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  1. Diaper Journal Bullet Journal

    One of the new popular trends I've seen roaming around is the trend of keeping what's know as a Bullet Journal. A Bullet Journal is basically a notebook transformed into whatever you want it to be. It's designed around using shapes and bullet points for everything. Calendar pages, note pages, journals, etc. I personally have a few, one for budget tracking, and one for work purposes, but I digress. Recently with all the posts rolling around about New Year's Resolutions, I decided to stick with something I've been planning on doing for a long time: Wear diapers 24/7 (but not become dependent). So I started to make a small journal with tracking my wet/dry/messy days, as well as if I make a full 12 or 24 hours of diaper wearing, and some other notes and observations. The Calendar page doesn't look as good as I hoped, so I thought I'd share one of the journal pages. Would you start something like this? Do you think it would keep your diaper wants/needs on track, or anything at all on track? Remember, the idea is that you can plan anything essentially on sheets of notebook paper.
  2. Life and Death Choices Made Casually The bell rang and Angela stood up gingerly to leave the classroom. She clenched her butt cheeks together and walked as quickly as she could toward the bathroom. She passed by the rows of lockers and didn’t even stop by for her books. Her stomach rumbled and she winced in pain as the cramp hit her. She squeezed her cheeks with all her might, but she knew she would make it to the girl’s bathroom. She had to. She was eighteen and a senior in high school. There was no way she could live down an accident. The cramp subsided and she continued her journey to the porcelain relief. It was just down the hall. She hurried as fast as she could, but she couldn’t run or even walk normally or she would poop--in her panties. Still, she persisted until she made it to the bathroom. The girl’s room was a mess at 1:30 in the afternoon. There were paper towels on the floor, lipstick on the mirrors, and she was sure she would find pee on the seats, but it didn’t matter. She was desperate. She groaned in disgust. All of the stalls were full. She stood in front of the row of stalls waiting. “Please hurry. I’m desperate.” Her voice sounded soft and alien to her. “Hold on a bit,” a girl called from one of the stalls. A girl flushed and exited a stall and Angela stepped toward it. Before she took a second step, she felt another cramp in her abdomen and she bent over slightly. That was all it took to make it the worst day of her life. The load she had been holding in Mrs. Miller’s class squeezed out in her panties. It was sudden, her accident. It wasn’t slow; it just came out and there was a lot of it. Her load was wet too, but solid enough that it met the resistance of her jeans and spread in the seat of her panties. She looked around and saw at least ten girls who were staring at her. One of them had her mouth open in surprise, but soon they would all know and then the whole school would make fun of her. She felt a blob of poop escape the leg bands of her panties and ride its slimy journey down the inside of her blue jeans to the floor. “She pooped her pants,” a girl said. “Hey everyone,” one of the girls yelled into the hallway. “Angela pooped her pants.” Angela wanted to say something. They had to be wrong. This couldn’t be happening. But it was. She heard a pattering noise and looked down. To add insult to injury she was peeing her pants as well. She could only stare as the wet patch on the front of her jeans grew. “I wish I could die,” she said. ### Bridget Addison cowered in fear in the passenger seat of her big rig. Eighteen wheels of power moved uncontrollably down the street. She was supposed to be the driver. She had the commercial driver’s license to prove it. She also had the hazardous materials and explosives endorsements that allowed her to haul the 9000 gallons of gasoline in the tank trailer behind her rig. It was supposed to be an easy job. She didn’t even have to leave the city. She just drove around from gas station to gas station refilling their stock. At five o’clock she would return to the oil depot and drive home in her own car. Today was different. As soon as she left the oil depot, she headed toward her first stop. It wasn’t in the best of neighborhoods, but she had always felt safe. She had grown up here. In fact, the truck driving school where she got her license was in the same neighborhood. She was the only pretty thirty-two-year-old in the whole class. When she arrived at the first street light she had to stop. The armed gunman opened the driver’s side door and pushed her aside as he mounted the cab of her eighteen wheeler. “Sit quietly or you’re dead,” he said. He took the wheel and begin to drive east away from the city. It wasn’t worth dying over someone stealing gas. Bridget sat still in the passenger seat. Still the calculations came to her head. That was her talent. Gas was $2.53 a gallon for regular. With her combined load of super and medium grades as well, the fuel was worth $23,470. She made a little more than that in a year, but not much. It was still not worth her life. She pulled her knees up to her chin and stared at the gunman. The man drove in silence. Every so often he pointed the gun in her direction, but he still had to shift. Bridget needed both hands to drive. At lights and on straight roads she could reach for the radio or even take a cell phone call, but she generally kept one hand on the steering wheel and another on the shifter just in case. The highjacker had to shift and hold her at gun point as well as steer. She cringed with each metal on metal crunch as the rig clipped other cars. “Slow down,” she yelled. “You’ll get us both killed.” Sirens sounded in the distance and she knew it wouldn’t be too long until the police caught them and she would be safe, unless… The man pointed the gun at her again. “Shut up or you’ll get it,” he yelled. …unless he planned to hold her as a hostage. She shivered. She just wanted to get home to her apartment and forget about today. The gunman turned a right and Bridget saw the trailer take out a fire hydrant as the rear of the trailer hopped the curb. Bridget felt the whole rig shake and she worried that her cargo might ignite. A full load would sure be hazardous. He turned left again, but it was less violent. “Why’d you turn here?” she asked. “This road only goes to the school.” The gunman turned off into the grass and drove toward the Arthur Miller Elementary School building. She realized what he was doing and knew she had to do something. She waited until he had to shift gears and then dove for the steering wheel. Riding her momentum, she turned the wheel to the left, hoping to turn the truck away from the school. The truck careened and jackknifed around and she was thrown free out the window of the semi. She lay on the ground stunned, the wind knocked out of her. If she could have taken a breath, she would have breathed a sigh of relief as she watched as the tanker missed the elementary school. Her relief was short lived as the tanker plowed into the building next to it: the middle school. She watched in horror as the gasoline exploded on impact. The screams of the students mixed with her own as she woke up in her sweaty jumpsuit. “Will you knock it off?” yelled the inmate in the cell next to hers. She looked at her surroundings. Bars, a steel toilet, the narrow cot in which she slept, and more bars. She had awakened to the same nightmare every day since the terrorist attack. “Today is the last day I wake up screaming,” she promised. The next time she went to sleep, she would never wake again. The terrorist who had tried to ram her truck into the elementary school was consumed in the explosion. The terrorist group had also claimed responsibility for the attack. No one had believed her that the gunman existed and today she would die because she couldn’t prove that he was the real killer. “If only I would have turned the wheel to the right,” she whispered. She knew if she did that, the elementary school would have been hit. She had twelve years to relive the attack over and over again. Every day she had second guessed herself as she sat in a prison cell. At least today she would be able to eat what she wanted. She knew a New York strip steak, a slice of apple pie with ice cream would be on its way to her today. She debated with herself on the ice cream. She didn’t dare eat dairy products because lactose intolerance would give her digestion problems, but she figured she may as well enjoy the ice cream because she wouldn’t be around long enough to need to worry about the after effects. She went to the sink in her cell and splash water on her face and returned to her cot to wait for her fate. ### The priest hadn’t been helpful. The food, on the other hand, was divine. She walked slowly down the hallway toward the waiting gurney. “Will you want the needle in your right arm or left,” an orderly dressed in white asked her. “Does it matter?” she asked. She hopped up on the gurney. This is really how things are going to end, she thought. The orderlies strapped her down to the gurney. A strap across her knees and chest and wrist and leg cuffs made any desire to fight impossible. She could have fought. She almost wished she did as they rolled her into the execution chamber, past the witnesses. The witnesses were some of the parents of the middle school children. Most had to watch the execution on a video monitor outside the prison since the number of witnesses were limited to twelve. Their eyes stared cold daggers into her as she lay helpless as the execution took an alcohol-soaked cotton swab and cleaned her arm. “Is that to prevent infection?” she asked. She smiled a bit, but no one else seemed to think it was funny. Gallows humor couldn’t hurt, could it? “Do you wish to make a statement?” the executioner asked. “I tried to stop him,” she began. “If only I’d turned the wheel to the left. No that wouldn’t have worked. Or if I fought him before he was going to hit a school…” She stopped talking when she realized she was only babbling. The executioner took the needle inserted it in her arm. At the same instant Angela Murphy said, “I wish I could die,” Bridget Addison said, “I wish I could live.” Both of them got their wish. ### Bridget almost stumbled. First she was lying horizontally and then she was standing. She looked around. She was in the middle of a bathroom surrounded by high school kids. Was this hell? It had to be and the students must have been what the children her truck had killed would have looked like when they got older. No, the math wasn’t right. Those students would be in their mid thirties now. “Angela pooped her pants. Angela pooped her pants,” the students chanted. Bridget’s legs felt warm and wet. She looked down. She had peed herself. She smelled a foul odor, felt a glob of poop rolling down her leg. She had pooped her pants. If she had pooped her pants, who was this Angela girl that did the same? A blonde girl walked into the bathroom. She looked at Bridget and her eyes traveled downward toward her crotch. She pushed through the crowd and took Bridget’s hand. “Stop making fun of her. You should be ashamed. Go to class.” She pulled Bridget out into the hall. The blonde girl was pretty, but just a tad chunky. A size eight or ten, Bridget thought. No, this is high school: a size seven or nine. She wore jeans and a long sleeved shirt. On top of the shirt she wore a t-shirt that said, “I heart dorks.” She wore the yuckiest brown glasses Bridget had ever seen. They had big eighties lenses like Bridget had worn in junior high. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s get you to the nurse’s office.” She pulled Bridget by the hand. She was in still shocked by what happened. One minute she was about to be executed and another minute she was standing in the middle of a high school having disgraced herself. Bridget felt the school nurse’s eyes glare at her. “You’re eighteen?” she asked. “Miss Grosstree wouldn’t let her go to the bathroom,” the blonde said. “She is very strict,” the nurse agreed. “We’ll have to call your mother to pick you up.” She turned toward her desk and picked up the phone. “What is your mom’s number?” the nurse asked. “Umm,” Bridget said. “It’s 555-8273,” the blonde said. The nurse dialed. “Angela, I got to get to class,” the blonde said. “I’ll call you tonight.” She turned and walked away. The nurse was already on the phone when Bridget looked away from the blonde. “Mrs. Murphy. You daughter had an accident. You need to come to school right away. No, she’s okay. She just soiled herself. I know she’s eighteen. No, it is not usual at that age. Just come and pick her up.” Bridget was confused. She wondered who Angela and Mrs. Murphy were. She had a sneaking suspicion, but she dared not speculate. She stood inside the nurse’s office flushed and embarrassed. She refused to think about how she had gone from the death chamber to a high school. ### Twenty minutes later a woman arrived. She looked to be in her early fifties. From the look on her face, Bridget thought she looked very angry. She walked straight toward Bridget. “Young lady, what do you have to say for yourself? How old are you? Bridget blushed. “Umm, I…” She wasn’t about to tell this woman she was a death row inmate. She hoped the age question was rhetorical. She was thirty when the attack happened and she spent the last twelve years on death row, but she wasn’t going to tell her age in front of this stranger. “I’m too old to be having accidents,” she said. She had to walk the walk of shame through the halls to the parking lot. She followed the woman outside toward the parking lot in silence. She kept her head down as she walked toward the car. As she walked she felt the poop slide around in her panties and against the inside of her leg. “How could you disgrace yourself so badly?” said the woman. “I could imagine a first grader having an accident, but you? You’re eighteen years old and a senior. She led Bridget to a maroon Taurus and opened the passenger side door. Bridget was about to get in, but the woman grabbed her by the arm. “Don’t sit down,” the woman said. She opened the back door. Bridget watched as the woman stripped the plastic off the dry cleaning laid in the back seat. She put the plastic on the passenger seat. “You can sit down now.” Bridget sat. It felt disgusting enough to have poop in her pants, but when she sat down it was worse. The poop was soft enough that it squeezed into empty spaces inside her panties. Some felt like it moved to the front of her panties. She hoped it didn’t go inside her. The woman got behind the wheel and they drove off. The only conversation was the woman berating the state of her underwear. Bridget just ignored her and looked out the window. When she caught her badly angled reflection in the mirror she froze. Her wavy red hair was now dark brown and straight. Her face was now had the glow of youth. It wasn’t her face. She put her hand to her face and the reflection did the same. This wasn’t even her body. She looked at the woman. Her colorations and looks were an older version of the reflection. “Mother?” “What?” the woman said. She didn’t know what to say. Was this how reincarnation worked? She didn’t think she was in Heaven or Hell. She didn’t know much about reincarnation, but she had thought reincarnated people start their new life at birth, not as an embarrassed teen in high school. “What, Angela?” the woman, her mother repeated. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m sure you are,” her mother said. “You still are grounded. No TV and no computer beyond what you need for schoolwork, understand?” Oh joy, do I really have to repeat this horrible part of growing up too? she thought. “How long?” “For the rest of the week.” That wasn’t too bad. “It’s Wednesday, right?” “Yes,” her mother said and turned into a driveway. The house was a suburban two story house. So much for lucking out and being reincarnated to a rich family. Maybe her karma was wrong because of how she reacted during the attack. What if she could have turned the truck far enough to the right? Would have she have ended up in a rich family or at least made the transition with clean underwear? “Now straight to the bathroom,” her mother said. I hope she didn’t think I would sit around stinking like I am, she thought. She had to waddle a bit as the poop was stuck to her bottom. Worse, it was starting to cool. Her pee stained thighs felt as if they were freezing. Her mother led her to the bathroom and left her standing inside. “Don’t move. I’ll get a trash bag.” Bridget looked longingly at the bathtub, but she stood on the cold tiled floor until her new mother returned. “I think everything from the waist down is a loss.” She shook open the trash bag and set it opened on the floor. Bridget kicked off her shoes and stepped inside the trash bag. She looked at her mother, but shrugged and lowered her pants and panties down into the trash. She looked down at her poop-streaked legs and sighed. “Would you like me to help you clean up?” her mother asked. The woman might be her mother, but Bridget still felt like she was a stranger. “I can handle it, mother.” “Okay, I will lay some clothes on the sink for you.” She left. Bridget took toilet paper and tried to get the worse of the mess off her legs and bottom. She let the paper drop into the trash bag. The shower that followed made her feel somewhat clean again. The water washed away the smeared poop, the horrible smell that seeped into her skin, and the clammy feeling of cold pee, but it didn’t make her feel truly clean again. When she emerged from the shower, the disgusting trash bag was gone. Clean panties, jeans and a t-shirt lay on the counter. She dried off with a fluffy white towel and dressed into the new clothes. When she left the bathroom, her mother noticed right away. “I put your backpack on the bed up in your room. Work on your homework until I say you can come down.” “Yes, ma’am,” said Bridget. She walked up the stairs and into a hallway. She didn’t know which was her room, but she knew it was the one with the red backpack on the bed. She looked in all three bedrooms until she found the one that was hers. The room was smallish. It contained a twin bed, a writing desk with a Macbook on it and a large chest of drawers. A bookshelf stood by the window, filled with horrible romance novels. Bridget shuttered at the sight of them. The room was overly neat. That told her that information about herself would be easy to find or not there at all. The red Jansport on the bed showed the most promise of having the information she sought. She unzipped the backpack and dumped the contents onto the bed: five spiral notebooks, a physics textbook, a Pre-Calculus book, and an English book lay on her bed. She opened the small pocket on the backpack and took out a cell phone, a little brown leather calendar, and a romance novel with a bookmark in it. She picked up the little leather book and opened it to the first page. Inside in very neat handwriting was her class schedule. She groaned when she read the list of classes. Physics AP, Pre-Calculus AP, English AP, Fundamentals of Computers, Spanish II, and Study Hall. At least she had a study hall. She had taken German in high school, but she didn’t remember much. The only Spanish she knew was from coworkers. She hoped it would be enough. She would have to seriously study to catch up. She’d also taken Physics and Calculus during the two years of college before she ran out of money and had to take that job at the department store. If her father wouldn’t have fronted her the money for truck driving school, she would still be working retail. During the past twelve years, she wished she would have stayed in retail. Her truck would not have been hijacked and her father would not have died of a heart attack the day she was arrested. She opened the calendar to the current date. Every date had the date each homework assignment was due. Her new life had been incredibly organized. She started on the pre-calc assignment. It took her over two hours to do. There were at least twenty-five complex problems and she had to read the text portion of the chapter and consult her notes to even know what to do. All the problems were even numbered problems, so she couldn’t look for answers in the back of the book. She had to solve the odd problems anyway so she would know she was doing the problems correctly. Physics was different. She thought physics would be hard, but they were studying electricity. The problems were just resistance or capacitance of circuits, and her father was an electrician. She knew the theory. It was simple to calculate those problems. That took another hour. She was about to open up her English book, when her mother opened her bedroom door. “You can come down for supper,” she said. “How is your homework coming?” “Two subjects down.” “Come down and eat.” Bridget went down the stairs. ### The table was set for two. A TV dinner was set at each place. “I didn’t make a big production of dinner because your father is not here tonight.” “Where is he?” Bridget asked. “Don’t you remember? He is one of the witnesses to the execution.” She frowned. “I wanted to be there to see that horrible woman put to death myself, but there were so many parents who lost a child at that school.” Bridget froze. Was she talking about her. “The woman who couldn’t stop the terrorist from…” “That woman was the terrorist, and you were in kindergarten then. Your poor big sister died because of that wicked woman.” Bridget remembered when the joy that the tanker missed the elementary school turned to horror as she watched it veer into the middle school instead. During the twelve years of second guessing her brief struggle with the terrorist, she relived every scenario in her mind and still no matter what children died and she couldn’t go back and fix it anyway. At least she had not been put to death. By Fates she ended up in a young body. She smiled when she thought of the chaos that was probably ensuing due to her disappearance from the gurney. The timing was none too soon; needle had almost gone into her vein. She dug her fork into the food and tried to take a bite. Her lasagna, cooked with all the finesse of a microwave, seemed a bit more satisfying. Her mother looked at her watch. “We’re missing the News.” She picked up the remote and aimed it at the TV. “I’ll let you watch this even though I grounded you from the TV, but Angela,” her mother said, “No other TV until you are ungrounded.” “Yes, ma’am,” Bridget said. She felt excitement. She was going to relish hearing the news of her magical escape. She could barely eat her meal as she impatiently waited for the weatherman to stop droning on about cumulus clouds. “In the capital today, the terrorist Bridget Addison was set to be executed.” The TV screen showed protesters out protesting the death penalty. Bridget scowled at them. She hated death penalty protesters in spite of the fact that the death penalty had made a mistake in her case. She looked back at the screen. “Two hundred forty children died when Bridget Addison rammed a tanker truck into a middle school.” The screen showed another group of people holding signs. One said, “Burn, Bridget, burn.” “I wish we could strap her to a tanker and light her up,” said a man when a reporter held a microphone up to her face. Just wait, thought Bridget, until they announce my escape. “At 1:32 PM,” the news announcer continued, “Bridget Addison was given lethal injection. She jokingly asked if the alcohol on her arm was to prevent infection, and then made a rambling statement. When she finished, she whispered something to the executioner, and lay back as the needle entered her arm. She then screamed for her father, and was pronounced dead at 1:36 PM” It couldn’t have happened like that. She didn’t die. She was sitting right here watching it on TV. Sure she had another body, but it was a newly created life she was starting anew. Wasn’t it? What if it wasn’t a great escape, but she just traded bodies with Angela Murphy? That girl was innocent of everything, but if their bodies were switched… “Oh God, Oh God,” she said. She had another life on her conscious now. She felt hot as the blood rushed to her face. Her whole body felt numb and then her thighs felt warm. A pattering sound came from beneath her chair, but she couldn’t investigate it until the news story ended. “They killed her,” she said. She finally managed to look down and just stared at her lap as she finished peeing her pants. “Angela Mae Murphy,” said her mother. No, it was Angela’s mother. She was just a cuckoo egg left behind to devour the woman’s children. She was a pretender. “Angela, you’re peeing