Steve’s Little Issues Chapter 1
Before anyone says anything – or even thinks it – I WILL finish this one! - Sal
‘Steve, we’ve got to do something about this!’ shouted Jan through the open door of the bedroom.
In the bathroom, Steve grimaced as he flung open the glass door to the shower enclosure.
‘No, Jan!’ he replied angrily, turning before getting into the shower and kicking the door shut. He caught the word ‘doctor’ and twisted the mixer tap.
He ignored the continuing muffled shouting of his angry wife.
Jan heard the bathroom door slam and, dropping the wet sheets on the bedroom floor, she pursed her lips and walked into the passage. She halted at the bathroom door, and opened it slowly to hear Steve yelp.
She watched Steve jump to the back of the glass enclosure and curse as he reached forward to adjust the tap.
‘Steve, please,’ said Jan. ‘That’s just the point. You’re not thinking properly. Are you scalded?’ she asked.
‘No I’m not,’ Steve said shortly. ‘And I don’t have to see that doctor again. She said it would stop and it will.’
‘Steve,’ said Jan as gently as she could despite her annoyance. ‘She did not say that. She said it might stop, and it obviously hasn’t. Twice in three nights, Steve,’ she added, looking at the red skin on her husband’s shoulders.
‘And you did scald yourself again? You’re supposed to be relaxing, Steve,’ she said, ‘And taking things quietly. Not charging around like an angry bull and hurting yourself. I’m going to get one of those sheets she mentioned.’
Steve glared at his naked wife through the glass.
‘I am relaxed,’ he said. ‘Or I would be if you didn’t hound me.’
Jan sighed.
‘Steve. Listen to me. Your breakdown was a very serious issue. You’re still having it in some ways, Sue said. You can’t go back to work yet, you are not in good enough shape physically or mentally. That’s not just my opinion, it’s Sue’s and the psychiatrist’s as well. And yours too I think, if you were honest. You need help and you know it, but right now you’re acting like a… a spoiled child about it,’ Jan said.
Steve finished his shower in angry thought. Every collapse is different, Sue had told him and Jan at their first visit to her clinic, although there are common factors. In Steve’s case, his ‘loss of ability to function’ at work had been sudden and catastrophic. Steve didn’t remember anything from turning up on that awful day, to waking up in hospital – with the door to his room locked, as he had discovered when he staggered out of bed to find out exactly where he was,
He was certainly knocked around physically. It was three months since he had left work, and he felt physically weaker rather than stronger. He doubted he could even stand up physically to his wife now. After all, Jan was a gym addict, and worked out three or four time a week. She’d had little trouble lifting Steve from the floor of the shower and half carrying him to the bedroom.
As for his mental state, Steve knew that at the moment he wasn’t the sharp tool he had been. He forgot things. Stupid things like his sister-in-law’s name, even to put on his shoes or once, his pants. Even operating the mixer tap in the shower was a challenge, as he had found that morning. His mind wandered, and he was especially distracted by bright colours an d moving objects.
Even thinking about it all made Steve feel like crying, something he hadn’t done since he was very young. As for ‘ability to function in business’, he was having some difficulty now with figures. Even simple counting needed concentration now, and he was thankful that Jan had managed all the complex paperwork and insurance negotiations when he had left his job.
Steve hated doing the tests the psychiatrist to whom Sue had referred him had made him do, not just because they were insulting to his intelligence – arranging numbered and lettered blocks and so on – but because he actually found them a mild challenge. It was demeaning, and he had to fight back tears then too. And now he’d started having accidents at night. He refused to call it bedwetting – but Jan was talking about putting a plastic sheet on the bed. It was horrible. Steve gave up the struggle as he stood in the shower and for the first time in years he began to cry. He felt a surge of weak ness and vulnerability overtake him as his legs gave way.
He came to lying on the bed, with Jan stroking his forehead.
‘You’re back,’ said Jan. ‘Thank God. I found you on the floor of the shower, with the shower still on, crying your eyes out. But everything’s all right, I don’t think you’re hurt, but I’ve made an appointment with Sue for this afternoon just to be sure you’re OK.’
Steve felt like saying something abut that, but he didn’t want Jan to stop being so nice and gentle with him.
After a few minutes, he felt much better. Almost happy, in fact.
Later, sitting in the waiting room at Sue’s clinic, Steve tried to think objectively. It was hard – his mind kept drifting off. Thinking about the colours of the chairs in the room, or Jan’s hair when he looked at her. He wanted to go to the bathroom, too.
