Mum 1-10

[Les Lea]

Mum

 

Today had been annoying. Usually, I’m happy at work but today, well, it was all so niggly and bity... things not happening when it should or people not doing what they should when they should. It was that type of day.

 

As manager of the team it is my responsibility to make it all work but I was at the mercy of others incompetence or lack of knowledge. Anyway, I got most of it sorted but it was all very frustrating and hectic. However, Friday night means a nice long weekend where I can relax, compose myself and spend a few hours totally absorbed in ME.

Even though it was after 9pm when I eventually got home the moment I walked through the door of my flat I had it planned. Strip, bath and lovely long soak before doing what I was going to do.

My new bedding had arrived a couple of days earlier but I’d been so busy I hadn’t had time to sort it out... so actually, that had to be my first job as that would lead nicely into the other bits of my planned weekend.

A week or so earlier, in a moment of juvenile and giddy excitement, I’d noticed the Matalan store was selling fleecy duvet covers in their sale. I’d actually seen a review of them and one comment was “... it’s like sleeping with a big teddy bear, all soft and welcoming. 5*s” so I was sold.

Anyway, I’d ordered a grey fitted bottom sheet and two matching pillowcases and a bright yellowy/mustardy coloured duvet cover with two matching pillowcases and when I’d fitted them to my bed... man it did indeed look welcoming.

I ran my hand over the fleecy softness and whoever wrote the review was spot on... it instantly reminded me of the teddy bear I had as a child. Loads of memories came flooding back and that’s just what I intended.

*****

I ran the bath and stripped out of my work clothes, hung up the suit but put everything else in the laundry basket for tomorrow’s big wash. I inspected myself in the full-length mirror seeing if at twenty-four I’d started to deteriorate physically. I mean the job isn’t anything that should wear my body out, it’s fairly sedentary but I was the youngest manager in the company so had a lot of responsibility and the need to keep proving that I was the right person for the job.

When I was made manager there were quite a few doubts expressed by the Executive Directors about my ‘youth’. I needed to prove that I could cope, and not only cope, but excel at whatever they threw at me – thankfully, so far so good but that pressure was non-stop.

I looked at myself in profile, not bad. I’m five foot nine, short black hair, reasonably good-looking (but who’s to say?). So far, not getting chubby but that was down to the fact that I only ate once a day and more or less lived on protein shakes and vitamin drinks. Skin was tight on my body and in general everywhere was firm without being too muscular.

Before I took this job I played five-a-side footy a couple of times a week and squash at the weekends so I had a sporty side. Alas, work now occupied almost all of my time and, if I got a free weekend, I wanted to spend it winding down not getting exhausted. Even though I tried to deny it, I knew I’d got my priorities wrong. However, once on the corporate ladder, and at an early age, climbing down and finding other work that paid so well, would have been all but impossible. The hours were long but I was still proving myself to any doubters.

So, to mix metaphors, the greasy pole was there for me to climb and I’d embarked on getting to the top.

Anyway, I could hear the water still running so stopped this self-evaluation and made my way to the bathroom.

On weekdays I get a morning shower but on Friday night (when possible) I liked to indulge myself in a long hot (very hot) soak with bubbles and assorted scents. It may have smelled like a whore’s boudoir but it helped me relax and dissolve away the week’s complications.

*****

I breathlessly slid under the foam as my body tried to get used to the heat. I think even a lobster would have complained and not just about the bubbles. Then I got the giggles thinking how heartless it would be to cook a lobster in a scented bath, trying to get it to relax before dipping its lovely meat in liquefied butter - mmm my mouth watered at the prospect.

Stupid head... but at least I wasn’t thinking of work but starting to have fun. I closed my eyes and let the heat permeate every inch of my body. The bubble bath made my skin silky and soft and after a slow but methodical sponge everywhere, I settled back down to let the soothing unguents do their work.

I keep my hair short and have a strange dislike for facial hair of any kind. This isn’t a new thing; ever since I started growing hair ‘down there’ I always thought it looked untidy so why on earth would anyone want a face that looked like your pubes? At school I was one of the last to sprout a pubic display but when it kicked in, it seemed to take over. A couple of years ago, as a treat to myself, I had electrolysis and it has more or less left me permanently smooth, which as it turns out, is ideal.

I raised my hips from the bath to watch the water part and the soft mound of dick and ball-sack rise through the suds. Not for the first time I thought what a lovely thing to have, the pleasure it can bring and the occasional demands it makes. I was looking forward to giving it something else it craved as soon as I dried myself off. For the moment though I intended to soak for as long as I could before the water became uncomfortably tepid.

*****

Once out of the bath I dry myself slowly but thoroughly, getting into every crease and crevice, making sure there is no excess water anywhere. Then I get to the main event; the special soothing lotion that I spread gently but liberally around my groin.  It has a warming note, as well as a special blend of sandalwood, highly refined botanical lipids, almond oil and vanilla. It’s a luxury I can afford and is composed especially for me. My groin feels baby soft and luxurious, without hair it doesn’t clump or pool it spreads evenly... even my arsehole benefits from a good mollified fingering.

Once I let that soak in I sprinkle a little powder, a light talc because I just love that smell before I venture over to my dresser and take out the special, thick and colourful disposable that’s going to accompany me to bed tonight. Reverently I fluff the cute plastic backed material to give it chance of air to expand that little more. Cheeky cartoon animals are grinning at me and I’m grinning back, I simply cannot wait to have it snugly wrapped around me and taped into place.

Now you may be wondering – Friday night, 24, good-looking and he’s taking a bath and putting on a nappy, what the hell is wrong with this guy?

Well, let me explain. I don’t care. You do what you like and I’ll do what I like and trying to pick up someone in a noisy bar, drinking with people I wouldn’t want anywhere near me and being social... not my scene at all. I like my own company and more so, like the comfort and fantasy I can indulge in when I wear a nice bit of padding.

As a kid mum always made sure that my padding was thick to avert any ‘preventable accidents’, which meant the bulge was substantial but, as that was how I was always wrapped when I wore a nappy, I just got on with it. Perhaps I should also tell you that I had potty issues until I was nearly eight years old. When I eventually managed to get to the toilet on time mum said that just to make sure, I still wore a nappy to bed every night until I was ten. Again, as it was something that she said I needed though I don’t remember wetting often during that time, I suppose it was necessary to have that safety net.

Anyway, now I live on my own I was able to indulge in something I’d missed for a while when I lived at home. Mum and dad are both loving parents but once I’d gotten out of wearing protection I never went back. We all seemed happy that part of my childhood was behind me and I moved on happily into my teenage years.

However, as I got older and started work I found myself craving the return to nappies and disposables. For a while this was something I tried to ignore. I couldn’t contemplate the reaction from my parents had I indulged myself so, when I eventually got a job and the raise that went with promotion, I found a little flat on the other side of town to my parents and began to slowly feed that need I’d been desperately trying to subdue.

Of course, after that first night I opened the bag of disposables and put one on, that was it. I was hooked so, over time, I’ve made it into something special. Something I only indulge in at most, once a week but when I do... YEEESSSSS!

*****

The bath had thankfully completely relaxed me and the dreadful day was now suitably in the past and I could spoil myself properly. The soothing oil had soaked in nicely and the sweet scented talc wafted in my bedroom’s air giving the most satisfying of atmospheres. Subdued lighting made it so I could relax but still see what I was doing as now the fluffed out disposable had gained some volume I inserted a couple of bamboo soaker pads to fill it out even more.

