Trading Post

Part 4 What seems to have happened since this nappy wearing had become more than just a preventative measure, I’ve somehow slipped into being some kind of teen spokesperson for this type of thing. Weirdly all the stuff I’ve been given to wear has made me feel special, protected and comfortable.  All words I’ve used in my reviews. I’m not sure if it’s down to being more at ease with the situation or mum’s, and I s’pose Avril’s, encouragement to make the most of my condition. Whilst I have this problem, and able to ‘talk’ about it, I can maybe go some way to alleviate other young people’s worries about anything similar they might be going through. According to the pharmacist, it was mum’s openness talking about it without any denial or embarrassment that made her think we were both ideal to break down some of the awkwardness others might feel. Avril told her that the company involved was using selected independent pharmacies as trial markets for their new products, which they hoped to release to wider general public once they knew if the items they offered would be successful. It was simply a trial period and all products used and reviewed by those selected would be at cost or free depending on what they decided to launch. Avril had been insistent to mum that our personal opinions would, in the long run, make a huge difference and therefore be incredibly important to both users and buyers of these products, which apparently is not necessarily the same thing. You would have thought that these companies would have done their research, and of course they had, but it was a growing area of unknown reactions. It would appear that no two teens with anxiety issues were alike and that finding a product to suit one would be the opposite of what the other wanted.  Therefore, my input was crucial when others were afraid or too self-conscious to talk about such issues. There was an awful lot of denial going on by people who would have benefitted greatly from wearing protection.   It’s amazing that in such a short space of time my opinion of what I thought I was doing had changed so dramatically. That was down to the words of mum and Avril... “This is important work”. # My night time nappies had become thicker, but somehow softer and gentler to wear and acted more as a sleep-aid rather than something simply to soak up piss. Even the special y-fronts had been a revelation; slowly absorbing my dribbly pee and yet, as they bulked out slightly, became nicer to wear. Even with all the running and tackling on the football pitch, they didn’t feel like I had on any protection at all. So that was an incredible benefit -simply forgetting I had them on. The thing was, although I knew they were just a slightly different design to a pull-up, they looked like they were meant for a guy who perhaps would have a problem admitting to needing such a perceived childish item. It not only worked well; it dispelled that guilt some have that they actually need help because of urinary issues (and perhaps teen boys are in the majority on that particular graph). However, I had been warned that the ‘would-be y-fronts’ wouldn’t hold a full urinary assault, only a relatively small amount but one that hopefully would give enough time to visit a nearby bathroom. The other drawback was that they were considerably more expensive to produce than the usual nappies or pull-ups. No doubt there is a female equivalent of me giving similar comments to her pharmacist. Of course, as Avril received more and more of my undoubtedly positive reviews and comments, she was finding more and more products for me to try. Soon it appeared that nearly all the surfaces in my bedroom were covered in things desperate for my endorsement. Well, that’s what it looked like and the bizarre thing was I loved the fact it was my opinion, my seal of approval, that was doing all this. I had easily slipped into this position and secretly (or so I thought) loved what I assumed was a very important but niche job. Mum told me that, according to Avril, it was a growing area of concern because teen anxiety issues were becoming more of a problem. Great swathes of young people were getting frazzled, not with just school work but social media acceptance and media portrayal in general. The amount of pressure to be something, or like someone, or be accepted by others, was immense. Whilst a reaction to all this stress – anxiety pants wetting, beds and undies was almost reaching epidemic proportions.   