Ann
When you don’t
have much of a social life outside of school, you tend to look for
one elsewhere. Sometimes,
you find more than you expect.
I was always a computer nerd.
There’s not a very promising future for nerds in the grand
scheme of high-school – we tend not to be the beauty queens or the
star football players. Our
cliques are never overly massive.
Rather than Abercrombie, it’s khakis and glasses.
Rather than beer-and-weed parties, its LAN games with your
buddies. Besides, I’d
rather compensate my lack of a penis with a machine that can kick
the shit out of all these store-bought pieces of junk.
It’s much more fun than waking up in a puddle of your own
puke, laying next to a guy whose name you forget, with your ass
throbbing like crazy. Not
that I’ve done that – I’m just saying that my pastimes are
better than those idiot jock parties.
I made my computer, piece by piece.
All of my nerd friends are male, and I just love watching
them gawk when I talk about computers the way girls aren’t
expected to. I still
hold the deatchmatch record in Quake III, too, so they’ll
just keep on staring!
My name’s Anna, but you’re free to call me Ann.
All my friends do. I
like it better, anyway.
Even past being teased for how tiny I am, and how my glasses
are a little too big, I like high-school.
It’s pretty cool, given the fact that I’m one of the
smartest girls in the class. But
smarts don’t get you where tits do, these days – I’m just
about to start twelfth grade, and I still haven’t even had one
boyfriend. .. At least,
not one that I’ve seen.
I spend more time on the internet than anyone I know.
A cable modem tends to do that to you.
My schedule usually looks something like this;
Wake up at 6:30 in the morning, check my e-mail.
Scarf down some breakfast, tie up my hair, and throw on some
clothes for school while sitting in front of the computer.
By 8, I’m slumped in my first of seven periods, doodling
little drawings on my notepad only because I’ve known Algebra for
two years before any of my classmates.
It’s a required class – I had to take it.
When I get off the bus at around 3, it’s back on the
internet, where I fester in my chair until about midnight, at which
time I reluctantly crawl into my bed.
His name’s Bfolds545.
Or, his screen name, anyway.
He likes Ben Fold’s Five.
I met him in a music chat, and we just hit it right off.
To make a long story short, me and Casey (that’s his real
name) have been talking for about two years, and we get along great.
Always talk on the phone about this and that, and he’s a
lot of fun – only about four hours away from me, too!
We’re as boyfriend-and-girlfriend as internet couples can
get, but I wouldn’t admit that to anyone at school.
I’d turn into the laughing stock, I bet.
That’s just one of the two secrets I keep well hidden,
though. .. There’s
this other one, you see, that only my family really knows about.
And I came here to tell you my story, so here it goes…
“Ann, honey,” I heard my mom whisper.
I felt her hand gently shaking my shoulder.
I batted, unconsciously.
“Ann,” she reiterated, “You need to get up to go to the
bathroom.”
I rubbed at my eyes and lifted myself up in bed with a groan.
I slapped at my bedstand for my glasses, and managed to shove
them on my face. My mom
was retreating out the doorway, and she said behind her, “When
you’re done, come down and sit with me for a few minutes.”
Throwing the bedsheets aside, I stood up and stretched my
hands above my head. The
clock on my computer desk said 4:01 – the usual time my mom got me
up. She had to be to
work in an hour.
When I got to the bathroom, I flicked the light on, and
simultaneously squinted. When
I drew enough courage to do so, I skulked in front of the bathroom
mirror and looked down at my nightie.
Thankfully, it wasn’t wet, which meant my sheets wouldn’t
need changing. But my underpants were soaked, sagging warmly between
my thighs. I pulled
these down around my ankles and, hoisting my nightgown, sat down on
the toilet.
I didn’t pee much – most of it had already been let out
in my sleep, into the soggy diaper that lay used at my feet.
It was yellowed, bunched up from turning while I snoozed.
I plucked it off the floor, wrapped it, and placed it in the
waste can near the toilet.
I looked back in the mirror and frowned.
I was going on seventeen, and still bedwetting like the day I
was born. It happened
every night, and several times.
It wasn’t uncommon to wake up cold and wet in a soaked bed,
which had gotten so even through my night-time diaper.
I shook my head and held up my nightie with one hand while I
looked under the sink for a fresh panty.
After unfolding it, I taped the diaper onto myself and
wrinkled my nose, taking a glance at myself once before I let my
nightgown fall to my knees. The
diaper came up to nearly the middle of my back, stiff with a clean,
white pad that made my butt squarely bulge.