At last I get to touch the pretty, colourful, childishly-emblazoned, yet erotically charged disposable my brain had been forming in my brain. It isn’t just the touch of course, but the entire sensual nature of the folds of fabric wrapped in a plastic coating and driving the sensuous nature of what I’m about to do. I wait a moment; savouring the luxurious physical way my body is anticipating that instant when expectancy is flooded by reality.

I slowly slip myself onto the soft buffer of fabric and ease myself into position. I’ve done this many, many times but the ethereal nature, the building excitement, the absolute pleasure comes when I fasten the two sticky tapes tightly on to the plastic surface and we become one.

That shiver, that mind-blowing phenomenal miracle that such a simple item my body and my super-euphoric brain has created immediately sends me into sexual meltdown.

It’s no good trying to hold back because this is the start of a night given over to complete and utter pleasure. A pleasure, I contend, is matched by very little... well for me anyway. My body pumps the effect directly into the waiting bamboo; I’ll need the extra padding because my intention is to pump all night until I cannot pump any more. That first release is so damn satisfying and I can feel it trickle around my cock, greasing it up for the next spurt of orgasmic sustenance.

I lay exhausted and slowly close my eyes imagining in my head what my next explosion will feature... except...

*****

I wake up and it’s daylight. The sun is streaming in through my bedroom window and I’m laid on the top of my bed looking down at the large, but hardly used, bulky disposable I was so intent on demolishing with my... erm, um... what’s this?

A cup of coffee, with a gentle spiral of steam coming off it, is on my bedside table.

What the f***

# tbc #

[maly]

Monsieur you spoil us with another new story.

So who is the mystery coffee maker?

Thanks.

Maly.

[Les Lea]

Part 2

 

I knew the last week had been pretty intense, there was a lot of work to get through and, despite more than a few hiccups managed to keep to the target. I touched the cup, hot, so definitely not hallucinating. So I am in charge of my faculties... but what am I missing?

 

I know I haven’t arranged anything because, well, I don’t have that type of friendship or relationship with anyone. Besides, I wouldn’t invite anyone here dressed as I was. Yet, I can definitely hear movement in the kitchen, which I suddenly realise, has made my body run cold in trepidation. Whoever’s there has seen me wearing a nappy AND brought me coffee so... What the hell is going on?

I try to move but for some reason (terror) my body isn’t initially obeying any commands, perhaps it knows something I don’t. However, I can hear a noise and strain to try and distinguish the sound. I think that’s the washing machine. The palm of my hand is distractedly rubbing the plastic front of my disposable in a sort of nervous, comforting way, and the little figures who should have disappeared because of being soaked remain looking chipper... so I hadn’t even wet during the night. Now there are several things filling my head, none I wish to repeat, and close my eyes trying to shake away some thoughts and convince my body to move. When I open them again I’m met by...

“Morning love, just put your washing on... what do you fancy for breakfast? I see you’ve got eggs and bacon so...”

“Mum!”

“Of course, who did you think it was... a burglar who does your washing and makes coffee?” She half giggled to herself.

“What on earth are you doing here?” I nearly said ‘uninvited’ but that’s no way to talk to your mother. I looked over at the clock and it was only just past 8am, “and at such an early hour?”

I suddenly remembered I was only wearing a disposable, cute though it was I tried to inconspicuously drag the duvet over to hide myself.

“Sweetheart, I’ve seen the nappy now so there’s no point in hiding it... it’s nothing new... you don’t need to feel strange about it.”

Strange? Yes, that’s exactly how this scene felt... bloody strange. My mother seemed completely unbothered by it, even outwardly to accept it as ‘normal’ but my head was spinning and I couldn’t form any words.

“What, ummm, why, errr, mmmm...”

“Your father and I had words last night and I told him until he apologises I’m not going home so...”

“You’re moving in here with me but, but, but...”

She nodded “I’ll get the bacon on... so maybe you want to shuffle into a pair of pants or something... although I don’t mind.” She looked back over her shoulder. “In fact, you look pretty adorable as you are.”

‘Fuck, fuck, fuck’ was blasting through my mind. A cold shiver of shame tingled in my veins and I knew I’d gone beet red. This was not the relaxed and pampered way I’d hoped my weekend would go.

I was left dumbfounded and needed something to get me going. I reached for the coffee and took a lovely long swig. Bloody hell, mum even makes a simple cup of coffee taste better than anything I can make.

*****

OK, OK. I sat up in bed slowly sipping the coffee and trying to get my thoughts into some kind of order.

“C’mon Casper, think, think, THINK... how are you going to explain this, this, this...?”

Mum now knew about my fetish, my love of nappies, diapers, pull-ups, pampers, disposables... call them what you will, but she’d seen me in this... (mmm... running my hand over the slinky bulge sent another unexpected shiver down my spine). However, she’s not daft and able to put two and two together.

Then another thought struck me... just how long does she intend to stay? I mean, I’d love to be able to tell her to find somewhere else but I don’t have that uncaring relationship with mum.

And that’s another thing... what on earth did mum row with dad about to bring her here first thing Saturday morning?

So, as I sipped my coffee loads of stuff was going on in my head AND mum had seen my nappy, my secret, my pleasure, my... Oh God... what was she going to say when I sat down to eat what will no doubt be the best breakfast I’d had since I left home.

The smell of bacon grilling; making it all crispy just as I like it, fried eggs, toast... I rubbed my plasticky bulge (which always made me feel better) in anticipation of a lovely early morning meal. I’d better get up and face whatever was going to happen.

Actually, with mum saying to leave the nappy I thought, as I hadn’t used it to its full extent, I’d brave it out and simply slipped on a pair of boxer shorts that didn’t hide any of it particularly well. Besides, that smell of fried food had certainly got my juices flowing.

*****

Of course when I’d got the flat I gave mum a key so I always knew there was a spare should I need one, I’d never expected her to use it to ingratiate herself in my company without first discussing it. Mum had not only brought a small wheelie-case but enough food to feed an army so breakfast also consisted of sausages, beans and mushrooms... it was the largest meal I’d had for about two years... in fact since I’d lived alone.

“Casper sweetheart, you look like you could do with a good breakfast, you’re getting very scrawny.” Was mum’s assessment of my protein drink and almost vegetarian diet.

She’d never been keen on fads and thought some people took these things too far and made themselves ill. She didn’t acknowledge that taking it the other way could also lead to problems but you try arguing with a mum who’s just produced the best meal (yes I certainly was going to tuck into it) that had ever been cooked in this flat.

We sat at my small two-seater table, typical of mum she’d simply made herself poached egg on toast whilst feeding me this ginormous pile of... fried wonderfulness.

“Eat it whilst it’s hot love... we can chat later.” She patted my bare leg and took in the fact I was still wearing that obvious nappy under the boxers. “We have some things to discuss.”

Now I felt on the back foot. It was as if I had to explain things to her when all I really wanted to know was how long she planned on staying and what the row with dad had been about. But that wheelie-case in my line of sight told me it hadn’t been a simple quarrel, this was serious.

*****

I knew that when she said “chat later” she meant anything serious. So, we made small talk about work and neighbours as I downed what was, as expected, the best meal I’d had in ages.

“Have you made any new friends love?” She enquired over her poached egg.

“Not really had the time since I moved. I mean, I’ve been quite busy with work and, you know, sorting myself out.” I wondered if that sounded too vague or if she thought I was talking about wearing nappies on my day off. “Anyway, I think the entire block is young professionals from what I’ve garnered so far... all busy, busy.”

“Oh well, hopefully you’ll meet some of your neighbours soon.” The way she said it she wasn’t thinking I would.

The thing is I’m a very private person. I’m not one for socialising or needy enough to lay my life out on social media. I have absolutely no desire to put photographs of my breakfast on Instagram or comment on Twitter about some soap-star’s fall from grace.