At last it was time to go into Sue’s consulting room. Sue got up form her big desk and asked Jan to sit down in one of the chairs opposite the desk. She asked steve to sit on a comfortable looking sofa to one side.
‘How are you feeling, Steve?’ Sue asked, as Steve made himself comfortable.
‘I have to go to the bathroom,’ Steve replied, feeling a little surprised at the bluntness of what he had just said.
Sue didn’t seem surprised.
‘Of course,’ she said. ‘Just through that door.’
She motioned towards a door, and Steve gratefully got up and went into the adjacent bathroom.
‘…at night occasionally,’ he heard Jan saying as he returned.
Great, Steve thought to himself, looking hard at Jan.
‘It’s alright, honey,’ said Jan. ‘I was just telling Sue about your night-time accidents. She needs to know, sweetie.’
Steve looked at Sue, who was smiling at him.
‘It’s not a big deal,’ Sue reassured him. ‘It’s quite common with your condition. I’ve suggested to Jan that you try a soft plastic sheet to protect the mattress if it keeps happening.’
It sounded so normal, the way Sue said it, Steve thought. Surely there was some medicine or something, he thought. Not a plastic sheet like a kid would have.
‘I don’t want one,’ Steve said.
Again, he was surprised at what he said. He even sounded like a kid, he thought.
‘I mean,’ he began.
‘Steve, lots of people have them on their beds. It’s really nothing to worry about. I have a sheet here you can take home,’ Sue said, picking up a folded package from her desk.
I knew it was a bad idea to come here, Steve thought.
‘No!’ he said forcefully. ‘We’re not having that!’
‘Steve, please,’ said Jan. ‘Sue knows what she’s doing, and she’s trying to help. I want you to apologise for saying that, and then you can thank Sue for helping you.’
Steve looked at the two women. It was OK for them, they weren’t having accidents at night. Jan was like everyone else – she was dressed in a smart top and slacks, and she’d made the appointment and driven them here. She was confident and assertive, and she was, Steve had to admit, in charge now that he was going through this.
Sue looked like a doctor. She was wearing a woolen skirt and a grey knitted top, and it was her clinic. She was at work, being paid and looked after her own life. Steve realized that he was the object of what was going on here - the done to, not the doer. None of this was his idea. He was even wearing what Jan had given him to wear, not a suit or anything, just track pants, sand shoes and a t-shirt with a windcheater over it. He suddenly felt under-dressed, as well as not in control of what was happening. And Sue wants us to have a plastic sheet on the bed, he thought. It seemed slightly unreal, but here he was. No dream, he thought.
‘Well, Steve? Are you going to apologise?’ Jan asked.
Steve looked at Sue, who seemed to expect that apology.
‘I’m sorry,’ Steve said.
‘And thank Sue for helping you,’ Jan prompted.
Steve felt helpless.
‘Thank you for helping me,’ he mumbled, glancing at Sue.
‘Well, that’s better than nothing, I suppose,’ said Jan, looking at Sue.
‘Your polite apology is accepted, Steve’ said Sue brightly. ‘Now that we’re friends again, I want you to pop your pants off and hop up on this bench, please.’
Sue looked smiling at Steve.
‘My pants?’ queried Steve.
‘Yes please,’ said Sue in a businesslike manner. ‘I need to give you a physical check up.’
Steve looked at Jan, who seemed to be on Sue’s side.
‘Go on, honey,’ Jan said. ‘Sue is a doctor, and she needs to have a good look at you.’
Steve gave in, not wanting to have to apologise again. He put his fingers into the waist of his track pants and began to slide them downwards.
‘Shoes first,’ said Jan with a laugh.
‘Oh, yeah,’ said Steve, and bent to untie his laces.
He remembered that Jan had tied them up while he was sitting on the bed at home, which is why they were so tightly tied. He struggled a bit, pulling on the wrong bits, then Jan bent down too, and in a moment had them untied.
‘Sorry,’ said Steve. ‘They were tied up tight.’
Neither of the women said anything to that, and the room was quiet as Steve stepped out of his pants and stood in his top and blue underpants.
‘Top too,’ said Jan, helping him off with his t-short and windcheater.
Steve felt embarrassed to be standing in his socks and jocks in front of the fully clothed women, and turned away from them.
‘Don’t be bashful,’ said Sue, turning Steve back towards her and helping him up onto the padded examination bench.
Steve wriggled a bit on the disposable paper sheet covering the thin padding. Sue helped him by stretching out his legs, while Steve looked at the ceiling.