Mum had said she’d noted with a great deal of pride, despite my initial reluctance, how I’d thrown myself into the work. She said my reviews were both personal and ‘laser sharp’ and that I’d become at ease with wearing all manner of nappies and protection. She saw this as a bonus and added that particular observation to her own comments from a parent’s perspective. ‘If the teen can accept the need for protection and is comfortable wearing it - that is the battle all but won’ That was one of the reasons that the products were not only practical for where they were needed but also offered a layer of comfort to help soothe unease. Soft, fleecy material offered such properties because they often carried a ‘memory’ associated with the material. A special blanket from childhood, a teddy or stuffed animal... something that would link back to a time in their life where being fretful was not a problem - a worry soothed by holding such an item. Of course this wouldn’t apply to everyone, that was why they were desperately trying new innovations and, again according to Avril, why the companies where so keen to get the feedback I was offering. She said they were not only pretty impressed that I’d picked up on that fact but also appeared to be ‘on board’ with the concept of ‘memory regression’ through the sensitive fabrics they used on each product they offered. However, throughout all this, my dick still dribbled and continually woke up with a soaked nappy. Thankfully my date with the doctor was looming large so maybe I’d get some kind of answer from him. The thing was, and this might have been picked up on by mum, I didn’t mind the thick, soft nappy every night. I suppose it was because I was usually wearing one most of the time these days and just got used to it being there... I think? # ‘Memory Regression’ was that something real or just an advertising slogan and more to the point, was I on board with it? Did I want to be regressed or was it more about a pleasant childhood memory – well, that was my take on it anyway. School was coming to an end for summer break but wearing protection hadn’t been the problem I thought it was going to be. Of course I still got the occasional comment from Terry but never anything nasty and as far as I could see, he’d mentioned it to no one else. All that had passed off without incident although my wetting continued but each item I’d been given to try out had proved pretty good at its job. Mum and dad were supportive; they were used to seeing me around the house wearing nothing but some new or improved nappy or colourful protective gear. Every spare moment I now had I spent thinking about this concept. I wore whatever they sent me and found myself happily commenting and incredibly enjoyed wearing the newest item. But, I had to ask myself if I was really appreciating it and if so why? Suddenly a thought crept into my head - was there something else going on that I wasn’t aware of but maybe should be? Yes, the ‘Memory Regression’ idea was plaguing my thoughts, was it a good or bad thing? I understood that for a person my age, or anyone who wasn’t a toddler but needed to wear a nappy for some reason, might have worries about such a product. There were social, personal and practical concerns that went with it, so, I could see the argument for a company offering such a ‘memory’ to take any social awkwardness out of such a ‘conflict of emotions’. So, the answer to the question I’d posed to myself earlier - I could see the benefits to that being a positive thing? Nevertheless, I knew from my own experiences using the products so far that I had come to love each and every item. Whatever title or description they wanted to use didn’t bother me - I got the company’s concept and quite liked it. Perhaps weirdly, I was wearing 24/7 and felt comfortable doing so and although I could see this as a ‘good thing’ I was beginning to wonder if I was becoming reliant on them. Was it possible that would lead to wanting them when I actually no longer physically needed such protection? So, was this reliance or ‘memory’ a bad thing? Perhaps I was lulled into accepting them because so far, apart from Terry, I had no reaction from others. All my other friends were oblivious to what I was wearing and Terry only commented on my being his “little baby brother” when there was no one else in earshot. Oh, and that was another thing, when he said that, I now quite liked the idea but I put that down to the fact that I was at ease wearing what I had to wear but of course, there was probably another, more obvious reason? # I was sitting typing all this info on my laptop but looked down at what I was wearing. It was nine o’clock at night and I had on a fleecy onesie, which was holding up a thick fabric nappy, which itself was surrounded by the soft, silky feel of a pair of baby vinyl pants. I say ‘baby’ because of the childish design they had all over them, which at first made me baulk at wearing such an item. All these different products were from their anticipated, ‘Memory Regression’ range, although, after other responses hadn’t been that positive about the slogan they were thinking of rebranding it to something more like ‘Dreamtime’ or something similar. Nevertheless, for me, the wonderful comfy fleecy nappy seemed the perfect accompaniment to the onesie and should, in fact, needed to be paired together. It was like I just thought it natural they should be worn as a set... and the onesie... Ohhhh... now that WAS an experience! I remembered this thought process going through my head at the time and didn’t think anything about it. I stood in front of the mirrored wardrobe and looked at myself – the reflection was clear; I’d become a teenage baby. A shiver of realisation and annoyance shook my body and I was just about to remove the lot when, out the corner of my eye I saw some other items on top of the chest of drawers. I walked over and there was a small Teddy bear (a thank you from the company) and amongst