I tried to immerse myself in eating the big breakfast and was actually thoroughly enjoying the taste of crispy bacon and a couple of huge pork sausages. Mum had gone all out and I was making the most of this incredible meal (it should be all over Instagram).

“I like to see my boy enjoying his food,” she said with motherly affection. “I’ll soon have you looking a bit more healthy.”

“Mum, I’m not unhealthy it’s just that...”

“You’re starving yourself and not eating properly... and that isn’t good for you.”

“Mum I’m not.” I said it with more force than I meant but was dipping a bit of sausage in the egg so I was slightly distracted. “The protein drinks and such are fine...”

“Well maybe you think so but you don’t look as well as when you left home.” Mum was finishing her toast.

We could have gone down this path for ages but instead I concentrated on finishing each morsel of food.

I was quite full by the end and the weight of it all made my bladder react and experienced a small spurt soak into my nappy.

“Well, thanks for that,” I said as I started to leave the table, “but I guess I’ll go and change and then we can have our talk.”

“Casper love, you don’t have to on my account.” Mum said dismissively. “You and nappies are nothing new.”

“What do you mean by that?” I said standing in the kitchen doorway desperate to finish peeing but also desperate to hear what she had to say. I held it in.

“Well love, you’ve always had a thing about nappies ever since you were small.” I shrugged as this was news to me. “You wanted to wear them even when you didn’t need them... right up until you were ten.”

“But, but it was you and dad who kept me in them, having to wear them night after night...”

“Oh, is that how you remember it?” Mum said and folded her arms. “OK, why would we?”

“Erm, I don’t know. I just thought...” Actually, I had never wondered why I’d just accepted it and now she was saying... what exactly was she saying?

“Go on, why would we... you must have some idea?” There was a touch of defiance to her voice that I’d never heard mum use before. A sort of challenge and I wondered if this is what they’d rowed about.

I had no idea ‘why’ at all.

“But why would I want to stay in them if I didn’t need them... and why did you let me?”

“Well sweetheart that’s the thing when you have kids. At some point, for a quiet life, you put up with their stupid demands rather than put up with a tantrum, the silent treatment, the moods, the downright uncalled for kiddie nastiness.”

She reeled them off as if remembering how things were.

I looked at mum in alarm, was she talking about me?

“Erm, but, umm,”

“You may not remember it that way but you wouldn’t go to bed unless you wore a nappy. You were scared of not only wetting the bed, even though you hadn’t done so for months, but also worried about some dream that scared you.”

“I don’t remember any of that.” It was my turn to be dismissive but now she’d reminded me I did sort of think she might be... no... really? I mean, I was only five or six when I had that dream.

“Well, sorry to bring the news but you really, really loved a nappy because you said it made you safe.”

“Then why did I stop?”

Mum came over and patted my bulging boxers, “It looks like you never did.”

I was crestfallen and worse still I could feel my full bladder, which I’d been desperate to hold in whilst we spoke, now filling the front of my disposable.

“There you go love...” and she patted the rapidly filling fabric as if she had no further point to prove.

I suppose she hadn’t.

*****

[Pierry Louys]

Awwww so cute 

[maly]

Brilliant. Oh for a mother that understanding!

Thanks for the new chapter.

Maly.

[Les Lea]

Part 3

Whilst mum washed-up I went to the bathroom to clean myself up. What a disaster. If it wasn’t bad enough being discovered in flagrante delicto by wearing my fetish, mum had now witnessed me pissing in the thing as well. Of course when I wear one I do use it so that was normal except the circumstances weren’t and had become awkward. So now it was going to be difficult telling her to go back to dad – I lived in a one bedroom flat so where was she going to sleep.

“Are you all right in there?” Mum sounded concerned.

“Yes of course, why not?” I was a little irritable because I hadn’t sussed how I could get rid of her.

“Well, you’ve been in there ages... do you need some help with your nappy?”

She didn’t seem to be having a go just sounded like she normally did, caring.

I had no idea how long I’d been in the bathroom because time had very little meaning I was so wrapped up in what needed to be done. Unfortunately, my mind was turning things over in my head but producing no answers. There was nothing about this situation where I come out of it without some kind of guilt.

Guilty about wanting mum gone, guilty about wearing a nappy for sexual release, guilty about pissing myself in front of her, guilty, guilty, GUILTY!

I wasn’t even planning on wearing again whilst she was here but that’s not what I said. What I did say was, “Mum, I’m twenty-four, I think I can change my own nappy.” Of course, I could have bitten my tongue off as soon as the words were out of my mouth. Why would I admit to being able to do such a thing, never mind bragging that I’m old enough to do so? This was getting silly.

“Only asking sweetheart, it wouldn’t be the first time you had trouble wearing one of those things.”

I had no idea to what she was referring but I used disposables and they weren’t that tricky at all. I nearly shouted that out but thought better of it.

“I hope you’re using plenty of anti-rash cream and talc... it can get quite serious down there... you don’t want it to get inflamed love.” In my head I could see her waving a finger in the direction of my groin.

“Mummm, stop fussing,” I said exasperated by the conversation but sounding like a kid.

However, mum was right, I had been in there ages so wrapped a towel around my midriff and sauntered out as if I owned the place, which I do... well... I rent so technically... you know what I mean.

*****

The confidence I thought I entered my bedroom with was soon knocked as mum had her case open on the bed and was rooting around in my wardrobe finding a place to hang stuff up. She saw my stash of different styles of coloured disposables and was checking out several pairs of vinyl pants I’d recently invested in. So any excuse of me pretending this was a one-off disappeared.

“Well love, these are all very... playful.” She said picking up a blue disposable adorned in clouds and teddy bears and gently unravelled it. “Very cute... and cosy no doubt.”

She passed it to me as if she expected it was what I was going to wear.

“I don’t wear one all the time mum, please, stop, we need to talk...”

“We can talk dear but I think you should put something on,” she unfurled the disposable more and checked out the babyish design, “Mmmm, I think you’d be fine in this.”

“Mum,” I said stalking over to my chest of drawers and pulling out some underpants, “I don’t need a nappy...” I said shaking a pair of Calvin Klein briefs in her face.

“No one said you need one love... just that you’re probably going to be in a better mood if you’re wrapped in something you find comforting. Do you want me to put it on for you?”

She flapped it out in front of my face so the thing was enticing and in easy reach. Mum had got me; she knew that was just what I liked about a disposable so took it and returned to the bathroom to put it on. I definitely wasn’t going to accept mum’s offer.

As I carefully fastened the tapes tightly and smoothed it down around my genitals there was no doubt I loved the thick, glossy feel and I was actually getting hard. ‘Oh shit’ I couldn’t go out like this with mum there it would be too weird. This was supposed to be my enjoyment, instead, because of mum, I was wearing, though not appreciating, just how special my disposable was to me.

Although I was annoyed and pretending exasperation mum was one step ahead as I returned because she had a particularly childishly decorated pair of plastic pants she shoved in my direction.

“If you’re going to piss yourself sweetheart, you may find these will protect your furniture and clothes better.”

Not only that, she bent down and opened them up so that I could easily step into them.

“Muummmm.” I didn’t want to but mum was organised so just went into ‘obedient son’ mode and did as indicated. She wriggled the soft slippery material up my thighs and then patted it down over my fresh and nicely padded nappy.

“There, comfy?” She enquired but grinned at the final look.

‘Don’t forget your manners’ had been a regular instruction from mum. Whenever anyone did anything for you it was only polite to thank that person.

“Thanks... mum.”

