The Doctor's Office

Chapter 1
The Doctor's Office

It's a waste of time, but it's company policy. Better to just be patient.

I walk to the water cooler, helping myself to another plastic cup of water.

The waiting room really looks more like that of a pediatrician's office, and not a corporate company doctor. With baby blue walls with blocks and numbers, painted clouds in the ceiling, and even some colourful framed pictures of cartoon characters. The reading material consists of comic books and picture books. Nothing to satisfy an adult mind.

Most of the waiting patients fit right in with the decor, being younger cubs. Some with what I presume are their mommies.

Besides the mommies, the only adults are me and another guy, a tiger who looks like he's a few years younger than me. We're both wearing the same hospital gowns that we were told to put on upon arrival. Presumably they want to do a more thorough check-up. We've both undergone a few basic tests, taken some blood, and gotten our vitamin shots by a friendly if somewhat demeaning nurse, and are now both waiting for the doctor.

I fill my cup again, looking at the clock, swishing my white vulpine tail under my gown. How much longer will this take? I'm a healthy young adult, and I'd rather be doing something productive than being stuck in a waiting room. Especially this waiting room.

I glare over at one of the kids, a bunny making loud vrooming sounds as they maneuver a plastic toy truck around on the floor. I quietly groan and roll my eyes as I take another sip. I should have brought my noise cancelling headphones. They were expensive, but are great for blocking out sounds. Definitely would have brought them if I'd known I'd be occupying the same space as a bunch of tots for any prolonged period of time.

At least there's been nothing to complain about when it comes to the smell. The sterile smell of industrial antibacterial soap you'd expect is mostly replaced by a sweet, floral, almost vanilla-like smell. Could it be baby powder? I'm rarely around young cubs.

I take my seat, looking over at the clock. Its numbers are large and colourful, presumably to make it easier to read and more appealing to cubs. I wonder how much longer it will take.

I engage in small-talk with the tiger to help pass the time. He's not bad. I wonder if we can be friends? I blush as I realize how childish such thinking is. Maybe this waiting room is getting to me. But he does seem nice, and it wouldn't be so bad having another... acquaintance.

We keep talking, until he suddenly perks his ears, taking a curious sniff. I sniff too, wondering what he's smelling, then we both wince. Yup, one of our fellow patients has had an accident, and the smell is only getting worse. I cough and cover my snout.

Some of the mothers talk amongst themselves, casually checking their 'little ones'. They don't seem to be in any hurry, and none of the kids seem particularly perturbed.

The culprit seems to have been found as a lioness lifts up her cub, feeling his rear with a paw and giving it a sniff. She loudly and happily calls him a 'stinky little boy', then showers him with praise and affection as she bounces him in her paws, patting his behind and giving the odd lick to his muzzle and cheeks.

It's a ridiculous scene, both amusing and unsettling. Why would anyone express such delight in their child doing something so unremarkable and disgusting? Let alone bringing them in for a cuddle, knowing full well what's in their pants. Would you really want to give your child positive attention for public defecation? Wouldn't you want to handle the matter as quickly and discretely as possible?

I watch, almost mesmerized and most certainly confused, until she walks off with what looks to be a diaper bag and her cub.

I quietly express my dismay to Gawin at the scene we witnessed, and while not as offended as me he nods in agreement. We refill our cups, and he swears as he almost stumbles in his gown. It looks like they gave him one that was too large.

Fortunately the foul smell quickly fades, and we're free to keep talking undisturbed. Or, relatively undisturbed. There's still the sound of cubs playing in the background. Vrooming, babbling, inane cub banter. Mommies talking about their cubs. Occasionally a nurse comes in to check on everyone, and takes one of the mother-and-cub pairs in to the doctor's office. There's the sound of burping after some younger cubs are fed their bottles, which seems to make Gawin giggle. It strikes me as kind of childish, but then he is younger than me.

Oh! That reminded me, I used to be able to burp on at will when I was a kid. It's been ages since I tried it. It used to make all my friends laugh, and agitate my teachers. When you're studying for an exam at university or are at a job interview, it's not exactly a useful talent. But maybe I still got it.

I'm a bit rusty, but I manage to get out a pretty decent burp. Gawin perks his ears and looks at me with wide eyes, then chortles and claps his paws together. I grin. I still got it.