the powder and barrier cream containers was a purple dummy. It was that which had really caught my eye because it had stood out by its size. I hadn’t used a dummy since I was a toddler and I’d certainly not used this one, which was large enough for an adult. I don’t know why, or under what compunction, but almost without thinking I popped it between my lips and immediately started sucking. Surprisingly, all that I was wearing made sense. I needed the thick padding because I wet myself and I needed all the rest because it made me happy, comfy and secure. How could I not wear something that offered so much? I climbed into bed still sucking on that piece of plastic and silicon but it made me feel like I hadn’t felt before... and was that a taste of fruit? I wanted mummy to come and tuck me in and kiss me bye-byes. But, as I sucked I felt myself drifting off into a peaceful sleep all snug and protected with a lovely warm glow coming from my nappy. I was aware I was wetting myself but as I was in a lovely, happy dream full of colour and fun, it just didn’t matter. Bruce was curled up at the foot of my bed so all was right with the world. # Mum came in to wake me up for school. “I’ve called you twice,” she said by way of explanation “but you must have been hard.... what the....” She looked surprised. “Since when have you been using a dummy?” She was looking down at me as I was still taking in the morning and trying to fathom out what she was talking about. My pillow was soaked with drool and of course I could feel my nappy was equally wet. I tried to speak and it was only then I realised what she was talking about. “Ermmm” At that moment I had no response. Drool was dripping and making damp patches on the front of my onesie. I quickly pulled the dummy out as if I was guilty of some incredible gaffe. “Mmmmm,” she looked curiously for a moment and then started to leave, “You’re late, very late and have twenty minutes to get ready so... get a move on” I was still holding the dummy and wondering how and why I had used the damn thing. I vaguely remembered seeing it amongst all the other stuff on my dresser but, as far as I knew, I hadn’t put it there, and, judging by mum’s reaction, she hadn’t either, so had it just arrived unnoticed among the last batch? I had no idea why I’d slept late as that was most unlike me, I like to be ahead rather than rushing around. However, I had to admit I’d had probably the best and deepest night’s sleep for quite some time– I’d been relaxed, comfortable and my head had gone to a place of happiness the moment it hit the pillow. Oh, and something else I had the flavour of blackcurrant in my mouth. As I eventually roused myself I had to acknowledge that my style of pyjamas had become more childish. The comfy thick fabric nappy, playful plastic pants and joyful onesie (all comments I knew I’d made in my last review) had made sleeping, and peeing, an unfussy part of my night time procedure. The small teddy had also spent the night with me and I remembered happily hugging it as I sucked on the dummy. I felt really happy. Anyway, it was time to stir myself and get off to the last day of school term. Thankfully I had my uniform and stuff in general already laid out so after a quick release from my onesie and a wipe down, I slipped into a newly designed and much thinner disposable they hoped would be more convenient for daywear, less obtrusive. I was to be the first to try it out and mum hadn’t minded that some of the things the companies sent were disposables... so she’d changed her mind a bit as well. # “Morning Avril.” “Morning Susan,” the pharmacist greeted her favourite customer with a huge smile. The two had become firm friends and this was a social meeting for coffee. However, the dummy John had been sporting that morning was a bit perplexing and Susan wanted to know if she should be worried. After they’d ordered a couple of cappuccinos and settled down Avril sensed that there was something on her friend’s mind. There was a slight lull in conversation. “Susan, you look like something’s troubling you...” Susan shrugged, “Yes, well, this morning I saw that John was sucking on a dummy and, from his drool-soaked pillow, it looked like he’d been nursing on it most of the night. I’m not sure about this new development.” Avril took in what her friend was saying and then took a moment to respond. “Well, I don’t think it’s anything much to worry about...” She was happy at this turn of events and was thinking on her feet. “You don’t...?” “No love, I don’t. You see, all the latest ‘teen’ packs of nappies and disposables now include a free soother, dummy, paci, call it what you will because the feedback to the company has overwhelmingly supported the idea.” She smiled at her not overly convinced friend. “Although a teenager is highly unlikely to request a dummy, in many surveys it has been found to be the one thing that can almost immediately help reduce stress.” She saw Susan take an interest and the pharmacist’s face had brightened as she enquired, “First things first though, did he enjoy using it?” “Ermm, I think so but, well, he’s sixteen and it just didn’t seem...” “Look Susan, there are many reports and surveys that say that a dummy helps