Jessika’s New Life – Chapter Six
It wasn’t long after that that Amanda came up to me to talk. She had down on the couch next to me, and easily pulled my attention onto her. “Your lawyer called, and apparently despite being innocent, due to the situation, you will still have to go through parts of the prisons release program. Part of that are a pair of mandatory doctor appointments that are…well…today. We are going to have to leave in an hour.” I frowned slightly. What I did know of the release program was that they usually sent you to a halfway house where you got used to being in an adult body again, and adjusted to your old body. It usually involved frequent doctor visits, both with general doctors, and psychologists. There was usually much therapy at this time as well. It also frequently involved some degree of potty training. Because while the old body still had it’s muscles intact and fine, the mind wasn’t used to controlling it. Much of that stuff clearly didn’t apply to my circumstances. But it appeared the doctor visits did apply. This wasn’t surprising, though it didn’t sound like this appointment would be fun. However it did raise a question. “Wich docr I goda see?” Of course I could not hope to get that out very well. But I was more than used to my lisps by now. I could only hope Amanda would grow used to it soon. She looked confused for only the barest second, before figuring it out. “Both. You have an appointment with one, then an hour and a half later, the psychologist.” I sighed to myself. This would not be a fun evening. I could only hope my more detached mood held through to the end of the day, so I wouldn’t break down if the psychologist felt the need to examine all the unpleasant events that had happened lately.
It seemed like I got to watch another cartoon, and just barely get fully distracted from thoughts about the doctors I was to see, before I was being called over for a change. The typical routine was followed. Legs up, diaper off, a good deal of wiping followed by powder, then a new diaper, then some plastic pants to prevent any leaks, which had saved me a few times over my time in this body. This was followed by being carried to the car. Apparently my walk was too slow. But I enjoyed the feeling of beign carried a bit, and didn’t let it bug me. In the end, we made it to the appointment a few minutes early. However, as I expected, my name was not called at my allotted time. As was tradition, the doctor was no doubt far behind schedule. While this doctor did work with clients who were going through the typical prison release system, he also had other patients. I wondered idly which ones were which. Considering any here would have their adult bodies, it would be impossible to tell. However as I sat down and fidgeted with the hem of my dress, people seemed to find me cute and verbally complemented me. In the end I raised buried my facebehind Amanda, blushing furiously, which only seemed to worsen the situation. I wouldn’t have done that, and possibly made Amanda awkward, but dang it if I didn’t feel an intense need to hide from the complements. Eventually I pulled my face out, after what was probably only a few minutes, but felt like 20. “Sowwy” I apologized to Amanda, who just smiled at me, and shook her head slightly, clearly not bothered by it. Henceforth whenever anyone looked at me, I blushed and hid my face behind my hair, turning my face so that it pointed definitely away. However I did notice that one person a man not surprisingly, seemed to be studiously avoiding looking at me overmuch. I entertained the chance that he was a prisoner and possibly recognized me. There was no way for me to know however, because I never saw any other prisoners true body.
Eventually, about 20 minutes late, I was called. Due to my size and body, Amanda came with me. Partially this was to appear more normal, partially because she was instructed to. We were lead to a room, and at a nurses instruction, I was lifted up and put on the odd bed/seat thing with paper that all doctors offices have. Then came the blood pressure, oxygen level testing. After that my height and weight were messured, and I was placed back on the paper seat thing. Another 10 minutes passed, in which I was quiet and fidgety, playing with the hem of my dress. When the doctor came in, there was a traditional greeting. Then came less normal talk. “Well, you are the first I have checked who has had to keep the body. Though I imagine it was inevitable. I am not specialized in children, but I know enough, and anything more specialized I will refer you to a child doctor for.” I nodded slightly, hoping the subject would change. He launched into his testing. First he used the stethoscope to check heart rate and breathing. At least I always assumed that was what he was testing. “Lay down, this might tickle” Aside from the fact that I was wearing a dress that had to be nearly removed, he managed to freeze me half to death with hands I was sure he intentionally stuck in a bucket of salted ice water, just to be mean, before entering the room. But the worst part was that I wasn’t able to avoid squirming around giggling, despite his freezing hands, which only prolonged his efforts. But what came next was the worst part. My dress was put back to normal, though raised up. “I need to examine your privates, to be sure everything is healthy.” Now as an adult male, I had had my privates examined in a physical many times, so I knew this was part of it. But I was a bundle of slightly scared and highly awkward nerves. He made a nod at the expected diaper, and then opened it up, proceeding to examine all my little girl parts. Unfortunately, at one part of the examination, I got so awkward and slightly frightened with allt he unusual sensations, that I peed all over his hands. And then I couldn’t stop it, as all these bodies are incontinent by design, so I urinated all over the paper covered seat, ruined my dress by covering it in urine, and somehow, due to him holding the privates open at the start, managed to hit his belly and below for a second before he let go, starting the covering of the thing I was laying on. Needless to say, after that, I was crying. And quite heavily at that. I was covered in a urine soaked dress, his hands and forearms were covered, and I had managed to get some onto his shirt and such as well in the process. The whole bed-chair-paper covered seat-thing was covered, and it was leaking all over the floor. In essence, I had also turned his office into a puddle.
I was moved to the bathroom. And because there wasn’t a clean space to re-diaper me, I was moved without a diaper on, in a urine soaked dress. You can imagine the looks I got from a few nurses and the receptionist. I was still crying of course. In the bathroom I was changed out of the dress. My urine-soaked hair was washed in a large sink, before I was re-diapered. A nurse showed up with a plastic bag big enough to store the wet dress in. In the end, Amanda had fortunately brought another dress. I donned that, and was carried to a new room. 5 minutes later we were informed that the doctor would send us the results and we were free to leave. Unfortunately, the nurses had been talking loudly amongst themselves, so it was abundantly clear the entire waiting room had to have overheard. Amanda looked at me, a sympathetic look with a measure of pity. “Should I carry you out, or would you prefer walking. Though it galled me to be such a burden, I consented that she could carry me, by raising my arms. I hid my face the entire time, and I definitely heard a chuckle or two in the waiting room before we left. Next came a short trip home, and fast bath, that I was much grateful for. The bath was short, entirely based around getting me clean, with some scrubbing, and much hair washing. Afterwards, Amanda towel dried me, and I was re-daipered, and off to the next appointment. I cursed the person who scheduled it this way vehemently in my head. All I wanted was an end to it. After beign buckled into the car seat, we took off. “I sowwy…I din mween to…” I apologized again, probably the fifth time. “It wasn’t something you could control, you don’t need to apologize.” That was what she had sad earlier too. But I felt like the situation demanded I continually apologize anyway. I felt horrible, and incredibly embarrassed.
The End of Jessika’s New Life – Chapter Six.
If you want to read more stories about ABDL girls you can find a list here: Diaper Girls – Index