Re: Dee and Ted - A Cautionary Tale Of Our Time
Dee and Ted. Chapter 6
“Oh?” said Dee. “Do tell.”
Tom sat on the end of the bed, and looked at Dee for a moment. He spoke carefully and seriously, and Dee listened to every word. She was amazed at how much thought Tom must have given this, and how much he seemed to have deduced about Dee and Ted’s marriage.
When Tom had finished expressing his thoughts, Dee stared into space for some time. What Tom had told her was partly a revelation, partly a conformation and partly a direction for a new life. Dee felt both embarrassed, that she hadn’t seen over several years what had been obvious to Tom simply by what he knew of Ted, regretful that she had missed the years of pleasure she might have had by marrying… Tom, she supposed. And then, she felt something else. The idea that Ted was as strange, or potentially odd, or wanted what Tom had suggested, gave Dee feelings that the all-knowing Tom had not talked about. Illicit, exciting feelings, which Dee knew were bound up one one hand with the maternal feelings she got around helpless babies, and on the omhther hand, with darker, not even articulated, feelings from deep within her, feelings that occasionally came towards the surface when she masturbated. Despite her growing tenderness for Tom, Dee didn’t mention the deeper feelings to him as they discussed Ted. But Dee did agree to try some of Tom’s ideas with Ted, and even to consider the medication he had mentioned if his ideas were correct.
And so Dee arrived home from her extended conference leave to an unsuspecting spouse. As usual when she returned from an absence, Ted was happy to see her home, and was as attentive as an excited puppy. Dee saw this behaviour with new eyes now.
She guessed from the freshly laundered bottom sheet that Ted had wet the bed again, and he didn’t deny it when she asked. She was also interested to see what he had been up to left to his own devices. It wasn’t much, Dee could see. Playing computer games, a jigsaw puzzle and Ted’s old box of trains from the garage was in the corner of the living room.
“Did you have your train set out while I was away?” Dee asked him as she prepared their breakfast on her first day back.
“Oh, I was fixing it,” said Ted.
“I see,” said Dee. “Ted, when we’ve had breakfast, there’s something I want to talk to you about in the bedroom, please honey. OK?”
Dee knew that she had fired the first tiny salvo towards her new life. While she habitually gave Ted instructions that she expected him to follow, she had referred to the couple’s bedroom as ‘the bedroom’. It would soon be ‘my bedroom’, and if Tom were right, there would be no objection from Ted. Dee have ‘her bedroom’ would be quite natural.
After breakfast, Dee led Ted to ‘the bedroom’. She patted the end of the bed and told Ted to sit, which obediently he did. She stood in front of him a few feet away, but now towering above him. Ted was look directly at Dee’s denim-clad crotch. He glanced up at Dee as she spoke.
"Ted, in a minute, I want you to get up and strip to your undies. There’s a reason for this. But before you do, I want you to look at the panties on the bed next to you.
Dee had deliberately used the word panties to describe the little pile of Ted’s boxer shorts and jockey briefs next to him in the bed. It was all part of Tom’s plan.
Ted didn’t object to the terminology, and looked down at the little pile.
“Pick up a pair, please Ted,” said Dee.
Ted picked up the top garment, a pair of white jockey briefs.
“Show me the crotch, please Ted,” said Dee.
Slowly, Ted stretched the underpants between his fingers. The crotch was disfigured by concentric dark yellow circles. Ted looked up at Dee like a dog who’d been found eating the cat’s food. Or, as Tom would have said, a guilty child.
“Now,” said Dee sternly. “What is that on those knickers, Ted?”
Dee was implementing Tom’s ideas of the crucial importance of how things are named in how we perceive them.
“It’s urine,” Ted said softly, looking from the underpants to the floor.
Dee reached down and cupped Ted’s chin in her strong fingers. She directed his face upwards so she could look him in the eye.
“That’s right, Teddy,” she said, using the diminutive name she had only ever used jokingly before. “It’s pee, Teddy. It’s wee wee. Now, whose wee wee is it?”
Dee could see the tears forming in Ted’s eyes.
“Mine,” said Ted softly.
“And what about these other panties, Teddy?” Dee asked, showing Ted one by one the soiled garments she had kept from the wash for soaking separately. “Who wet these?”
“I did,” said Ted, almost inaudibly.
Treat him exactly as you would a child, Tom had said. If I’m right, he had said, you’ll get a child-like response. Because that’s what he really is, Dee. That’s why he struggles so much in the adult world. And I don’t even think he wants to be in that world.
Tom’s words resonated with Dee S she listens to her husband, on the verge of tears, owning up to wetting his pants.
“What did you do, Ted?” prompted Dee.
Ted looked down, definitely crying now. Dee took his chin in her fingers again, and lifted his head.
“Teddy, I know this is hard, baby, but it’s for your own good. I want to help you, you know that, don’t you, honey? I want to help you, and look after you, and be your… and just be your best friend,” Dee said, glad that she had stopped herself saying ‘mummy’.
