Special offer for bedwetters -- (Author) Fiammaverde

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Author: Fiammaverde
Timestamp: Sep 3, 2020 at 10:47 PM
Content: It all started with the company policies on travel expenses. A cap of 65 €/night rule had been fixed and exceptions could be approved only by the CEO. Chris Wuppermann was now planning a last-minute business trip in Germany and hotel prices near the location he had to visit were unreasonably high, apparently because a large exhibition was taking place nearby in the same period. Within the below-65-€/night threshold, it was either a 12 bunk beds mixed room Hostel at 48 €/night, with 2.½/5 stars average reviews, or a lottery with Airbnb “new” hosts at 1 hour driving distance and no reviews, or a place that looked like a brand new nursing home, catering guests with medical conditions. To get a “personalized quotation” for this last option, he had to answer a questionnaire, but they promised fares starting from 52 €/night.

Chris was enough desperate to file, almost randomly, the online datasheet concerning his “medical condition”. Among the given options in the scroll-down menu, night time incontinence seemed to be the lighter item, so he went for that and came up with a 55 €/night fare for the three nights he needed, breakfast included. “Well,” Chris thought, “I can either fake to be a bed wetter for 3 days, or call our dear CEO and ask approval for a 195 €/night hotel. No-brainer decision!,” he concluded while clicking the “submit” button for the nursing home reservation.

The next day, Chris visited the incontinence aisle in a store far away from his usual routes and checked the shelves. After a careful analysis of the available options, he took the smallest male pads which were, according to the printings on the package, “suitable for night-time usage”. It was late in the evening and the store was luckily empty, but despite that Chris still felt uneasy. The package, blackish with horribly evident orange highlights, was dropped inside the cart and buried out of sight. Thanks god for the late hour and the automated registers, thought Chris while scanning the barcode of the obnoxious item and reading “Tena Men level 3, 10 pieces” on the screen.

The next evening, so late in the evening that it was almost already the next day, Chris parked his rental Fiat 500 in front of the nursing home and switched off Google navigation system form his smartphone.

From the outside first and then from the hall, it looked like a modern hotel for business people: essential on the look, with large windows, light colours on walls and some wooden lining on the most prominent architectural lines. Furniture looked sturdy and easy to clean/maintain, but also somehow stylish.

The reception desk was the only brightly lit spot into a place that looked switched off for the night. At the reception stood a young lady dressed in a white and black kimono, a bit like a Japanese noblewoman. Her hair was blonde, however, and her face lines Caucasian. Out of habit, Chris took out his passport while approaching her. The moment he made eye contact, he felt something intense and unexpected: his mind, always running, now felt forced to slow down. The calm that was radiating from the lady was almost frightening, but at the same time a sudden wave of well-being ran down through his tired body.

Without disconnecting eyes, her hand apparently went for the passport but then reached Chris’ hand and gently rested there. “Welcome to the end of the day, Mr. Wuppermann. We were waiting for you.” Her voice felt like a lullaby.

Chris found himself unable to move or to look away. Suddenly, all the world around ceased to exist, the whole universe consisted into himself and that mysterious lady from the other side of the desk. All his attention was aimed at her green eyes and at the warm contact with the receptionist. Time dilated. After several seconds, she added: “You must be really tired, right? That’s ok, just follow my lead.”

From that moment, Chris became fully aware of how incredibly tired he was. It was as if her touch was draining his remaining energies and a strong desire to just close his eyes, right there, was the last thing he remembered clearly.

Then she was on his side, one arm around his torso to sustain him. He was already asleep and yet still able to walk. He did register that this wasn’t normal, but the force to react was gone, he had just to go with the flow. While walking, she kept telling him things, things that made sense but that he was incapable of remembering later. She was probably asking questions, because he knew he did provide answers. He could not remember their conversation, however.

There was another memory fragment from that night he was able to later recall, even if it felt more like a lucid dream. They sat somewhere and Lena, that was the name of the Japanese-like goddess, poured him a tall glass of pale purple liquid.

“Thank you,” Chris said before sipping the slightly sparkling refreshment. It had a fruity, sweet taste, with a complex aromatic tail. “Nice stuff!” he commented and then glanced the bottle sitting on the coffee table. There was a label with a rainbow on it and some text in an unintelligible language, maybe Jewish, but no clear giveaway on how the beverage was made.