your pants.” “I’m so sorry,” she said. She forced herself to look in the woman’s eyes, “I’m truly sorry for everything.” The lady looked at her with sad eyes. “Go to your room and change.” The woman sighed. “What am I going to do with you, Angela?” Bridget got up from the table and went to the upstairs bathroom. She undressed from the waist down and threw her wet things in the hamper. She walked bare-bottomed to her room and got dressed into some clean clothes. She heard an annoying tune. Her phone sat on top of her bed where she had dumped everything out and a light on it was flashing. She picked it up. “Hello?” “Are you okay?” the voice asked. Bridget looked at the display on the phone. “Lia?” “Yeah, it’s me. Are you all right? I felt bad leaving you in the nurses office, but I had to go to class. The whole school is talking about your accident.” She’s the blonde girl with the glasses, Bridget thought. “I was afraid of that? Do you think they will make fun of me for the rest of time, or did I just lose temporary coolness points?” “Angela, we are both in AP courses and we are in the top ten percent of the class. We never had coolness points.” “Oh,” she said disappointed, “Any other bad news?” “Umm, yes,” said Lia, “but I can’t tell you because it will make you cry.” “Go ahead,” Bridget said. “It’s about Evan Fiscus.” She had no clue who the guy was, but the way Lia was going on, she probably should know. “Is this news going to change any of my plans?” “Yes. He is being a bastard about your accident. He told me to tell you he won’t take you to prom anymore. He asked that ho Julia Grass instead. I’m so sorry, Angela.” “Oh, darn,” Bridget said. She really didn’t care about Angela’s boyfriend and it was just as well. It was bad enough replacing a daughter that was executed in her place. A complex relationship was just too much. “You’re taking this well,” Lia said. “I hope you’re not getting depression. If you’re sad you can talk to me.” “It’s nothing,” I said. “I just had a really bad day. I actually forgot how to speak Spanish.” “What? You’re the best Spanish student in the class. Just re-read the conversation over and over. We have until Monday to get it down. We can practice this weekend.” “Well I suppose you called me about homework. I finished Pre-Calculus and Physics.” “In English, just read the last three chapters of Brave New World. Miss Crampton is going to have us compare 1984 to Brave New World in an essay we have to write. That’s not due until next week. In Spanish: just work on our conversation. You wrote the whole thing in your notebook. You know this backward and forward.” “Okay, so I just memorize my part and we read it together like in a play?” I ask. “Yes. Are you sure you are all right. You don’t sound like yourself.” “I’m okay,” I said. “I’m so grounded though.” “For how long?” “Friday.” “This fundamentals of computers class: I don’t have the book at home with me. What do we have to do in there?” “You’re usually the organized one. The PowerPoint thing is due Friday.” “The power what?” she asked. Oh God, I am so screwed, she thought. “Your PowerPoint Presentation.” “Oh,” she said, “PowerPoint.” The Internet really took off while she was in prison. She had limited access to computers, but she could get magazines and read about them. She had had plenty of time to read. “You’re acting a little weird.” “Sorry, I am really drained because I had the worst day of my life today.” “Well I will let you go. I will see you on the bus.” “Bye,” Bridget said and closed the phone. Bridget opened up the spiral notebook labeled Spanish and flipped to the last marked page. Each line had neatly written gibberish following the name Angela or Lia. She flipped back until there was a heading. The conversation was three pages long. “Tomorrow, get the pronunciation of every word,” she said to herself. She pulled out her book for English class and read 1984 halfway through. “Catch up on this too,” she said. She packed her backpack and got ready for class. She wasn’t sure she wanted to face high school again, but she knew it would be an improvement over yesterday. She changed into pajamas and went to the bathroom. She got ready the best she could. She refused to guess on the toothbrush, but there was a spare in the cupboard so she opened and used it. She made sure she peed before going to bed and left to her room. The bed, cleared of the backpack contents, was actually comfortable. It was a big improvement over a prison cot. She covered up and soon was asleep. ### The truck drove on through the early morning light. All eighteen wheels gleamed. The silver tank held its 9000 gallons. Each stop was written in red marker on her map. She knew which roads to take. The hijacker came again like every other night and the dead children invited her to relive her failure to save them again. Tonight was different. There was another dead child. She waved out the door of the elementary school, as the truck skidded into the middle school. “You’ll kill me to save yourself,” she accused. The dream usually ended when the truck crashed but tonight, it continued into death row. Tonight Angela Murphy lay on the gurney. She screamed and screamed as the needle entered her arm. “You killed me to save yourself.” Bridget sat upright in the bed. It was just a dream. She felt at the sweaty sheets, but they were wetter than usual. She lifted up the blankets and turned on the lamp. She had wet the bed. How many accidents was she going to have? First in the kitchen and now in bed. She didn’t count the one in the bathroom because technically that was Angela’s accident, not hers. She had nightmares almost every night for twelve years, and this was the first time it made her wet the bed. She hoped Angela didn’t have a weak bladder or anything. Bridget sighed and got out of her wet bed. “Usually I want to go back to sleep,” she said to herself. There was no way she wanted to lay on those cold clammy sheets. She peeled off her wet pajamas and sighed. She got some underwear out of the drawer and walked to the bathroom. The heat of the shower massaged her body and she hoped it also washed away the pissy smell from her skin. She hated stepping out of the shower, but she needed to get stuff done. After brushing her teeth and hair, she walked back to her bedroom. It was still early; the clock said 5:15. She opened her closet to select what to wear. She hated everything she saw. She was used to a whole different high school wardrobe. Everything here was different. All the jeans were low cut; all the tops were immodest. She eventually selected a baby doll t-shirt that had some chemistry quote on it and some jeans. She chose the non-faded jeans. If her bladder rebelled in school today, at least it wouldn’t show, she hoped. She put all her wet things in a clothes basket and wandered over to the bookshelf. She was not going to go back to sleep and risk wetting her clean outfit, so she scanned the shelf for something enjoyable to read. It wasn’t likely with the shelf of bad romance, but she found something useful on the lowest shelf: the East High School yearbook. It might make it easier to fit in if she knew with whom she was dealing with. She read the book for another hour. “Angela, time to wake up,” said her mother. She opened the door and looked at her. “Oh, you’re already dressed.” “Um, yes,” Bridget said. She blushed at the thought of the woman seeing the clothesbasket. “Angela,” her mother asked, “Why are your sheets not on your bed?” She looked over to the clothes basket. “Did you wet yourself again?” Bridget looked down at the floor and nodded. “Angela, what’s going on?” “Nothing.” There was no way Bridget could tell the truth. “I just had a bad dream and…” “Well get ready for breakfast.” She pointed to the sheets. “I suppose I am going to have to wash those before I pick your father up from the airport. I am sure that finding out his daughter has forgotten how to use the toilet is not the first thing he wants to learn when he comes home.” “Thank you,” Bridget said. She didn’t know what else to say. ### Breakfast was delicious. Her own mother either never bothered to make breakfast, or just poured Bridget a bowl of cereal. Angela’s mother made bacon and eggs, and served juice. The empty spot in Bridget’s stomach felt warm and full for the first time in years. Maybe living here wasn’t too bad. “Your bus is coming in about ten minutes,” her mother said. “Are you sure you don’t want to go to the bathroom first?” Bridget was about to give an angry reply that she wasn’t a four-year-old, but given her accident record in the last day, she bit her lip and went to the bathroom before running out to catch the bus. As soon as the big yellow bus pulled to a stop in front of her, Bridget remembered why she hated that part of school. Riding the bus had been the most humiliating part of high school for her. She bit her lip and walked up the steps. The bus was crowded, dirty, and it smelled. A few people whispered and pointed when she got on. She knew they were talking about what happened the previous day. She guessed their whispers were, “She’s the girl who had an accident,” or “She’s the girl who peed her pants.” “Angela.” Bridget looked around. Lia was waving at her from halfway back. She stepped over the obstacles of backpacks in her path in the aisle until she got to Lia and took a seat next to her. “Hi,” she said. “Buenos dias,” Lia replied. She smiled. “What?” Bridget asked. “I was saying good morning to you, chica. Did you sleep okay?” “Oh yeah. Spanish.” Why didn’t Angela take German? Better yet, why didn’t she take Spanish in high school? She remembered. Jesse Stevens took German, so she had to take it to so she could get a date. It was a wasted effort. He took Allison Stewart to junior prom. She did well in German, so she never regretted the decision until now. If only she had taken Spanish, then she would not have to learn two years of language in less than a semester. “I got it taken care of. I found our conversation in my notes. We’ll go over it Friday night, right?” “That’s what I said,” Lia replied. Bridget twisted her hair around her finger and tried to think of something intelligent to say. “So are you seeing the new Star Trek movie?” Lia asked. “There’s a new Star Trek movie?” Bridget asked. “I guess that is a no,” her friend said, “You know those Harlequin romances will rot your brain.” “Will they really?” Bridget asked. “I guess not, but you are too smart to read those.” Lia smiled and looked out the window. “Hey. We’re at school.” The two girls filed off the bus and headed to their lockers. Bridget just followed Lia. How was she going to know which locker was hers? Bridget’s face turned red as the answer to her question became readily apparent. A baby diaper taped to her locker worked as well as a flashing beacon that pointed her way through the fog of students. Lia ripped the diaper off and tossed it in the trash. “How dare they,” she yelled. Bridget randomly turned the lock on her locker. It was no use anyway. She wouldn’t know the combination. “It won’t open,” she said. “Here, let me try.” Lia opened the locker up. “I guess I am just upset,” she answered. She pulled out her books she thought she would need for the morning and followed Lia to pre-Calculus. The class was boring. The teacher droned on and on like the science teacher on the Wonder Years. She whispered her thoughts to Lia. “What’s the Wonder Years?” “Just an old TV show.” She couldn’t make that mistake too many times. If she wasn’t grounded, she would have spent time watching TV to see what she should be making references to. The Ferris Bueller teacher kept rambling on. He probably didn’t even notice his white-board marker faded to illegible scribbles five minutes ago. No, that was just an epsilon and an alpha. The rest of the morning classes were uneventful. Physics was more lecture and in English they discussed Brave New World. Mrs. Miller took the opportunity to embarrass her by asking her to compare the life styles of John Savage and Henry Foster. She had no idea who the woman was talking about. “Um, I don’t know.” “Angela did you even read the book. Your paper on differences between themes of 1984 and Brave New World is due Monday. It is Thursday.” “I’m working on my paper,” she said. “Can you answer the question?” she asked Lia. “John was a savage and had a mother. Henry was born in a test tube. It was an insult if someone suggested you had a mother or a father.” “Good, Lia,” said Mrs. Miller. “At least someone knows the material.” After class, they went to lunch. Before going to the cafeteria Bridget stopped in the restroom just to make sure. “Wow, Miss Grosstree really laid into you about not knowing the material,” Lia said. “You usually know your stuff. What happened?” Bridget thought of a quick lie. “You know that book I have with Fabio on the cover?” she asked. “Well I wanted to know if Tilda and Henri got together. They hated each other at the beginning of the book and... Well, I read it instead of Brave New World. So did Henry really come from a test tube?” “Angela, are you getting senioritis? Even if you already got into college, you will still need to take your AP tests to get college credit for your basic courses.” “I will read it tonight,” she told her. She guessed it would be no sleep that night. She was going to finish 1984 and start on Brave New World if it killed her. *** When they stood in line in the cafeteria, Bridget knew she had been wrong. The bus was not the worse part of school it was the cafeteria food. She took her tray and sat down with Lia. Lia opened her milk and took a sip. “I didn’t know how far behind you were slipping.” “Oh relax,” Bridget said. She forked a bite of her spaghetti. “This tastes like prison food,” she said. “What would you know of prison food?” ask Lia. “Are you kidding? I’ve been here for what, almost twelve...” She stopped herself. “I don’t know, but I imagine cafeteria food and prison food are similar.” “Exactly you’re guessing.” “So.” “Don’t look. Evan Fiscus and his ho Julia Grass.” Bridget looked. Julia was blond and skinny. She wore a top that was so low, she had to keep pulling it up so her breasts wouldn’t spill out which was a remarkable feat considering her breasts were on the small side. Her blonde hair was long, but thin and she apparently was no stranger to peroxide. She did look pretty though, but Bridget knew that Angela’s body was better. She was more curvier and had a prettier face. Evan Fiscus was just a jock. He wore jeans and a letterman’s jacket. Since it was the off-season, he grew his hair out. It had that same look that made Bridget feel old. To her all the guys looked like they needed a haircut. “I just looked. So?” she asked Lia. “He’s coming this way.” The couple came over to their table. “Hi,” Evan said. “You’re a jerk Evan,” said Lia. “This is between me and Angela,” he said. He put one arm around Julia’s waist and pulled her close to him. “Let me guess,” said Bridget. “You came over to tell me you are breaking up with me and I am gross. Did I miss anything?” “Yes,” he said. “I am dating Julia now.” “You’re just a big jerk, Evan,” said Lia. “I’m the star quarterback, so I got to keep up my reputation for cool. I can’t have a girlfriend who goes around leaving a trail.” Lia stood up. “I’m going to hurt you, Evan Fiscus.” “Don’t worry about it, Lia,” Bridget said. “I am going to go to college in the fall. No one there will know about yesterday’s incident and we’ll have college boyfriends.” She looked at Julia who hadn’t said anything yet. She had looked up Julia Grass in the year book. “What are you Julia? A junior? Are you going to trust Evan to behave himself when you are a senior next year and he is a freshman football player in college surrounded by hot college girls? Maybe he’ll wait for you.” Julia turned bright red and looked at Evan. She turned back to Bridget. “At least I don’t pee and crap my pants, Angela.” She turned and walked away pulling Evan with her. “Wow, Angela,” said Lia. “You showed them. That was pretty harsh. I thought you would be crying.” “Well in this novel I was reading, Rafe Castillo wanted to be with Lily Black even though Lisa Fennimore said Rafe was the father of her baby. It turned out that Lisa was just lying and when they got married, it turned out that she hired an actor to be the priest so the wedding wasn’t valid any way. Rafe left town and had nothing to do with either of them.” “Angela, I swear you need to put away those romance novels.” Bridget didn’t have the heart to tell her that it was actually a plot to a soap opera her mother had watched in the nineties. She would never actually try to read the romance novels on Angela’s shelf. She needed to get some science fiction in there or something. “A girl’s got to read something,” she said. “Do you have anything better for me to read? I am planning on reading Brave New World tonight.” “Brave New World is a good start, but it is too academic as far as science fiction goes. Miss Grosstree said it was not science fiction because it is good, but she doesn’t want to admit science fiction is good.” “Who cares?” Bridget asked. “Time for class.” She stood up and picked up her tray. “Are you ready to finish your PowerPoint?” “Why not?” Bridget followed her friend to put away her tray and go to class. ### Computer class was something else indeed. It should have been simple, but so much had changed while she was in prison. Bridge just wanted to run out screaming. She had used PowerPoint a bit, but it wasn’t like she was used to. So much was different. It started out bad when she sat down and logged in. Fortunately Angela had written her username and password on the first page of her computer class notebook. No problem there. Her notes also said, “Finish PowerPoint,” not “do PowerPoint,” so it was saved somewhere. She looked at Lia to see where she got her disk from, but Lia was already working on her project. She opened her backpack and began looking for it. It was nowhere to be seen. She closed her backpack and put her keys and cell phone next her keyboard. “Lia, where did I save my PowerPoint?” “Probably on your thumb drive. It should be on your keychain.” Bridget picked up her keys and looked over at Lia’s computer. She saw how it worked and put the thumb drive in the USB port and fired up PowerPoint. It was surprisingly well done. The last two pages didn’t have the data listed. It was a simple matter to type in the last two slides from the outline in her notebook. She saved it and had it ready in no time. She spent the rest of class going over the slides and practicing the presentation she thought she would have to give. Spanish was film day, so they just watched Spanish language films. Bridgett was totally lost. At least there was no assignment given. “Remember, your conversations are due next week. I think Angela and Lia are first on Monday,” said Senorita Faust. Bridget groaned. At least it was only going to be like a play. She would have to work on the conversation with Lia that weekend. She worked on homework in study hall while Lia went to choir. She thanked God for small miracles that she didn’t have to go to choir. Bridget hated her voice and she hated the idea of trying to sing with Angela’s voice. Singing is a skill of the mind, not of the vocal cords and Bridget guessed she would be horrible at it even if Angela was good. She finished pre-calculus okay and had to only take Physics, Spanish, and 1984 and Brave New World home with her. She sat with Lia on the bus. When she arrived home, her bed was neatly made with fresh sheets. There was no pee smell at all. She lay on the bed and worked on homework and only came down for supper. She lay in bed and read 1984 to its completion. She was going to read through Brave New World, but she glanced at the clock and it showed that it was already 12:30. She turned off the light and went to sleep. There was no truck in her dreams. Instead it was rats. Lots of rats like the ones that made Winston love Big Brother instead of Julia. She woke up screaming. She felt around, but there were no rats. She was in her room. The sheets were sweaty and--she felt around her bottom and found a pee-soaked wet spot. “Uggg,” she said. She wet the bed again. A glance at her clock slowed her it was six. It was time to get ready anyway. Why was she wetting the bed? There was no truck dream with dying children. She got up and stripped her bed. She hoped Angela’s mother wasn’t too mad. “I swear, Angela,” said Bridget’s mother when she came to wake her up for school. “What is this? The second day in a row? I won’t mention the accidents you had Wednesday.” Bridget looked toward her mother. “I’ve been having bad dreams at night,” she said. She did not want to tell her about her regular bad dreams and she definitely did not want to tell her about her body jumping. “We will talk about this later. Get ready for school and come down for breakfast.” Her mother walked toward the door, but turned back to face Bridget. “We need to have a talk after school.” She left Bridget alone. Bridget went to the bathroom and peeled off her wet pajama bottoms. This had to stop. There was no way she could continue waking up wet every morning that she had been in Angela’s body. She was at a loss. The hot shower water rinsed the pee smell from her legs and crotch. Her hands rubbed the soap against her skin. It was much softer than her skin had been before when she was Bridget, but of course, Angela was much younger. Her hair was an actual color: a deep, rich brown that contrasted with her milky white skin. It was a lot better than the mousey redish-brown her old hair had been, plus it was straight and smooth. She wondered why Angela wasn’t more popular. She wasn’t in the in crowd because she was smart. Lia had confirmed that, and besides, her accident in school did not help matters. Lia said people would forget about it soon, but she doubted it. She still remembered the girl in seventh grade who wet her pants before giving a presentation in English class. She stepped out of the shower, toweled herself off and hurried to her room to dress. She chose a plaid skirt and a white top--the Catholic look would always be in--and headed down stairs for breakfast. She smelled bacon and eggs as she walked down the stairs to the kitchen. A man, sitting at the table looked up from a newspaper and greeted her, “Hey, pumpkin, did anything exciting happen when I was gone.” She looked at her mother who shook her head. “No, sir.” She pulled out her chair and sat down. “Why so formal today?” he asked. Bridget’s father had been in the military and expected her to say “yes, sir” and “no, sir”. This would take some getting used to. At least she was able to spread out the misery a bit. “Sorry, Dad.” Sooner or later someone would think her miscues were strange and they might find she wasn’t who they thought she was. “I missed you when I was away.” “I missed you too, Dad.” “Well, I better get to work.” Her father folded his newspaper and walked out the door. Bridget sat and ate her breakfast. “Now remember we need to have a talk when you get home,” her mother said. “It’s going to be about my punishment for wetting the bed. Isn’t it?” She wondered what her mother could have in store for her. Fear of punishment might make things worse. She knew that a punishment wouldn’t make the dreams go away. Nothing would. “It is about your bedwetting,” her mother said, “but don’t think of it as a punishment.” She picked up Bridget’s empty plate and took it to the dishwasher. “Now catch your bus before you get left behind.” Bridget hurried out to the bus ready to begin class ### Like yesterday, Bridget rode the bus sitting next to Lia. “I’m so glad it is Friday,” she said. “So are we going to work on Spanish after school?” She really needed help to get through her Spanish conversation. She had tried reading through it, but had trouble with her pronunciation. “Well, I thought we see Star Trek and then study.” Lia looked at her and smiled. “You can stay over at my house and then we can stay up as late as we need to get through the entire conversation.” “Lia, I don’t think it would be a good idea to stay at your house.” Lia looked hurt. “I thought you would protest going to see Star Trek. We could see a romantic comedy if you insist, then you can come over.” “Star Trek is fine,” Bridget said. She wanted to see it, but did not want to wait too long to get studying. She certainly didn’t want to spend the night and wake up wet at Lia’s house. “I just don’t want to sleep over.” “We have fun. We’re best friends,” Lia protested. “Why don’t you?” Bridget would have to tell Lia the real reason she couldn’t come over. Bridget sighed. “You can’t tell anyone what I am telling you.” She paused and felt her face burn red. “It’s like this. This is really embarrassing so you can’t tell anyone.” She waited until Lia nodded. “Ever since Wednesday I’ve...” She