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alyssa

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alyssa last won the day on November 25 2014

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  • Diapers
    Bedwetter
  • I Am a...
    Girl
  • Age Play Age
    3-7

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  • Gender
    Female
  • Location
    California
  • Real Age
    24

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alyssa's Achievements

Infant

Infant (2/7)

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  1. clean diaper (ha ha), diaper tee, and then either sleep pants, knit shorts, or sometimes no bottoms.
  2. OMG. you’re too much. this story is fabulous and you deserve all the credit. Pink has the whole idea, plot, and development of characters. she is just being modest. i can’t wait for chapter nine. no pressure though… big hugs for a great chapter!
  3. It usually takes several treatments and is not comfortable to say the least. Also, remember this is basically PERMINANT. It's not likely it will grow back.
  4. I was trying to push everything to the back of my mind. The only spare change of clothes I had was my gym uniform. I had to wear those polyester blue shorts over this now bulky disposable diaper. It was huge on me. Not to mention the top sticking out. I stayed at home for several days. I wore a pull up most all the time now, and wetting pretty regularly at night. My top dresser drawer was now filled with pull-ups. When I went back to school the next week, I could only dream of wearing the Wall-Mart panties. Essentially, “I was a big kid now”; full time. I had to change my outfits a bit to mask the potty training panties. No more low cut jeans, and always be careful when you bend over. I was visiting the nurse on a regular schedule. I was excused from PE for a week or two, but dreading the day when I needed to rejoin the class. How was I expected to change in the locker room? No way was I going to do that. A few days prior to starting PE again I was having nightmares at night. The pull up was not doing the trick. I was leaking all over my bed sheets. My mom knew I was upset, but still couldn’t resist bringing the topic up about “maybe you need a bit more extra protection at night Alyssa?” That didn’t go over well. I refused of course, like any normal girl at my age. So, back in school, it’s my first day back to gym class. I’ve already had one change today, but it’s not the last. I flood myself just after lunch. The half-moon wet spots are way apparent on the back of my legs. I bolt into the nurse’s office. I’m not the only one in there! I’m not use to this. Ms. Pitiless knows what happened, and she tells me she will be right with me, and to have a seat. Stand, sit, stand, what do I do? She tells me to quit fussing while she patches up the other student who has a bloody nose. “Alyssa, every time you come in here in wet pants, I can’t just drop everything for you!” I’m mortified. Eventually, I get my own stall. My pants come down, the pull up is torn from the sides, and she cleans me up once more. You guessed it, no more chances with the pull up. Diaper time for Alyssa. As I’m in the cot, I know that this situation is a problem, but I still don’t want to be in diapers. These things are super thick! It’s not like wearing a pad, its padding all around! They rise over my hips and the plastic backing slaps against my stomach. Any movement causes them to crinkle, and the bulk in the center gathers up if I’m not laying flat or standing straight up. My pants are wet, so now all I have is my gym outfit in my bag. I don’t have much choice, and have to pull my shorts up over the diaper. It’s snug. My shorts won’t hide what I’m wearing underneath. The top of the diaper peeks out above my waist band, and the thickness of the “protective garment” is obvious at my legs because you can see the diaper preventing my shorts from touching my body. It looks like a thick layer of vanilla ice-cream from an ice-cream sandwich between my legs and shorts. I’m not crying at this point, just in shock. My mom once again picks me up from school. She hauls me off to Walgreens, where I wait in the car. She exits the store with a bag of Attends swinging from her hand. It’s so surreal; I’m thinking those are for me? The next day we are back at the doctor. I haven’t been out of diapers since I left school. At least I now have sweats on over my new panties. However, when I looked in the mirror, I could see the diaper “square” on my bottom under my sweats. As winter break is about to start, I didn’t return to school. My friends found out I was “having trouble staying dry”. The reality of the situation was that I was in either diapers or pull ups all the time. Generally speaking, it was diapers now more than not, and the first bag of Attends from Walgreen’s had been replaced by several others. When school did start up again after break, I returned. I had started to get use to my situation but still couldn’t face my friends. Unbeknownst to me, I was going to start attending the “special class”. Over the last twelve weeks, I had progressed from the fast crowd to the special crowd. My friends had disappeared, or say changed. Speaking of changed, I was receiving plenty of them in school now. My “homeroom” has an adjoining bathroom, where we could take care of my problem. Unfortunately, gym class was still an issue. Three times a week, I would still have to go to PE, although it was no longer with the regular kids. Funny enough, it didn’t seem as bad anymore, even though I was in a diaper. The only time I would get upset is if I saw my old friends. I could tell they would snicker and say things about me if I passed them in the hall. Ms. Pitiless was so sweet to me now. I would see her from time to time, and she would always ask how I was doing. Other than a wet diaper, I guess everything was fine. Life moved forward, and so did I, but I think I grew up a bit, even though my appearance may not show for it. Still in diapers today…. Alyssa