In the front, four plastic tapes held it secure to my belly.
If any of the girls at school knew I wet my bed?
Man, I’d hear it worse than if they knew I had an internet
boyfriend.
After I turned off the light and scampered down the stairs
towards the kitchen. I
rustled with every step. “Did
you wet?” Asked my mom. She
I nodded. “Uh
huh. ..But I didn’t
mess the bed up, so I just needed to change my panties.”
That’s the word I used if I didn’t feel comfortable
saying diaper. “I
have one left, so could you pick me up some on your way to work
tomorrow?” I sat down
in one of the chairs, rubbing at my eyes.
My underwear loudly announced my seating.
I’d gotten comfortable with it around my mom, though.
Hell, she’d changed me at night up until I was nine or ten,
so wearing a diaper around her wasn’t very embarassing.
She sat across from the table and passed me a cup of coffee.
It was steaming, and I leaned over it tiredly, cupping it
with both palms. I
liked the acrid smell. “Of
course,” she said, smiling softly and reaching over to pat my
hand. “Anything to
help.”
“Did Casey call last night, Mom?” I asked, resting my
cheek on a hand and flicking the side of the coffee mug.
“No, but I’m sure he was busy.
Did you have fun at your gaming get-together?”
“Yeah. I
kicked everyone around,” I stated proudly.
“They don’t think girls could play video games.”
My mom laughed. “I
was a Pac-Man fanatic, but that’s about all.
..What are you going to do today?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe
go shopping with Wendy. You
going to be home tonight?”
She looked down at the tabletop, which was stained with old,
brown rings from past cups. “I’m..
staying the night over at Philip’s house.
That doesn’t bother you, does it?”
Philip was her boyfriend.
..I’m not going to go much into it, but my dad and mom got
divorced when I was about six. He
was a drunkard, and she went through a lot of money to buy makeup
just to cover up the bruises he’d given her.
We hadn’t heard from him in years, thank goodness.
I grinned a bit, sipping at the coffee.
“Mom, I don’t care!
I like having the house to myself.
I can bring over all those boys you don’t want me to have
over.” I winked.
With that, I pushed myself up from the table and leaned over
it to kiss my mom on her cheek.
She was warm. “It’s
4 A.M., Mom. I have a
bed to go pee in. Gimme
a call tomorrow when you’re at Phil’s?”
“Sure thing, Ann.”
“Love you, Mom.” I
retraced my steps towards the stairs and, upon reaching them, I
turned to lean over the banister and clear my throat.
“Hey, Mom?” I asked.
She glanced up at me. I
always wished my hair was as blonde as hers, but I ended up getting
my dad’s ugly black hair. “Hm?”
I chewed on my lower lip.
“Did.. you ever wet your bed when you were this old?”
My mom shook her head. “No,
I didn’t. But you
have to remember, it doesn’t exactly run in the family.”
I reached a hand down to pull up the back of my diaper –
it’d shimmied down as I had walked.
“I guess you’re right.
Goodnight, Mom. Sleep
good.”
Upon reaching my room, I closed the door behind me and
crawled into bed. Even
under my blankets, the plastic on my night diaper loudly rustled.
I won’t lie – diapers are comfortable, at least when
they’re dry. I never
had the satisfaction of savoring that feeling too long, though.
I sighed. ..It
felt odd. Most other
girls my age got boys to sleep with.
Me? I had to
settle with a vinyl bedspread and a disposable adult diaper.
But I’d been falling asleep with that for the past ten
years, so it didn’t bother me much.
Never would, either.
It’s hard to remember exactly how you wake up, or
what you first do as soon as your eyes open.
Really, it is. I
came around with a start, eyes snapping open.
That’s a frequent occurrence on a Saturday morning –
flinch, stumble out of bed, get half-dressed, and then realize that
it might nearly be noon, but you’re not late for much of anything.
I pulled my hands out from under the covers and ground my
knuckles against my eyes, twisting my torso and stretching my toes
as far under the covers as possible.
Yawning uneventfully, I pushed the covers off of me and
sidled out of my bed.
The computer desk wasn’t far away, and I dropped down into
it with a grunt. I
fiddled the mouse around until the screen danced with static and the
display came up – I never shut my machine off.
While I waited for the monitor to liven up, I bounced a bit
in my chair, and my underpants rustled accordingly --
I always had to pee as soon as I woke up, and there were
other things that seemed more important, so no matter how much my
bladder ached, I held it off, even if my legs were crossed and my
foot was swinging.