*****

Although it was comforting to be wearing a nappy I was now completely off kilter, she however seemed completely composed. Mum had even rooted through my drawers and retrieved a plain white cotton t-shirt and passed that over, which I dutifully put on.

Once that little exercise was concluded we sat down on my bed but mum was instantly distracted.

“Oh love, this is a very nice duvet, all nice and soft,” she stroked the fleecy surface, “doesn’t it remind you of Bessie?”

Bessie was my old teddy bear but I was hardly going to admit that was the only reason I’d bought it.

“Mmm I suppose it does.” I tried to pretend the thought had never occurred to me... and then our chat started.

Well mum started, I was still a little overawed by what had just taken place with, what appeared to be, minimal objection.

“Look sweetheart, I spoiled your weekend of, erm, fun and I’m sorry about that” she patted my shiny bulge, “and I don’t want to stop you doing whatever it is you like doing... but your father and I have had a bit of a disagreement so need some space to sort it out.”

“What on earth was said?” I wasn’t sure I wanted to know but I was sitting wearing a nappy and talking to mum as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Weird or what?

“I’m not going into that sweetheart because its mummy and daddy talk.” Again she patted my childish vinyl pants and smiled. I wasn’t sure if she was joking or not - mummy and daddy talk - for goodness sake.

“Suffice it to say, I need a bed for a little while until we can arrange things better and I’m sure you wouldn’t want to see me walking the streets.”

Now I know we aren’t the richest family in the world but I’m sure mum could have sprung for a hotel for a few days but then, I am her son, and I suppose, being an only child means I also have responsibilities. If I can cope with the demands of work I’m sure it will be no trouble dealing with mum, we do get along after all.

I could appear generous.

“Of course mum,” I said charitably, “I wouldn’t expect you to stay anywhere else but with me. I’m sure we can sort things out easily enough. I mean I’ll take the couch to sleep on and you...”

“No, no, no love,” she gripped my arm. “You’re a working lad and I’m small enough to fit on the couch without too much trouble so, no, you keep your bed... I’ll be able to cope.”

Well that was settled quickly but my flat has barely enough room for a single person so I wasn’t sure how this was going to work. However, mum has really good organising abilities so guess it’ll turn out okay.

Actually, mum is fast approaching her fiftieth and I wondered if that had anything to do with her quarrel with dad. He passed that age a good five years ago and it hit him for six. Apparently, if by fifty you’ve not achieved what you want you’ll never achieve it. I don’t know who came up with that load of nonsense but dad was really stuffed by it. Thankfully he didn’t rush out and buy a Harley-Davidson or red Porsche but did become more insular and less ‘fun’. Had we had an allotment I’m sure that’s where you’d find him engrossed in growing giant marrows... or some such pointless exercise.

I think mum resented that and now it’s her turn I guess that with all the other worries and women’s troubles (sorry but that’s the only way it’s ever been explained to me) she might be feeling old and unattractive... or something. Although to me mum hasn’t changed since I was a kid, she’s still as loving as ever. I have recent events, and a clean nappy, to prove my point.

*****

[Pierry Louys]

Awww great chapter

[parkintochter]

The story is great. I wonder what is true, he wanted to wear them or she seduced him wearing it

[tam1623]

?

[maly]

Thanks for the new chapter.

Maly.

[Les Lea]

Part 4

“Dad, dad, what the hell have you said to mum?” I was trying to sound angry and at the same time keep my voice down so mum didn’t hear.

“Nothing.” Dad’s doleful voice answered at the other end of the telephone.

“You must have said something because.... she’s here... with a case... and... what did you say and whatever it was you need to apologise and then things can get back to normal?”

My voice had gone up an octave but still, I think I made myself clear.

“No, I don’t think so. She’ll come back when she’s good and ready.”

“Dad, that’s not going to happen because she says you need to apologise first.” I was almost pleading.

“Well that’s not going to happen. She thinks I can’t exist without her and, well, we’ll see. Meanwhile son, how are you?”

“Oh hell dad...”

*****

“Are you talking to your father?” Mum confronted me looking guiltily at my phone.

“Ermmm, yessss, but only trying to...”

Mum wasn’t in the mood for explanations. “Well you needn’t bother because he knows what was said and that’s an end to it.”

She sat down on the sofa with an air of indignation about her. There was no way I was going to turn this situation to my advantage so sighed, put the phone back on the charger and asked if she fancied a trip into town.

“What, dressed like that?” She harrumphed.

I was standing there in my plastic coated nappy and t-shirt and I thought I’m not letting you lead the agenda so delivered what I thought was a clever answer. “Well you dressed me like this... so...” and smiled my biggest smile.

She shrugged her head and turned away as if she’d been wounded by my comment but of course mum isn’t that easily offended.

“Well, when you were two... and now twenty four... mmm... how times change.” The sarcasm was more than I bargained for.

Well that put me back in my little box.

“Actually, I could do with stretching my legs so yes, let’s go I’ll just get my bag and you can...”

“Put on some pants.” I interjected.

“Well that’s entirely up to you sweetheart... I’d hate to stop you doing anything that might spoil your weekend.”

“Too late” I thought but said nothing.

*****

Mum had been to my flat a few times since I moved but didn’t know the area particularly well so took the opportunity to show her around. I really liked this part of town; it has a village type of vibe but is still quite urban. We have all the usual fast food outlets in or around and the main street has everything you could want shop-wise, including a couple of rather nice boutique style shops, cafes and bakeries.

What mainly drew me to this area was the fact that I could easily walk to work. On a good day I could be out of my flat and in the office all within a twenty minute amble. We also have terrific transport links leading into the city and a couple of pubs and a rather flamboyant gastro-pub that people travel miles to enjoy.

Despite our rocky start to the day, we spent a really good couple of hours wandering the streets and mum seemed impressed and said what a delightful place it was to live. Then I had a guilty thought because I wondered how long she planned to stay and if this serene part of my world was about to become part of hers.

Mum kept surreptitiously patting and squeezing my bottom because she knew I’d kept my disposable on. When I told her through clenched teeth to ‘quit it’, she just grinned and said she was just checking to make sure I wasn’t wet... yet.

Mum was having a great time and I, for the first time in many, many years, was out and about wearing a nice thick nappy, which I normally only wear in the privacy of my flat. So I suppose mum had to some extent got me out of a rut and worry about ‘what if’ others might notice. No one batted an eyelid, even with the lovely rustling noise I made (mum pointed it out after about half an hour when I thought only I was aware of it). A cold shiver ran up my spine and I felt really ill at ease but mum, in her no nonsense way, simply told me to enjoy the freedom a nappy gives a boy.

I wasn’t sure if mum was calling me a boy or it was just a general observation but oddly, I did feel less overawed by the fact I had padding between my legs, was out in public and having a surprisingly wonderful experience.

Since I’d started this weekend of innocent disposable debauchery it had remained within the walls of my home. I’d never worn any of my nappies outside but this experience was not only very pleasant but liberating. Each padded stride found the lovely thick fabric hugging me tightly as the plastic pants gripped the top of my thighs. I felt contained, special and safe.

“Thanks mum.”

I seemed to have been thinking that a lot over the last few hours... even If I wasn’t saying it out loud.

*****

Eventually mum wanted to have a sit down and we decided on one of the café-cum-patisserie that did some really fantastic homemade confectionery. They could also make spectacular cakes for any special occasion... the owners, Tim and Rosy, were brilliant bakers.  Rosy had appeared on The Great British Bake Off but hadn’t won, which was a surprise to anyone who ever tasted her yummy cakes.