leaned in close to Lia and whispered, “I’ve been wetting the bed.” “You what!” Bridget had to clamp her hand over Lia’s mouth to keep her from blurting out. “Be quiet,” she whispered loudly. “I don’t need that fact spread over the school too.” “That’s why you don’t want to come over, isn’t it?” Lia leaned closer. “You don’t need to be embarrassed. I’m your friend.” “Me, too,” she said. “Thanks.” She still needed that Spanish study session or she would be lost on Monday. “If you want, you can come over to my house after the movie and study.” “That would be good,” said Lia. The bus arrived at school just in time. Calculus and Physics were uneventful. In the halls between classes other students would point and start whispering. She knew they were talking about her accident on Wednesday. (Rather Angela’s accident as she did not trade bodies with Angela until after she had the accident.) She made sure to use the bathroom before English class. It was Mrs. Miller who had not let Angela use the bathroom in the first place which caused the whole episode. She did not know whether to blame her for the extra life on her conscious or thank her that she was still alive albeit in a different body. She met with Lia before class. “Ready to face Grosstree?” she asked as they took their seats in the classroom. “Sure,” Bridget muttered. She had spent Calculus and Physics reading Brave New World under her desk. It was really a different type of totalitarianism than 1984. One was awful in the creepy jack-booted-thug sort of way, but the other was a overly friendly creepiness. By Ford, it was beyond screwed up. “It’s Mrs. Miller now, dork,” said a sarcastic voice behind them. “She’s only been married for two months already. Can’t you adjust?” Lia turned and stuck her tongue out. “Does it matter, Cindy?” Before Cindy could come up with a retort, class started. They started right away with Brave New World discussion. Bridget tried her best to stay out of the discussion. At least in this class she didn’t have to hide the book in her lap and look under her desk as she read it. She simply had it open on her desk and read through it. Easy as pie. She had to answer a question about what type of clone Lanina was. “Beta,” she said, “although Henry was an Alpha.” “I can see you finally read the book, Angela,” said her teacher. “Everyone, papers are due Monday at the beginning of class.” The bell rang. “Class dismissed.” Bridget and Lia got out of class quickly and went down to the cafeteria. “What joy do we have today?” Lia looked up at the menu board. “It says Frito pie. There should be some kind of true in advertising: chili poured over corn chips.” “I actually like that,” Bridget said. She pulled a plastic spork from the container and grabbed a tray of food. “Is this from Miss ‘It Tastes Like Prison Food?’” Lia took her own tray and they found a table together. “Even in prison Frito pie has to be good,” Bridget said. Sadly, it had been the only thing she looked forward to during her twelve years on death row. She couldn’t go to the weekly movies they played for the general population because of security. She could read or listen to the radio. She mainly read. “Whatever,” said Lia. She took a bite of her food. “About tonight,” Bridget asked, “when does the movie start?” “They’re showing it on a million screens, so there is one every half hour. I would like to go to an earlier showing so we can study earlier. How about just ride the bus to my house and we’ll drive to the theater. My brother is letting me drive his car.” “Um, I can’t then. I got to go home so my mother can chew me out for peeing the bed.” Bridget’s face reddened. “My dad got home and she was too busy to finish chewing me out.” “Oh he was at the execution of that horrible...” Bridget didn’t wait. She got up and ran from the table to the bathroom. She remembered the pattering pee falling beneath her chair on Wednesday and she didn’t want a repeat accident here. Fortunately she made it to the bathroom dry. She used the restroom and returned to the table. “Lia, please don’t talk about Bridget Addison in my presence again. Especially at school. It is nightmares about her that give me problems at night.” “What kind of...” Lia began. “Oh.” She looked at me with doe eyes. “I’m sorry.” The rest of lunch was spent in silence until the bell rang. It was frustrating Bridget to no end that she couldn’t keep the bed dry for one night since her metamorphosis. It was almost a relief when the bell rang and she could go to class. Fundamentals of Computers was next. She sat down at her place and logged into her machine. She still needed her notes to remember the password. She had logged in by the time Lia arrived at the place beside her. “You got all quiet on me at lunch,” said Lia. “Are you mad at me?” “No,” Bridget answered. “I was just thinking about stuff. Thanks for not bolting on me when I told you my secret.” “We’re friends. I wouldn’t bolt on you.” “Thanks.” “Besides,” said Lia. She opened the drawer under her computer and pulled out a gamepad. “I need you on my team for Friday LAN party. I hope you finished your PowerPoint.” Bridget wondered if you took turns playing or what. She hadn’t played video games in years. She had played Doom and Sim City, but that had been ages ago. Ms. Hardy, the computer teacher walked around the room. “Put your thumb drives in the basket if you are finished with your assignment.” She carried the basket around the class room. Lia threw her thumb drive into the basket and Bridget did the same. Some of the students started to work on their assignments instead of turning it in. The rest of the class pulled game controllers from the drawer beneath their computers and started to play games. Bridget started the same game as Lia. It looked like a shooting game, but a screen came up and asked what server she wanted to join. There was a list. “What server do I put?” she asked Lia. “Are you having memory problems, Angela?” Lia looked worried. “It seems that since Wednesday’s incident, you’ve asked questions that you should know and it’s really creeping me out.” Bridget froze. She could feel the blood drain from her face. Lia knew. “Umm,” she said while stalling for time. She forced herself to calm down. Lia couldn’t know the whole story. Jumping from body to body was crazy. It only happened in science fiction stories. Lia liked science fiction almost as much as she did, but Lia knew that Angela liked romance and she gave her a dig about reading too much romance. “I’ve been going through a lot of stress recently with graduation coming up, needing a new prom date, and Spanish. It’s everything at once.” She smiled. “Did you think I was a pod person?” “Pod person?” asked Lia. “Invasion of the Body Snatchers. And I thought you watched too much science fiction.” “We’re on server B2,” said Lia. Her face pinkened with embarrassment over my remark. “We’re Blue team,” she added when Bridget almost picked Red. It was a shooting game like Doom. There were no cheat codes like in Doom and the graphics were far better: no pixilation or anything. It was a lot more complicated. Her screen flashed red and her gun began to shake on the screen before her view shifted vertical to horizontal. The words, “Fragged you Accident Girl,” appeared on the screen. They did the same thing over and over until she got a handle on the controls and how the game worked. The next time they came around she shot them with her shotgun and ran across the screen to a more defensible position. She pulled out the sniper rifle and just killed Red Team players for the rest of the class period. In Spanish she had to pay attention. She was lost most of the class because the teacher taught it in Spanish. If only the teacher taught German instead. She could ace that, or at least relearn that. The Spanish teacher asked Lia something and she nodded and said, “Si.” Then she asked Bridget the same thing. She took a fifty-fifty chance and said, “Si.” The teacher seemed pleased by her remark. “Everyone, conversations are due next week. Angela and Lia volunteered to go first, so they get five bonus points. We will have a test next Friday. You should be able to handle it easily. It is on chapter eighteen in your book.” The bell rang and Bridget hurried to study hall. She got the pre-Calculus done fairly quickly and was about to pull Brave New World out to read, but the bell rang. She hurried to the bus. At least she had the weekend to get caught up. She hoped she could make it through Spanish and graduate. ### On the bus ride home, Lia seemed excited. She chattered constantly about what she heard on the Internet about Star Trek and how when the new Spock did a mind meld, he gave a whole new meaning to the term “my mind to your mind.” “I don’t get it,” said Bridget. “Because Zachary Quinto plays Siler on Heroes.” She paused to see if I recognized what she was talking about. “And Siler eats peoples’ brains.” “Ick,” said Bridget. “I don’t think I want to watch Heroes.” “Don’t worry,” said Lia, “I won’t watch it anymore after this season. I’ll pick you up in an hour,” she said. The bus stopped in front of Angela’s house. Bridget hadn’t even noticed. She got off the bus and went into the house to have the talk with her mother. ### “How was school, Angela?” asked her mother. “Fine,” she answered. “Sit down and let’s talk.” Bridget sat down on the couch and her mother sat beside her. “You wet the bed two nights in a row and on Wednesday you not only had an accident in school, but you had another one at the dinner table. I’m worried about you.” “I...,” Bridget started to say, but stopped. She didn’t know what to say at all. She was going to be grounded, she knew it and then she would do horrible in Spanish and maybe not get into college. She hoped she could do well if she failed the conversation assignment. She bit her lip and looked at her mother. “How long am I grounded for?” she asked. “I’m not punishing you. I am sure you didn’t mean to have accidents, but I am getting tired of washing your sheets every morning. Just because I work at home doesn’t mean I have time to deal with housework. I have deadlines you know.” “All right, I will try not to wet the bed,” said Bridget. She knew she would anyway. “I think maybe you should wear protection to bed,” her mother said. “I bought you something to wear to protect your sheets.” “What do you mean?” asked Bridget. “Come on up to your room.” Her mother led the way to Bridget’s bedroom. On her bed was a package of Depends. “There is no way I am going to wear diapers,” said Bridget. “I thought you said you wouldn’t punish me.” “It’s just for night. No one will ever know. You don’t have to wake up in wet sheets anymore.” “I can’t. Lia is going to spend the night. I don’t want her to see me in diapers.” “I’ll put them in your closet then.” Her mother carried the bag of diapers to Angela’s closet. “I just thought they would be more comfortable than wet pajamas. We can try them out tomorrow night. Just try them one night and see if you like them.” “I’ll think about them,” said Bridget. She did not want to wear diapers. Even the old people diapers her mother picked out would make her feel babyish. When her mother left, she went to her closet to pick an outfit for the movie. “Jeans and a math shirt would work. Her shirt said, “The meaning of life.” It had a sigma notation equation that worked out to forty-two. She smiled. At least Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy was still popular among other students. The doorbell rung, which meant Lia had arrived. Bridget hurried down to meet her. ### “The movie was really good,” said Bridget as the two girls walked out of the theater. She was surprised that even though they stepped away from cannon, they managed to do it without pissing off the fans, herself included. “I liked it too,” said Lia, “but now I really have to pee. I wish I didn’t drink all that soda.” “I drank as much soda as you and I got to go too,” said Bridget. They finally got out of the hallway and then saw the huge line for the bathroom. Bridget didn’t have to go that bad. None of her accidents were from having to hold it too long, except maybe the first one. They were all from nightmares or the surprise of finding that the real Angela died in her place. Lia, however, was wiggling and crossing her legs. “Lia, want to get a slice of pie at Village Inn? We can walk across the parking lot and use the bathroom there before we even get halfway through this line.” “Good idea,” she said. Bridget led the way out of the theater. She resisted the urge to stop at every movie poster and see what would be playing next. The idea of seeing another movie intrigued her. She moved on. Outside the theater, drivers sat in parked cars waiting for people. Others were standing around talking on cell phone arranging rides or regrouping with friends when they were separated in the crowd. A middle-aged man in jeans and a t-shirt walked toward the theater. He kept his salt and pepper hair trimmed close, almost like a crew cut. His gray eyes pierced through her; they felt cold and there was not a hint of compassion in them. She recognized the eyes. She dreamed of a younger version of this man every night when he hijacked her truck and ran it into the school. The owl tattoos on his arm confirmed her suspicion. This man was the hijacker. She felt numb. What could she do? Would anyone even believe her? She felt hot and moist and... “Angela, Angela, Angela!” Lia hit her on the shoulder to get her attention. “Angela, you’re wetting yourself.” Bridget looked down. Her jeans were soaked between her legs. She stood in a warm puddle, and she was the last one to realize it. The worse thing was it was almost summer, so it was still light enough that it was obvious that she had soaked her jeans. People around her were staring or whispering to one another. Lia’s announcement didn’t help matters; instead it called attention to her. Evan Fiscus and Julia Grass walked up. “It’s your pee-baby ex-girlfriend, Evan,” Julia said with a grin. Evan’s was more shocked than anything else. “What is wrong with you, Angela? Having accidents?” He shook his head and walked away with the giggling Julia. Bridget looked back at the man with the gray eyes and the tattoos. He had a few friends with him and they were walking back to the parking lot. Lia dragged her in the same direction and they headed toward her brother’s car. “What happened?” she asked. “I didn’t think you had to go that bad.” She stopped and crossed her legs and then started toward her car. “I can’t let you sit in the car either. My brother has cloth seats and he will never let me use the car again if I bring it back pee stained.” Bridget started crying. These accidents were ruining her new life. “I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “It’s okay,” said Lia. “I am going to end up like you if I don’t find a bathroom soon,” she said. Bridget dug in her purse for a twenty. “Get us a whole French silk pie when you go in there.” She needed comfort food after tonight’s experience. What would her mother say when she walked in the house like this? “I can’t believe you still want pie,” said Lia, as she walked away from the car. She was shaking her head. While Lia was gone, Bridget looked around. The terrorist and his friends got into a Prius with Washington plates. The girl was young looking, maybe nineteen or twenty. She wore a greenie shirt that said “Go Veg!” on it. The man with her was in his mid-twenties. He wore regular clothes. She watched as the Prius drove away. She didn’t know whether to be relieved they were gone, or worried about what they were about to do. She shivered. Her pee-drenched jeans were beginning to cool and the wet clammy fabric clung to her. People driving by slowed and stared at her. She covered her wet crotch with her hand, but it only rubbed the fabric of her panties against her privates. She blushed and held her hand further in front of her. She knew she would need to explore this feeling later, but now she had more reasons to want to change into dry pants. She thought of the past accidents and thought about what triggered them. They occurred whenever she was alarmed and scared about something to do with the attack. Last night’s bed wetting was the exception, so maybe it was an anomaly or maybe she was just off about the whole accident thing to begin with. She did know she had no way to stop them or even predict them. She thought of the bag of Depends on the floor of her closet. A tear ran down her cheek when she realized what she would have to do. Lia came out of the restaurant about fifteen minutes later. “They didn’t have any French silk. I got Reese’s peanut butter cup pie,” she said. She unlocked the passenger side door for Bridget and took the pie out of the plastic bag. She put the bag on the seat. “I can sit on this bag,” she said. When she sat down on the plastic, Lia handed her the Styrofoam box the pie was in and went to the other side. “Lucky you made it,” said Bridget. “You only had one bag.” Lia ignored her. “Let’s get you home and out of those wet pants.” “Thank you, Lia,” she said. “Most people would have stopped being my friend. I guess I am embarrassing to be around.” She pointed with both hands to her lap. “I can’t say I am not tempted, Angela.” Lia concentrated on driving, so she did not look at her. “I promise I won’t leave puddles behind anymore,” she said. She thought of the Depends and how she didn’t want Lia to see them. She didn’t trust herself to stay dry anymore, so she would have to show Lia before they went to bed. “Angela, you couldn’t help it,” Lia said. “Don’t make a promise you don’t know that you can keep.” “You see what I mean when we get to my house. It’s so embarrassing wetting myself all the time. I wonder what my mother is going to say when she sees me come home like this.” “We can stop at my house and I can run in and get something for you to change into. You’ll have to change in the car.” She wouldn’t mind changing in the car, but she was going to wear the diapers her mother got her until it was safe. “No, I don’t want to pee on your clothes too. Let’s just get to my house.” When she got home her mother was not too happy. “What happened, Angela?” she asked. She saw Lia come in behind her. “Lia, go on up to Angela’s room.” She turned back to Bridget. “This is getting to be a problem. I am going to make an appointment at the doctor’s office for you. Until then, we’ll put you in the Depends I bought.” “During the day too?” Bridget asked. She didn’t blame her if her mother did make her wear them. “That is up to you,” her mother said. “No one will know if your wear them, but they do know if you wet your pants. When Lia leaves in the morning we’ll start on the Depends. At least until the doctor tells us what is wrong.” Bridget closed her eyes. “I’ll wear them.” If this wasn’t a punishment for wetting her pants, the whole situation was a punishment for not saving those children. “I’ll wear them now.” She kept her head down and could not even look at her mother. “Go take a shower. I will get your things. Lia will never know you are wearing protection.” Bridget went to the upstairs bathroom and peeled off her wet clothes. She looked at the image of Angela in the mirror. “I’m sorry things had to work out like this, kid.” By the time she showered and dried off, her mother knocked on the door. “I got your things in my room. I didn’t want Lia to walk in while I change you.” Bridget blushed. She never imagined having to wear diapers again. She wrapped herself in the towel and followed her mother. “Lay down on the bed.” Bridget complied. She closed her eyes and hoped for the diaper to be on so she could get dressed and get out of there. She waited but nothing happened. “You need to watch me so you can do this yourself. You don’t want me to have to come to your school to change you, do you? Besides, you’re big enough to do this yourself.” Bridget blushed. There would be no way to keep the diapers a secret if that were to happen. She watched as her mother powdered her, and taped her diaper shut. She handed her pajamas. Bridget pulled them on. Being naked in front of this strange woman, Angela’s mother, frightened her. If she knew who Bridget really was, the woman would kill her. She felt so vulnerable. The diaper felt thick and snug. It was thicker than the Always pads she wore during her periods. She hoped it could be hidden under her clothes. As she walked out of the room toward her own, she heard a crinkling sound. She would have to wear tight panties over the diaper or something, if she wore it to school. She wondered what Lia would say when she noticed. She opened the door. Lia had put on her own pajamas and was sitting on Angela’s full bed. “Angela,” said Lia, “I was just thinking: what happens if you wet the bed tonight? Won’t you get me wet?” She wrinkled her nose when she said “me”, so Bridget knew the idea disgusted her. “Let’s just get started on Spanish,” Bridget said. “I’m serious, Angela.” She would have to either send her home or tell her about her diapers. They were diapers even though her mother was careful to just call them Depends instead of using the word diaper. “I won’t get you wet,” she said. She pulled down the waistband of her pajamas enough to show the diaper. “My mom bought them for me today for the bedwetting, but after what happened after the movie, I am going to wear them just to be safe.” “O-M-G, Angela,” said Lia. “How long is your mother making you wear them?” “I’m going to the doctor’s, probably on Tuesday, to find out what is wrong with me. Until them I am wearing them.” “Well at least it’s less noticeable than wet pants.” “I hope so, although I don’t plan on peeing in it.” She paused a few seconds. “On purpose anyway. Now let’s get started on Spanish.” It was all Bridget could do to get Lia to focus on Spanish. She kept stopping to ask what it felt like to use a diaper, and since Bridget didn’t know that, what it felt like to wear a diaper. They went through the conversation until Bridget was sure she could get through it by memory. Every so often, Lia would stop and ask, “Is it wet?” or an equally embarrassing question. “So the conversation...,” Bridget said when they got through it enough times. “How was it?” “You did great,” said Lia. “Don’t worry about it. I could have done without you being silly and mispronouncing stuff at the beginning. When you stopped joking around you were good.” “So Monday then,” said Bridget. “Yes Monday,” Lia said. “So Angela, are you really going to wear those diapers to class Monday?” “I don’t see that I have much of a choice. I don’t want to be embarrassed in front of all our friends.” Bridget didn’t want to think about what would happen if the other students discovered that she was diapered. She supposed she would cross that bridge when she came to it. School only had another month anyway. She guessed she could stand the embarrassment for a month. She looked at the clock and yawned. “I didn’t know it was so late.” “Yeah, it’s one o’clock.” Lia yawned and stretched. “I’m ready to go to bed.” They settled in bed. Bridget closed her eyes and tried to sleep in spite of Lia’s soft snoring. It didn’t help that after several hours Lia woke her up. “Are you wet yet?” she asked. “No,” Bridget growled and turned her back and curled into her covers. She felt so a peace when she finally got to sleep. ### She ran as fast as she could, but they were still behind her. She couldn’t just run away from the engine noises because the men in the Prius chasing her were running off the batteries. She had to constantly look back to make sure they had not veered off to double around and come at her from the front. She could see the tattooed driver through the Prius’s windows. His cold, gray eyes pierced her as she tried to escape. She ran toward a gas station she saw in the distance. If only she could make it there, she would be safe, or at least she hoped she would find refuge there. When she arrived at the gas station, she saw no one in sight. The windows were dark and since the only light came from the flickering neon beer lights, she realized it was closed. The pumps were the old style ones with mechanical digits indicating the amount of gas bought and the price. The marquee over the pumps had peeling paint. The only sounds she heard were the metal price advertisements tapping out a warning when the breeze hit them. She looked behind her, seeing the Prius try to run her down. Inside was the terrorist who stole her rig, the young college girl, and the other man she had seen at the theater. The Prius grew as it sped toward her, becoming her own tank truck. The man inside stared her down. It was less than ten feet away when it burst into flames. She braced for the coming impact, but none came. She woke up sweating and screaming. “You okay, Angela?” asked Lia. Bridget rubbed her eyes and tried to get her bearings. Light streamed