I did, however, peel up the hem of my nightgown and take a
peek at where that plastic disappeared between my legs.
The diaper was warm, stained from urinating while I dreamed.
How disconcerting, to realize that while you were envisioning
the world’s sexiest man in your sleep, you were simultaneously
doing a most unattractive thing and unconsciously pissing on
yourself. But waking up
wet was never a surprise anymore.
I was used to it, and it didn’t upset me.
Obviously; it was nearly eleven in the morning, and I was
slouched in my computer chair, clicking about with the mouse, and I
still hadn’t changed out of my panties yet.
Sometimes, that was normal morning routine.
Leaning on my computer desk, I idly clicked about the
desktop, now and then pausing to jab out a few letters on the
keyboard. I eventually
made my way to my e-mail and scrolled my way through it.
Near the bottom,
after I was almost sick from being bombarded with foul, pornography
e-mail, I saw the only message that was important to me.
I opened it – I recognized by the address that it was from
Casey. Smiling, I
pushed my glasses up on my nose and started reading.
Hey,
Ann!
It’s
Casey. Guess you
already knew that, hehe. Just
wanted to e-mail you to say ‘Hi’, and I’m sorry for not being
able to call recently. You
know me. My job sucks,
and I still keep working these dumb hours!!!!
I
do have a bit of good news, though.
Are you ready for this?
I
talked to my Mom last night. She
and my dad have to go on a business trip, and I invited myself along
– after all, why wouldn’t I when the person I wanna meet the
most lives in a city twenty minutes away?
My parents told me they were heading out there, and I nearly
screamed.
I blinked.
Was he saying what I thought he was saying?
Curiously enough, I kept going.
I figured that I’d come along and
pay for my own hotel room, and we’d be in town for almost a week,
so I could finally get to see you in person!
I’m not sure what there is to do in your neck of the woods,
but it’s half-a-country away, so check with your Mom to see if she
doesn’t mind you and I meeting up.
Get back to me as soon as you can, hon, and I’ll pay for my
reservations if it’s a go! I
love ya, and I’ll talk to you soon!
-Casey
Feelings
hit me like a brick. If
it weren’t for the chair, my stomach probably would’ve been
oozing out onto my bedroom carpet right then.
He was coming! I’d
waited for a long time to find an excuse to meet Casey, and now, one
had fallen in our laps without even any planning!
I clapped my hands once and laughed, jumping up out of my
computer chair to bound around it a few times, giggling the entire
time.
When
I was done and out of breath, pure excitement was replaced by utter
fear. Just before I was
going to drop back down into my seat, I glanced down at it.
There
was a dark stain where I’d been sitting.
At first, I assumed my used diaper had simply leaked in the
change of position from laying to sitting.
But after patting the rear of my nightgown and registering
the tickling sensation of liquid on my inner thighs, I thought
otherwise. It clearly
explained why my bladder didn’t ache anymore, and why my panties
sagged between my legs.
Even
though it was because of complete surprise, the last time I’d wet
myself when I was awake was a few months back, when I’d laughed
too hard at a show I was watching at home.
I had daytime accidents now and then, but usually due to
stress, or just waiting too long to go – after all, bedwetting
usually comes from having a small bladder.
My night-pants were already damp from use during the night,
and apparently, couldn’t take just a bit more.
What was worse, I didn’t even realize I’d peed myself,
having been too enthralled in the letter.
I
ended up putting Lysol all over my chair, and after stripping out of
my soaked nightie and trashing that dirty diaper, I hopped in the
shower. I didn’t
think much about the water, but about other things.
What
would I do if I spent a night with Casey?
Most other girls would think about having sex, losing their
virginity, or even about being misued, but me?
I was terrified that, because of some fluke, the love of my
life might find out about my incontinence and my diaper-wearing, and
disown me right then and there.
I
tried to tell him so many times, but I never gathered the courage to
do it. Hell, I’d
never had the guts to tell my best friend about it, either.
After
my morning business, I picked out a modest outfit for the day, and
headed out to go pick Wendy up for a day of shopping and a girl’s
night of movies and gossip. It
didn’t seem as exciting as usual, though.
All
this time, I’d been able to hide my secret from Wendy – would it
go just as flawlessly with my boyfriend?
It
was a few minutes after eleven when me and Wendy finally settled in
my room for the night. After
washing my nightgown, no one would’ve known I’d had an accident
in it that same morning.
I
flopped down on my bed, from which I’d removed the viny sheet and
thrown it secretively in the hall closet earlier in the day.