Mum loved the place and said that her ‘special’ coffee was the nicest cup she’d ever had the pleasure of drinking. She also ate a piece of apple and rhubarb tart and thought it exquisite. She ended up buying a couple of extra pasties for us to have for tea later in the day.

We sat for a while chatting away and although she didn’t give me any clearer info about her and dad’s row, she did get me to talk about my promotion and the way the job has panned out.

I told her about the long hours I had to work to prove I was up to the job, being the youngest manager and all, and, how quite a few of the staff didn’t seem up to their part of proceedings, leaving me to pick up the slack.

She asked if there was resentment from any one about me getting the job over someone who perhaps had been there longer and saw it as their right. Now that got me thinking.

She pointed out that early in dad’s career he came unstuck with such a person where he worked and put up with the situation for far too long.

“He’d come home late and exhausted,” she sympathised, “and to begin with I was all nice and lovey-dovey understanding his position. However, when I found out he was working harder to save this other person I got angry. Our relationship and our time together was being spoiled but that one person...” I could see the ancient anger in her face. “So, I told your father straight to get tough and get rid of him because either he went or I would as I refused to play second fiddle in that relationship.”

I never knew this about mum and dad. I mean, I know mum at just over five feet tall doesn’t take much messing but I’d never seen her in that particular light before - hard and absolutely certain of her position.

I was enthralled. “Did dad get rid of him?”

Mum smiled but you’d hardly call it a smile, more a grimace of determination. “He bloody well did and, the office settled down pretty quickly afterwards. And I got your dad home at a sensible time and our weekends back.”

There was a touch of satisfaction in mum’s voice as she drained her coffee and ordered a second cup.

We must have chatted for about an hour but the time simply flew by and in that period I felt myself guiltily filling my disposable. All that coffee and breakfast orange juice mum had prepared, still, she’d got me thinking about the job and my drenched nappy didn’t seem too important. She helped me make a decision not to cover for anyone’s incompetence but to check on what was being done or not done and hold that person or persons responsible for their own work.

“You’re the boss, you’re their boss... you might be the youngest but that’s no reason not to be firm with those you manage.” She was adamant, “Don’t let anyone undermine you because if they get away with it... you’ll be forever undermined.”

Twenty four years I’ve been on this Earth and for all those years mum has been my mum but never had I heard her speak like this and it was incredible. I could see why dad and mum might have rowed, especially if she was laying down the law but she made sense and I would be looking closer at my fellow workers in future.

By the end of the second cup mum had changed the way I thought AND the way I’d approach my work when I got in Monday morning. Meanwhile she leant over the table and whispered that perhaps it was time, as I was no doubt absolutely soaked, for a change.

I had no idea how she knew but she must have known from the shocked expression on my face that my nappy did indeed need urgent attention.

“Sweetheart, a mother knows.” She picked up her bag, thanked the staff and more or less gently herded me out into the street patting my soggy bottom as she did.

“Now then love, let’s get you sorted shall we?”

She laced her arm through mine and we set off home.

*****

[tam1623]

Great story .... cheers

[maly]

I am really enjoying this story.

Thanks

Maly.

[wetdiaper55]

Great story , I can,t wait to see what happens

[parkintochter]

His mum really has a thing for nappies. Can we please have flashbacks of his past?

[wetdiaper55]

Lets see how much Mum  can take her boy to baby hood

[Les Lea]

Part 5

 

“Eeee that takes me back.” Mum smiled.

 

“What does?” I innocently enquired.

She let go of my arm and gave me a sidelong glance. “That,” her eyes were taking in my gentle stride, “that cute little waddle when you’ve filled your nappy.”

“MUUMMM.”

But then I realised I was walking with my legs slightly apart because, as it’s supposed to do, the disposable had done its duty and soaked up all the pee and expanded as a result. I wasn’t used to having to deal with it in public and mum watching but she just smiled some more, re-linked with my arm and we continued on our way.

Mum seemed to be enjoying my embarrassment saying as how she’ll give me a nice bath and powder my cute little tush and other such silliness. No way was that going to happen. Thankfully, I think it was all just a tease but she was on a roll and couldn’t help herself.

“Mum,” I whispered hoping that none of the other pedestrians would hear our chat. “I don’t want to be a baby... I just like wearing a nappy.”

A woman picking up her tiny white Bichon Frise puppy’s poo looked up in disgust when she heard the word nappy. Whether she understood I was talking about me and not wrapping her dog in one so it didn’t shit in the street was uncertain. Still, I’d have to be more careful with what I admit to when out and about.

Mum was having a great time and never stopped giggling all the way home.

*****

I live in a relatively new block of twelve flats over two floors. On the west side are Flats 1,3 and 5 and on the second floor Flats 7,9 and 11. The east side is just a mirror version of the same design and I live in Flat 2.

The first two flats on each floor are just one bedroom, whilst the other is slightly larger and has two. They’re pretty modern, having only been built five years ago so I was lucky to find one and I’ve been grateful ever since I moved in that I don’t have prying neighbours, or even see much of them because of the hours they and I work.

In fact, I think my next door neighbour at Number 4 is a single lady called Florence but I’ve no idea the name of the guy who lives at Number 6. I’ve seen him come and go of course but we’ve never actually spoken. I suspect he’s around the same age as me and I think he must work from home but I’m only speculating. The same with those who live above me, I’ve seen them come and go and apart from a ‘Hello’ if we pass each other in the communal area I know nothing about any of them.

Once through the front door I made my way first to my bedroom to collect a few things and then to the bathroom to change. Mum, being in the devilish mood asked if I needed help. I told her to back off and go and watch TV or something.

“Do you want me to get a fresh nappy ready for you?” She shouted through the closed bathroom door.

I didn’t say anything but dreaded that anyone in the other flat might hear her, she wasn’t being too subtle. Besides, I had my briefs with me now and had no intention of wearing a nappy again whilst mum was around.

The problem I had... once I’d taken the soggy thing off, rinsed the glassy plastic pants in the sink and wiped myself clean I really did just want to delve back into padded bliss. Today had been an eye-opener and new experience for me so, despite mum (or probably because of her), it had been quite exhilarating.

*****

I came out of the bathroom wearing just my CKs but carrying, not unlike the lady with the poo bag, my disposable wrapped up in a little plastic bag. Mum had turned the TV on and was running through the channels but still watched as I walked back to my bedroom.

“Well they don’t look very substantial.” She called after me.

“Yes, well, I fancy a change.”

“And are you going to carry that disposable around with you all day?”

“No mother,” she could tell from my voice that I was getting annoyed.

“I’m just saying... if a nappy makes you happy then why change? Your attitude is already pretty grim and that sourpuss face won’t make you any friends.”

I didn’t realise that the lack of padding had made my entire demeanour different but she’d instantly picked up on it. Nonetheless, I’d made up my mind, no more nappies until she’d gone.

I threw on a pair of jeans and jumper and went to sit with her. We rattled down the TV remote until we found an afternoon film we both fancied and settled down to watch that.

Later we had those lovely pasties she’d bought at the patisserie for tea and watched another film later over a bottle of wine (mum’s treat as drinking in the house was something I rarely did). I wanted an early night but of course, my usual programme of events had changed so there would be no shuffling a nice disposable up my thighs and... well you get the drift?

I found mum some extra sheets and her five foot frame fitted nicely onto the sofa. I remember when I bought it I did think perhaps I should get one that turned into a bed but then remembered I didn’t want anyone to stay so didn’t bother.

Mum said it was no problem and repeated she’d had a fantastic day and was sorry to disrupt my plans.

Perhaps it was the wine talking but I said I also had a pretty wonderful day and it was down to her.

She cheekily asked if I wanted tucking in but I just laughed give her a peck on the cheek and retired to my room.