into the room. She felt her bed near her bottom, but there was no wetness. “Just had a bad dream,” she said. “At least I didn’t wet the bed.” “Well, that’s good,” said Lia. “Maybe you won’t need the diapers anymore.” She put her hand inside her pajamas and felt the plastic of the diaper. It actually felt thicker than it had when she put it on. It also felt squishy. She put her hand in the diaper. Her skin was wet and when she took her hand out, it smelled like pee. “I do need them,” she said. “I’m wet, but my bed is dry.” Lia got out of bed. “I’m going to go take a shower.” She hurried out of the room. “But I--“ Bridget started to say. She got out of bed, took off her pajama bottoms, and looked in the mirror. The blue stripes up and down the front of the diaper were gone. She felt so babyish in the diapers, but at least she didn’t have to strip the bed. “And tomorrow, Angela” she said, “I will plan how to get the people that did this to us.” Bridget took a shower after Lia left. She had a lot of work to do and she hadn’t even finished Brave New World. She would have to do that today to get the report finished. That would wait until her shower was over. She had left the diaper abandoned in the bathroom trash and concentrated on washing herself. Her skin smelled of pee, but that had become a familiar feeling to her of late. She rubbed the scented soap into her skin and felt much cleaner. Once clean, she dressed in a clean diaper, a t-shirt, and some shorts. It was hard to get the diaper on herself, but she managed. She did not want to ask her mother to do it for her again. She got up and spun around in front of the mirror. She couldn’t even see the shape of her diaper underneath her clothes. When she walked down the stairs, it crinkled audible. She blushed. “I’m definitely wearing tight panties over these,” she said to herself. “How did you sleep?” her mother asked. She was getting ready to cook breakfast again. “Did Lia notice your protection?” “I slept okay. I wet again, but the diaper got it all,” said Bridget. She tossed her hair. “Lia didn’t notice it until I told her.” “I am definitely going to make a doctor’s appointment for you,” said her mother. “This is not normal for a girl your age. You are being very cooperative about the wearing the Depends, but I would rather find out what is wrong with you.” “Me too. I don’t want to be in diapers forever.” Bridget knew the doctor wouldn’t find anything physically wrong with her. It was probably psychological and she didn’t know what to tell the shrink. Even if she was inclined to tell the truth, the psychiatrist would think she was crazy. She needed to find that terrorist and bring him to justice. Maybe that would stop the wetting. To find him, she knew, she would need help. She just didn’t know how she would get it. Breakfast was eaten in silence. Her father had already gone to his buddies to practice in their garage band. It was pretty cool to have a father that was a rock star, even if the only money the band made was from t-shirts and CD sales when they played for tips in bars. Her real dad worked at an insurance company. Insurance paid better than rock star; fortunately, her new dad kept his day job. She closed her eyes to keep from crying. Her real father’s death was her fault too. She still blamed herself for his heart attack. If only she had fought of the terrorist sooner she would still be able to spend time with him. She excused herself from the table and began reading Brave New World. It was noon by the time she finished and she had to bolt upstairs when John Savage hanged himself. This book and 1984 had crappy endings. She went to the bathroom and dried her face. She felt like peeing too, so she lowered her diaper and peed like a normal girl. It sure felt good to be in control. When she finished, she pulled up her diaper and shorts and hurried into her bedroom. She had a report to write. The paper only took a few hours to type on her Mac Book. What took so long was figuring out how to use a Mac in the first place. Once she opened Word, it was a simple task to type her report away until she lost track of time. When she finished it was three o’clock. She printed out her report and read over it to check for errors. Then she put it in her folder. Physics and Calculus were both easy compared to writing a paper. Both were just math problems. She finished each of those by five. She thought of her status after wetting in school and in front of her classmates at the movie theater. Wasting a Saturday with school work wasn’t going to hurt her social status at all. Her mother knocked on her door and came in. “I made supper. It’s just the two of us since your father is practicing with his band.” “Sounds good. I’m starved.” She followed her mother down stairs. The table was set already and a cooked frozen pizza was divided in between too plates. She sat down across from her mother. “Have you been staying dry today?” her mother asked. She blushed and nodded. “Good,” her mother said. “I went shopping for groceries today. I also got you some more supplies.” “Shouldn’t we wait to see what the doctor says?” she asked and took a bite of her pizza. Did her mother plan on her being in diapers forever? “I would have, but the top of you Depends sticks out the back of your shorts. I got you some pull-up style protection. It should be easier to manage during the day.” She quickly slapped her hand above the top back of her shorts and felt plastic. She could feel her skin heat up with embarrassment. If she had gone to school dressed as she was, then she might have been really humiliated. She imagined the cries of “Diaper baby, diaper baby,” of the other students and almost shivered at the thought. “I’ll change into one and test it out,” she said. “Finish your dinner first,” her mother said. Bridget sat down and fidgeted until she had eaten. As soon as the meal was over, she grabbed what was obviously incontinence products from one of the grocery bags her mother had brought home and took it upstairs. She peeled the bag open and pulled out one of the pull-ups. It looked like a thick pair of granny panties. She sighed and pulled off her diaper and pulled on her new disposable underpants. They were thick and itchy, but at least they didn’t peek out of the top or legs of her shorts. She checked it sitting and standing. She even bent over at the waist in front of her mirror. That showed the diaper from the leg holes in her shorts, so she decided not to do that. Satisfied, she decided to go to the mall. The little diary said it was Lia’s birthday on Monday. Bridget knew she had to get her something. Lia was excited about going to University of Idaho next fall, so she thought she would get her something with the Vandals mascot on it. She would like that. She walked down stairs. “Mother, I finished my homework. Will you please take me to the mall?” Her mother sat on the couch with a laptop on her lap and a pen in her mouth. She typed away for a minute and before she answered her. She fished car keys out of her pocket and handed them to Bridget. “You can drive. Just do it safely and make sure you have your license with you. I only want you to drive to the mall and back. Understand?” “Yes ma’am.” She was surprised. She hadn’t realized that Angela even had a license. She checked her purse and found it. She also packed a spare pull-up and headed to out to the car. “Hurry back,” her mother called to her, “you got to reply to one of your acceptance letters. You are running out of time.” “Oh, yeah,” said Bridget. “I’ll do it when I get back.” She was surprised Angela hadn’t done that yet. Bridget hadn’t driven since that fateful day twelve years ago when she was hijacked in her tank truck. She sat in the driver’s seat, started the car, and backed out of the driveway. She breathed out with relief; she still remembered how to drive: one of those things she could never forget. The trip to the mall was short. She got out of the car and walked in to the usual pre-summer Saturday crowd. She remembered that there was a sporting goods store nearby. She walked through the mall until she got to where it was. Instead of a sporting goods store, she found Pottery Barn. She walked right by. There had to be a place to buy Lia a Vandals t-shirt in the mall. Half the people in the mall either wore Bengals or Vandals shirts. This was Idaho after all. She continued walking until she found a store called SporTees. The store was devoted mainly to Vandals and Bengals t-shirts, but it also had NFL, NHL, and baseball tees. She went to the Vandals section and looked around. There were traditional t-shirts, baby doll t-shirts, and muscle shirts. Lia was a little chubby, so she decided to get a traditional t-shirt instead of a baby doll shirt. Unfortunately, the shirt she wanted for Lia was on the top rack. She had to step on her tippy toes to reach it and even then it was hard to get a hold of. In hindsight she probably should have asked for help, but instead she stretched to reach it. She had it in her hand when she fell backward into something soft and landed on her padded butt. “Are you all right?” asked the girl she landed on. The girl got up and reached down to help Bridget. She was the girl in the Go Veg shirt from the night before. Today she wore a PETA shirt. It actually said the real slogan instead of what she was used to: “People for the Eating of Tasty Animals.” She was so surprised she wet her pull-up a bit. “I’m fine,” she said. She wanted to grab the girl by the neck and force her to tell her where the terrorist who had ran her truck into the middle school. She wanted to waterboard her, but she had no idea how to go about the practice. She knew it involved water. “They put the shirts up too high,” said the vegetarian girl. To Bridget, she looked almost sickly. Her skin had an unhealthy paler and Bridget thought she could see the outline of girl’s bones through her skin. “I want that Washington State Cougars shirt.” She pointed at a baby doll shirt on the top shelf. “I’m going to be a freshman there in the fall. I live in Seattle. My uncle came here to meet someone and took me along so I could see the Washington State University. It is so much cheaper here than at the campus store.” Bridget was dying to press for more information. She didn’t dare spook the girl. “I still have to choose. I just can’t decide yet. I got acceptance letters from places,” she said. “My best friend is going to Moscow for college. I am getting her this shirt.” She held up the shirt she had literally fallen for. “My name’s Flower,” she said. “My parents were hippies.” “Br--Angela,” she started to say Bridget, but remembered at the last minute. “Brangela is a funny name.” Her face turned red as Bridget guessed she realized she said something rude. “Not as funny as Flower.” “My name is Angela. My friends call me Brangela because my boyfriend’s name is Brandon.” She showed her a picture of Evan Fiscus. “Wow, I bet you are going to the school he goes to. I wouldn’t let him go off alone, Brangela” “Just Angela now. He left me for the easy girl at my high school.” Bridget didn’t mind slandering Evan Fiscus at all. It actually felt good. It almost felt too good. She was beginning to like Flower and that couldn’t happen. She still wanted to get revenge against the terrorist and all his friends. “Well, it was nice meeting you.” She pointed to the terrorist who had walked into the store. “My uncle is here. I got to go.” Flower turned and walked to the cash register, paid for her shirt, and left. The pee started filling up Bridget’s pull-up. She was afraid it would leak, so she tried hard to stop peeing. She felt drops of pee at the legs of her pull-up. She hung up Lia’s shirt and walked quickly out of the store to the bathroom. Tears welled up in her eyes. The diaper would have held until she got to the bathroom, she thought. The pull-up was going to leak; she knew it. She hurried in the lady’s room and grabbed a stall. She pulled down her shorts and the pull-up and let the rest of her bladder out in the toilet and cried. She pulled off her shorts completely to survey the damage. There was a tiny wet spot on the inseam of her shorts, but it was hardly anything to worry about. It wasn’t even noticeable. She put on her spare pull-up and her shorts. It wasn’t the best thing in the world, but it wouldn’t be embarrassing to walk around the mall or even return to SporTees. She bought the shirt for Lia and returned home. ### Her mother intercepted her as soon as she got home and handed her a stack of papers. “You got to confirm your acceptance with one college or another by next Friday. That means you need to mail it out Monday morning. I don’t care which school you pick.” “Alright.” Bridget spread the mess on the kitchen table and spent some time sorting it. She had scholarships to both Idaho schools and Washington State University. She also had an acceptance letter to MIT, but she wouldn’t be given scholarship money and out of state tuition there was expensive. She picked the Washington State. Not only did it have a Electronics Engineering major, but it was where the vegetarian girl Flower was going to school. Maybe she could use Flower to get to her uncle the terrorist and--she still needed to think through the and part. Bridget was a sophomore when she dropped out of college because she ran out of money. This time she would finish. She filled out the forms she needed and put them in an envelope. She wrote thank you notes to the rest of the schools and got the envelopes ready. “Did you decide, Angela,” her mother asked. “Yes,” she said. “Washington State.” “That’s a good school too. At least it’s not too far away. You can come home for Thanksgiving and Christmas.” Her mother looked disappointed that she didn’t pick something closer. Bridget realized that Angela was Mrs. Murphy’s youngest child--the baby of her family. She felt bad for Angela’s mother, but she had to leave Idaho and go to Washington to solve her problems. It would be the only way to get closure and end her wetting problem. She handed her new mother the envelopes and scooped the rest of her paperwork mess and took it up stairs. She went to bed feeling complete. Even thought she knew she would wake up dry, she put on a diaper before going to bed. The accident in the mall did not count. The pull-up hid it from everyone in view and she only had accidents during the day when she saw the terrorist. She fell asleep and began to dream. The tanker truck crashed into the school in her sleep again. The terrorist was more vivid and real than ever. She saw everything about him: his eyes, his face, his rough hands, the barrel of his gun, and she felt the heat of the fire before she woke up screaming. She was safe in her room. Light drifted in from her curtains. She felt the dry bed and smiled. She was dry, but she remembered her diaper and felt inside. She had wet the bed again. “Angela, hurry or you will be late for church,” her mother called as she knocked on Bridget’s door. “Oh yes, church,” she said. She got up, wrapped a robe around her, and took a shower. After putting on makeup and brushing her hair, she returned to her bedroom to dress. It had been a while since she had been to church. In prison, she couldn’t go to the chapel with the other prisoners. They kept the death row inmates separate. Instead, a priest would visit her each week, but it wasn’t the same. She wasn’t even Catholic. From seeing Angela’s clothes, she would have never thought the Murphy family went to church. She always remembered having to wear a dress to church. Her father had told her that only harlots wear pants to church. She never had the guts to tell her father that harlots probably didn’t go to church, but all her friends had worn dresses. She dug through the closet until she found a dress that didn’t look like an evening gown or didn’t look too casual. She finally settled on the one cotton dress she could find. After putting on a pull-up and pulling on the stockings, she pulled the dress on over her head. She looked in the mirror and twirled around. The only visible indication that she was well padded would be hidden when her mother zipped up the back of her dress. “Are you ready for church yet,” her mother asked. Bridget opened the door and turned away from her mother. “Need help zipping up,” she said, “then I am ready. When she felt the zip being pulled up she grabbed her purse and an extra pull-up and tucked her protection inside incase she needed it later. “Do you need a spare,” she asked, “or is that for just in case?” “It’s for just in case, mother.” Bridget felt herself blush as she looked at her mother. Her mother wore normal pants and a shirt. She didn’t look ready for church. “I’m surprised you are wearing that dress. I’ll have to take your picture in it and send it to grandma. She wondered why she never saw you wearing it.” “I really don’t have very many church clothes,” said Bridget. She followed her mother down stairs. Her father stood by the door. He was wearing a polo shirt and khakis. Her real father had always worn a coat and tie to church. She hadn’t been to church since the last time she was a senior in high school, so maybe things had changed. “You look nice Angela,” her father said. “The boys in your Sunday school class won’t be able to pay attention to the lesson. “Thanks, dad,” she said. “I’ll though I am sure I’m not the only girl that will dress nice.” He shrugged and they walked to the car. Once they got to the church parking lot, things got complicated. Bridget did even realize they were at a church until she saw the sign above the door that said the name of the church. She was used to a church with a steeple and stained glass windows. This looked like a normal building. They walked into the lobby and her parents walked away. “See you after Sunday school,” said her mother. Bridget looked around confused, but then saw Lia. “I’m glad to see you here,” she told her friend. “You’re dressed up,” said Lia. “Of course,” she said. She looked around and everyone seemed to be underdressed for church. Lia even wore blue jeans. “You’re acting weird again,” said Lia. “Almost like you did since Wednesday. You are acting like you never been here before.” “Let’s just go to our Sunday school class,” said Bridget. She followed Lia, but tried to make it look like she was not following her. When they got to Sunday school, the lesson was about forgiveness. She seethed with anger. She could never forgive the terrorist with the owl tattoos and those cold, gray eyes. She tried to tune out the lesson and thought of something else. Finally it ended, and she rejoined her family in the auditorium. There was none of the songs or piano music she was used to at church. The music was all done with guitars and there was a quartet instead of a choir. Instead of songbooks, the words to the songs were beamed onto a big PowerPoint screen. When the preacher got behind the pulpit to give a sermon, he wasn’t even wearing a tie. Bridget spent the entire sermon looking around, so she never did remember what the sermon was about in the first place, although the outline of the sermon was also beamed to the screen. After church, everyone walked to their cars and traffic backed up around the parking lot. Bridget was ready for the bathroom, but she knew she could wait until she got home. She also looked forward to the smell of roast beef in the oven that would greet her when she got home, but instead of going home, her father parked the car in front of a restaurant. She didn’t recall her new mom putting a roast into the oven after all. Bridget waited until they had sat down and ordered before excusing herself to use the restroom. Her pull-up was dry so far, but she didn’t plan on peeing in it on purpose. She used the toilet like normal. She returned to the table and started to eat her food. “So, Angela,” said her father, “your mother tells me you picked a college.” “Yes, I did: Washington State,” she answered. “It was one of two schools that offered me a scholarship.” “Better not tell Lia,” said her mother. “I think she planned on having you as her roommate at University of Idaho.” “She’ll have to say something,” her father said, “I heard Lia saying the two of you would be looking for an awesome apartment near campus.” “She never mentioned that to me,” said Bridget. “I just have to go to Washington State. I’ll have to find an apartment there, I guess.” “Freshmen at Washington State are required to live in the dorms,” her father said, “at least when I went there.” Bridget’s smile faded. The dorms. That would mean sharing a room and having to hide her bedwetting from a roommate. “It’s too late to change.” “It’s not that bad,” said her father. “I met some friends I still hang out with in the dorms in college.” “Are you worried about your nighttime problem?” asked her mother. “Mother!” She couldn’t believe her mother had told her father. “What problem?” he asked. He was probably just trying to find out to protect his daughter, but Bridget didn’t want him to know too. “She’s just having stress about getting ready to graduate,” said her mother. “I just have been washing the sheets a bit more.” She saw her father redden a bit. “Oh,” he said. “So what do you think of the Cougars?” He obviously tried to change the subject. “Sounds like fun. I heard if University of Idaho loses to the Cougars they have to walk all the way back to Idaho from Washington.” “Watch out,” said her mother. “I recall seeing Washington State people walking back to their campus a few times. University of Idaho sometimes wins.” “One of the problems of a mixed marriage,” said her father. “My parents warned me about dating across school rivalries.” He put his arm around Bridget’s mother. The whole scene embarrassed her. Her real mother died when Bridget was still young, so she never remembered her father and mother flirting with one another. She just sat and ate her meal while her parents ignored her. After lunch they drove home. Bridget changed into comfortable jeans and a T-shirt and spent the rest of the afternoon and evening working on her Spanish. It was hard reading through the entire Spanish book and her notes and remembering enough. She also looked over the conversation Lia and she had practiced until she could do it with her eyes closed. She still had no idea what she was saying, but at least the words were right. She was about to put everything away in her bag and enjoy the rest of the evening when her cell phone rang. She flipped it open. “Hello?” “It’s Lia,” said Lia, “You ready for our Spanish conversation?” Bridget said her first line from memory. “Yes, I’m ready.” “Well we got to plan for college,” she said. “I’m going to find a cute yet cool apartment in Moscow. It will be cool living right near campus and...” She went on and on. “Moscow, Idaho might be a bit too far for me,” said Bridget. “I hate to disappoint you, but I am going to Washington State.” “What?” asked Lia. “I thought we would be going to school together.” “We’re still best friends,” said Bridget. “I don’t want to fight over the cute guys with you, so we’ll have to be on separate campuses.” “But I’ll be alone. You’ve been my only friend since kindergarten. Who else will I be able to hang out with?” Bridget sighed. “We’ll make new friends, and besides: we won’t be that far apart. Washington State and University of Idaho are a little over seven miles apart. We go farther than that to go to the mall.” “It just won’t be the same without you, Angela,” said Lia. “Well get rest for our Spanish conversation tomorrow.” She heard a click as Lia hung up. She felt a little bad about upsetting Lia, because she had grown to like her over the past few days. She was great about the accidents she had witnessed as well, but Washington State was important in her quest to get the terrorist guy and keep him from hurting other people. She took out a science fiction book she had gotten at the school library and read it. ### Tonight, she realized what was going on earlier in the nightmare. She even managed to get the semi-truck stopped before it rammed the middle school. She steered hard to the left and the truck rolled to its side. It lost a lot of momentum as the metal screeched and groaned across the ground toward the school. It stopped right in front of the entrance to the school. She had tumbled to the driver’s side window, her arm pinned between the ground and the overturned truck. The terrorist had fallen on top of her. The fuel tanks had rupture and she could smell fuel, but at least the students were safe. She felt the ground where her arm was pinned. It was wet from the spilt fuel. She tried to get up, but her arm was pinned. The terrorist was still masked, but she could do something about that. She grabbed at the mask with her free hand and tried to expose the terrorist. He only laughed and reached into his jacket. Whatever he touched made a beeping sound. “Beep, beep, beep.” She