The first movie – some dumb horror movie we’d picked up
on a whim at the local video store – was already in the VCR, and I
munched idly on popcorn, waiting for Wendy to get through with her
shower.
“This
movie’s gonna be so bad!” She laughed, popping in through my
bedroom door with a towel wrapped firmly around her head.
A pair of white, fluffed slippers kicked her around my bed to
lay on it next to me. Wendy
never had much of a care when it came to pajamas – scrub bottoms
and a sleeveless undershirt. There
were streaks down the side of her face where water dribbled out from
her hair.
“Tell
me about it,” I said, rolling my eyes and pushing the popcorn bowl
at her. “But you
still have to wait. I’m
going to go potty real quick, okay?
Don’t start the movie without me.”
She
stuck her tongue out at me as I pushed off the bed and disappeared
down the hallway. “Be
quick about it, girl!” Wendy called behind me.
She’d always been luckier, with a chimey voice and lots of
bubbling energy. “Don’t
take all night.”
I
clicked on the light in the bathroom and closed the door behind me.
I made sure to lock it, too, just to stay secretive enough.
With the bottom of my palm, I wiped away the condensation
from my mirror and crouched down to open the cabinet below the sink.
While
removing some various hairsprays, toothpaste tubes, and rolls of
toilet paper, I called out, “Man!
There’s enough water in the air in here to drown me!”
The
yelling was just to mask my removal of a bag from the back of the
cabinet. The GoodNites
were in a small package, so they were easy enough to hide.
I pulled two of the pants from the bag and hid it back
beneath all of the other stuff.
Even though my sleepwetting was really heavy, two pairs of
them often did the trick. They
weren’t loud, so they were good for sleeping over at someone elses
house, or if someone stayed at mine.
I just liked the extra security of honest-to-goodness diapers
when I didn’t need to hide them, though.
I
pulled the GoodNites on over one another and yanked them up around
my waist as tight as I could. I
dropped my nightgown back down and turned around to inspect myself
in the mirror over my shoulder.
They
didn’t bulge, as usual, and if I walked right, they didn’t make
any noise whatsoever. I
nodded in satisfaction. I
could probably hide it well enough to get through the week with
Casey, I assumed.
When
I got back into my bedroom, I jumped down onto my bed and shoved
Wendy aside with my shoulder. “Geez,
give me some more room while you’re at it!
Pass me over that popcorn.”
Lights
turned off except for the flickering T.V., we managed in scaring
ourselves more during the movie with little squeals and surprised
jumps than anything else. Our
fingers got greasy from the popcorn, and if there weren’t the
sounds of axe-murders going on, Wendy and I kept licking our fingers
and eating.
Finally,
during one scene, when some ominous shadow was creeping up on a girl
in a shower, Wendy rolled over on my bed and propped her head up on
a hand. “Ooooh,”
she groaned. “If I
eat anymore, I’m gonna burst!”
I
rolled my eyes. “Oh,
stop eating and watch, then! This
is your favorite part, with the conveniently naked woman rubbing her
boobs in the shower! ..”
“These
movies are only good if you’re a horny guy, or if you’re a
lesbian. I never see
any naked guys in them!” We
both laughed for a few minutes before she waned out of amusement and
traced an invisible pattern on the bed beside her, all with a
finger. “Hey, Ann,
can I ask you a stupid question?”
“Sure.”
“Well,
I’m on my period, so after my shower, I went through your cabinet
in the bathroom to find some pads.
.. I found them, but why on earth are there diapers in
there?”
I
nearly gagged on my popcorn. Somehow,
I found a way to turn my sudden struggle for breath into mimicry of
laughter, and I shrugged, stammering out the best excuse I could
find. “O.. Oh!
You mean those Goodnite things?”
“Yeah.”
“They’re
.. for.. my neice.”
“I
thought Tempest was potty trained, though.”
I
shrugged. “Sort of.
She’s only twelve, but when they come visit, my mom keeps
them in there. She goes
pee in her bed all the time, so they help her out.”
“Eeew.”
Wendy squinched her nose up. “Where
does she sleep?”
I
glanced down at my blankets, somewhat glad I had never revealed my
problem to my best friend. If
that’s how she reacted, I’d probably be spending the night by
myself. “Oh.
In my bed. I
sleep on the couch downstairs, so.. so in case she has a bad dream
or whatever, she’s closer to my mom’s room.
Remember when you came over a few years ago, and there was
that plastic sheet on my bed?”