I let off a few more burps, to Gawin's delight, when we're interrupted by a kangaroo nurse. Seems they finally noticed how large his gown was, and wants to give him something more fitting. So that he won't trip on his oversized gown, she picks him up and carries him off to get changed. Not before picking up his shoes and socks from the floor, which must have fallen off him.

I look up at the clock. How much time has passed? It's hard to tell, I was having so much fun just talking with my new friend. I grab a comic book nearby. May as well kill some time. It's a simple super hero story, but it's not too bad! In fact, the further in I get, the more engaging it is. I wonder if the bad guy will get away.

Excited and restless, I fidget and bounce my legs, but it gets harder once my hindpaws are no longer touching the ground. But letting them dangle or gently kicking them fulfills my need for restlessness. My shoes fall off, which I find odd, but I probably tied them too loose. I can put them on once I'm done reading.

But before I'm doing, I feel the urge. I need to pee. Right now.

Putting the comic down, I jump off my seat and make a sprint for the nearby bathroom.

Or so had been my plan. Instead, I trip over my hospital gown and take a fall, hurting my elbow. Why did they give me such a big gown?! They should have given me one that was my size! I hadn't even noticed it was too big.

Suddenly, I don't need to pee as badly. Uh-oh. Looking down, I both feel and see a growing puddle of my own pee.

I'm too big to cry, but I do sniffle. This isn't fair! It's not my fault. I didn't even want to be here.

There's some murmuring of concern among the mothers there, when suddenly I feel a stranger's paw on my back. Looking up, it's a vixen. Not an arctic fox like me, but a red fox. She gently rubs my back and coos at me, speaking in a warm, slightly concerned voice. While she's a stranger, it feels nice having someone there in my moment of need, and I don't object to her lifting me up to carry me off to get cleaned. I'd hoped she'd bring me in for a hug, but she holds me at a slight distance, presumably to not get pee on her clothes. That's smart, but I feel I could really use a hug.

She walks into one of the bathrooms, placing me on a soft table, taking off my pee-drenched gown. I blush. I certainly hadn't expected this scenario to play out today, naked in front of helpful stranger. She's pretty cute, too.

She uses the wet-wipes and tissues nearby to wipe at my wet fur, getting out the urine. The table is a bit small, but it's not too bad, and she explains it's better for her back to have me laying on the table than to have me standing on the floor, which makes sense. She smiles and hums, which has a calming effect and does help make the whole ordeal less embarrassing.

Once she's satisfied, she reaches into her bag, pulling out some items of clothing. She slips on some underwear, which looks to have some rather colourful and childish décor. Is that PAW Patrol? They feel kind of thicker than regular underwear, faintly crinkling whenever I move. This is followed by elastic shorts and a t-shirt, also with a similarly childish appearance.

While the clothes fit, they're a bit tight, and I'm not exactly happy about their childishness. But I'm not in a position to complain or make demands; I'm just lucky she happened to have some spare clothes with her. I promise I'll give them back to her once I'm home, which makes her laugh.

She packs her bag and carries me back to the waiting room. It's silly, as I'm no longer wearing the large gown and can perfectly well walk on my own, but I don't want to fuss. She's a nice lady and I ought to be thankful.

The vixen puts me down on the floor, and I look around. The room feels a lot larger than it was earlier, but it must just be my imagination. I notice there are a couple more adults and a couple fewer cubs waiting. Hopefully that means it will be my turn soon. I look up at the clock, but it's pretty high up and the numbers aren't that easy to make out.

I blink. Is that Gawin? I notice a tiger sitting on the floor, appearing occupied with some Bluey-themed toys, dressed in similarly childish looking clothes as myself.

I walk over. Seeing me he beams, getting up to give me a hug, his tail swishing. I blush, but I hug back.

He invites me to join him in playing with the toys. I frown. I'm much too old for toys, and I thought he was too. But he is younger than me, as I had noted earlier. Maybe he's younger than I thought.

It's silly, but I accept. I don't really have anything better to do. Indulging my friend might help the time pass sooner, too.

I join in, grabbing some of the figures, moving them about. It's awkward at first, but soon I start getting the hang of it.