*****

I lay there in my boxers and t-shirt thinking, not only about the day, but the memories she’d stirred.

I did remember when I’d had that dream that set the nappy business off because when I was six I’d woken up to an absolute mess. I mean, it was carnage in my PJs, sheets, bedding and even the mattress was soiled beyond recovery.

That night mum returned me to wearing a nappy because I couldn’t tell her what the dream or nightmare had been about. For the life of me, all I knew was that I was terrified about something but had no idea what. I didn’t know if I’d heard something I shouldn’t, saw something or read something, all I knew was I was scared of going to sleep and doing the same thing again.

As I woke up dry and wearing a nappy I simply associated the two facts - I was dry as a result of wearing such night time protection. I became obsessed with worry that if  I wasn’t padded then the dream would return, whatever that dream was, and I’d be in serious trouble from my parents for not being able to control my pee and poo.

Mum was correct, I did throw a tantrum when it was suggested I was old enough and a big boy so shouldn’t need such protection any more but I wouldn’t have it. To be certain I needed to know I was safely bound for the night if I was to get any sleep. I think my parents just went along with it for a bit of peace.

I also remembered now why I stopped.

*****

I was ten when Uncle Paul, dad’s youngest brother, came to stay with us for a couple of weeks. He was an officer in the Royal Navy and, to me at least, a very exotic and wonderful person. He was staying with us because normally he’d be at grandma and grandpa’s house but they were moving and so, as he was on two-week leave dad suggested he came to stay with us. It was the most exciting time of my life.

Uncle Paul oozed youthful vigour, his uniform alone had me in a state of absolute wonder and he’d regale me with stories of exotic places, storms at sea and life on-board ship. Never had I been so transfixed for so long, I hung on his every word.

On the weekend mum and dad wanted to take him out for a meal but he didn’t want to go he said he was still trying to catch up on sleep and suggested they have a ‘romantic’ night out on their own and he’d babysit me. This was an offer I don’t think mum or dad could refuse and so I was happily left with my hero when they disappeared for the night.

I was getting ready for bed but obviously they’d told him about my need for a nappy when he came in to my bedroom. I thought he was there to help but he just saw me juggling a thick fabric nappy and said I shouldn’t need that.

I explained how scared I was of messing again and he told me a tale of his first day on board ship.

He came and sat next to me on my little single bed.

“I found it very scary,” he confided, “I was just a rating, the lowest of the low and on a sea-going warship so, as you can imagine, didn’t know if we’d come under fire any moment.”

I held my awestruck breath as he talked about the rolling sea on that first night.

He took the nappy from my hand. “I could have done with one of these I was so frightened of what might happen.” But he simply passed me my PJs and slowly, as the tale unfolded, helped me into them.

Before I knew it, I was wrapped in my pyjamas without wearing a nappy and listening spell-bound to his tale of that first night at sea.

“Do you know what got me through that terrifying first night?” He asked in all seriousness.

I shook my head as he helped me under my covers.

“The fact I was surrounded by my mates. All those other ratings were not only my colleagues, they were my best friends and I knew I could rely on them if anything was to befall me.”

I didn’t know what to say as he stroked my drowsy head.

“Now Casper I’m here for you... I’m the mate you can rely on... I won’t let you down and you don’t need a nappy because I’ll be right here.” He said as his finger touched my forehead like ET had done with Elliot.

I settled down but couldn’t take my eyes off this wonderful man, my Uncle Paul, my mate.

“Uncle, am I one of the mates you rely on?” I whispered.

“You’re my best mate... now try and get some sleep.” He saluted me and I saluted back before snuggling down under my blanket

Just one morning, when I was ten years old... I woke up wearing dry pyjamas and no nappy.

*****

[Pamperbum_uk]

I think somebodies mum has subconsciously given him permission to wet the bed....

Well, I hope so....

[maly]

I hope he wears a nappy to after having that wine.

Maly.

[Les Lea]

Part 6

 

I woke up feeling like I’d relived most of my childhood and I was ten again. I was even stroking myself through the fleecy duvet thinking just how soft and teddy bear like it was. My eyes focused on the clock, it was 9.32 on a Sunday morning and noticed a fresh mug of coffee gently streaming on my bedside table.

 

It had been fantastic thinking of Uncle Paul again. I remembered how much I was in love with a man that went to sea and I would have done anything for this super, heroic, gorgeous seafarer.

Those two weeks he spent with us were awesome for a lad like me. I even thought about a life in the navy when I grew up. Somewhere in a photo album there’s a picture of the entire family, grandma and granddad included, where he’s wearing his uniform and I’m beaming like the cat who’d just got the cream because his hand is resting on my shoulder.

I was deliriously happy when he was with us and felt really sad when he went back to sea. However, my nappies stayed in the wardrobe and pyjamas stayed dry and that’s all thanks to my wonderful uncle.

I know, when he left the navy a few years ago he decided he never wanted to see the sea again and the last we heard he was working on a ranch in the middle of Australia. Unfortunately, we haven’t seen him since he moved. The idea of being a sailor also faded as I got into tech and got older.

Meanwhile, I could hear movement so guessed mum was already up so I checked I was decent and wondered in to the living room clutching my drink but hanging loose under my boxers.

I’d hardly got “Morning mum” out before I noticed the changes she’d made to the furniture. “You’ve been busy.” I acknowledged whilst taking another calming sip.

“Yes, I couldn’t sleep and I thought you weren’t making the most of this room... it was all too... cramped.”

I couldn’t disagree and although I felt like I wanted to complain about her messing with my home without any kind of consultation, I had to admit there did now seem to be much more space.

“Yes,” I mumbled, “I was thinking of changing things around a bit but, erm, thanks, for saving me the trouble.”

“No problem love....”

I didn’t feel I wanted to get into an argument despite her flouting the rules of hospitality... you don’t mess with the host’s things. Apparently, mum hadn’t got that memo.

*****

My mobile rang and it was my friend Tigger (his initials were T.I.G. so it just sort of stuck from school) who wanted to know if I fancied a game of squash at the local sports centre. He’d booked a time but his partner had dropped out and needed someone at short notice. As I only lived a fifteen minute walk away he thought of me.

Now, I know I should have been upset about being second on the list but did fancy a game. It was one I used to play fairly regularly before my promotion and felt the need for a good run around.

I looked over at mum who insisted I go and enjoy myself. I think she was thinking that how she’d ruined what I really wanted to do, she couldn’t get in the way of a bit of physical exercise.

I agreed to Tigger’s request, went to my bedroom and found my squash racket, balls and shorts, all of which I loaded into a bag and set off.

“Are you sure you’re going to be OK?” I asked mum.

“Don’t be silly love, you go off and enjoy yourself I’ll have a morning of reading... no... on second thoughts... can you leave me the password on your laptop so I can catch up on my emails?”

I didn’t want to give her that info but it seemed prudish not to and just hoped she wouldn’t search through the browser.

I set it up for her before I went and loaded her emails, she had a ton.

“OK, I won’t be too long and should be back before one... maybe two...”

“It’s all fine. Just have a good time sweetheart and I’ll see you when I see you.”

I wasn’t sure I was doing the right thing but the prospect of beating Tigger was overpowering and I needed to let off steam. A damn good run around, smashing a little ball into a wall was just the outlet I needed.

*****

As it was we had two forty minute sessions (which much to my enjoyment I won easily) and we finished off with a half hour swim in the pool.

It had been great to get back into my shorts and sneakers and sweat through sheer exertion. I did for a time wonder what it might be like to wear one of my disposables as I careered around the court but lost that game because I wasn’t concentrating. I didn’t let that happen again.