Wendy
looked off elsewhere as though she were remembering.
“Oh. Oh yeah!
I never did ask you about that, but I thought about it.”
“Well,
they put that on there for the few days she stays here with us, so
she doesn’t ruin the mattress if she goes too much.”
I added, lying through my teeth.
Tempest could hold it all night long!
“But it’s not her fault, so when you see her next,
don’t tease her about it, okay, Wendy?
She gets that a lot from the school kids.”
My
best friend crunched down on a kernel.
I squinted. “No
problem, Ann. I
won’t. I’m stuck
up, but I’m not cruel! I
won’t say anything to her, but she can’t sleep in my bed ever,
that’s for sure!”
She
burst into giggles, and I did, too.
..It was sort of ironic.
Every time I spent the night at Wendy’s house, I’d worn
my GoodNites, and I’d always woken up with them wet – sometimes,
even, with a close call, where I’d leaked enough to wet a tiny bit
of my PJs, but not her bed. She
didn’t need to worry about my neice Tempest going in her sheets,
but little did she know her closest friend always did.
The
silence was starting to make me uncomfortable, and I jabbed the
remote towards the television and clicked the sound back on.
“Oh, guess what, Wendy?”
“What?”
“Guess
who’s coming to visit?”
She
scratched the side of her head.
“Uhm. Your
neice?”
I shook my head. “Nope.
Take another guess.”
Wendy rolled a piece of popcorn around on her tongue.
“Is it who I think it is?”
“Well, who do you think it is?”
She raised an eyebrow as she pushed up from the bed.
“What if I said Casey?”
I offered her a pillow as she began stretching out a sheet
and an old quilt along the floor.
She reached up to click off the television and eject the
movie – a good waste of a few bucks, we both later agreed.
I winked at her and began to laugh while I crawled up to the
top of my own bed and stuffed my legs under the covers.
“You’d probably be right,” I told her.
“That’s so cool!” Wendy smiled, flicking off the single
lamp we’d kept on. My
room was plunged into darkness, and now and then, I could see my
friend looking up to where my voice was coming from.
Pressing a cheek to my remaining pillow, I nodded.
“I can’t wait. He’s
getting a hotel room separate from his parents.”
“Ut oh!” She began to giggle hysterically.
“Ann’s gonna get laid!”
Wendy got a good, playful slap on the back of the head for
that one. “I am not!
.. What do you think I am, a slut?”
Dramatically, I paused.
“Okay, so I might, but who says I’m going to tell you?”
“No fun in that,” Grumbled Wendy, curling up beneath the
quilt I’d given her. “Just
slip me a hint or two now and then, okay?
.. We’ll all have to hang out and go to eat somewhere.”
“We should. I
always tell him about you.” I
discreetly slid a hand down underneath my blankets to tug up the
sides of the GoodNites. “
‘Night, Wendy.”
The only response I received was a muffled mumble – she’d
already fallen fast asleep. I
breathed out a sigh and turned my back to the wall, peering out
towards the clear, night sky through my window for some time before,
just like my best friend, I ended up dozing off.
I came around fast, but not because I’d gotten enough
sleep. On the contrary;
something was terribly wrong.
As soon as my eyes were open and I’d registered the
relieving feeling, I shoved a hand down to clamp the crotch of my
diaper.
Warm moisture greeted my touch.
..It was all I could do to grit my teeth and try to stop the
sudden deluge of urine. I
groaned a little, pressed the insides of my thighs together.
Wetting the bed was embarassing in itself, but awakening just
as you were toileting yourself was worse.
It’s a hard thing to stop peeing once you’ve started,
especially for someone with a tiny bladder, but twice as difficult
when you were just waking to realize it.
My gut felt like it was going to explode, and mid-stream, the
flow trickled off to just a warm drip.
I sat upright, still tightly holding myself.
The entire bed beneath me was nothing but a pool of piss.
I could see enough by the moonlight outside that, as I pushed
the sheets away, there was a puddle under my legs that had yet to
soak into the mattress. Freezing
cold, shivering, teeth-chattering, I soon discovered that my
blankets themselves were damp, as well as even the bottom of my
pillowcases. A blush
came to my face – I’d gone so much that the entire back of my
nightgown was dripping.
Horrified, squatting on my bed while trying my damndest to
keep what was still left in me – and it felt like a lot – I
reluctantly began to inch myself out of the lake I once called my
bed. ..It’d been
nearly a year since I’d wet this much, over the period of a few
hours of sleep. It
happened now and then, but why now, when my best friend was only a
few feet away?