That wasn’t in the script. Not yet, anyway.
Ted was nodding through his tears. Dee noticed that he seemed to be squirming.
“Teddy,” she said, “Stand up please baby.”
Ted stood, and Dee pulled down his track pants. Ted was wearing a pair of jockey briefs, and sure enough, the crotch was wet.
“OK, Ted,” said Dee, pulling down Ted’s briefs to expose his almost hairless little genitals. Dee was amused to see her husband’s little willy pointing straight out at her. She smiled. Tom’s ‘little willy’ in that condition would have made it almost impossible to remove a pair of running pants from him.
Dee ignored he unimpressive little display and sent Ted off to the bathroom, telling him to shower as well.
Meanwhile, Dee picked up the collection soiled undies and took them to the laundry.
Once Ted was showered, Dee sat him on the bed again. She had laid out on the bed a few pairs of brand new underwear for Ted. They were all full cut cotton briefs.
“I want you to listen, Ted,” said Dee. “This is how we’re going to handle this. I have some new knickers for you here. They are very comfortable, and you will see that they have a double lining ni the gusset here, in the crotch, to help absorb any little leaks you might have. So, which colour do you want to wear first?”
Tom had joked that it was a ‘one egg or two’ question. No eggs was not a a option. Ted had to choose between pastel pink, pastel yellow, past blue or a pair of briefs with a flower print on them. It hardly mattered, they were all going into his underwear drawer to replace what was there at the moment.
“Those,” said Ted in a slightly quavering voice, pointing at the pale blue briefs.
“Right,” said Dee. “First, though…”
Dee spread out the towel her husband had arrived with on the bed, and settled Ted’s on it, with his bottom on the centre. Dee picked up a container of baby powder from the bed and gently pushed Ted back until he was lying flat on his back. She smiled again at Ted’s little ‘package’. Now that she had a reliable alternative, she saw Ted’s equipment in a new light. His flaccid penis was about half the length of her little finger, and a little bit thicker. It lay on top of a small scrotum that held Ted’s tiny balls up tight to his body. Dee realised that she had never seen Ted’s sac ‘hanging’ like Tom’s did. In fact, in cold water, Ted’s scrotum contracted to became a mere pinkish bulge behind his little penis.
“What are you doing?” Ted asked from his prone position as Dee dusted has groin with powder, lifting his penis between her thumb and forefinger to spread talc beneath it.
“I’m just putting a little talc on you so you will stay fresher if you wet, honey,” Dee replied.
She finished with the baby powder and, noting Ted’s little penis stirring, hastened to pull the briefs over Ted’s feet.
“We’ll point this down to make sure any leaks go into the double padded area,” said Dee.
Ted didn’t reply as Dee pushed Ted’s penis downwards and tugged the panties up tight to his waist.
“There we are honey, how is that?” Dee asked, standing Ted up and propelling him towards the cheval mirror in the room.
Ted stood silently in front of the mirror.
His reflection looked back. The full briefs contained him fully from thighs to high up his waist. From the front, Ted could hardly see anything of his genitals, and above where there might have been a discernable bump the panties were stretched over the mound of Ted’s pot belly, the result of a soft lifestyle and too much sweet food. If it weren’t for the slightly ambiguous area at the very lowest part of he crotch, anyone would have mistaken Ted, from the knees to the waist anyway, for a narrow-hipped girl.
Ted was still staring at his reflection when a smiling Dee moved behind him and started brushing his hair.
When she had finished, and one would have said that the creature in the mirror, and the one in the flesh, looked ‘pretty’.
“Turn around, honey,” suggested Dee.
Ted turned. The big crescent at the back on the panties where the double gusset was sown was very clear, Dee saw with pleasure. She could feel the crotch of her own knickers getting wet now.
Ted was crying now.
“Ted,” said Dee, putting a consoling hand to her husband’s shoulder, I’m sorry to have had to talk about your wetting, but I think this is a good solution. Lots of children, and some adults too, have problems with staying dry all the time. it’s not an easy skill to master. Some people never do. And lots and lots of people wet at night. I know two little girls who wet their beds at night, just like you do. Only they wet every single night. Not like you, you’re often dry at night, aren’t you Ted?"
Ted nodded.
“Good boy,” said Dee. “Now, we need a top. You can’t go running around in just your panties, can you, no matter how nice they are.”
Ted nodded again.
“Go and find a t-shirt in your second drawer, honey,” said Dee. “I know, there’s a yellow one there. It’s very long. You could wear that and not have to bother with pants. It’s just around the house. Grab the yellow one, baby.”
Ted duly arrived back in the bedroom wearing the long yellow t-shirt. The hem was three or four inches below his pantied bum, and the clinging material, and Ted’s soft flesh, meant that the panty lines of his knickers were very visible.