  5. Hello… the only problem here is that I’m not going from diapers to pull ups to big girl panties. I’m stuck in pull-up land and shouldn’t have to worry about toilet training exercises. So yeah, pull-ups become a part of my bed time routine. Yippee, just what I want, NOT! Hanging out with my friends started to become more difficult. I know they were wondering “why did Alyssa change clothes at school in the middle of the day?” Things just were not quite the same. Later, we were walking down the hall and past a kid who was in the “special education” class. He was staring right at us as we walked past him and twirled our sassy attitude. He wasn’t watching where he was going, and ran into the wall, and dropped all his books and papers. Julie busted out laughing and was like “dork!” It was funny, moments later I felt my bottom get warm. I was peeing. I start thinking, o’God, at least I have a pull up on. Not good enough, I froze. It started to leak at the back and down my legs. When I stopped walking and stood still, the girls knew something wasn’t right. “What’s wrong Alyssa?” Then they looked at me and saw the growing wet spot on my corduroys. “Are you wetting yourself?” they almost said in unison. I didn’t answer, I just turned and headed for the nurses office again. They followed me, and I think they were concerned, but also in disbelief. Ms. Pitiless told them it must be a bug, and sometimes this happens. I probably needed to sleep it off and get some medication. They swore they would tell no-one, but somehow I quickly became known as the one in the brat pack that went pee-pee on herself. If they only knew I was wearing a pull-up at the time. In her office, I was a wreck. I was trembling, hick-upping, and crying all at the same time. The nurse helped me get my pants undone, and tore the pull up off from the sides. She told me to lie down, and she would clean things up. I did as I was told, just re-living the memory of the hallway with my friends over and over. She took a warm cloth and wiped my bottom and front. Again returning from the grey cabinet she ripped open another package. She told me to lift my hips. Before I even knew what was going on, she was pulling the plastic backed material between my legs and reaching over to tape the sides. Did I just say tape the sides? Reality hit. I’m lying on my back, and I’m being diapered? This can’t be. I’m one of the popular kids, this doesn’t happen to us. My mom was called. I could hear the nurse explain the “incident” and say that I was in a pull up when it happened, but due to the volume of the accident, she thought it was best to have me wear a diaper for the time being. I was told my mom was coming to pick me up ASAP.
  6. I eventually made it out of the bathroom and to a cot. I proceeded to pull the blanket up quite quickly. I reached down with my left hand and could feel the foreign fabric between my legs. I begged to have them call my mom to pick me up from school, which finally happened. Yet, before she arrived, my friends came down to check on me, as they had no idea what occurred. Ms. Pitiless was cool. She simply said, I must have reacted to something I ate, and I was going to go home. I totally didn’t want them to know. How embarrassing. Julie goes, “at least you don’t have to go to PE now.” The nurse just looked over at me and smiled. My mom finally arrived with some sweats. My jeans and panties were put in a plastic bag of which I had to carry. I left school quickly, and ashamed, wearing a pull-up under my baggy clothes. My mom started to ask me about the “other times” this had happened in school. Apparently, Ms. Pitiless spilled the beans and told her. Of course, she scheduled a doctor’s appointment. I went to the normal doctor, the special doctor, and even an urologist. Of course, nothing was found. They all asked me about the stressful life of a teenager, and said I should take it easy, have some fun. Over the next few weeks, I actually had a night time accident or two. Ok, I can say it. I wet my bed. I don’t know what’s happening. My mom is supportive, but she was growing tired of wet sheet, and the housekeeper didn’t like it much either. Soon I ended up with a plastic sheet on my bed. I was moody at school. I wanted to skip gym more than ever with this going on. The last place I wanted to be was in the showers with a bunch of other girls who were more developed than I, and me knowing that I was wetting my bed at night. I started to feel like the younger sister around her older sisters’ friends. My lack of physical development wasn’t helping the situation either as I was already self conscious. It was Tuesday. I couldn’t bear to go to PE class. I made up another fib for the instructor, and wham, right there I started wetting myself again. It’s the middle of the day, no good reason whatsoever, and I’m peeing like a two year old. I bolt. Ms. Pitiless knows immediately what happened. By now she is seeing way too much of me. I have started to carry and extra change of clothes in my backpack. I’m handed the same package from the grey cabinet. I dread putting on pull-ups. It’s happening way too often. I can’t get that stupid commercial phrase out of my head. “I’m a big girl now!” I no longer get to take off and go home. My mom can’t interrupt her day to pick me up. So it’s a clean pull-up, and a change from jeans to a skirt then back to class. Unbeknownst to me, the nurse and my mom have been talking about my “condition”. A recommendation was made that I should maybe start wearing pull-ups to bed at night, just incase. After all, pull-ups are fairly thin and designed to help you recognize toilet training skills. Maybe this would help.