grabbed at his hands, but he shook her off of him, but she revealed what he had exposed. A ticking time bomb strapped to his chest said, “0:02” seconds, then 0:01 second, then she woke up screaming. When Bridget sat up she realized three things: first, she slept in her clothes, she saturated her pull-up, and she wet her jeans and her bed.” Her hand brushed something hard. It was the book she had been reading the night before. She had fallen asleep reading. At least the book didn’t get wet or pee stained. She hoped the rest of her day would be much better. Monday started with wet sheets and wet clothes. Bridget had fallen asleep before putting on her diaper. The pull-up she had been wearing was saturated and besides, it was not made for use when lying down. Bridget got up and stripped her bed before doing her morning shower. In the shower, as the pee was scrubbed from her body, Bridget felt better. She had the University of Idaho t-shirt to give Lia for her birthday. She hoped it wouldn’t lead to an argument about her choice of school. She got dressed and made sure she had a clean pull-up on and some spares packed. She did not relish another public accident. She wore jeans and a T-shirt that said “Knights Who Formally Said Ni” on it. On the back was a picture of a shrubbery. “How did you sleep?” asked her mother when she greeted her for breakfast. Bridget looked at her father. She did want to talk about her bedwetting with her father present even if he already knew. “Um, good.” “Well that’s good,” said her father. He picked up his briefcase and guitar and started toward the door. “I got band, so I’ll be late getting home tonight.” He walked out leaving Bridget alone with her mother. “So, do I still need to make you an appointment?” asked her mother. “You probably should,” Bridget answered. “I wet last night and I only had a pull-up on. I need my sheets washed again.” “Angela.” Her mother looked at her with a stern look. “Am I going to have to put your Depends on you for bed?” “No, I can handle it. I just fell asleep before I meant to. I still had my jeans on.” She did not want her mother to change her. She’d gotten used to doing for herself. Her mother put a plate of sausages and eggs in front of her. “Eat your breakfast. I will make an appointment for you to visit the doctor’s tomorrow. “Thanks,” said Bridget. She hoped the problem was medical and she could take a pill to stop peeing herself. She forked at her breakfast and ate some of the eggs and a few of the sausages. Maybe something would go right today. She looked at her watch. “Ooh, time for the bus,” she said. She got her backpack and Lia’s present and ran out the door. ### Bridget climbed onto the bus and looked for Lia. As she walked down the aisle to claim her usual spot behind her, Lia didn’t pick up her bag off the seat to let Bridget sit down. “Still mad at me about my college pick?” she asked. Lia nodded. “I got you a gift for your birthday.” She held up the gift bag with the Vandals t-shirt. Lia moved her bag so Bridget could sit down. She opened the package and pulled out her gift. “Oh, a Vandals t-shirt. Thank you.” She folded up the shirt and put in her backpack. “I’m sorry I was mad at you. Still, why did you choose Washington State over University of Idaho?” Bridget looked at Lia. “It’s complicated.” What was she supposed to tell her: that she possessed her best friend and was actually Bridget Addison? That would get her nowhere. If Lia repeated that to someone else it might get her locked up in a mental hospital. “Tell me,” Lia said. “I don’t know,” Bridget said. She stalled a bit. “I guess it is just where I feel I belong. Besides, most everyone else in our class is going to Idaho State or University of Idaho. I don’t really want my toilet problems to follow me to college.” Lia looked down. “Oh, I never thought of that.” The bus pulled up to the school and Bridget and Lia got out and walked to Physics class. The class assignment was to build a circuit by copying the schematic from the whiteboard. She couldn’t believe they actually had to build a real circuit on a breadboard and everything. It took the entire class period to finish it and then have it checked by the Ben Stein lookalike teacher. Finally class ended and they went to pre-calculus. “Ready for the test?” asked Lia. “I think so.” Bridget sat down and waited while the teacher passed out tests. Bridget looked it over. She was glad she had brushed up on her Calculus homework the past couple of days. She sat down and began answering the questions. By the time the test was over, she really had to pee. She turned in her test and asked the teacher, “May I run to the restroom.” He nodded and Bridget left the classroom to go pee. She had to go so bad, she didn’t know what she would have done if he refused. No, she knew what she would have done. She would have been changing a wet pull-up in the busy bathroom between classes: that is if it didn’t leak. Once in the bathroom, she pulled down her pants and pull-up and peed just as she heard the door open and shut. Someone else was in there with her. She was glad once again that her mother got her pull-ups instead of her plan to wear diapers all day. She knew the diapers would have been crinkling as she changed them. At least the pull-ups were relatively silent. When she finished and left the stall, she ran right into Julia Grass. “Watch it, Miss Pee-pee Pants.” Julia set her purse on the bathroom sink. “Any luck finding a date for prom?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “I didn’t think you did. No one wants a prom date that leaves a trail.” “Shut up and leave me alone, Julia,” said Bridget. “I was humiliated enough the first time, and you got my ex-boyfriend already. What more do you want? To make me feel horrible about myself? Well you got your wish.” Bridget turned and walked out of the bathroom back to class. English was boring as usual, but as promised Mrs. Miller picked up the papers at the beginning of class. She spent the rest of the class period passing out copies of the last book they had to read before the semester ended: the Scarlet Letter. Bridget flipped through it while the Mrs. Miller droned on about Nathanial Hawthorne for the rest of the class period. “Was it just me or was Grosstree especially boring today?” asked Lia. “Especially boring,” said David Krouse, one of their classmates. “I mean, who cares about a bunch of Puritans.” “I always liked that story,” Bridget admitted. “You would,” said Lia. She turned to David. “You should see her bedroom. It is filled with trashy romance novels. That is all she reads.” “I read other things,” said Bridget. “Name the last book you read and you can’t count the 1984 or Brave New World,” said Lia. “Fire Upon the Deep,” said Bridget and stuck out her tongue. “Really,” said Lia. She looked shocked because she never expected Bridget to know the name of a science fiction book, much less read one. She forgot about that problem as she saw David walking away. She pulled him back by his backpack. “Ask her,” she hissed at him. David suddenly looked uncomfortable. “Um,” he said. “Don’t take this the wrong way. I’m not going to ask Angela to the prom. Everyone will make fun of me.” “You’re a jerk, David,” said Lia. “Go away.” “It’s alright, David,” said Bridget. “Don’t worry about it.” She turned to Lia. “Thank you anyway. But don’t worry about prom.” Bridget had been to her own prom. It was at a hotel ballroom. Here at the school Angela attended, the prom was going to be in the school gym. That really didn’t excite her much, but she didn’t care. “It was still jerky to say that.” “You put him on the spot, Lia,” Bridget answered. “I’m not exactly prime prom material. Who wants a prom date that leaves a trail?” “Aren’t you wearing one of your...?” “Yes, but I’m not advertising it and that won’t get me a prom date either. Let’s just eat lunch.” Lunch was better than usually. Today it was Frito Pie again. Bridget sat down with her tray and enjoyed her meal. Maybe today was looking up. She hoped Spanish would go well. It should. She and Lia had practiced it enough. “Let’s go over our conversation one more time, Angela,” suggested Lia. Bridget nodded in agreement. “¿usted habla español?” “Si” answered Lia. They ran through their conversation one last time before the bell rang. Computer class was non-eventful. They were just giving their next assignments and told to start them on the computers. Bridget didn’t even get a quarter of the way done. She supposed she would do it at home that evening. She had the Spanish conversation on her mind. She worried that the teacher might ask her some questions in Spanish that she hadn’t rehearsed. She looked over at Lia. She was typing away oblivious. Bridget envied her calm. Finally, the bell rang. Lia touched her shoulder and smiled. “It’s okay,” she said. “You practiced this.” They walked out of the hall to class. In the hall, Julia Grass bumped into them. “So, Accident Girl,” Julia sneered, “I heard you had to scrape the bottom of the barrel and ask David Krouse to prom.” “David’s not the bottom of the barrel,” said Lia. “He is pretty smart too.” “Yeah, he was smart enough to reject Pee-girl,” said Julia. “Stop it,” said Bridget. She grabbed Lia’s arm. “Let’s go.” When Julia was out of sight Lia said, “You should have slapped her. She is such a ho.” “Yeah, and then I might have knocked loose her brain cell and then gotten in trouble.” Bridget smiled. “Besides Julia is going to have to go to community college because they won’t take her in a real college.” “You’re right, I guess.” They walked in the Spanish classroom and waited. As soon as class started the Spanish teacher said something totally incomprehensible to Bridget and Lia. Bridget had to look around before she realized Lia had gone up to the front of the classroom. She got up and stood beside her. She looked at all the students in the classroom just staring at her and froze. She would never get this conversation done. She would fail Spanish and have to stay at this school forever. She suddenly had to go to the bathroom bad. She looked at Lia. Lia just mouthed the words, “You’ll do fine. Start.” Bridget knew this. They rehearsed so many times. Bridget let a few nervous dribbles out and was grateful for the pull-up. She said her first line in Spanish. She hated speaking in front of the class. Still she waited and then Lia gave her line. Bridget did her next line. She was slow at first and stuttered through her recitation. She kept her eyes off the class and on Lia and the next thing she knew she was reading through the conversation like a champ. Before she knew it they were done. “Adios,” said Lia. “Adios,” repeated Bridget. Lia smiled at the Senorita Faust. Bridget stood nervously twisting her hair around a finger. She looked pleadingly at the teacher and hoped she would say they could sit down.” Instead Senorita Faust said something in Spanish and handed Lia a piece of paper. Finally Lia went to her seat and Bridget sat in the seat next to her. She didn’t even look at Lia. She knew they did awfully and that the teacher probably marked her way down for stumbling over, “Hablo español bien.” Bridget looked down at her crotch and felt the bottoms of her jeans to make sure she was dry. She felt damp and couldn’t wait until class ended to check the damage. She felt no wetness on her clothes; the only damage must be safely concealed in her pull-up. She looked as the next couple groups gave their conversations seemingly perfect, although a couple of times Senorita Faust rolled her eyes or shook her head before writing something down on a paper. When the conversation finished she gave the paper to one of the group members. They took their seat and the next group came up. Three groups, including Lia and herself, gave their conversations before the bell rang. Bridget fled toward the bathroom. She still had to pee, even though she leaked a bit. She entered a stall and sat down and went. As she peed she checked the wetness of the pull-up. The crotch was a bit yellowed, but it wasn’t soaked like the one she wet the bed in. If she hadn’t been wearing it there would have been a largish wet spot on her pants, but it wasn’t so bad that she would have been standing in a puddle. There were students in the other stalls and making noises in the bathroom. There was no way she could carry a wet pull-up to the trash. She pulled the damp thing back up and pulled up her jeans. It wasn’t that wet, but since she had pulled it down, the peed had cooled and was cold and irritating to her skin. She left the bathroom and went to study hall. At least here, she could work on homework. She needed to do something and studying would have to do. She worked on Physics and read some of the Scarlett Letter. She wondered what letter she would have to wear if she was treated like Hester Prynne. She didn’t know if it would be a yellow letter P for having accidents or a green letter T for Terrorist since she had been blamed when she couldn’t stop the terrorist from crashing her truck into the school. Probably the T. She felt guilty about that. The P was not something to be guilty about. They were caused by the first. She would have to bring the owl-tattooed terrorist to justice to make her guilt go away: that and the accidents. They should go away too when she made the terrorist pay. After school she beat Lia to the bus. She still wore the damp pull-up, but the coast wasn’t clear to change it in the bathroom. As embarrassed as she was by her daytime accidents, she would be more embarrassed if someone, especial Julia Grass, discovered her pull-ups. “Hi,” said Lia as she sat beside her. “Sorry about the conversation,” said Bridget, “I was really nervous.” “What?” said Lia, “We got an A. We got the five bonus points for going first. You already got an A in almost everything in Spanish.” “I’m still worried about the final,” Bridget admitted. “Seniors are exempt from finals in classes where they have an A,” said Lia. “I probably only have to take my Calculus and Physics final. You would have to really mess up to need to take a final in any class. Maybe in English though. Grosstree hates you.” At least she didn’t have to worry about finals. That only left a few more weeks to worry about. The bus stopped at her house before she knew it. “Get my homework assignments for me tomorrow. I will miss morning classes.” She got off the bus and went home. “So how was your day?” ask her mother. “Did you stay dry okay?” “Mother,” Bridget said. “Well if you’re not you need to tell the doctor tomorrow.” “No, I’m dry.” The wetness in her pull-up was just from being nervous. “I’m going upstairs to do homework,” she said. Upstairs she changed clothes and put on a new pull-up. She only had homework in Physics and English tonight and English was just a reading assignment. She worked on the last two questions in Physics and read more of the Scarlett Letter. She only came down for dinner. After dinner, this time she made sure to shower and put on a full diaper before going to sleep. She certainly did not want a repeat of the night before. The terrorist and the truck was back. This time the terrorist had a green T at his collar. She looked down at her body. Her pajama top was unbuttoned and at her breast was a greenish T-shaped mark on her chest like a festering wound. She screamed and woke up. She felt her diaper. She was wet again. She turned on the light and opened her pajama top: no mark on her chest. It was still early: only one o’clock. Bridget tried to go back to sleep. How could she enjoy reading ever again if she incorporated everything she read into her dreams. That would not work and it would have to stop. She tried to think of happier times. Maybe that is what it would take to finally fall asleep. “Angela, it’s time to wake up.” Bridget stirred and looked toward her bedroom door where her mother was standing. “I’m up,” she said. She looked at her clock. It was already 9:30. She normal had to catch the school bus at eight. “I let you sleep in. Your doctor’s appointment isn’t until eleven, but you should probably get up now.” Bridget got out of bed and rushed to the bathroom for her shower. She undressed and looked in the mirror. Her diaper was soaked almost to the point of leaking. The bedwetting needed to stop. Hopefully the doctor would have something to say about it. She hoped it was something that wasn’t embarrassing. The daytime problems only happened when she was near the terrorist. She would still need her pull-ups when she was actively hunting him. She went to the mirror and started to dress. Her pull-up would be obvious if the doctor had her undressed. She was tempted to go to her room and get some panties, but maybe the pull-ups would help the doctor know how serious her bladder problems were. Jeans and a cute t-shirt would be enough for clothes; the doctor probably wouldn’t care what she wore. She emerged from the bathroom and went to her room for her schoolbag. She would need it when her mother dropped her off at school after her appointment. Even though Bridget thought the appointment should help her she dreaded it. At least it would be a doctor and not someone good looking. Even so, she looked in the mirror and attempted to make her hair look nice. She also added make-up. “Angela, are you almost ready?” asked her mother. Bridget exited her room. “I’m ready.” “Good, let’s go,” said her mother. They went downstairs and got into the maroon Taurus. The last time she had ridden in this car, at least in the passenger seat, she had been a poopy mess. This time she was clean and she would remain clean because of her pull-up. At least she hoped. During the ride to the doctor’s office her mother constantly talked about her control issues. “Now no matter what the doctor says, we’ll still love you,” her mother said. “You’ve been very responsible about not fighting me about wearing protection.” “Well I still don’t want to be known as the girl who pees herself with or without the diapers,” said Bridget. “I want my normal bedtime routine back.” “Well, the doctor will find out what is wrong and treat you,” said her mother. Before Bridget knew it, they had pulled into the doctor’s office. Bridget got out of the car and looked around nervously. Her mother held the door to the doctor’s office open for her and they went in. The waiting room had rows of chairs. There were about four of five patients in the room. Two were children with their mothers. Two others were old ladies and then there was a man of about thirty. Bridget hoped they didn’t know why she was here. She didn’t know why they were there so it was reasonable to expect that they didn’t know why she was there. She sat in her chair and read the Scarlet Letter some more while she was waiting while her mother filled out the paperwork. She was really wondering if Chillingworth was going to do something bad to the preacher, but then she heard her name being called. “Angela Murphy.” The man was older and he was wearing scrubs. He had gray hair and he just looked old. Bridget felt comfortable now. Sure it would be embarrassing to tell him about the wetting, but at least he wasn’t a cute guy. “Dr. Ulman,” she said as she followed him down the hall. “Actually, I’m Dr. Vance. Dr. Ulman will be with you later. Go into this room.” He pointed to an examination room. Bridget went inside and sat on the examination table. The paper on the table crinkled as she scooted up on it. Dr Vance put her folder in the pocket on the door and shut it leaving her in privacy. Bridget sat bored. She looked around at all the posters on the wall. There were pictures of the heart, the lungs, and many of the other organs. There was also a picture of a man on a sailboat. Bridget didn’t think it fit in with the other images, but she shrugged. She thought the man looked kind of cute. The door opened and a man in a white lab coat entered. He was the cute man on the sailboat. He wore a stethoscope around his neck and he was smiling. “Hi. What seems to be the problem?” “Problem?” asked Bridget. “What problem? I’m just here for a checkup.” There was no way she could tell this guy that she couldn’t keep her bed dry and that she wet her pants sometimes. The doctor looked at her chart. “It says here you are having some control issues. Is that correct?” Bridget felt her face burn. She nodded and hung her head. “You don’t have to be embarrassed,” he said. “Lots of people have bladder control problems sometime in their lives. If you don’t tell your doctor, then I can’t help you.” “I’m sorry,” she said. If he hadn’t been so cute, she would have told him. “Your mother said it is mainly a nighttime problem, but you had a few accidents during the day.” “Yes.” “Does it burn when you pee?” “No.” “Well that doesn’t rule out a bladder infection, but I am going to run a test just to make sure.” He handed her a plastic cup and opened the door for her. He led her to a bathroom. “Just fill that up for me, please.” He shut the door leaving her alone. Bridget sat down and peed in the cup. When it was full she finished peeing in the toilet. She adjusted her clothing, washed her hands and carried the cup out to Dr. Ulman. He took the cup. Wait in the exam room while I check this for you. Bridget had no choice but to do what he said. Soon he came back. “I didn’t see any bacteria in the sample,” he said. “Are you waking up wet or waking up as you are wetting the bed.” “I wake up wet. I have a dream and then wake up wet,” she said. “Oh, the classic dream where you dream you are going to the bathroom? That is common.” He wrote something down. “Not exactly,” she said. “I have nightmares every night. Not really going-to-the-bathroom related.” “I see,” he said. “Do you know what is causing these nightmares?” “Yes,” said Bridget. No, he will ask me about it, she thought. “No, I mean. Just bad, scary stuff.” “Maybe I can refer you to a psychologist,” he said. Bridget shook her head vigorously, “No, no,” she said. “No shrinks.” A shrink would find out who she really was. Maybe they would execute her if they knew she had jumped bodies. She shivered. “It helps to talk things out. I think your problem is psychological. A psychologist could help. It’s probably just stress and he can give you ways to manage stress.” “Do you have pills you can give me to make me stop wetting the bed,” she said. “Yes, pills.” “There are pills,” he said and looked at her chart, “but you are allergic to one of the ingredients. Maybe when the summer starts you’ll see a reprieve from the bed wetting. Until then, wear protection. I still recommend you talk to a psychologist though. We’ll still run a few more tests.” It took another hour of being poked and prodded before the doctor was satisfied. Bridget walked out off the office feeling upset. She hoped the doctor could find a medical reason she was wetting the bed. He probably suspected the root of the problem when she mentioned the bad dreams. “I’m done,” she said to her mother. As Dr. Ulman and her mother talked for a little while, Bridget felt her face burn with embarrassment. When her mother said the words bed wetting or accidents, she felt like everyone in the waiting room was staring at her. It was probably just her imagination, but it sure felt like it. Finally they finished and Bridget rushed her mother to the car. “That was certainly embarrassing,” said Bridget. “Well, at least you know what you need to do,” said her mother. “Dr. Ulman gave me the name of a psychologist. I can make an appointment. Do you want me to do that Angela?” “No.” Bridget remembered the psychologist she talked to after being arrested. He showed her stupid ink blots and expected her to tell them what she thought they looked like. They all looked like explosions to her, but she answered, “a pretty butterfly,” or something equally tame. At the time her attorneys were trying to get her off on an insanity plea, but she thought her only way to get the terrorist caught was to tell her story at trial. She’d been wrong. “I’m not talking to a psychologist.” “Would you rather talk to a psychologist or wear diapers to bed?” asked her mother. Bridget thought for a second. “Diapers. I know that seems silly, but I can’t talk to a psychologist. I just can’t.” “Okay, Angela,” said her mother. “Let’s just get something to eat. We’ll talk about this later.” ### They had Burger King for lunch. Bridget bought the biggest Angus burger they had. It felt good to eat real food instead of cafeteria slop. While they were eating, Bridget watched as protesters gathered outside. They had signs that read “Murder King” and “Meat is murder.” “What are those bozos up to?” asked a guy at the next table. “Oh those are those PETA crazies. They protest a different fast food restaurant every week,” he said. “I belong to the other PETA: People for the Eating of Tasty Animals.” He took a bite of his burger. As Bridget finished her burger, she scanned the