“I’m glad you like it. It’s something we specially order in bulk and it’s impossible to find it elsewhere here in Germany,” commented Lena. She then opened a folder and Chris saw a printed copy of the datasheet he had filed. “BEDWETTER” was written out in bold red letters. It felt like a guilty verdict and, for just a brief moment, that was able to break through the relaxation stream running in Chris’ mind.

“Our job for the next three days is to make you as comfortable as possible at night. Your task for tonight is to sleep soundly and don’t worry on how your bladder behaves while you sleep. To make things easier, I am giving you a medication that prevents you from staying awake and worry. I will help you to wear a highly absorbent and very safe underwear, meant to fast catch all the wetness without leaks and then immediately return dry against your skin. The medication and the absorbent underwear will keep you asleep no matter what happens. You will wake up fresh, energetic and everything around you will feel totally dry. The used underwear might have become heavy and a little warm, but will not feel moist. It will soon end up in the dumpster and, with it, any trace of night-time events.”

Chris had tried to object, had tried to stammer something in reply, but suddenly his mind had gone totally blank and his words came out totally unintelligible.

“Chris, there is no reason to be embarrassed. Just lay down and don’t worry about a thing.”

From that point onward, his memories were extremely confused. Lena’s touch was firm and yet extremely gentle. Her grace and her force were hard to imagine together, so she had to indeed be a goddess.

Mostly, he remembered the softness. First there was his back resting on the thick mattress, then the freedom from daytime clothes (how good is to get out of shoes, at the end of the day!) and then softness become fluffiness, first around his crotch and then all around his body. Everything was suddenly smelling fresh and he was going deep, deep, deep into the ocean trench of unconsciousness. The last thing he remembered was to suckle some more of the nice fruity beverage. The beverage was fresh, but warmth spread in his stomach while he gulped it down.

“Night-night, baby Chris,” whispered Lena while taking the empty bottle off his lips, right after the big guy had taken the last drop from it.

The boy was going to be in dreamland up to morning and his kidneys were now fast processing the huge load of fluids and diuretic. The medication contained also a stimulant that caused random contractions of the muscles that surrounded the bladder walls and was going to keep him asleep no matter how intense grew the urge to pee. With no potty stop before bedtime, his bladder had no chance to hold up until wakeup.

Lena activated the hypnotic soundtrack and left the room.

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Author: Fiammaverde
Timestamp: Sep 12, 2020 at 8:01 PM
Content: When someone wakes you up in the middle of a complex dream, you often feel like you were in the middle of a very good movie, but are unable to remember the plot. This was Chris’ first thought when someone lit up the light in his room.

“Good morning, Mr. Wuppermann. It’s time to get up,” insisted the disturber. It was a female voice, but Chris could not recognize its owner.

Chris kept his eyes shut for a little longer, but his other senses were starting to collect data: the bed felt softer than usual, but there was a funny layer under the linens. Sanitizer smell was the most noticeable one, but, from beneath the duvet, a more stale aroma was also perceivable, together with a plastic-like smell. He also become aware of something like a cushion wrapped between his legs and, while vague memories of the events of the previous evening returned to his mind, he started to panic.

Finally, he opened his eyes and fished for his glasses on the bedside table. When he shifted, both the light green duvet and something beneath the forest green linens crinkled a little bit. Smiling amusedly in front of him was a rather young girl with brown skin and long curly black hair. The lavender medical scrub she was wearing was very plain, but managed to highlight her athletic body. “I’m Erika, nice to meet you. Did you sleep well?”

“Very well, thanks.” ‘And now, what’s next?’ Chris thought, ‘how can I get rid of her and get some privacy so to better check my situation?’

“I understand that the protection we placed on you last night is a bit more bulky than what you normally wear.” Her voice was chirpy, her smile innocent, but that could not prevent the wave of embarrassment that hit Chris. “Were you somehow bothered by the bulkiness?”

“Nah, not at all…” ‘…this is not going well’

“Very good, then! Let’s see how it worked, shall we? I’m a bit curious, you know? We pride ourselves of keeping our guests leak free in 99% of cases, but there’s from time to time that odd case where an unusual body shape or a special sleeping position creates issues.” Erika made a couple of steps forward, getting within reach of the duvet.

‘She wants to check… how ‘it’ worked?!?’ defensively, Chris sat up in the bed , raising his torso but keeping his chest well hidden under the duvet. Instinctively, he gripped to the duvet with both hands, to prevent stripping attempts. “I’m actually feeling no wetness down there, honestly, so it looks like my bedwetting did not strike tonight. No need to check,” tried Chris, desperately, while getting a better grip on the duvet. Now, maybe because he was getting nervous, he did need to pee. He looked down for a moment (he was wearing a simple blue sleeveless nightshirt) an then back at Erika, attempting to charm her with a timid smile.