The GoodNites had absorbed as much as they could.
Sniffling, silently choking back nervous tears, I waddled
towards the doorway and began to draw up my nightgown to bring with
me to the bathroom.
I looked over to see Wendy sigh in her sleep and
unconsciously turn over on her other side.
She wrapped an arm over her pillow and drew her legs a bit
closer, shaking her own head back into rest.
I bit my bottom lip hard enough to taste blood.
Don’t wake up, I pleaded, stripping off my nightgown
and balling it in my hands. Please
don’t wake up.
I ignored the quiet tears on my cheeks and felt my way
through the dark hallway, towards that familiar bathroom.
I got a glimpse of the wall-clock, saw that the shorter arm
was just a bit passed four. ..It
was the usual time my mom woke me up to pee and change, but she
wasn’t here, and I hadn’t taken a leak before sleeping, I
eventually recalled.
Squinting and swallowing, I tiptoed into the bathroom and
flicked the light on. I
paused after I placed my balled up nightie in the sink and began to
rinse it, to keep it from stinking up the hamper.
It was with the water running that I stared at my red face
and eyes. I just stood
there, observing myself.
My dark hair was a mess, and my belly glistened with wetness.
I momentarily forgot about my protesting bladder, noting how
disheveled I looked. The
two GoodNites had bulged to the limit of their holding, and the
dampness on my legs said that better than their soaked, yellowed
padding. Even my bra
was had gotten wet. I
whined – Dear God, I could imagine getting my chest and back messy
if I was a male bedwetter, but this was too much!
After washing my hands, I wiped off my cheeks and scuttled to
the toilet.
My GoodNites weren’t even off before I started peeing where
I’d left off. I slid
them down on my thighs while I sat and succeeded in getting their
back drenched, too. What
the hell was I going to do? … Such a wreck, sobbing in my hands
and emptying out my bladder at the same time.
I was damned lucky I had woken up when I did; I would’ve
drowned had I not caught it in time!
I must’ve kept going for nearly a minute, cursing myself
for drinking all of that soda just to get the salt of the popcorn
out of my mouth.
I heard a gasp. For
a minute, I thought it might have been me, but I knew it wasn’t.
I looked up from my hands, and in that terrible state, I
stared at the doorway. Wendy
stood there, nervously leaning on the doorjamb with her hands as
though she was peering right around it.
“A-.. Anny,” She said – she’d never called me that
before. “Are you..
alright?” Her face was bleach-white, but her eyes were like
saucers. I could tell
by the deathgrip she had on the door that she was either worried
sick, or just really confused.
“Are you okay, Ann?”
“I’m.. fine,” I whispered, resting my forehead down in
my hands. I heard
Wendy’s bare feet shuffle on the tiling of the bathroom as she
carefully made her way over to me.
She had to notice the used GoodNites just above my
knees. Who wouldn’t?
I tried not to choke on remaining tears, but I just sat on
the toilet and kept crying.
I
peeked at her between my shaking fingers.
“I’m s-sorry,” I squeaked, forcing the words off my
tongue, rather than some pointless excuse.
“I .. I w-w-w.. wet the bed.”
“..
I thought it was blood, or throw-up.
I got so scared when I woke up.
I heard someone moving in the hallway, and the room smelled
horrible. ..At least
that’s all it was, was pee. It
means we don’t hafta take that trip to the hospital I suddenly saw
in my head.” She
patted my elbow.
“Please
d-don’t tell anyone!” I bellowed, howling in upset emotion.
She
cringed, drawing back. “I
won’t tell anyone, Anny, don’t worry.
..Who would I tell?”
“Every..
everyone.”
“Why
would I do that? You’re
my best friend in the whole world.
Why would I make a big deal over something like this?”
“.. Bec-cause I lied to you.”
Wendy offered a piece of toilet paper to me.
I took it and wiped at my nose.
“T-Tempest doesn’t ever wet herself, Wendy.
.. I always do. All
the diapers? The
GoodNites? Even that
plastic sheet, they’re all for me.”
She
crossed her hands and set them in her lap, peering at me from where
she sat on the bathroom floor.
“Why didn’t you tell me that awhile back?
You don’t have to hide that from me.
.. I don’t care – does a wet bed make you any
different?” Her
knuckles were warm. She
gently punched my bare shoulder.
“No. You’re
still my computer-nerd best friend.”
“Do
you really mean that?”