“You look lovely, honey,” said Dee, “and you’re safe next time you wet a little bit. Now I have some paperwork to do. Do you want to do another jigsaw puzzle, or do you want to play with your train some more?”
It was another one egg or two question. Ted was glad to do either. He spent the rest of the morning playing with his train.
Dee interrupted him at lunch time, and stopped him before he sat down to check his panties for wetness. Ted objected, but Dee insisted on the basis that Ted was often too busy to notice whether he was wet or not. Tom gave in without a murmur, and stood quietly while Dee checked his panties.
So far, so good, thought Dee as they ate lunch. Every single word I have said to Ted this morning, she thought, I might have said to a five year old. And Ted has responded exactly like one.
Dee wondered at Tom’s perception. How could she have lived with Ted for so long, she thought, without realising that she was sharing her house, and her life, with a man who was so obviously childish in his ways?
Dee wondered about the medication Tom had talked about. A ‘biomolecular cocktail’ to ‘bring things into line’ for poor Ted, she recalled him saying. And even something for her. Some tapes made by a colleague of Tom’s who was investigating ‘psychosexual responses’. Tom said his woman might have something that we’d help her accept Ted better. Dee certain,y didn’t want to lose Ted, whom she loved dearly, although she didn’t want to lose her new found source of extreme pleasure - Tom’s extensively equipped body, which he had said was hers now that they were colleagues in the reconstruction of dear Ted.
After lunch, Ted went back to work on his trains. He seemed perfectly happy. When Dee checked his knickers again in mid afternoon, he was wet but not soaked. His excuse was that he was too busy with the train set to notice he needed to go to the bathroom. Dee didn’t make a fuss, and decided to change him range than let him loose with the talc. Ted was again happy to submit. His reward was a little surprise. Dee noticed that he was erect again during his change, so with two fingers and her thumb, she brought him off after about a minute of rapid movement before putting him into a clean pair of full briefs. Ted seemed in a very strange mood after that, alternately crying and clinging to Dee. She decided the best place for him was bed, so she put him in the single bed in the spare room, where he sniffled for a few minutes before sleeping quietly.
Dee woke him an hour or so later, and cursed herself for not thinking of a plastic sheet. Ted had wet in his sleep, soaking the sheets and mattress. Dee stripped both the bed and Ted, and sent her husband off for yet another shower. Things were moving along at quite a pace.
“Ted,” she said once she had him sitting in front of her again.
Ted t on his towel on the end of the double bed and looked up at Dee. She could see in his eyes this time fear as well as a kind of longing, she thought. Well, she decided, here goes.
“Ted, I don’t have to tell you how cross I am that you have wet your bed,” Dee began.
Ted shivered. He was naked and sat with his hands pressed into his crotch.
“It’s not so much that you’re a bedwetter, Ted,” said Dee, using the term about him for the first time, “But that you didn’t ask for some sort of protection.”
Ted looked as though he were about to speak.
“Shh for a moment, Ted, this is important. It’s my fault too, Ted. I should not have put you to bed without making sure you would be ok if you wet. Now I bought some things which I know will help you. I wasn’t sure you’d ever need them, but I know now that you do need these. Will you please go to the linen cupboard in the hall. On the middle shelf you’ll find a pack of what you need, please bring them here,” Dee said.
Tom stood up and silently trotted off to the hall. He returned with a large green and White plastic package. Dee could see his hands trembling as he gave the big package to her.
If Tom were right, this was a crucial moment for Ted. This was like someone opening the door to the forbidden world he coveted, and helping him through that door.
“Ted,” said Dee as she opened the packet and took out a thick white pull-up. “You have clearly reached a stage where you need to wear these, at least at night or when you’re asleep, or when you’re very busy.”
Dee thought she’d add the last little bit to Tom’s prescribed script. It couldn’t hurt. Besides, the idea of having Ted in diapers while he was awake during the day was irresistible to Dee. She was beginning to feel quite excited about it. Whether Tom had simply awakened in her something every other woman with a normal life realised, or whether Tom, or she, for that matter, was unique, Dee found her thoughts increasingly focussed around her sexuality. Not that she minded, but she seemed to be increasingly preoccupied with her breasts and her crotch. She knew Tom was interested in them, but it was odd how she now checked how her breasts looked before she checked her makeup, and how much pleasure she got now from wearing tight pants that showed off her once-despised pubic mound.
Meanwhile, Ted had sat on the bed, dee knew she had work to do. After dusting Ted with talc again, she tugged the thick pull-ups over Ted’s bottom and made sure the garment was as secure as it could be. Tom had warned her that if he wet at night wearing a pull-up, it would probably leak. All the better excuse to get him into proper diapers, which according to Tom, was what he needed and wanted, but could not ask for.
“There you are, baby, all ready for bed,” said Dee, patting her handiwork. “How do they feel, honey?”
To be continued.