protesters outside. There were just five of them. They held signs as people drove by and gave them the finger. One of the guys looked like the terrorist’s friend from the movie theater. Suddenly, she had to go the bathroom urgently. She pushed her chair back from the table and walked swiftly to the bathroom with her hand in her crotch. She took the first stall, pulled down her pants and peed. “That was close.” She felt the crotch of her pull-up. Thankfully it was still dry. She ate the rest of her food without saying anything. When she took the last bite, she said. “Let’s go. Please.” Her mother followed her to the car and they got in. “Did you have an accident?” “No, I made it.” She pointed toward where the protesters were. “Let’s avoid those guys,” she said. They knew the terrorist too. She didn’t share her thoughts with her mother. Even if she could somehow get past the body snatching aspect of her weird week she had been in Angela’s body, surely people would think she was schizophrenic if she was so paranoid she had wetting accidents when she spotted the terrorist or his compatriots. “I’ll drop you back at school. You should be able to get there in time for Spanish class.” “Sounds good,” said Bridget. Burger King and the PETA protesters were behind her and now out of her mind by the time her mother dropped her off at school. She got out of the car and went straight to Spanish class. She was still a little early, but most of her other classmates were there. David Krouse was laughing and joking with his friends. Julia Grass and Evan Fiscus were attached at the hip as usual. However, she couldn’t find Lia anywhere. She turned to David. “Where’s Lia?” she asked. He stopped laughing and his smile faded. “Um, she...” “She was supposed to tell me what I missed when I was at my doctor’s appointment.” Julia came over. “Yeah, I got your stuff.” She handed me the assignments that Lia had written down for me. “Her mother came and pulled her out of class this morning. Her father was hurt really bad at work.” “He’s a lumberjack,” said David. “Some idiot environmentalist spiked a bunch of trees and when he cut one of them down, it broke his chainsaw.” “No,” said Bridget. She put her bag down on her desk and sat down before her knees weakened and she fell down. This was her fault. The terrorist or one of his friends had to have done this because Bridget couldn’t convince anyone the terrorist was still at large. She had a whole week to warn everyone, but she had said nothing. “Will he be all right?” “They say it doesn’t look good,” said Evan. “He’s probably not going to make it. That’s why Lia’s mother pulled her out of school.” The bell rang and Senorita Faust called the class to order. “I know we’re all worried about Lia’s father, but we got conversations to get through. I’ll get a card for Lia that we all can sign tomorrow.” Bridget was glad Lia and her had already done their conversation. Lia would have been a mess and Bridget had barely known what she was doing. Bridget could even concentrate on listening to the other conversations. She just dreamed of all the things she could do to that evil, evil terrorist. She had been idle far too long. Study hall was no different. She could barely concentrate to do her homework but she managed to get through pre-calculus and physics. Nothing was left but reading on the Scarlet Letter, and Bridget just wasn’t up to it. She frowned and looked at the clock. There were five more minutes. She packed her bags and the study hall teacher glared at her. Mrs. Simkins was one of those teachers that hated when students packed their bags before the final bell rung. Finally, class ended and Bridget left to go home. As she was switching books around in her locker, the kid with the locker next to her said, “Hurry up, accident girl.” “Give it a rest for a few days, please,” said Julia Grass. “She’s Lia’s best friend. You heard what happened to Lia’s dad.” “Thanks,” said Bridget. “No problem,” said Julia. “When Lia comes back, though, it is back to normal.” “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” said Bridget. She hurried to catch her bus. When she got on the bus, it felt like a different place. No one yelled, “Pee girl,” as she boarded and people told her to wish Lia’s father to get well. It was funny riding the bus alone without Lia beside her like she did all that week. ### After supper, Bridget called Lia. “Hi. It’s Angela.” All she heard on the phone was sobs. “You want me to come over? Where are you?” The phone just hung up. Lia was really upset and probably didn’t want to talk to anyone. She would call Bridget back when she wanted to talk. A minute later Bridget’s phone rang out the tone that said she received a text message. “Can’t talk. Yes. Come over. I am at home.” Bridget went down stairs. “Mother, can I use the car. I need to go over to Lia’s” “Are you sure she is home and she wants you over?” “Yeah, she texted.” “Okay.” She handed Bridget the keys. Bridget wasted no time getting to Lia’s place. When she got there, there were cars and dirt-caked pick-up trucks parked up and down the street. She had to park around the block. Bridget walked to the door and rung the doorbell. Lia’s mother answered. She wore black and she looked much older than when Bridget had seen her earlier in the week. “I’m here to see Lia,” she said. “She’s in her room.” She led Bridget through a living room full of lumberjacks and their wives. Finally she got to Lia’s room and went inside. Lia knelt at her bed and she was still sobbing. She turned around and Bridget could see her red and puffy eyes. “Do you want Angela here with you, Lia?” asked Lia’s mother. Lia nodded. Bridget walked over and sat beside her friend and put an arm around her. “I’m here Lia. We’re best friends.” “Angela, my daddy died,” said Lia through sobs. She buried face into Bridget’s shoulder and wailed. Bridget swore in her heart that she would make the terrorist pay for this. If the terrorist was not responsible for spiking the trees that killed Lia’s dad, he probably knew them and she would make both killers regret they ever heard the name Bridget Addison. She was out for blood. She squeezed Lia gently in her arms and patted her softly on her back as she cried. It was late Saturday morning and tonight was the day of the senior prom. Bridget sat with Lia in her room trying to cheer her up. “Daddy looked forward to seeing me off on my prom date. I should call James and tell him I’m not going,” said Lia. “It won’t be right.” “You’re going and that is final,” said Bridget. She put her arm around Lia. “Besides, your dad would want you to go to prom.” “I suppose,” said Lia, “but you have to come to too.” “I don’t have a date,” said Bridget. No had wanted to go with her to prom because of the very public accident she had. Since Lia’s father had died only a few days before, the other students stopped teasing Bridget since she was Lia’s best friend, but Evan Fiscus was still taking Julia Grass instead of her. “That’s just an excuse,” said Lia. “It’s not. The prom committee made a rule that everyone has to have a date.” Bridget didn’t really want to go. Still it would pass the time before she could find Flower and have her lead her to the terrorist. Still that would not happen until then end of August. It was still the middle of May. There was one more week of regular classes and then finals week. School was almost over. “I’ll get you a date then.” Lia ran out of her room and into her bathroom and slammed the door. Bridget spent the time laying out Lia’s dress and other accessories on her bed. She had been trying since Evan left her to set Bridget up with a date, but even David Krouse refused. Lia had picked out a nice dress. It was not as dowdy as she expected a dress for Lia to be, but it also would not look like a satin feed sack strapped around her like a towel. She even had a little matching purse. “Okay,” said Lia, as she came out of the bathroom, “I got you a date.” “With whom,” she asked. “If it’s anyone from school with a bucket of pig’s blood, they’ll rue the day they messed with me.” “Pig’s blood?” asked Lia, “You suddenly got a whole lot of knowledge about geeky literature Miss Romance Junkie.” Bridget worried that she gave herself away again. Quickly she covered: “Well I thought Carrie was a romantic comedy. It didn’t end how I thought it would end.” “Well, anyway my dad’s boss said he would do anything for me. To make a long story short, his son just got home from college and he is taking you to prom.” “No,” said Bridget. “I don’t have a dress; I don’t have my hair done; and I don’t have anything to wear. Prom is tonight. Besides, I am worried about embarrassing myself.” “Yeah, we better get to the mall,” said Lia. She grabbed Bridget’s hand and dragged her out to the car. ### “I told you it’s too late to get a dress.” The clothes racks in the prom dress sections were sparse. The sales girl was busy consolidating the remaining dresses to a single rack. “I need a prom dress,” Bridget told the sales girl. “What size are you?” “Um, three, I think.” “I think that dress and that dress are both threes.” She pointed out a hideous green and yellow dress and a very lovely pink dress. “I’ll try on the pink one,” said Bridget as Lia lifted it up by its hanger. Lia twirled it around and smiled. “I told you we’d find a dress for you.” She looked at the dress and frowned. She held the dress to the sales girl. “This one has a big blue stain.” Sure enough, a blotchy ink spot covered the bottom of the dress. “Oh crap, the ink tag must have broken.” The sales girl took the dress and took it to the back room. “Now what do we do?” asked Bridget. She pointed at the ugly green and yellow dress. “You can get that one.” “Absolutely not,” said Bridget. “I am not wearing that ugly dress no matter what.” Lia pulled out her cell phone. “I guess I better call James and cancel.” She grabbed the phone away from Lia. “Fine, I’ll wear the dress.” She picked the dress up by its hanger and carried it into the dressing room. As she undressed, she called out to Lia. “You owe me for this.” She kicked off her shirt and pants and pulled on the dress. When she slithered in to the silky dress and looked in the mirror. She stuck out her tongue at her reflection in the mirror. “You had to fit perfectly, didn’t you, ugly dress?” She heard rattling at the door. “Do you have it on yet? Does it fit?” With reluctance, she opened the door and spun around for Lia. The sales girl got a weird look on her face when she glanced at them and Lia spun her back. “Your diaper is showing.” Lia walked around her and zipped up the dress. Bridget felt her cheeks pinken. “It’s not a diaper; it’s a pull-up,” she hissed. “Well, it’s covered now,” said her friend. “Fine,” said Bridget. “Unzip me so I can get dressed and go home.” “Does the dress fit?” “Yes, now unzip me,” said Bridget. As soon as Lia unzipped the dress, Bridget shut herself in the dressing room and took off the cursed garment. She pulled on her jeans and T-shirt and hung up her ugly dress. “I’ll take this one,” said Bridget to the sales girl. The sales girl blushed and didn’t look at Bridget during the entire time she rung the sale. Bridget could hardly wait to get away. When the transaction was finished, Bridget took her new dress and walked out of the store without waiting for Lia. When Lia caught up, she said, “If I have anymore incidents to send to Seventeen’s Tragic Proms, I Angela Murphy will hold you personally responsible.” Lia just laughed. “Don’t be so traumatic, Angela.” ### Bridget looked at her nails and sighed. The polish matched her dress, but it was the ugliest shade of green and yellow she had ever seen. “I look like a freaking dandelion,” she said. “And I really thank you for doing this for me, especially since your outfit didn’t work out,” said Lia. Her gorgeous red dress made her look almost heavenly. Bridget tried not to be too angry since she knew Lia had never got to be the hot friend with Angela around. Going to prom dressed in the outfit she was wearing would only be a little embarrassing. Every dress at her previous high school’s prom had to have been as hilarious as looking at her mother’s prom pictures had been to her. Who knew? Maybe the garish dress she was force to wear would look styling when she went back to look at it in the future while everyone else would look foolish. At least her hair was coiffed professionally. Lia looked beautiful and she hoped prom would be perfect for her. That was the only reason she had gone along with being dressed like a lawn pest. “Do I look okay,” asked Lia. “You look lovely,” Bridget said. “You look really good too,” said Lia, “and don’t worry your pull-up isn’t showing since you are zipped up.” “No mention of that when our dates get here.” As soon as the words left her mouth, the doorbell rang. “Ooh, someone’s here,” said Lia and walked to the door. She opened it and a man stood at the door. He dressed sharp, his brown hair was short and trim, and he was broad at the shoulder. He held a wrist corsage in his hand and he smiled. His tuxedo might have been a little tight and he had a light line that scarred his tanned face, but he was almost like a god. “I hope you are not James,” said Bridget. “I’m Derek Stevens,” he said. “You must be Angela.” “Of course it’s Derek,” said Lia. “You know who James is.” “I got you a corsage.” He held up a box. “I didn’t know what color dress you would wear, so I got red.” He looked at her dress and just shook his head. Bridget held out her hand as Derek slipped the corsage on her wrist. “Thank you and sorry about the dress. I bought it today. There is a reason why most girls don’t buy prom dresses at the last minute.” “I didn’t mean to imply--,“ he started. “I just hope you don’t mind how horrible I look,” Bridget said. “Stop gabbing and stand over there for pictures,” said Lia. She had her digital camera out and took pictures of the two of them. “Now hold each other tight.” Bridget felt chills go through her as she stared up at Derek Steven’s eyes as he held her for the picture. It was all she could do to contain her disappointment when he let go of her when the picture was taken. She felt glad for the protection of her pull-up as she was sure she felt slightly damp with the excitement of the embrace. You can’t be acting like a horny little school girl, she thought. The doorbell rang again. “That must be James,” said Lia and opened the door. Bridget recognized him from school. He wore glasses and was in their physics and pre-calculus class. She supposed she recalled Lia speaking to him at some point, but she didn’t think they were dating. “Your limo awaits, my dear,” he said to Lia and held out his hand for her to take it. “Oh cool, you rented a limo!” said Lia. “Not exactly,” said James. He led them out to a big black Ford Crown Victoria. “My dad got it for me at auction. They had about four or five they auctioned off. They used to be owned by the Feds.” He opened the door to let Bridget and Derek into the back seat and then opened the front door to let Lia in the front. “It looks like the inside of a cop car,” said Derek. He pointed to the metal divider between the front and back seat. “Sorry, I just got it today,” said James. “That can come off I think.” Bridget put her finger on some holes near the side window. “At least they took the bars off the back window,” she said. “Unto prom,” said Lia as the car began to move forward. “Yeah, unto prom,” said Bridget. She promised herself she would have a good time no matter what. ### James parked the car at the school and walked around to open the door for Lia. Bridget looked over at Derek. “Aren’t you going to go around and open the door for me?” He pulled on the door handle. “It won’t open.” Bridget tried to open her door and it was stuck as well. She tapped on the glass. James opened the door for Lia fine, and opened it for Derek. He flipped a switch on the inside of the door. “Oops, it has cop car doors.” At least they wouldn’t be stuck in the back seat of the car on prom night. The four of them walked into the gym together. The prom committee had decorated the place with crepe paper streamers and a flower-covered arch at the entrance to the gym. The photographer was set up in front of the arch, so there was a bit of a bottleneck getting into the gym. Confetti covered tables were placed beneath the basketball hoops and the center of the gym was the dance floor. Bridget blushed when she looked up on the stage and saw that one of the band members from the live rock band waved at her. “Is that your father’s band?” asked James. It was her father’s band. A girl’s father at prom was the dream of every high school kid, wasn’t it? Only if that dream was a nightmare. “I’m love prom so much,” said Bridget to Lia using her sarcastic voice. “Everything is working out perfectly.” “I wouldn’t mind having my father at prom, Angela,” Lia whispered. Bridget decided to change the subject before Lia’s makeup ran. “Let’s grab a spot at one of the table and sit down.” She looked over to their dates. “James, would you and Derek get us some punch?” Lia and Bridget went and sat down at the table and watched everyone dance. “Look,” said Lia, “there is Evan Fiscus and Julia Grass.” Julia hung on Evan’s arm as they walked across the dance floor. “It looks like she had to do last minute dress shopping too.” Julia wore the exact same dress as Bridget. It looked just as hideous on her as Bridget thought it looked on herself. “Now they’re coming over,” said Bridget. She hoped she would keep her promise to be nice. “Hi, Lia,” Julia said. “I’m so sorry about your father.” Julia took Lia’s hand in both of hers. “I’m glad you could still make it to prom.” Lia looked confused about Julia’s behavior. “She’s been really nice since Tuesday,” said Bridget. “Thank you,” said Lia. “Oh, Angela,” said Julia through a big fake smile. “I’m so mad at you. You stole my dress. I searched for weeks to find a dress that was unique and made me look beautiful.” “I’m sorry,” said Bridget, “I got it last minute and it and another dress with a big ink stain were my only choices.” She took some satisfaction in saying in not so many words that it was the last dress she would even want to be seen dead in. “I wasn’t going to go to prom, but Lia wanted me to, so I am here.” Julia gave no indication that she was insulted by Bridget’s comment. “You’ll have to introduce me to your date. I didn’t know you had gotten another one.” “It’s a friend of Lia’s from outside school,” Bridget said. “My dad’s boss’s son,” said Lia. “Well I can’t wait to meet him,” said Julia. “I bet she does,” whispered Lia. The band began to play a slow dance song and Evan must have sensed things were going to get out of hand between Julia and Bridget. “Julia, let’s dance.” He dragged her off to the dance floor. “Well that wasn’t awkward at all. Thank you for coming. I know you don’t like to dance and you would have to see Evan and Julia together. Thanks for putting up with it all,” said Lia. She pointed to the guys. “At least our dates are back.” “Here are your drinks,” said James. Derek and James handed them each a glass of punch and sat at the table beside them. “So do you think Julia got the most votes for prom queen, or do you think it is Marcy Phillips?” “I’m hoping Marcy. Even though Julia was being nice the past few days, she still is a ho,” said Lia. “Which one is Julia?” asked Derek. “That girl there,” said Bridget as she pointed at Julia, “the girl in the hideous green and yellow dress.” “Pot. Kettle. Black,” said James. “I think you look rather nice in that dress,” said Derek. “Then you have as good of tastes as Julia,” said Bridget. She giggled and put an arm around Derek. “Flattery will get you everywhere.” “How about we dance?” Derek suggested when the song changed to a Latin number. “You do know Salsa, I hope?” “Of course I do,” said Bridget. She looked over to Lia who was waving her hands in the negative and mouthing, “No.” “She’s going to embarrass herself,” Lia said to James. “More than before?” Bridget barely heard them. She got on the dance floor and put her right hand on his shoulder. He took her left hand in his and they began to dance. “I’m a little rusty,” she muttered. She had last danced with a man about a year before her incarceration. In prison there was no longer anyone to dance with so she hoped she did okay. Let’s see, she thought, right foot back, left foot up and down, right foot forward, left foot forward, right foot up and down, and left foot back. She hadn’t lost her touch at all. He knew a lot of turns and he changed them randomly as they danced. She spun as he turned her and before she knew it, she was laughing and smiling as they danced. A few more songs later and she was hot and sweaty. Bridget was glad for the thin layer of baby powder between the fabric of her dress and her skin. She didn’t have to smell like an ox. The song changed to a slower rhythm and she let him lead her back and forth across the dance floor. There wasn’t as many turns to this song, but she still followed his lead. At the end of the last song Derek laid her back in a dip. The music was so sensual she thought that he was going to kiss her. She looked at his lips and parted her own, ready to let him ravage her lips, but he just stood her up again and escorted her back to their table. “When did you learn salsa, Angela?” asked Lia. “I’ve never seen you dancing to anything but hip hop.” “The last song was bachata anyway,” said Bridget. At least her relationship with Edwardo Lozano for a few months back in college taught her something: Latin dance and running from Consuela Lozano. That bastard never told her he was married. “Besides, the guy does everything. All I have to do is move my feet and follow.” She smiled. “Where is Angela Murphy and what did you do to her,” said Lia. Bridget quit smiling. She had been tormenting her just a little, but she didn’t think she gave herself away. “What do you thing I read about in all those romance novels?” asked Bridget. “I’ll tell you: hot Latin lovers.” Lia laughed. “James, aren’t you going to ask Lia to dance?” Bridget asked. “Don’t go there, Angela. I can’t do all that stuff,” said James. “When there is hip-hop or slow dancing I can do that.” The band started to play Soulja Boy and James pulled Lia onto the dance floor. “You want to dance to this?” asked Derek. “Not a chance,” said Bridget. “I like you, but I am not doing that.” She pointed at Lia and James trying to jump as if they had a Superman cape when the part of the song that went, “then Superman da oh.” “Point taken,” said Derek. He looked over at Bridget. “You know you seem a lot more grown up then I imagined when Dad said I would be taking a high school girl to prom. I didn’t expect I would be wiping noses and changing diapers, but I thought there would be a lot more, ‘OMFG, LOL,’ type talk.” Bridget felt her cheeks burn at the mention of him changing diapers, and she hoped he didn’t expect she was really wearing diapers when he saw her face turn pink. “When did you graduate?” asked Bridget. “I assumed you would be a freshman or a sophomore in college.” “I got one more semester and then I’ll graduate in December.” He smiled. “I don’t really relish another winter in Massachusetts, but it will be a light load.” “Wow, I’m really a step down for you,” she said. “Is that Massachusetts as in MIT?” “Yeah,” he said. “I’m going to be an engineer and build things. I don’t want to be a hewer of wood and a drawer of water.” He frowned. “Lately Dad’s been wanting to give up running a lumber company. Too much looking over his shoulder for crazies like the people who set that trap for Lia’s dad.” “They affect my life too. Saw some protesting outside Burger King the other day,” said Bridget. She recalled seeing the protestor with Flower and the terrorist at the movies when she saw Star Trek. “Well there is a difference between peaceful protesters and the people that leave nails in trees to maim or kill lumberjacks.” “They are the same people or at least they hang out together,” Bridget yelled. “If you think the Meat is Murder crowd is any different from those tree spiking murderers, you are wrong.” Other students were staring at her. The song had just ended so they only heard her say the last three words, but she had drawn attention to herself. She shut up. Lia and James walked back since they were playing another Latin song. “I’m sorry, I was just upset because I love Lia,” Bridget told him. “Here you were thinking I was so mature and I had an outburst like that.” “I know how you feel,” said Derek and patted her on the back like she was a child. “Arguing with Derek, Angela?” said Lia. “Shame, shame.” She ran her finger along her other index finger as the gesture for shame. “We had a little disagreement,” said Derek. “We made up.” “Prove it,” said James. “Take her back out on the dance floor.” Bridget stood up and took his hands in hers. “Yes. Prove