I start noticing that his speech sounds more slurred, and his thumb frequently slips into his muzzle. I am tempted to suggest he get a pacifier, like one of the babies we've seen here, but I don't want to embarrass him. It's hard to know what he's saying at times, but combined with his body language he is fairly easy to read, so it's not too much of an issue.

Especially when he suddenly pauses, sitting on his knees, a faraway look in his eyes and his thumb in his muzzle. A light grunt escapes his muzzle as his seat bulges out, the muffled sounds of crackling plastic and escaping gas. Then the smell. You certainly don't need words to communicate that he was pooping himself, right there in the waiting room.

Gawin finishes, and seems to come to after his trance. His eyes grow wide, probably taking in what he had just done.

Quickly, I deploy my hidden talent: burping. It only takes a few burps, and Gawin seems cured of any shock or shame he might have been experiencing, giggling heartily.

Still giggling, Gawin plops down onto his butt with an audible squish, not seeming too bothered anymore. I'm happy I managed to help my friend. I didn't know he had bowel problems, but it's not too uncommon. Maybe that's why he's really at the doctor's.

A few minutes later, a tigress comes and lifts Gawin up into her arms, and a similar scene plays out before me as with the lioness and her cub. He gets his seat both felt and sniffed, gets praised and cuddled, and it's clear to everyone present that Gawin is a 'good boy' for having made such a 'big mess' for Mommy.

I blink. I didn't know Gawin was here with his mother. I guess it makes sense, given his condition. Maybe it's more serious than I thought. I hope he'll be okay!

My brooding thoughts are interrupted as the kind vixen comes over to me with a cup. It's colourful, and has a lid and a spout, and even handles. Apparently so it's easier to drink from while you're playing, or so she says.

I blush, realizing I'm on the floor, playing by myself, like some sort of cub. Which I'm not.

Seeing that I'm done playing, she suggests a book instead. I like books! There's nothing childish about books.

She lifts me into her lap, and I can freely drink from my cup while she reads for me, showing the pictures. The books I'm used to from university didn't have such nice, big pictures. She reads out loud, and I see a couple of the other guys in the waiting room rolling their eyes, but they don't comment.

I object that I can read by myself, but she shushes me down. But she does let me turn the pages, which seems like a reasonable compromise.

I sip from my cup. Apple juice! I even get a refill once it's empty. This is good service, I think to myself, listening to her read. She's doing some funny voices and silly sounds, which makes me giggle.

I notice I need to pee, but I want to find out how the story ends. Plus, this is a good opportunity to show the vixen I can hold it just fine. The incident with the gown was a one-off, and definitely not my fault. I bet she'll be impressed when I go use the potty, umh, the toilet once she's done reading. I picture the scene in my head, and how she will praise me. Then I'll tell her all about University and my new job and everything, and she'll be super duper impressed!

Tuning out for a bit as I daydream, the need to pee seems to dissipate, relief washing over me as my underwear grows warmer and heavier.

She finishes the book, and I'm about to set my plan in motion by telling her I need to go potty, but my plan is foiled as she pulls at the elastic waistline of my shorts to slip her paw down, feeling my underwear. Followed by leaning me forward, pulling out the back and peeking down.

She coos at me that I've gone pee-pee, and seems quite happy about the fact, and carries my off towards the bathroom yet again, bringing along her bag. Again I find myself on a soft, cushioned table, getting undressed and cleaned.

I'm incredulous and fussy at first, insisting that I haven't gone pee-pee, but I have no defense when she shows me my balled-up underwear, sagging heavily and smelling of pee. I blush and try to apologize, this stranger once again coming to my aid, but a raspberry to the tummy and a few tickles to my sides replaces my embarrassment with giggles and squirms.

She pulls out another pair of underwear. But it's a diaper, with a dinosaur print. Apparently it's all she has left, and I already soaked my previous underwear – which she calls 'pull-ups'. Besides, if I have another accident, these will help.

I want to object, but I've already inconvenienced her enough. I should really just be grateful. To make sure I button my yap, I slip my thumb into my muzzle. It feels surprisingly nice, helping me calm down. She lifts up my rear by lifting my ankles, slipping the diaper underneath me. Then she applies baby powder, rubbing it into my fur. That's the smell I noticed earlier in the waiting room! I grin from behind my thumb, proud to have successfully identified the source of the smell.

