanted to ‘help’ but why.

What the hell had mum been implying... had she expected this, this madness?

I could feel that strange shiver run up my spine and began to shake. Then I looked down the bulge in my shorts appeared to be growing and my thumb found its way between my lips. Meanwhile, that tang of orange was nudging my taste buds and I was on the verge of tears. I swallowed hard; this was getting very unnerving.

This is so stupid. My computer can’t suddenly do what it’s just done. It can’t...

And then it happened... with a soft mewling sound around my slick thumb I swamped my nappy. Only this time I was aware of it.

I cautiously looked around and felt the warmth spreading around the fabric. There was nothing I could do to stop it as I looked at the empty bottle of water on my desk wondering if I was going to fill the material with a half-litre of pee.

The thing was, although I was living through what was happening, it didn’t feel like it was a result of something I was doing. I wasn’t forcing anything it was just leaking without any involvement from me. The guilt and shame I’d experienced in the past just wasn’t there... it was almost as if it was something expected.

I wriggled in my sodden nappy and heard the soft crinkle of the plastic pants dimmed slightly by my shorts. I quickly pulled my thumb from my mouth and wondered, if I sat quietly, didn’t cry or shuffle about, and if no one noticed, could I last until I got home to change.

#

Office life was going on around me as if nothing had changed. Perhaps it was me just over reacting but I wasn’t convinced. However, there was a full afternoon of work to negotiate and wasn’t sure if a screen full of Lightning Tree would be looked on without comment. I’d have to tell Mrs Dewhurst I wasn’t feeling well and hope I could...

There was a ‘ping’ on my In Box. The tree ‘vanished’ and was replaced by a message from Mrs Dewhurst.

Great ideas, I like what you’ve done, let’s get you, me and Phil together after lunch

 

and see if we can make them work.

 

I didn’t remember sending her anything... what was going on?

So I’d sent her something but what and when and why was she pleased about it?

I know I should have been relieved but was simply further confused. What had that thunder storm done to me because nothing was making any sense?

I wriggled some more because my shorts seemed to have got heavier and tighter.

Then I saw Mrs Patel smiling over at me and she had four kids of her own, so could no doubt detect a wet nappy at a hundred paces.

Doctor Ames was going to have her work cut out because I couldn’t explain any of this. There were too many gaps, too much confusion, too many helpful people but unhelpful situations... then I remembered what mum said.

“Prepare for the worst...”

“C’mon Anthony,” It was Mrs Patel in her soft Indian accent, “I think I’ve got a soggy little bottom that needs a change.”

She took my hand and led me away from the desk. I could feel my nappy getting warm as more pee flooded the already pretty well-soaked material.

She patted my padded bottom.

“Don’t worry I’ll have you all nice and clean and dry in moments...” her accent was quite reassuring.

I shrugged. I was looking forward wearing a nice, dry nappy... there was nothing nicer.

# # #

 

...to be continued

 

[Mugi]

What the heck is happening to poor Anthony, sounds like he is loosing his mind! ?