‘I can see that your underpants are damp, Steve,’ Sue said as she looked him over. ‘Did that happen because you needed to use the bathroom earlier?’
Steve felt himself blushing. He hadn’t even thought about his damp pants. It had been happening sometimes lately, but he had told himself that it was because he was busy, or because they were out or in the car, and he had to wait to get to the toilet. And it had happened now, of all times.
‘I don’t know,’ he replied honestly.
‘Jan said that this has been happening lately, is that right?’ Sue asked.
Steve nodded, feeling ashamed. It was a private thing, though, and why did it have to happen now?
‘Steve,’ said Sue. ‘I don’t want you to worry too much about it. Now Jan told me that you sometimes have to rush to the bathroom. Do you sometimes feel like that, that it’s urgent?’
Steve nodded.
‘Just sometimes,’ he said.
‘I see,’ said Sue. ‘I understand, and so does Jan. But it’s not very healthy to be damp like that there. And it’s not very nice for Jan to have to wash undies like that, is it?’
Sue was right, thought Steve.
‘No,’ he said quietly.
"That’s right,’ said Sue. ‘Now, we’ll get those wet things off and I’ll do the rest of the examination, OK?’
‘Right off?’ said Steve.
She didn’t mean completely naked, Steve thought with alarm. He didn’t have to strip right off last time.
‘Well, you can keep your stripey socks on,’ Sue replied with a laugh, as she patted Steve on the side to get him to arch his back while she pulled down his wet, white underpants. ‘I like your socks, they’re fun,’ she added.
Steve hadn’t thought about his stupid socks. Why did Jan give him those today, he asked himself as Sue pulled his underpants over his feet and put the wet garment aside.
‘I think we’ll throw those out,’ said Jan. ‘They’re quite marked anyway.’
Thanks, thought Steve. I like those undies. What will I wear home, he wondered.
Steve lay back with his eyes closed. He knew he wasn’t exactly over-endowed, and here he was lying naked in front of this woman, but there was nothing he could do or say at this stage.
For all her professionalism, Sue looked with some surprise at Steve’s diminutive assets. He was certainly at the lower end of the scale, she thought, and glanced at Jan, who smiled back. Oh well, thought Sue, love conquers all. She gently lifted Steve’s small penis and felt the little ball sac beneath it. Small testicles too, she thought, and fine, sparse pubic hair. She thought of Jan’s prominent mons and luxuriant bush, which she’d seen at the gym which she often attended with Jan. She wondered how they got on, in a carnal rather than a medical sense, then returned her thoughts to her professional sphere and continued her examination.
Sue went through the rest of the examination, chatting amiably throughout to Steve to put him at ease as she poked and prodded. Steve wasn’t a large man, and with his slight build, soft, fair skin and by now, soft muscle tone, Sue quite enjoyed the process. Steve wore his hair quite long for a man these days, and hadn’t had it cut since he had stopped working. The net effect was to make him look younger than his 32 years. In a word, cute, Suye decided. His general physical development, not just his genitalia, was certainly at the lower end of the spectrum. Sue decided to be careful with the dosages of any medication she might prescribe for him. He’d definitely only need the small size of the underwear she was planning on giving him.
Sue looked across at Jan’s impressive physique. Even without the gym, she was strongly built. Sue wondered again how they managed, then banished the coarse thought. That was their business, she told herself.
The examination concluded, and Sue turned from Steve to talk to Jan. Steve appeared to have zoned out. He didn’t offer any comment as Sue discussed with Jan the physical effects of Steve’s condition until Sue mentioned the damned bedwetting, and the damp underpants. He opened his eyes and grimaced as Jan recounted the increasing frequency of his night-time problems. ‘Three times in the last week,’ he heard Jan say. Steve closed his eyes again. He felt that horrible, unbidden urge to cry coming on, and managed to resist it. Why me, he asked himself miserably, and tried to shut out whatever the women were talking about.
‘Steve, Jan and I will be back in a minute,’ said Sue, resting her hand lightly on Steve’s bare thigh. ‘Sit tight.’
I don’t have much choice, thought Steve, and lay there, wanting to go home.
Sue and Jan returned a few minutes later.
‘OK, Mr Steve, down you hop,’ said Sue, holding Steve’s hand as he climbed down from the bench. ‘Jan’s got some pants for you.’
Steve blinked as he looked at the underwear Jan was holding open for him. The pants looked big and white.
‘What are these?’ he asked as he stepped into the garment.
He could here a soft crinkle as Jan pulled the pants up to his waist. They came a long way up over his hips, and he could feel the leg holes tight around his thighs.