As we relaxed in the pool I told him about mum’s visit. He expressed sympathy because I know he doesn’t get on with his parents, they didn’t approve of the woman he married. They were right as he’s now divorced and has large alimony payment to meet each month.

I think he also needed to get a lot of built-up pressure and anger out of his system. Still after the game we met up in the local pub with another one of the seven-a-siders I used to play regularly with, Bushy or, in his native Thai language, Busarakham.

He was the jolliest chap I knew - always smiling, always positive and always superbly dressed. Mind you, his father owned a Thai import business so the family were very well to do. He bought the first round and as the company was terrific, it was well past three, and a little unsteady when I arrived back home.

*****

I could smell mum’s cooking before I entered the house. I hadn’t had Sunday lunch for some time and my taste buds were going mad in anticipation.

“Did you have a good game love?”

“Grrreaaattt.” I slurred.

She had her own glass of white wine on the go so I didn’t feel too bad about stopping over for a bevy or two with my mates. As it is, I don’t see any of them that often these days so I was grateful for the invite and it had turned into such a social occasion, something of a rarity for me.

“Sweetheart,” mum started, “I’ve got a chicken in the oven and it will take some time as I’m slow-cooking it, so why not get your head down for an hour or so when it should be ready.

Actually, that sounded a really good idea so I nodded my agreement and toddled to my bedroom and shuffling off my jeans I couldn’t be arsed with the boxers so lay out on top of the bed wearing just my CK briefs. I was asleep within moments.

I don’t know why but I dreamt of Bushy and Tigger and we were swimming in a pool somewhere exotic. The weather was hot and we were just larking around like three kids, although we were all in our twenties.

At some point mum arrived on the scene and told me to get out as I was leaving a trail of yellow pee in the water behind me. I tried to tell her it wasn’t me but she was adamant I get out and go to her.

It was like I was a little kid and she was telling me off and I knew automatically this meant I was about to get smacked legs for peeing in the pool on purpose, even though I said it was an accident.

“We both know that’s not true now don’t we?” She admonished.

I looked down at my feet in self-conscious guilt as mum came over to spank me.

“Casper, Casper... what the hell love!”

I was roused from a very deep sleep but glad to avoid the punishment I was about to receive.

“Quick love, get to the toilet you’ve wet your undies.”

“Ohh bloody hell,” I screamed to myself, not fully conscious but aware of what had happened and dashed to the bathroom.

Twenty four and I’d just wet myself again in front of mum... this was a disaster.

I threw off my soaked briefs and headed for the shower to clean up and sober up but I could hear mum getting on with something as I angrily soaped my crotch.

To be honest I was quite embarrassed about leaving the privacy of the shower and facing mum. I’m sure she’d have some choice words to say, although I might be getting that mixed up with what I’d been dreaming about.

I entered my bedroom wrapped in a towel but my confidence had been smashed by such a juvenile act. I mean, wetting whilst wearing a nappy appeared so adult compared with doing so in your underpants. I was shame-faced.

*****

Mum had stripped the bed and I could already hear the washing machine in progress.

“Sorry love, but you’d wet through the sheets... thankfully though, it hadn’t reached your lovely new mattress.”

I was still looking at the ground, I could barely even think of looking mum in the eye as if we were of equal status.

“Casper, Casper, look at me love.” When she’d got my attention she continued, “Accidents happen dear so don’t feel too bad but...”

I knew that word ‘but’ was loaded with meaning.

“...did you wet because of the drink or because you thought you were still wearing a nappy?”

I shrugged. Like a little kid who didn’t know the gravity of what he’d done. What a fine example I am as a boss when I can’t even accept what had happened. However, mum was right, why had I wet? It was probably down to the number of pints of lager I’d consumed at lunchtime but, what was it I was dreaming about?

Mum had posed the question and I stood, shame-faced whilst she continued to get on with sorting things out. She’d found the spare bedding and started to remake the bed and I just stood, like a spare part, thinking what the hell happened.

I wandered over to the dresser and pulled out a pair of boxers.

“Do you think that’s wise?” Mum asked as she busied herself with tucking in sheets.

I shrugged again.

Mum stopped what she was doing, went to the wardrobe and pulled out a brightly coloured disposable and a pair of clear plastic pants and shoved them into my hand.

“Let’s be on the safe side shall we?” It was partly a question and partly an instruction as she pointed me back to the bathroom.

I closed the door and looked at myself in the mirror. Nothing had changed physically but in my head I felt like a naughty and stupid little kid who couldn’t keep his pants dry. However, I’d taped myself into the nappy and pulled up the plastic pants as mummy had told me to.

*****

When I returned to my bedroom the bed was made as if nothing had taken place but she’d laid out a t-shirt and a pair of jogging bottoms for me to put on. I didn’t even take in the fact that mum was dressing me as if I couldn’t do such a simple task myself but... I put them on anyway.

“Dinner’s ready.” I heard mum call from the kitchen.

How mum had done it I’ll never know because there was a full Sunday roast waiting on the table - chicken, roast potatoes, carrots, green beans and my favourite, thick onion gravy.

“Thanks mum... when did you find time to...?”

“Just eat love you need something in your tummy.”

Another wonderful meal and despite my initial misgivings, I hadn’t been eating this well since I left home. In fact, I don’t think the oven had been used since I’d moved in. This was another welcome treat.

Mum had done everything whilst I had been happily quaffing back pints and leaving her on her own. I felt guilty but then again, she’d coped quite well without me interfering. Even sitting at the table, wearing my well-padded protection was making me feel relaxed and comfortable. How had mum pulled everything together with such ease and given me advice and not thrown a fit when discovering my nappy fetish?

I wanted to ask her all this but instead just said how moist and tasty the chicken was.

*****

After the meal and we’d finished washing up (which we shared) mum showed me a few other things she’d ‘rearranged’ to make better use of the small amount of space my flat actually had. All the kitchen cupboards and storage had been re-provisioned with proper food, whilst the protein drinks and powder had been put out of the way under the sink.

“Whilst I’m here Casper you’ll eat properly, never mind all this, this nonsense,” She pointed accusingly at the large carton of 26 essential vitamins & minerals powder.

I knew I wasn’t going to change mum’s mind and in truth, after the way I’d been today, I didn’t think I was in any position to start laying down the law to her. I could change things when she’d gone so there was no point in making unnecessary waves now. Besides, as we settled on the sofa to watch one of David Attenborough’s nature specials I felt both physically and mentally satisfied.

Even better, there was a satisfying crinkle as I sat down next to mum, she smiled and patted my leg.

“I knew that’s what you needed sweetheart. Don’t change what you want on my account.”

Then I did something I hadn’t done for ages, I scrunched myself up into mum’s armpit so she was forced to put her arm around me. Childish I know but it felt wonderful to regain that connection.

*****

[Pierry Louys]

Awww that’s so cute 

[Mugi]

Nice story, looks like someone is in need of some bonding time ?

[maly]

Aww still mummys little boy.

Thanks

Maly.

[Les Lea]

Part 7

 

Monday morning I woke up to a soaked but contained nappy having had a wonderful uninterrupted night’s sleep. Over a bottle of prosecco (mum’s favourite tipple) we chatted, reminisced and laughed the night away before turning in.

 

Normally I don’t wear a disposable Sunday nights but was so comfortable I just piled under my clean sheets and drifted off without a care in the world. As usual, I’d got my clothes ready for work, so, after a quick shit, shave and shower I was just about ready for another day at the office.

As I was about to leave mum hoped I’d have a nice day, reminded me to ‘delegate’ and to keep an eye on any ‘shirkers’. She patted my bottom as I gently kissed her cheek.