it.” He took her out on the dance floor for a little more dancing. Bridget stumbled a few times as she thought of the terrorist’s friend at the Burger King. She decided to concentrate on dancing so she could enjoy herself and let Derek spin her until she was dizzy on the next meringue song. ### “I got to go to the bathroom,” said Lia. “Come with me.” She dragged Bridget out of the gym and out into the hall toward the bathrooms. Bridget went in a stall and pulled down her pull-up and sat down to pee. “So I think I’m going to give up my virginity to James tonight,” said Lia from the next stall.” “Did you tell James you would do this?” asked Bridget. She didn’t think they were really that close. “Not yet,” said Lia. Bridget heard her start to pee. Bridget did the same. She hadn’t needed her pull-up after all, but she was not taking chances. The only wetness in her pull-up was from sweating so much. Dancing is sweaty work, dancing in a diaper, even if it is a cloth-backed pull-up is even sweatier. It wasn’t pee, so she pulled it back up. “So do you love him?” asked Bridget. “No,” said Lia, “but it’s prom. Everyone loses their virginity at prom.” “I would wait. What if James gets you pregnant or gives you a disease? I would hold out for a college boy.” Bridget sighed at the thought of letting Derek take her to bed. “You have seen Derek, right?” “Thanks, Angela,” said Lia, “you’re pretty smart. I guess I don’t want to end up a ho like Julia Grass.” “I don’t think she is losing her virginity at prom,” said Bridget. “That ship has sailed.” “Yeah, freshman year.” ### They got back from the bathroom just in time for the class awards. The class president got up on the stage and pulled out a clipboard. “Hey everyone, this is the moment we’ve all been waiting for, when we give the results for those who done the most to be remembered in this class.” The class vice president handed him a stack of envelopes. He pulled out the first envelope. “We have a boy and a girl for each category. When I call your name come up and stand by your counterpart for the class favorites dance.” He opened the first envelope. “Prom King is Evan Fiscus.” Evan walked up, took the plaque that was handed to him and walked down to stand in the middle of the dance floor. The class president took another envelope. “Prom Queen is Marcy Phillips.” Marcy squealed like a stuck pig and took her plaque and ran down to the dance floor and threw herself in Evan Fiscus’s arms. She gave Julia Glass a dirty look. “Now our Most Likely to Succeed students: the boy is James Duane and the girl is Lia Jones. Both of them did nothing but study, and you know how successful people like that become.” Bridget clapped as Lia and James went up to collect their awards. As Lia left the stage after getting her plaque she stuck out her tongue at the valedictorian Cindy Ericson who had thought she would be Most Likely to Succeed. “Now our high school is like many others where students try to impress one another with their clothes. Why do they do that? Because they know they will be awarded with the Best Dressed award. Daniel Crawford and Jana Smit come up to accept your award.” The two student ran up to the stage. Daniel Crawford, not only had a smart tux on, but the tux had tails. He also carried a top hat and a walking stick. Jana Smith wore a Renaissance-style dress. Her honey-brown hair cascaded down her back like loosely wound golden springs. Bridge thought she deserved the award. “Now we have our final award: the Most Embarrassing Incident.” Bridget froze. A few students glanced in her direction, but she thought they wouldn’t be that mean to bring up the accident that happened just before she became Angela Murphy. She hoped not. “This award goes to Darren Farling for his performance on the field at the homecoming game. Darren scored every single touchdown in the entire game. Of the five touchdowns he scored, only three of them were for East High. That my friends is embarrassing.” As Darren sheepishly stepped up to receive his award, all eyes went to Bridget. “Usually we tell the embarrassing story that is cause for this award, but everyone knows why you are getting this prize. Angela Murphy come up and get your plaque. Don’t hide or we will tell the story.” Bridget walked up and took the plaque out of the class president’s hand. He gave her a hug. “Thanks for being such a great sport,” he whispered. Bridget walked down the stairs to stand with Darren Farling. “Don’t pee on me, Accident Girl,” said Darren as he put his hand around her back to slow dance with her. The music started and Bridget began to follow his lead. “If I didn’t care about embarrassing my date, I would,” Bridget said. “I think he would be embarrassed to even be here with you,” Darren said. He turned her hard, almost making her lose her step. Bridget just glared at him. It felt like the song was going on forever. Would the humiliation ever end? As soon as the dance was over she returned to her table were Derek was sitting. “So, what was this embarrassing story they were talking about?” “I’m sorry,” she sniffled and thought about how grossed out he would be if he knew she still had accidents. “Everyone was too embarrassed to go to prom with the girl that had that embarrassing incident,” she explained. “If I tell you, you won’t like me anymore.” “Okay,” said Derek. “I guess it must be pretty traumatic if you feel that way. I won’t pry.” Bridget took a Kleenex and dabbed her eyes, careful not to wipe away her makeup. “My makeup’s not too smeared, I hope.” “It’s fine,” he said. The band started to play another slow song. It was Elvis. “Want to dance?” “Yes,” she said, “but only fools rush in.” “I can’t help it,” he said as he led Bridget to the dance floor. He held her close and they slowly danced. The song was so soft and Elvis’s voice just made her want to be closer to Derek. She couldn’t help it and threw both arms around his neck, squeezing her body against Derek’s on the dance floor. His hands lowered themselves to the small of her back, but it didn’t go any lower. Derek was too much of a gentleman. Bridget had counseled Lia to not give up her virginity to James tonight, but just like Elvis, she couldn’t help falling in love with Derek. If he asked her, she would let him have sex with her. She thought of the pull-up under her dress and how she would hide it when she let Derek undress her. It somewhat took her out of the mood, but the song had ended and the music had stopped. The class president got back on the stage and said, “I want to thank the prom committee and senior class of 2009 for an excellent prom. Drive home safely everyone and thank you for making the class of 2009 the best. Derek walked her back to the table where she retrieved her purse. “Wow Angela,” said Lia, “I couldn’t dance that sensual with my dad on stage.” She held her hands over her eyes and turned around. Bridget was torn between looking up at the stage for her father and comforting her friend. She chose the stage. The lights obscured the band from seeing what was happening on the dance floor, so she felt safe. She noticed Derek was looking up at the stage as well. She turned and put an arm around Lia. “I’m sorry,” Lia said. Her mascara was running. Bridget took a Kleenex from her purse and wiped away her tears. “I’ve ruined my makeup.” “It lasted through most of prom,” said Bridget. “Let’s just smile for another half hour and well be home and we can stop pretending to have fun.” “Oh, I did have fun, Angela,” she said. “I just know my daddy’s not going to be at home worrying about me that makes sad.” She started to walk out with Derek and James. “I’ll admit I had fun too,” said Bridget. “Angela, we forgot our plaques!” Bridget and the guys waited as Lia ran back to the table and retrieved the awards. She handed Bridget her plaque. “We don’t want to lose these.” “You do remember how I won this, don’t you?” “Oh,” Lia said. She looked a bit embarrassed. “Thank you for going to prom with me, Lia” James said. “And thank you for taking me,” Lia replied. The group walked back to James’s car and they all piled in. As James started the car, Bridget held up a hand and said, “Home James, and don’t spare the horses.” Tonight certainly hadn’t been ruined for her. It had been embarrassing at times, but she was glad she came even if she held a plaque in her hands that she earned by pooping and peeing her pants. The only thing she would really regret about this night was not sleeping with Derek. Bridget woke in a wet diaper. She thought that with school over and the ability to relax, she would wake up dry, but she had another bad dream. Lia’s father had starred in last night’s nightmare. She couldn’t get the image of a chainsaw chain catching on a spike and breaking. The news had done a special on eco-terrorists and then showed video of what a chainsaw would do to a mannequin. She could still see the plastic being torn apart and imagined that happening to a person. Bridget ripped her diaper off angrily and threw it into her waste basket. If only she could find Flower again. She only had the malnourished hippie’s word that she was going to Washington State University. It was a big campus and she hoped she could track the girl down. She still did not know how she would be able to interrogate the girl, but she would find a way. Until she could get to college, she would have to make do with her new mom and dad. She walked into the bathroom and took a shower. The water ran down her back and she turned and let the spray soft massage her shoulders and run down her breasts in sudsy rivulets. She scrubbed her skin and paid special attention to her diaper area. In prison, she had taken her showers before bed, but with the bedwetting she had no choice, but to take them in the morning. Since school had ended, she still got up and took her shower because she didn’t want to run around the house in a wet diaper. She stepped out of the shower and dried off. She smiled at the fact that the students who hadn’t got an A for the semester in a given class were probably sitting in school taking their final. Bridget felt a bit of cruel satisfaction that Julia Grass had to take all six of her finals while Bridget had the last few days off. She had planned to do something great today if only to tell Julia what she was doing while Evan’s ho was taking an English final. She pulled on jeans and a T-shirt with a picture of a covered wagon that said You Have Died of Dysentery. She thought it was cute when she saw it online and bought it with her mother’s credit card after her doctor’s visit hadn’t gone as planned. She knew none of her high school friends would get the joke but she didn’t care. She had played the game when it first came out and she had thought it was pretty advanced at the time. She came down the stairs and found strange people sitting in the living room. “Hi Angela,” the lady said. “We came in late last night to see your graduation.” The older man sitting next to her smiled. “I knew you would get pretty good marks. Your mother said you were number four in your class. Pretty good in a class of three hundred and twenty. I was number three in my class but we only had four students.” Bridget’s mother walked in. “Do you want decaf or regular coffee?” She looked at Bridget. “Oh, you’re up. Don’t just stand there. Say hello to your grandpa and grandma.” “Hello,” Bridget said. She sat in the chair next to the couch where they were sitting. She folded her hands in her lap and tried to make polite conversation. It was more of Angela’s friends and family to fool. She longed for college to start so she could be herself and stop pretending to be Angela except in name only. “What time do we need to be at your graduation ceremony?” asked Grandpa. “It starts at 5:30, so I would get there by five,” said Bridget. “I think I have to be there even earlier for rehearsal.” She dreaded the rehearsal because Julia had texted last night that there truce was over and it was fair game to tease her again. Bridget had opted out of signing up to go to the party after the graduation ceremony because she knew Julia would resume the teasing. “Tell Grandma and Grandpa where you will be going for college,” her mother said. “WSU,” said Bridget. “I’m majoring in double E.” “I thought you were going into teaching,” said Grandma. “That’s what you told me when you visited during spring break.” According to her grades, Angela was so smart; yet Bridget was not going into teaching. Not that she wanted to knock teaching. Bridget had the benefit of two years in electrical engineering before she gave up school due to money issues. Oh course she chose engineering. “I just changed my mind,” Bridget answered. “I know it will take a lot more math classes, but I did well in math.” “What ever you do, Angela,” said her Grandmother, “you will do well.” “Thank you.” “Breakfast is ready,” said Bridget’s mother. Her mother outdid herself with bacon, omelets, and pancakes. Bridget smiled as she took her place at the table. She sat between her grandparents and enjoyed her dinner. When dinner ended her mother cleared the table and her father stood by the back door. “Since Angela is graduating she is almost all grown up,” her father said. “I love you Angela and I got you a gift to start out your adult life. Come on. It’s in the garage.” He led her, her mother, and her grandparents to the garage and opened the garage door. Inside was a black car. It was exactly like James’ car, but it looked a lot nicer. The paint was shiny black, not scarred and rust trimmed like the ride she rode to prom. “It’s a 1984 Ford Crown Victoria Police. It was the nicest one.” Her father put his hand on the hood. “There is not a spot of rust on this one.” He opened the hood and Bridget gazed at the engine that looked like it barely fit in the car. “A 5.8 liter engine and a Variable Venturi carburetor.” The car was well taken care of. Bridget opened the door and sat in the driver’s seat. She looked into the back seat, expecting to see the metal barrier dividing front and back seats, but it wasn’t there. In fact, she couldn’t tell from the inside that it had even been a cop car. She stood up and gave her dad a hug. “Thank you.” “Now it uses quite a bit of gas,” he said, “but it has power.” “I love it,” said Bridget. “And I love you and want you to be safe.” He walked around to the passenger side and sat down. “Let’s go test this out. Get in.” “Yes sir.” She sat back down in the driver’s seat and her dad handed her the keys. “We’ll be back in about an hour,” he said to her mother and grandparents. Bridget started the car and smiled as the engine roared to life. “It purrs like a kitten,” her father said. Bridget put the car into gear and stomped on the gas. “Only if the kitten is a lion,” she said as the car squealed out of the garage and onto the street. She slowed down to the speed limited and drove normally. When she got to the highway her dad had her go I-90 east. After about twenty minutes they crossed into Montana. “Open it up,” her dad encouraged her. Bridget stomped the gas and soon had the car going ninety. At one stretch of road she got it up to one hundred, but she didn’t dare get it faster. She slowed down to seventy-five and turned the car around. “It’s supposed to get up to 130, but you’ll never find anywhere straight enough. Let’s go home before your mother worries.” Bridget drove the rest of the way home at seventy-five and drove home smiling. She would have fun with this car. She just knew it. ### “Wow,” said Lia. “It’s just like James’s car, only it looks like someone took care of it. Oh, and it is not so police inside.” It was true. Bridget’s dad had removed all trace of there being a cage in the back. He even filled the holes where the bars had been screwed. “Well, are you ready to do this?” Bridget asked as she adjusted her graduation cap and honors stole. “Yes. I just wish our school colors were not orange and blue,” said Angela as she adjusted the blue tassel over her orange cap. “I know what you mean,” said Bridget. “Well we better hurry. If we are late for rehearsal they might not let us walk the stage.” Bridget drove to school and parked her car in the parking lot next to James’s similar car. There was a marked difference in quality although James had removed the divider in between the front and back seats. Still it was not as shiny or as nice as Bridget’s. She didn’t dwell on that too long. She went into the gym and started rehearsing for the ceremony. Bridget had some relief that Julia Grass wasn’t there. She was only a junior, so she had a whole other year before she could graduate. She was probably right about Evan finding a new girlfriend in college. Still he could also be a jerk too. He proved it when they were giving a break. “So, Angela,” he said, “I’m lucky I come before you in the alphabet. I wouldn’t want to slip if you pee on the stage.” “Evan,” said Lia. She gave him a mean look. “Besides, I am in the top ten, so we go first,” said Bridget. “If I leave a trail, you can still trip.” She smiled with an evil grin. “Besides, no one here will see me again. What do I have to lose?” “That’s disgusting,” he said before walking away. “You do have a pull-up on, don’t you?” asked Lia with a whispered voice. “Nope,” she said. “I have on a full diaper. I am not taking any chances. Besides, I got this long gown to cover up with and underneath I have on a long dress so no one will know.” “You are enjoying this too much,” Lia said. “Only the part about making Evan uncomfortable.” “Alright everyone, take your seats and get ready for the ceremony.” ### The room got hot and the whole area where senior class sat was alight from the overhead lights. Bridget tried to look behind her for Lia, but couldn’t see. She gave up and looked up in the stands for her parents and grandparents. They were not around either. The announcer called the gym to order and Cindy Ericson got up and did her valedictorian speech. It was really good. At the close of her speech the teachers motioned the front row to stand up and walk to the stage. Cindy left the podium and took her place at the front of the line and the names were given as they walked the stage. “Cindy Ericson”, “James Duane”, “Peter Schuster”, and then finally they called her name: “Angela Murphy.” She walked the stage, shook the principal’s hand, took her diploma, and stood beside Peter. When the first ten names were called the principal put yellow cords on the shoulders of the top ten students. Then they went and sat down as the other students names were called and they got their diplomas. Bridget smiled to herself. At least the high school portion of her new life was over. Three and a half weeks of high school was too much to relive, especially if the first day that time started with a stinky poop in her panties. At least she didn’t have to take finals. She sat and watched the rest of the students graduate and was glad the whole thing was over. Her next step was college. After the ceremony Grandma wanted to take them all out to eat so they went to have dinner. Grandma was happy about the dress that Bridget had chose. It was the dress she wore to church that first Sunday. They ate at a nice steakhouse. Bridget ordered the New York strip. It tasted much better than her last meal in prison had tasted. Tonight was great and she would be closer to her goal of finding the terrorist. Not here in the steakhouse: she doubted the terrorist would set foot in a steakhouse unless he were attacking it. She would be going to college and could get the terrorist through Flower. The evening ended and Bridget got undressed to go to bed. She had to put a new diaper on because she had to pee and the tapes tore the plastic of the diaper when she took it off to use the bathroom before bed. She went to sleep and her dreams were almost peaceful. She had the dream again, so that interrupted her sleep, and of course she had wet the bed in her sleep. She tried to be upset about it, but she had gotten used to waking up wet. She’d never like it, but it wasn’t too bad. Bridget put her packed bags in the trunk of her car and closed the lid. “All ready to go,” she said. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?” asked her mother. “For freshman orientation you can have a parent with you.” She knew Flower might be there and wanted to get info on what she was up to. There was no way she could get time to lean on Flower with her mother there. “I need to do this on my own. I know there are things you can help me with and I have a cell phone if I need anything, but it’s time I do a few things by myself.” “Do you have enough supplies?” her mother asked. “You’ll be staying overnight for two nights.” “Mother.” She looked around to make sure no one heard, but it was only her mother and father there. She was embarrassed, but was sure her mother hadn’t mentioned the word “diaper.” “Well drive safe,” said her dad, “and try to keep it under one hundred.” Bridget smiled back at him. “I’ll try.” She hopped in her car and drove toward Pulman, Washington. At last she would be able to make some headway on her search to get the terrorist. Her lips curled in anticipation of how she would make the terrorist pay. During the few hour drive, she thought about different punishments she would give the terrorist. Maybe she would soak him in diesel fuel and light it, or maybe she would strap him down to a gurney and inject poison in his veins. Whatever she decided, she could only do one thing to him because she knew it would be fatal. When she got to her destination she parked where her orientation packet said to park. She parked beside a red Eclipse and got out to get her stuff. “Hi. I’m Ami Kent,” said the Asian girl getting out of the Eclipse. She dressed and talked like an American so Bridget guessed she wasn’t an international student. “Are you here for freshman orientation too?” Bridget asked. “Yeah,” said Ami. “Of course I am.” She pulled a large bag out of the passenger seat and smiled. “No parents and no boyfriends. Nothing will stop me now,” she said. Too hyper, thought Bridget, but she responded anyway. “Well I want to get settled in before everything starts,” said Bridget. “Good idea,” she said. “Let’s go in.” The dorm they would be staying in for the next few days was the Stephenson Complex. It was not by any mean luxurious and Bridget knew that. She didn’t care. She wanted to get in her dorm, find a place to hide her diapers, and get a little downtime before they rounded them up for orientation. “So why didn’t your parents come with you?” Bridget asked. “I mean mine didn’t come either, but I had reasons for wanting to be alone.” “My dad had a multimillion dollar business deal he had to deal with and my mother is too sick to come so I am here alone.” She shrugged. “I’ve been doing everything for myself anyway and Dad’s got money so I manage.” She looked at Bridget struggling with her bags. “So what’s your story?” “I just wanted to be alone,” said Bridget. “I love my parents, but they can be a little overbearing sometimes.” “I understand. Mother is overbearing when she isn’t pretending to be sick so Dad with pay attention to her.” They arrived at the door to the door and walked over to a table that was set up there. “Angela Murphy,” she said to the Resident Assistant looking over the list. “And Ami Kent.” She watched the girl struggle a bit and pointed at her name. “That’s A. M. I.” “You two can have 418,” said the RA. She handed them each a key and pointed to the stairs. ### “That was fun,” said Bridget as she pulled her stuff into the room and walked toward one of the beds. She worried for a second when she saw the plastic sheets, but both beds were equipped the same way so she knew they weren’t put there just for her. “Especially when that one guy asked us why we were taking the stairs after we already made it to the top.” Bridget opened a door in the corner of the room and looked inside. She expected a bathroom, but it was just a closet. It was a rather big closet, divided in two and it divided the dorm room into two branches of an L. It still did not afford much privacy, but it was more private than most dorms. “Where is the bathroom?” she asked. “I think it is down the hall?” said Ami. “Great,” said Bridget. “I’ll be right back.” She walked out the door and found the lady’s room. There were rows of showers, rows of toilets, and rows of sinks, which meant she would either find a way to change into her diapers quietly in her dormroom, or in the bathroom and then get to her dormroom without any noticeable crinkling. She did her business and returned to the room. It was only going to be two nights and Ami wouldn’t be her real freshman year roommate. “I’m settled in, I think,” said Ami. “Let’s go down stairs and mingle.” “Good idea,” Bridget agreed. She first took the time to make her bed first before going downstairs. If she had to get her diapers on in the room with Ami there, she