‘They’re just like normal underpants, except they’ve got an extra layer to keep you more comfortable,’ Sue said in a kind voice.
Steve looked down. The pants were much bigger than his jockey briefs, and seemed to puff out a bit. They looked like girls’ big panties, he thought.
‘They’re girls’ pants!’ he blurted out.
‘No they’re not, honey,’ said Sue reassuringly. ‘Girls and boys who need them wear exactly the same thing.’
Sue turned Steve around, and satisfied with the fit, patted him on the rump. Steve pressed the broad white front of the pants uncertainly. At least in his old pants you could see where his willy was. Sue was wondering whether she should have said ‘women and men’ instead of ‘girls and boys’ but Steve seemed oblivious. He seemed so slight with no clothes on that Sue had momentarily slipped back into her former role of pediatric nurse, before she had qualified as a doctor.
‘Let’s get you covered up, honey,’ said Jan, who had been watching the proceedings with silent interest.
It wasn’t every day that you got to watch your naked husband being handled by another woman. Then it was Sue’s turn to watch with equal interest as Jan basically dressed Steve. Neither Jan nor Steve seemed to think doing that was anything out of the ordinary. Different strokes, thought Sue as she watched Steve put up his arms for his t-shirt, and mentally formulated a note in her report. She was fairly sure that Steve’s condition was still changing, and it was fascinating seeing how the couple were adapting their relationship to cope.
Sue turned to the examination bench as Jan was helping Steve with his shoes. She was surprised to see a large wet patch on the paper sheet on the bench. She waited until Jan had finished dressing Steve.
‘Steve,’ Sue asked. ‘Did you want to go to the bathroom while you were up on the bench?’
‘No, why?’ replied Steve, now sitting back on the sofa.
‘No reason, just wondering,’ said Sue.
She had noticed a few dribbles from Steve’s flaccid little penis while she was examining the slight rash around his inner thighs, caused no doubt by wearing wet underpants for too long. At least the ‘trainers’ as they were causally referred to in the clinic would reduce that, provided Jan kept up the change regime Sue was going to recommend. If the lining of the pants didn’t wick away the moisture sufficiently, a sprinkling of talc would help, although she doubted Steve would like it much with its childish overtones. Sue was pleased that he seemed to accept the transition to the trainers so well as it was. The likely move to diapers at night that looked inevitable was a different matter, but she had some strategies to help Steve and Jan with that when it became necessary. The main thing was to keep Steve happy.
Sue caught Jan’s eye, and Jan, still standing, looked across at the football sized wet patch, and looked questioningly at Sue.
‘It doesn’t matter,’ said Sue. ‘Steve, why don’t you use the bathroom now, just in case, while I just tidy up some paperwork with Jan.’
‘OK,’ said Steve, standing up and trotting towards the adjacent bathroom.
‘You’ll have to pull those pants right down, Steve,’ said Sue as Steve reached the door. ‘You might even find it easier to sit down.’
‘OK,’ said Steve.
‘Oh, he sits down anyway,’ said Jan. ‘So he doesn’t make a mess.’
Thanks a lot, thought Steve as he shut the door behind him. The sitting down to pee had started because sometimes when he was in a hurry he made a mess on the floor. Not every time, thought Steve with some annoyance, and he tried to clean things up when it happened, but Jan was a bit obsessive about clean bathrooms. She would even ask ‘Are you sitting down?’ when he went to the bathroom, and it was easier to sit then try to fake sitting, and there really was no chance of making a mess on the floor then either.
While Steve was in the bathroom, Sue explained that Jan would have to make sure to check on Steve’s underpants a couple of times a day if he didn’t volunteer any information, either through embarrassment or as it seemed from the wet bench, through being unaware of his condition.
Steve finished peeing, stood up and pulled the big pants up from his ankles. He put his fingers into the crotch and felt the layers of material between his fingers. He could feel the dampness there. That often happened, but it was only a bit damp. He could feel the layers of material sliding over one another. There was a thin inside layer then a thicker layer of something like towelling, then a plasticcy layer, by the feel of it, then the fine outside layer. At least Sue said lots of people wore them, and she would know. Steve pulled the pants right up. They certainly were big, coming right up to his navel, but they didn’t feel too bad. Nice and warm, in fact. He pulled up his track pants, and felt the waist of the track pants stop well before the top of the underpants. His top would cover that, he thought. Steve had to admit that they made him feel a bit special.
To be continued.
). Meanwhile, back at Jan and Steve’s…