people relax. In Japan and other places in Asia, stressed out students and even company executives are taking to using them as an aide to reduce those times when the world, job and expectation are just getting too much.” “Really?” Was Susan’s surprised response. “As a mother you must remember using a dummy to pacify your crying child and the effect sucking on that little teat produced. Well, the company wondered if it might have an equal effect on our anxious teenagers but, because of social unacceptance and general teen angst, they would be unlikely to use one if they had to ask for it.” She watched to see if Susan was buying any this. “However, by providing one in the pack, there appears to be a primal urge, possibly because of a hidden memory of when they were a child, to suck and be relieved of any mental burden they may at that time be carrying.” “Hmmm, I suppose that makes sense.” Susan nodded. “Well I can tell you, judging from the first batch of reviews; both parents and kids seem to appreciate them.” She laughed lightly as the worry from her troubled friend began to lift. “It’s good that John has tried it, in fact, what colour is it?” “Um, purple I think,” indicated Susan. “Mmmm, blackcurrant... they are colour coded and made in several flavours to help with that initial taste. Most feedback has said that it has helped amazingly with sleep patterns, comfort, a relaxed mental state... it seems that a dummy is what everyone has been waiting for... and it was available all along.... so who knew?” She laughed at the absurdity of the situation. “So you think it’s okay for him, a sixteen year old, to be sucking on a dummy?” “Well, as I say, from what we’re seeing from feedback, it’s not only okay, it’s a much needed tool to help any stressful issues fade away. You see Susan, as we’ve spoken about before, there’s a lot of the fear and embarrassment that goes with teenage bedwetting, or damp undies, that actually makes things worse. So, if we can release them from that fear, although it doesn’t cure a ‘leaky tap’, at least doesn’t put added pressure for secrecy or shame on the situation.” “Mmmm, yes, I can see that... but it was such a shock to see.” “But Susan, tell me the truth, was it that much of a shock now you’ve got your boy to wear nappies and onesies... you’ve said in the past he looks cute when wearing a nice fitting nappy...” Susan shyly and guiltily shrugged and acknowledged that she did indeed find it all made her teenage son look damn cute. The added dummy, although a surprise, had made him look even more adorable so she wasn’t sure if she should be complaining or not. After all, that ‘cuteness’ had been a visual bonus and even though she felt guilty about it there was no denying her motherly feelings were in overdrive every time she saw him in something juvenile and adorable. “So, if he’s happy and you’re happy... and the bedding is being kept dry... I’d say that the products were doing what they were designed to do... wouldn’t you?” They chinked the cappuccinos together “Cheers, I suppose you’re right.” The two women settled down to talk about other things and make their friendship* that much stronger. * Meanwhile, several social media sites using their reports, reviews and conversations to promote the company’s range of products had been set up. Photos were added (though for privacy - not of the actual reviewers) to emphasise that these were real comments from real people. As a result the sites were seeing a huge daily upsurge in new and interested subscribers. As predicted, teenage anxiety was indeed a growing area to exploit. There was another thing that Avril had not told Susan... the dummy’s flavour was fairly addictive. This was nothing to do with the nappy company but a little side line that she and a ‘chemist’ friend was hoping to introduce. The teat was permeated with a new ‘soft’ drug not unlike a ‘fruity’ ecstasy... though not quite as mind bending but did leave a feeling of wellbeing, love and a wish for happier times. # tbc #

I don't think colleagues know that I have a wet diaper, and if they do; they don't care, and neither do I. After I change my wet and messy morning pink MegaMax diaper, I am going to wear a Seni Quatro diaper and satin diaper pants to work. I'll wet throughout the day but no poopies at work.

"Messy Monday Morning" in a pink MegaMax USA diaper that is also very wet. The pink diaper looks so fresh and innocent, but when I decide to change the inside won't be so fresh, but still innocent.

he has told me  work on kegels  and  urge control  from  a pelvic floor  tharpist  

I don't get through many disposables, as I'm mostly in cloth nappies.  When I do have disposables to get rid of, I just put them in with our normal rubbish, in semi-transparent plastic bags.  The binmen don't really look at what's in the bin, they just roll it to the lorry, which picks it up and empties it.  These days I'm not really bothered whether they do spot the nappies in there anyway - I'm doing nothing wrong. The same with hanging cloth nappies on the line to dry - my neighbours can see the line, but if they join the dots and realise I must be in nappies, it's not a big deal for me. I'm not flaunting it, just getting on with my life.