  7. I will try to post a page ever few days or so... this is page two. A few days pass, and I’m in class with my friends goofing off. Talking about boys, going out, shopping, and other girl stuff. I was having fun. All of a sudden I realized I needed to use the bathroom. The urge was strong. I raised my hand, was excused, and practically ran down the hall. Thank god, I made it for most of it… Yeah, most of it… I got a bit wet on my skirt and undies. Where did I go? Back to Ms. Pitiless and her office. As embarrassing as it was, she really didn’t say much. I was able to get cleaned up in her private bathroom, and she gave me a package from her tall gray cabinet. I tore open the plastic, and they were cotton briefs. Not the bikini type I would normally wear, but the full cut version. My friends would totally make fun of me if they only knew. They were white, and cheep, probably from some place like Wal-Mart. I don’t shop at places like that. You wouldn’t catch me there for anything. Yeah, my friends and I are kinda spoiled, but why subject yourself to that if you can have something else right? You could say I ran with the “fast crowd” in school. My boyfriends were always older. I was never a study geek. I always had lots of friends and things to do, and places to go. Anyway, over the next couple weeks, it happened again and again. Anytime I was having fun, or someone made me laugh, I couldn’t help myself, I started to pee. Wal-Mart panties were becoming more and more prevalent in my life along with the trips to Ms. Pitiless’ office. One day at lunch, I was sitting with my three best friends. We were flirting across with the boys. I guess one of them thought it would be funny to trip a dork walking with his lunch tray in the isle. The band geek fell flat on his face and his lunch went flying. Everyone roared with laughter, including me. That’s the first time I didn’t make it to the bathroom. I got up and bolted. I was in tears. My pants were wet all the way down the inside. I flew into the nurses office crying. Luckily, I was the only one in the room. Ms. Pitiless recognized the problem right away, and comforted me by placing her arm over my shoulder. I was a wreck, she ushered me to her bathroom again, and told me to get out of those “wet things.” She handed me another package from the tall gray cabinet to change into. When I tore it open, it wasn’t the same as the times before. It was like a pull-up! Was she kidding? What was she thinking? It had a thicker center panel, and mesh sides that tore away. I was furious! I opened the door and stuck my head out making smart mouth comments. I was quickly shot down. “Alyssa, I don’t have anything else, you have used up all the others.” I didn’t know what to do. I sat in the bathroom forever. Finally, giving in, I slipped one foot, then the next into the leg holes and pulled them up. These were for sure pull-ups. The elastic band was high on my tummy, and there were gathers around my legs.
  8. Author note: I have incorporated parts of my life into my short stories however; the majority of the text is fiction. I have found that “writing” has become a positive way for me to express myself, and from time to time I may share it in this forum. I will not answer or reply to personal questions about my situation. I do however appreciate your ideas, story related questions, and encouragement. “Skipping Gym” Every high school girl dreads gym class. I would do just about anything to get out of ‘physical education”. My name is Alyssa, and this short story is about my freshman year of high school. Do you remember what it was like to have “gym class” smack in the middle of your day at school? It is such a nuisance. Having to dress for gym, get sweaty, and listen to the has-been coach tell you to do jumping jacks, in the polyester uniform shorts. Then the showers at the end… UGH! Early on my friends and I figured out how to “skip” class. It was easy really. I would just make up a fib that my tummy hurt, or I had a headache, or best of all, cramps. Then I would get sent to the nurse’s office to rest. It was simple, and I started to take advantage of the situation. Well, half way through the year, the nurse, let’s call her Ms. Pitiless, caught on to my game. At first she would shower me with sympathies, but when you try and make three trips to the nurse in the same month for menstrual cramps, they know you’re lying. Normally, I would just go in and rest on one of the cots, and miraculously “feel better” 30 minutes later. Sometimes I would change into my gym uniform, or other times, I would just be wearing my street clothes. Needless to say, it worked. One day after Ms. Pitiless was tired of listening to my tall tales, she walked over and sat next to my bedside. I remember it clearly. I sat up, put my feet on the floor, and was gathering my stuff to leave for the next period. She stopped me. She said “child, if you are going to continue to play games with me like this, and demoralize my time and profession, I intend to do the same with you.” I started to speak, and she held her pointer finger to my lips. “If you continue to play baby games with me, you are going to find yourself out matched.” I blew her off; whatever, and stood up. She said “I’m serious Alyssa.” The next week, I was back again, who knows what the excuse. This time Ms. Pitiless gave me a “drink” to relax me, and said “Alyssa, I want you to pay close attention to what I’m going to say.” I don’t really remember what she was talking about, but I think she was using relaxation techniques to cleanse my mind. This was the beginning of the end.
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