Wendy
nodded, standing up to gently pat the same shoulder she’d hit.
“I do. And don’t
think twice about it. Now,”
she reached down to pull me up the wrists.
She wiped away my cheeks and pointed down towards the sad
excuse for underpants that dribbled between my knees.
“Throw those out, and get yourself a long, warm shower.
I’ll throw your nightgown and sheets in the washer and
scrub the bed down, and get it cleaned.”
Wendy turned me around by the shoulders and pushed me towards
the shower, which she promptly turned on while reaching around me.
I nearly fell. I
dropped my wet panties to the bathmat and shouldered into the
warming sprinkle of water.
Out
from one bath and into another, I
thought, leaning my head back to take in a face-full of the
comforting spray. Wendy
was still shuffling about in the bathroom, most likely cleaning up
after me. .. While I
stood, massaged by the steaming water, I smiled – I’d had a
better friend than I ever could’ve imagined.
“Hey,
Wendy?” I chimed over the rush of the shower.
“Yeah?”
“You..
never knew I wet the bed? Or
that I wore diapers to sleep in?”
“Nuh
uh. You did a good job
hiding it. Except for
one time…”
I
scrunched up my eyebrows. “When?”
“A
long time back. I think
we were like, eight. It
was the same weekend I stayed over and I noticed the plastic sheet
on your bed. You and me
had just gone out to see a movie with your mom, and when we came
back, we got in our P.J.s. I
was wearing a nightgown, and you had on a pajama top and bottom..
and they were thin enough I could your undies through them.
When you were walking, that’s why I kept giggling – you
rustled like a baby, and your butt was bulging, and I could see
these little car-and-truck designs on the back of the diaper,
through your pajama pants. Your
mom must’ve noticed my fascination, and said that the doctor had
you wear Pampers because you’d scraped your bottom and – get
this – it was more convenient than wearing a hundred band-aids!”
“Wow,”
I rolled my eyes, rubbing a foam of soap all over my arms.
I reached back to unfasten my bra.
I kicked it unceremoniously to a shameful corner of the tub.
“I didn’t know you were that gullible as a little kid.
That was a bad excuse!”
“Yeah,
but it worked! I never
thought twice. ..
I’ll go get you some fresh pajamas and put them on the sink-side
for you.” I heard
Wendy disappear off down the hallway.
My
heart was beating faster than it ever had before.
I stood a good twenty minutes in the shower, cleansing my
thoughts just as much as my body.
Nearly ten years of lies had been thrown in the wastebasket
along with my wet diapers. And
Wendy understood…
After
turning the shower off, I leaned out of the tub to feel about for a
towel. I dried my hair
as much as I could before wrapping myself and stepping clammy feet
out onto the freezing tile. Paying
no attention to the cold shivers in my spine, I hopped onto the
bathmat. I made a quick
job of throwing away my messy GoodNites, and hadn’t expected Wendy
to do it for me, either.
I
was pleasantly surprised when I looked towards the sink.
She’d put new pajamas there for me.
There were a pair of clean scrub-pants along with a simple,
white tanktop. Laying
on top , still folded, newly removed from the package I’d tried to
hide under the sink, there was a fresh diaper – the secure kind,
and not an accident-waiting-to-happen like the GoodNites.
After
slipping the tank on, I powdered myself and sat on the toilet-lid to
tape the diaper onto myself. How
comfortable it was, to finally wear a dry one!
I stood up and smiled, striking a pose and admiring myself in
the mirror – if diapers were sexy, I would’ve been quite the
catch! Every few
seconds, I’d catch a hint of my belly button between the tanktop
bottom and the diaper.
“I
should get my navel pierced one of these days,” I chattered down
the hallway, slipping the scrub-pants on over the diaper.
I gritted my teeth – my backside was clearly diapered with
these bottoms on, but Wendy put the panty out for me, and knew I was
too smart not to make the same mistake twice.
So, rustling like I had around her like the day we were both
eight, I nervously bounded into my bedroom.
It
still smelled vaguely of pee, but the mattress had been flipped,
blankets replaced, and pillowcases changed.
Wendy was laying across it, flipping through television
channels. She smiled up
at me as a kind greeting.
I
flopped down on the bed beside her.
Not only did my diaper crumple beneath me, but the bedsheets
rustled. I looked at
her.
“I
found your mattress cover in the closet.
I put it on, just so you don’t have anything more to be
embarassed about.” She
rolled over and pulled a cleaned pillow to place under her head.
“Don’t be afraid I’m going to say something, Ann.