“Well, I’m glad that you don’t feel any wetness, that’s exactly the purpose of the absorbent item you’re wearing. But, those things can be a bit tricky: They don’t really feel wet when used, they just swell up and the wetness indicator on them first becomes blue and then fades away. Let’s check that one to be sure, ok?” Erika’s voice was now condescending, almost pitiful. Gently and slowly, keeping eye contact, she sat down on the bed and touched Chris’ shoulder. “Mr. Wuppermann, I understand you feel tense, but please try to relax. I’m a nurse and this is a nursing home, part of my job is to check and make sure we placed you in the right protection. This will take just a moment, okay?”

Understanding there was no way out and also feeling a bit guilty for stalling the nurse’s job, Chris slowly removed the duvet. Doing that, he got a light whiff of pee smell and, more important, noticed a huge bulge in his crotch. The nightshirt was really a one piece item, he noticed now, fitting snugly on his chest (it was elasticated there) more loosely on his torso.

“Can you please sit on this?” asked Erika after taking the item, unfolding it and placing it on the bed. Chris looked at her questioningly.

“This changing mat is washable and leak-proof. It’s to avoid to stain the bed,” explained Erika, mater of factly.

Thinking about the implications, Chris slowly moved over it and sat in its middle. “Good. Now, just lay down.” Erika took her patient by the shoulders and gently guided him down. While Chris stared at the ceiling, doing his best to restrain his thoughts so to prevent even more embarrassing things from happening down there, the nurse moved fast: she reached for his crotch, unsnapped something and got her hands on his tummy.

The front of the body was raised and then came the sound of 4 velcro straps being opened. Each strap took a substantial pull to come undone. After that, the bandage feeling around Cris’ lower abdomen disappeared.

“Those wipes will feel a bit cold,” warned Erika.

More than cold, Chris perceived the moisture and the tickling feeling. The need to pee become a bit more intense, but nothing unbearable. Now that he was fully awake, additional details of the previous night were resurfacing in his mind: in particular, Lena’s last speech about the ‘help to sleep well and prevent him from worrying about bedwetting’. ‘How the hell did I manage to get into this?’ Chris questioned the white ceiling high above himself. And there, a pattern seemed to emerge from the irregularities of the plaster.

Erika’s wipes were meticulous, fast and efficient, reaching all crevices at least one time. Chris did his best to keep pretending to be elsewhere and focused more intensely on the ceiling: there was some sort of writing etched under the plaster, but the characters weren’t from Latin. Il looked like something much more ancient than that.

“Now please lift a little bit your butt and turn on one side” asked Erika. Chris complied and “…that’s perfect,” praised him Erika while sliding away the ‘night underwear’ and then starting to wipe his B side with the same efficiency level.

He was about to ask if this was really necessary, but then decided against it: to save what remained of his pride, he had to pretend that all this was part of a somehow necessary medical treatment. ‘Do not question a professional operator in a field where (s)he has greater experience than yourself’ was one of his base principles.

“All done! Thanks a lot for your cooperation. Now you can carry on with your normal morning activities and I won’t bother you anymore up to tomorrow,” said Erika and then added, in a slightly mocking tone, “that is, unless you wish to let me choose some special daytime underwear for you to wear.” The whole wiping thing had lasted less than one minute.

Chris sat up, moved out of the changing mat and looked around. Whatever ‘night underwear’ was on him one minute ago, now had disappeared. Erika was now fast folding the changing mat and placing it in a backpack, likely the same place that was now hosting his ‘night underwear’. The pee smell was gone. ‘Did I really pee in it?’ wondered Chris.

He looked up at Erika. “Thanks Erika, I guess, for taking care of me. So, do you think that the… night protection did its job without issues?”

Erika seemed to be really pleased by the question. “Oh, it worked exactly as expected. If you want to know more, you can read this brochure.” Erika fished for some paper from a shelf within the bedside table. “And this is short feedback questionnaire; it would greatly help us if you could fill it. Goodbye, Chris, it was nice to take care of you.” Erika quickly left the room, leaving Chris puzzled on what to think about the whole experience.

Now, thought Chris, the room looked like a normal hotel room and the only awkward item left was the nightshirt he still had on. ‘I have a busy day ahead, I better focus on my job, now’, decided Chris while walking towards the shower.