My attire changes once again as she dresses me in something she calls a 'onesie'. It has snaps along the bottom, helping to keep the diaper in place. It helps to hide it, too. That makes me feel a bit better.

She carries me back to the waiting room, sitting me in her lap once again. The nurse comes over carrying something, and before I can register what's going on, a nipple gets slipped into my muzzle. I whine and wiggle, trying to push it away. She coos and gently bounces me, reassuring me that it's yummy and good for me. Maybe it's medicine?

I don't want to start a scene after she's been so helpful. I start to nurse, and quickly develop a steady rhythm. It tastes like warm milk, but sweeter and thicker. Nursing feels calming, and my muzzle feels empty when she removes the bottle. Did I finish it already?

She lifts me to her shoulder to start patting my back. I grin, happy to show her I don't need to be burped, but when I try... nothing comes out. But it had worked just earlier with Gawin!

Frustrated, I whine and shift about some more, feeling her paw gently-but-firmly patting between my shoulder blades, her other paw supporting my bottom. After a series of pats, I finally burp. Relief washes over me, and the vixen seems pleased, even if I needed some assistance. She gives me a kiss and a cuddle before lifting me off her lap and setting me down by some toy blocks.

For some reason, playing by myself with the toys doesn't seem as unappealing now. Sitting down, I start exploring the colourful cubes, stacking them, knocking them down, gently banging them together. It's surprisingly entertaining! My muzzle feels empty, and one of the blocks ends up in my muzzle as I gum on it.

I quickly find the block replaced with a pacifier. I'm frustrated at first, but the pacifier feels undeniably soothing against my gums.

I look around the room. Everything seems bigger than it ought to be. But then, I am sitting on the floor. So it probably makes sense. The two other adults are still waiting, and there are some other kids and mommies in the room.

I look up at the big colourful clock on the wall. How long have I been here? It's hard making out the numbers, despite how large they are. I furrow my brow and try to focus, sucking on the pacifier. Maybe if I think hard enough. When the big hand is there, and the little hand is over there, and then later it will be over there, then that means... that means...

The mental exertion seems to have physically manifested in my tummy, an uncomfortable pressure building up, making it hard to focus. Frustrated by the distraction, I grunt and give a big push, hoping to push away the distraction so I can concentrate on the clock.

Relief once again washes over me, though of a different kind. A pleasant tingle goes up my spine as I feel a soft, warm substance quickly fill my diaper. It feels wonderful.

It takes a few seconds for the initial euphoria to wear off and realization to set in. I blush and give an experimental wiggle, feeling the poop ooze around my fuzzy, white-furred bottom. Maybe no one will notice. The mess seems to be safely contained by my diaper, and my diaper is mostly obscured by the onesie.

Better act like nothing's wrong. I go back to playing with the blocks as if nothing happened. The onesie not only helps to obscure the diaper, but helps reduce the droopage. What a clever invention!

I giggle as I plop down on my bottom with a squish. It's like I'm pulling off the perfect crime. Using my diaper in plain sight, and no one's the wiser. While it hadn't exactly been intended, I feel awfully clever for having soiled myself.

But my crime is eventually foiled. After some time playing, the vixen suddenly lifts me up, both feeling and smelling my butt. I had forgotten about the smell! She tickles my tummy and bounces me in her paws, cooing at me. It's hard making out all her words, but it's clear that she's pleased. Maybe she's happy with how I pulled off such a near-perfect crime! She pats my behind, and I giggle and squeal.

She walks towards one of the nurses. I get a glimpse of the waiting room. The adult men look over at me, and I wave back.

The nurse looks at me and coos. It seems it's finally my turn to see the doctor! Or, rather... our turn, I guess. She ruffles my headfur and asks me to be a good boy for Mommy.

My eyes go wide. Mommy! Of course! She's my mommy! It all makes sense now! That's why she's been so helpful.

I beam at the nurse, nodding and promising that I will. It's hard to talk while sucking on a pacifier, but it seems like she understand me.

Mommy wipes away the drool I hadn't noticed was dribbling down from my muzzle, and finally carries me to the Doctor's office.

THE END (… and a new beginning)

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