The bedwetting’s not your fault.”
She propped her chin in her hand.
“You remember when we were ten or eleven, we pinky-promised
to help each other through problems, and we pretended to be
sisters?”
“Yeah,”
I frowned. I had been a
mess at the time. Even
though my parents had split up when I was six, I was really
understanding it and feeling it then.
“You know, I was such a wreck over that whole divorce
thing, my mom had me in a diaper at daytime, too.”
“Well,
I’m still keeping that promise now,” Wendy continued, shaking my
pinky with her own before pushing down the top of her sweatpants.
Sleepily,
I stared at the plastic front of one of my own diapers, but on her.
The blue-ended tapes had been sloppily stuck to the
waistband, but I assumed she had done an alright job – Wendy
changed baby diapers every time she babysat, after all.
Given the surprise information, I looked up.
Her bottom was just as flat as mine.
Wendy
snapped her pajama pants back.
“You’re still my pinky-sister, and if you have to deal
with something, I’m going to deal with it right alongside you.
I don’t care if I need to tell my mom and your mom that
I’ve started bedwetting, but I’ll wear diapers to sleep if you
need to. Besides,”
she added, bursting into giggles.
“They’re sort of comfy!
If you ever had to wear them during the day again, I
wouldn’t protest doing it with you!”
The
two of us slept in my bed that night.
It was a lot like when we were littler girls, giggling and
whispering secrets to one another under blankets.
We stayed up nearly until six, lights off, sharing stories.
I was flattered that Wendy was so curious about my diapering.
At
one point in our little exchage, she paused.
She squirmed and rested on her back and issued a few stressed
grunts. I snorted with
laughter. “What’re
you doing? Do I
really want to know?”
“P-..Peeing,”
she sputtered, gasping for a breath and staring at me.
“I.. didn’t know it’d be so hard.. laying.. down.”
I
shrugged. “Easiest
thing in the world, for me. I
don’t even have to wake up.”
My nose crinkled – the discreet aroma of brine filled the
air, and Wendy’s tight breath eased a bit.
A hissing noise whispered between her legs and under the
blankets. I was
familiar with that sound enough – the diaper was doing its
intended job and wicking away the stream of moisture while she
urinated.
“If
you’re going to be wet in the mornings, then I’ll be, too.”
She squirmed and turned to the side a bit so she could touch
the back of her sweatpants. “For
a minute, I thought I’d leaked already.”
I
curled, resisting the urge to be lazy and unfreshen my own clean
underpants. “You’d
know if you did. You’d
be twice as uncomfortable.”
“But
this isn’t so bad. ..Hey,
since we’re sharing secrets, do you want to know one?”
She stopped, eyes getting thoughtful.
“This isn’t the first time I’ve gone to the bathroom in
my pants. Know how I
was on the cheerleading team last year, for J.V.?”
“Yeah.”
“Ugh!”
She cringed. “I had
to skip practice one time, because I had the school breakfast, and
it didn’t do wonders for me.
I had to shit so bad!
Last period of the day, I excused myself out of History, but
I didn’t exactly make it to the bathroom in time…” She raised
an eyebrow, letting the rest of the story work itself out in my
head.
“Eeew!”
I said, trying my best to sound like what she’d said earlier.
We both shook with laughter.
“That’s so gross! But
at least you were awake when it happened!
I’ve done it a few times in my sleep, but that’s even worse
to wake up to than just a wet diaper!”
Wendy
nodded. “Do you think
my mom will believe me if I tell her I started to wet the bed?”
“Well,
do it a few times and act concerned, and cry about it, and change
your bed. After awhile,
I’m sure she’ll agree that it’s in your best interest to wear
a diaper at night. ..
But, are you sure you feel like doing that?
I really don’t mind if you don’t want to do that.”
“No,
no no,” Wendy smiled, turning her back to me in the bed and
yawning. I could see
the elastic back of the diaper folded down over the waist of her
sweats. “We’re one
in the same. I’m not
going to sleep dry if you can’t.
I’ll be a bedwetter, too, even if it’s on purpose.”
That
made me smile – the one person I was so nervous to tell about my
problem, and she understood completely!
She sympathized even more than my own mother, who had never
seen it as my fault, and had always been fully supportive.
As disgusting as the whole concept of peeing in my sleep was,
it warmed my heart to know that Wendy didn’t hold it against me.
I
fell asleep with a smile on my face.
I knew I’d wake up having bedwet, but I didn’t care.
(unfinished)
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