“Oh, no nappy to work?” She quickly patted my bum again as if making certain of her observation.

I smiled back, “They’d have a field day if they found out.”

“But you’re happier in a nappy.”

 “Yes,” I recklessly admitted, “but they don’t need to know or have any suspicions to that fact.”

“OK sweetheart, you know best,” and waved me off.

Of course, now she’d mentioned the lack of a nappy, as I strolled the three miles to work and despite it never having bothered me before, that was all I could think of. The lack of padding did feel like I was missing out - how the hell had mum got into my head so much and so easily?

As I walked down the street, dodging joggers and other pedestrians, I vaguely wondered what else would have changed by the time I returned to the flat. However, mother had said she expected me back before seven – boss or no boss – I had to be home.

*****

The new week also brought a new venture under my department’s control. I knew it wasn’t difficult as we’d managed similar projects many times but of course, I was the boss now.

I gave each member of the team their part in the process and a timescale for completion. Everyone seemed satisfied with their workload and the time constraints and, as far as I could, left them to it.

However, by the end of the day two of the team had found difficulties and hadn’t finished their work. One was Terry Adams, a young guy who was a bit iffy, but at his interview seemed bright and just what we needed in the company. The other was Donald, dear, dear Donald who, I’m sure thought he should be in charge.

I checked their work and saw immediately it wasn’t a case of the work being difficult; it was them and their attitude. Why Terry had hitched himself to Donald I had no idea but first thing I decided was to separate them so when they came in the following day, things would look a little different.

However, I couldn’t bring myself to confront what was obviously going on and hoped this small act would suffice.

When they’d all gone home at 5.30 I spent the next hour redoing Donald’s work and getting it on track, then magically, I was home before seven and felt I’d achieved something, not everything, but something.

*****

Over the evening meal mum told me she’d been out and had sat in the park then wandered around getting her bearing’s and found the area ‘delightful’. She even decided the retirement complex on the outskirts looked pretty impressive and I joked about her and dad moving there.

“Not with him,” she added churlishly.

“Have you not spoken with him today?”

She shrugged “Sweetheart I simply haven’t had the time... but I like your neighbours. Katy next door was very chatty and François at Number 6 is a lovely looking chap... writes programmes... though not sure if that’s a proper job but he seems nice enough.”

So it was Katy and not Florence at Number 4... I wondered why I thought it was Florence.

“Well you have been busy.” I smirked but thought it was my turn now. “Perhaps the time would have been better spent mending a few bridges of your own.”

“Nonsense, he’ll come to his senses... eventually.”

“He’d better but, perhaps you should hold out an olive branch.” I said hopefully.

She looked at me as if I should know her better.

“OK.” I conceded.

“Anyway dear, how about you, did you find the miscreant?” She was eager for news.

“Yes, it’s a guy and his next door neighbour, I mean they work together, who are causing the slowdown of work.”

“I see... and what have you done about it?”

“Well, I’m going to separate them and then... well... not too sure what to do about Donald...”

“Is this Donald an older man?” I nodded, “Then you need to get rid. Get your own team together, a team you can trust and make sure everyone is aware you are planning changes... changes that not everyone will like.”

I was shocked at how mum had got it all planned out in her head.

“I’m not sure that...”

“Don’t give me that. The management, you say, are looking to you to prove yourself... well do so. Be aggressive, definite and sure of exactly what you want and who you want working with you. Just be confident.”

“You make it sound so easy... it’s not... some people have been working there years and I can’t just...”

“OK, OK, look at it this way. Maybe management wants you to remove the deadwood and are watching to see if you’ve got the bottle? OR. Maybe this asshole Donald wants to make you look bad so he can step up and ‘solve’ the problem. You need to act fast and firmly.”

*****

Mum’s tirade I’m sure was partly aimed at me and partly out of frustration with dad. However, what she said made a lot of sense and I could only wonder what would happen if I put these gears into motion.

Later, whilst we were sat watching TV mum had obviously been thinking things over.

“Look love, off subject but I feel it relevant... so stay with me.” I turned the TV sound down and looked at her. “When did you decide to wear nappies again?”

Although it was an obvious question I hadn’t thought mum would go there. “Ermmm.”

“All I’m saying,” she continued, “is that at some point you made the decision that you wanted to feel the padding back. Now, as you know, I’m not bothered but it must have taken some guts on your part to acknowledge this was what you wanted.”

I nodded and blushed a furious red as she spoke this way about my fetish.

“You need to be just as single minded with work sweetheart. To get what you want, what you’ll put up with and what you most certainly won’t.”

At that moment I wished I had on my nappy for comfort because what she was saying made sense, although I wasn’t sure it was something I could accomplish and a nappy, well, that gave me different but positive feelings.

“Tomorrow love, wear your favourite disposable to work and draw on that sense of empowerment a nappy gives whilst you knock one... erm.... do what you do.”

I was shocked at mum’s interpretation of why I wear a nappy and even more so because she’d nearly said ‘knock one out’ a phrase I never thought would enter her head. Did I think mum was too innocent to think such a thing? I must be mad but quite spontaneously, we both burst into hysterics.

“Sorry love just got caught up in the moment.” She said through mirth-filled eyes.

*****

Once we’d calmed down, and although the TV was still on, I got to thinking about what mum had said. I know it sounded a bit ‘out there’ but I think I understood what she was getting at. If I was being honest, she’d also given me something I hadn’t thought about and that was getting my own team together. I liked that concept and started working out in my head who I wanted and why.

Tuesday morning and before I went to my office I had things to discuss with the CEO who just so happened to be in.

I laid out my ideas and told him why I needed my own team and that if it was alright by him and HR there’d be a few changes that would benefit the company. Thankfully, he liked my thinking and approved my actions.

Perhaps mum was right about this?

A trip down to HR and I had all the information I needed and the avenues I was prepared to take to achieve my aims.

On Tuesday afternoon, just as everyone was leaving, I called Donald over for a quick word.

When it was just the two of us I told him about setting up a new team and, as he was finding it difficult to keep up with the others in the office, he would be transferred to another department.

I saw the look of shock.

“I can keep up it’s just, it’s just...” He was a bit lost for an excuse.

“No Donald, you’ve been here long enough, and the powers-that-be agree, that as you’ve tried but failed to engage in our current project.” He tried to interrupt but I was determined to see this through. “From tomorrow you’ll be working with Askwith and her team.”

“But that’s a demotion... I’ll speak to...”

“HR has already spoken to Mrs Askwith and she’s agreed to take you on parole.”

“But, but...”

“Your friend Terry also seems to be having problems but I’ll give him a chance as he’s only just joined us and might be still settling in...”

The look of shock turned to daggers and I could see he wanted to retaliate in some way.

“I have spoken to HR in case you weren’t happy and there is a severance package you might consider, but of course, it won’t be anywhere near what your pension would be. However, that’s up to you. Goodnight Donald, have a safe journey home and don’t forget... from tomorrow you’re with Mrs Askwith.”

OK, OK I have to admit it I was wearing one of my fantastic but childish disposables, covered in an even more juvenile patterned pair of vinyl pants. Mum had woken up earlier than me and got them ready as I took a shower.

“You young man, should feel completely in charge today and these will help.”

“Are you sure?”

“I have faith in my boy and he can do anything even wearing a nappy.”

I gave a determined smile. “Especially wearing a nappy.”

I’d dealt with Donald and felt like I was in charge. Strange how a simple (though extremely soft) nappy gave me that extra boost of confidence.

                                                                      *****                                

[Pierry Louys]

Wow what a chapter !!!