wanted to do it under her covers. When they got downstairs, they ran into other freshmen in the dorms first floor lounge. Some were playing pool, others were sitting in comfortable chairs in front of a big screen TV. Still, others were chatting or flirting or other stuff. Since it was just orientation, most students had parents with them. Some looked at Bridget and Ami with a bit of jealousy. Theoretically, it was almost college, and it was hard to impress other students with parents present. That would change when classes started the last week of August. Still that was a month away. “Hey Angela,” said a voice called to her. Bridget turned to see Flower standing there. “It’s pretty cool that you decided to come to WSU.” “Yeah,” said Bridget, “I decided at the last minute. I’m surprised I could get my FAFSA done in time.” “Oh, I hate filling out forms,” said Flower. “So much paper going to waste. At least I could fill them out online and not hurt trees.” She wore a green t-shirt that showed a tree. It said, “Hug a tree.” “It probably burns more carbon to run your computer, than it takes to fill out a paper form,” said Ami. Flower got an angry look on her face for a moment, but then smiled. “Well, I see my uncle. I should probably sit with him.” She pointed in the direction of the chairs in front of the TV. Bridget looked and saw the terrorist sitting calmly watching a show on the discovery channel and froze. Hot pee warmed the insides of her pull-up and she couldn’t focus on anything else. She was peeing so long she thought she was going to leak. Finally it stopped and she looked down at the legs of her blue jeans. Still dry, but she wondered for how long. Her pull-up felt saturated. “Excuse me,” she told Ami. “I left something in the room.” She turned and hurried toward the elevator and up to the room. Finally, in the safety of the elevator she felt the back of her pant leg. It seemed to be a bit damp and she almost panicked and decided to drive home. However, the elevator was mirrored and she was able to see the back of her legs. They didn’t look wet. She half smiled and decided she could do this. Once in the room she stripped from the waist down and began to clean herself with some wipes. She got out a new pull-up and pulled it on. She was tempted to put on her night diaper and hide it under a skirt, but Ami and Flower might notice if she changed clothes. Instead, she pulled up the jeans she had been wearing over the pull-up. She felt some relief that she hadn’t leaked, but it had been close. Tomorrow she would wear her long skirt and Depends. She carried the wet pull-up to the trash inside the common bathroom and started downstairs. Today, however, she had to get back to the orientation session. It was supposed to start at 1:00 and it was already 1:05. She hurried back down to the lounge just as everyone was filing out for the campus tour. “Took you long enough,” said Ami. “That creepy skinny girl kept asking where our room was. She wanted to look for you.” She imagined Flower walking in on her as she was changing herself. “What did you tell her?” “I certainly didn’t give her the room number.” “Good,” said Bridget. She had plans for Flower, but she didn’t know how to get her alone without the terrorist. Maybe Ami should have told her to go up and find her, but someone else would have gone looking for the two of them and Bridget wasn’t sure how she would interrogate Flower. She didn’t think water boarding would work and besides, she still didn’t google how to do it. The tour of the campus took over an hour. They walked from building to building while the campus ambassador droned on and on about the different buildings and what went on inside them. “And this is the Engineering Building where most of the engineering students have classes. Bridget looked in the window and wondered what else would be going on in the class. She looked over at Flower who was standing with her uncle. At the sight of the terrorist, she had another little accident. It was just a trickle this time since she had completely emptied herself with her just before the tour. Her cheeks burned and she looked around to see if anyone noticed. “Just don’t look at him,” she whispered. “Pretend he’s not there.” Her pull up was mostly just damp and did not overwhelm the absorbent material at all. “You okay” asked Ami. “You look a bit flustered.” “I’m just a bit warm,” she said. Her face did fell warrm, but it was from the heat of her blushing, not the weather. “Now we are going inside this building and we can start orientation,” said the tour guide. The rest of the day was spent in a boring lecture hall. There were presentations about student life, campus rules, and diversity training. Where she was seated she couldn’t see the terrorist though. She wasn’t constantly dribbling anymore either. Pretending he wasn’t there was her best bet if she wanted to win. Finally they were dismissed. “I’m glad that’s over,” said Ami. “There are two more days of this,” said Bridget. She looked over her orientation schedule. “I wonder why they need three days or orientation.” “Worthless lectures about anorexia, racism, and acceptance,” said Ami. “Well the rest of the time will be with our advisors and team building exercises and stuff,” Bridget said. “Although your creepy, thin friend must not need the anorexia lecture,” said Ami. “She was nibbling on stuff from her lunch bag all day. She’s probably bulimic.” “She’s a vegan,” said Bridget. “She must eat a lot, but nothing of substance.” “Well speaking of food, they led us to the cafeteria,” said Ami. As soon as they returned to the Stephenson complex, they were led into the cafeteria. Bridget and Ami heaped their trays full of food. Today they were serving chicken and Jello. “I don’t think those two foods go together.” “I don’t care,” said Bridget. She set her tray on the table and picked up a drum stick and started to eat it. “It’s good enough.” Flower came by and set her tray on the table. She only had Jello on her tray. “I can’t believe you two are eating that much chicken. You know they live their entire lives in tiny cages and they can’t turn around.” Ami took a bit of her chicken breast and swallowed. “Not true. They’ll live some of their lives in my stomach. “So you are going to fill up on just Jello,” asked Bridget. “Yes,” answered Flower. “I don’t eat food from animals or animal products. Jello is made from fruit.” She spooned a bite of Jello into her mouth. “Hate to break it to you,” said Ami, in between bites of chicken. “Actually, I am happy to break it to you. Jello is made from the bones and skins of hogs. The only fruit in it is from the artificial flavoring.” “It is not,” said Flower. She took a tentative bite of her food. “That’s not nice,” said Bridget. “She hardly gets enough food as it is.” “I’m sorry I tied to trick you,” said Ami. She smiled. Bridget tried unsuccessfully to forget that Ami’s fingers were crossed. She was glad she loved meat. She ate fried chicken until she was full. She lost her appetite for Jello. “You going to eat that?” asked Ami as she pointed to her Jello. “No,” said Bridget. She scooped up Bridget’s Jello and ate it. “Sorry, but I am a hungry girl.” Flower finished her food about the same time. “A vegetarian diet really is healthier,” she said. “I can’t,” said Ami. “My Korean heritage requires me to eat meat, especially your cat or dog.” Flower got up and walked away quickly. “You don’t really?” asked Bridget. “Of course not; I was just messing with her,” Ami answered. “I’m born and raised in Seattle. I grew up on salmon filets, sea food, and Starbuck’s Coffee.” Bridget giggled. “Just don’t scare the poor girl away. I need to find out something from her first.” “Okay, I have another confession to make,” said Ami. “What’s that?” “I don’t have a Korean heritage. My great grandfather came to Seattle from China.” Bridget giggled again. She looked around and Flower was nowhere in sight. After supper Bridget spent the time mingling with others students. She and Ami were they only girls she found that were in engineering. A lot of the freshmen hadn’t even picked a major, which shocked and appalled Bridget. Bridget knew what she wanted to do. She wanted to take electrical engineering as a major and actually finish this time. Thanks to Angela’s parents money would not stand in her way. She hurried up to her room. Ami wasn’t there yet, so she used the time to diaper herself for bed. She didn’t know when Ami would walk in, so she changed herself on the floor of the large closet. There was no air conditioning in the Stephenson Complex and the evening was hot. She just put a T-shirt and gym shorts on over her diaper and went to sleep. It was funny trying to sleep at night in a strange place. It’s not the same. The bed in the Murphy house where she slept had felt strange the first week or so and this place would take getting used to as well. Any bed was still better than the cot she slept on in prison before she became Angela. Dreams came to her again that night, but it seemed too real. There were dead children. There was Lia’s father’s death. There was the terrorist. He entered her dream and just laughed at her as franticly tried to steer the truck away from the middle school. She felt the needle enter her arm in the death penalty and then she woke up in the woods. Lumberjacks were coming down the trail with chainsaws to cut the trees, but the terrorist had booby trapped them. Frantically she tried to pull the spikes from the trees with a crowbar, but the crowbar turned to rubber in her hands. Instead she tried to warn the lumberjacks what the terrorist had done but she couldn’t talk or make a sound from her throat. When the lumberjack started cutting a tree, she finally was able to yell out a warning, but it was too late. The chain saw went flying and hit her on the head. She woke up screaming just as a pillow hit her in the head. The sheets were wet and sweaty and twisted around her. Her shirt had ridden up and her shorts had come down exposing her diaper. “What the freak,” asked Ami. “Do you always scream when you wake up?” She walked over to retrieve her pillow. Bridget looked down make sure her diapers were covered, but the sheets were so twisted she couldn’t cover up before Ami discovered the juvenile garment she wore. “Is that a diaper?” asked Ami. “Most people stop wetting the bed by college age, Angela.” She paced back and forth across the room. “This is just gross. Cover up.” She grabbed some clothes and her toiletry bag to run to the bathroom. Bridget got up and stood between Ami and the door. “Listen, I can’t help it,” she said. “I went through a very stressful situation last year. I have nightmares every night and it’s horrible.” Tears came to her eyes. She squeezed her eyes shut to keep from crying, but it couldn’t shut out the tears. “You have to promise not to tell anyone.” “It’s still gross,” said Ami. “Maybe you want to take a shower because you smell like pee.” “Do you promise?” asked Bridget. “I’m not asking you to refrain from teasing me; I’m just asking that you not tell anyone about this. It is so embarrassing.” “Okay,” said Ami. “I promise.” She looked toward the door. “I got an embarrassing problem too. I wasn’t counting on the common bathroom. I hate public bathrooms and...” She looked around. “It’s early enough. Can you guard the bathroom door while I go. I promise I will keep your secret.” “Okay, but we better hurry.” She went into the closet and put on her robe. She also grabbed the outfit she planned on wearing for the day and her bag of toiletries. Before she came out, she stripped off her diaper and rolled it up. She put it in a plastic bag and wrapped it in her towel. “I’m ready,” Bridget said. “Let’s hurry,” Ami said. She put one hand over her butt for a second before they went into the hall. ### “Thank goodness no one is in there,” said Ami. “Wait by the door and please don’t listen to anything.” Bridget stood in front of the doorway feeling foolish. She smelled herself: a mix of sweat and pee. Her hair felt matted and gross and her t-shirt stuck to her skin where she had soaked it with her sweat. She also had the wet diaper and new diaper hidden in the folds of her clothes and towel. It was only a matter of time until someone discovered her holding them. She almost screamed when a hand tapped her shoulder. “I’m done,” said Ami. “You can come in now. Ami’s face had turned bright red. “It’s so embarrassing. I overate yesterday.” Bridget hurried into the bathroom, deposited her used diaper into the garbage and hopped straight into the shower. She had just gotten wet when Ami called from the next shower stall. “On the bright side, the water is hot. I expected it to be cold,” she said. “One thing went right today,” said Bridget. She let the water rinse her pee and sweat down the drain. She rubbed the shampoo in her hair and let the lilac smell cover the grossness she felt every morning. When she was finished she dressed in a toilet stall, this time in her diaper and skirt. She was not taking a chance with leaking today. She finally came out and brushed her teeth at the sink. Ami was just finishing flossing when Bridget came out. “Ready for another day?” asked Ami. “The schedule said we have to take math, English, and writing placement tests. We should get a good breakfast first or they will put us in dummy classes.” “I guess you are right.” Bridget dragged her comb through her wet hair. She winced a bit as a tangle got caught in the teeth, but then had it under control. Angela’s hair was longer than her old hair had been and it was much harder to take care of, but she liked how it looked and had never cut it. Ami spent a longer time on makeup than her, so Bridget was able to finish at relatively the same time. “Ready for food?” asked Bridget. “Of course,” Ami replied. After dropping their stuff off at the room, they took the elevator downstairs for an early breakfast. ### It was bad enough that Bridget couldn’t cross her legs while wearing her diaper; it was even worse she couldn’t drop her hand in between her legs like she could if she were wearing pants. She bit her pencil and tried to concentrate on solving an equation. She wished she’d had just worn her pull-up and took chances that it might leak. She also wished she had gone to the bathroom after the English placement exam or even before the writing placement exam. Of course the bathroom had been full of other girls and she hadn’t wanted them to hear her diaper. She hadn’t had time between exams to go up to her room, and even if she had, she couldn’t get the privacy she really wanted. It was starting to get urgent and she was only fifteen minutes into her placement exam. She was tempted to give up, but that wouldn’t work either. She was only a third of the way through and needed to get through this exam or she might be put in remedial classes. That was three extra credit hours and hundreds of dollars and besides, she knew the material. She imagined she felt wetness in her diaper, but she couldn’t be sure. She didn’t feel anything come out. She wondered what would happen if she just got up and went to the restroom. Would they let her back in to finish the test? She didn’t want to take the chance. The proctor went up to the board and erased the 45 that was written on the board and wrote 40. She was running out of time. What would she do if she peed her pants? She sighed. It was not like her diaper wouldn’t hide it, but she had never just wet herself on purpose. It was always an accident. The terrorist caused those. She caused this herself by not using the toilet when she had a chance. She tried to concentrate on her math, but her bladder kept signaling that it wanted to be empty. The proctor changed the 40 to a 35 and she decided that it would only be a one time thing. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine she was on the toilet and relaxed. The familiar feeling of uncontrollable wetness streamed into her diaper. She just stared ahead and hoped it would stop before she overwhelmed the diaper. It did stop and the thirsty material of the diaper did its job. She tried to ignore the wetness against her skin as she finished the last bit of the test. She finished with moments to spare and went straight to the bathroom. As soon as she got in of the stall she took of her skirt and diaper and sat down on the toilet. She was completely empty, but her skin was wet. She just wiped off with toilet paper and grabbed a clean pull-up from her purse since she hadn’t brought an extra diaper. She pulled it on and rolled up the dirty diaper. Before exiting the stall, she checked that the coast was clear and then went and threw the old diaper away. She washed her hands and had just deposited the used paper towel into the trash over her old diaper when Ami walked in. “Oh, hi, Angela,” she said and rushed past her into the stall. Bridget could hear her fumbling with her clothing before sitting and starting to pee. She came out soon afterward. “How do you think you did on the tests?” asked Bridget. “I think I did okay,” she said. “Just wish the test wasn’t so long. I almost wish I would have stolen one of your diapers. I had to pee so bad.” Bridget blushed not only at the mention of her diapers, but also at the thought of having used one during the test. “About that,” she said. “You did promise you wouldn’t tell anyone. I don’t want anyone to find out by mistake.” Flower walked in. “Hi. How were your tests?” “Especially her,” whispered Bridget. ### The three walked to the cafeteria for lunch. “I wonder if they have anything healthy for dinner today,” said Flower. She gazed at the menu and smiled. “Cool,” she said, “they have portabella mushroom burgers.” “What’s that?” asked Ami. “It’s like a hamburger, except they have a portabella mushroom instead of the meat.” They went through the line pretty quickly. Ami grabbed a regular cheeseburger. “A little meat might help you,” said Ami. “You’re too skinny and your skin has an unhealthy paler to it.” “Humans beings were made to eat only fruits and vegetables,” said Flower. “You don’t know what healthy even looks like.” “Will you two knock it off?” Bridget said. “Let’s just sit down and eat without arguing. They chose a table and Bridget started on her cheeseburger. “So what is on the agenda this afternoon?” asked Ami. “Well, it says there is a presentation by intramurals and the student activities center,” said Flower. “I am hoping there will be an environmental club or something.” “Are your whole family vegetarians or green?” ask Bridget. This was the perfect chance for interrogation. She leaned forward in her seat ready to listen. “Not really,” she said. “My uncle has been a vegan as long as I’ve known him. I started in seventh grade. My parents were supportive though.” “So this uncle of yours: did you always hang out with him more than your own parents? I saw that he came with you for orientation and I saw him with you when we met at the mall.” “No, he just lives closer to WSU. I am from Seattle, so it would be a bit of a drive.” She took a bite of her mushroom burger. “So your parents must have busy jobs?” “Kinda,” she said. “My brother is starting college too and they are taking him to orientation at University of Oregon.” “So they ducked out of taking you?” asked Ami. Bridget and Flower both gave her a dirty look. “Get it? University of Oregon’s mascot is the Ducks.” Bridget couldn’t help but smile. She knew Ami was sarcastic. She didn’t know she was into puns. “Anyway,” said Flower. “I am staying with my uncle until school starts. He works for an animal rights group up in Spokane. I’ve been spending the summer volunteering.” “Oh,” asked Bridget. “What does that entail?” “So far I am just stuffing envelopes and walking door to door to get petitions signed. That kind of stuff.” “I kinda thought it would be a bit more exciting than that?” Bridget said. She didn’t know how to ask her if she was spiking trees or who did. She was about the same age as Angela, so she wouldn’t have had anything to do with the tanker incident. “Well anyway I am taking civil engineering so I can work on more sustainable ways to build things,” Flower said. “I actually can’t wait until school starts.” “I am taking Aerospace Engineering,” said Ami. “I am going to be working at Boeing.” “Nice goal,” said Bridget. “I’m in Electrical Engineering. Don’t know how that is going to work out for me. I do know that I will finish and get a degree this time.” “This time?” asked Ami and Flower together. Oops. She had misspoke again and in front of Flower. “I...uh...I said, ‘the first time.’” “Well I am only thinking about this time,” said Ami. “Tuition is high enough,” said Flower. She held up her water glass. “To getting through it the first time.” “Cheers,” said Bridget. ### There were quite a few clubs and intramural sports at Washington State. The presentation ran several hours and it was late in the afternoon before the presentation was done. One of the advisors came into the room. “Your placement tests were graded and I have the results to pass out too you. Also, I will pass out a slip of paper with your advising appointment on it. We will be making your class schedule there so have an idea of what classes you want to take and when. We will class you together for certain basic courses so your entire dorm floor is in the same section of English 101, for instance.” The names were called and each freshman walked up and took his or her advising appointment and test scores. When the name “Flower Childs” was called Flower ran up and got her scores. “Flower Childs?” Ami said and broke into giggles. “I thought Flower was bad enough.” “No wonder she is a screwed up hippie,” said Bridget. Not that having an eco-terrorist for an uncle screwed her up or anything, Bridget thought. Ami Kent was called and got her stuff. “I knew I would ace them all,” she said and showed off her score.” Flower stuck her tongue out at Ami. “I don’t have to take any dummy classes at least,” she said. “Now I’m sitting here without my scores and feeling all nervous,” said Bridget. She really didn’t want to take remedial math or English, especially since she was an honor student in high school. The would probably say all Idahoans were hicks if that happened. “Angela Murphy.” Bridget went up and got her scores. She looked at what she had: 95 in writing, 96 in English, and 92 in math. She frowned. It was the distraction of having to pee that had done her in on the math test. At least she still qualified to take calculus in the fall. That would have been embarrassing. She returned to her seat. “So what did you get?” Ami pulled her paper away. “That’s supposed to be private,” she said. “It’s not so bad,” said Ami as she pushed her scores back to her. “Some of these people are dummies. That girl over there has to take remedial math, writing, and English. At least she’s an art major.” “What do art majors do when they graduate?” asked Bridget. “I’ll give you a hint: would you like fries with that?” Ami giggled at her own joke. “That’s not so funny,” said Flower. “McDonalds kills chickens in the most inhumane way. If children knew how their food was killed they would not call what they eat Happy Meals.” “I’m suddenly not hungry,” Bridget said. “Want to go up to the room, Ami?” “I am sort of hungry,” said Ami. “Well I know a pizza place that delivers to the dorms.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “I don’t want to eat dinner with Flower tonight.” “Oh,” said Ami. “The two girls said their goodbyes and went up to the dorm room. Bridget woke up screaming again and wearing a wet diaper. At least the sheets weren’t twisted around her exposing her diaper to Ami again. Ami groaned. “I guess I am never going to get my beauty sleep with your nightmares.” She sat up and looked over at Bridget. “Did you have an accident again?” Bridget sighed. “I have terrible nightmares.” “Well, we may as well hit the showers,” said Ami. “You probably need one and I want one because it gets hot in here at night.” Bridget pulled on her robe and went into the closet to get her clothes and toiletries. She chose a pull-up instead of a diaper. She didn’t want to repeat the experience of wetting in the daytime and she was too embarrassed to change or make crinkling noises in the bathroom that could be heard by other girls. She collected her stuff just as Ami collected her own things. “I’m ready.” She and Ami went to the bathroom and they showered. It was early enough that it was still empty and they had the bathroom to themselves. Bridget dressed quickly and brushed her teeth before Ami came out and started to put on her makeup. “What’s on the agenda today?” “Just schedules,” Bridget answered. “I hope I get into the classes I want.” “We both did pretty good on the placement tests,” Ami said. “Yeah, that’s true only I did well on mine,” Bridget said with a smirk. She ran a brush through her hair and then scowled when it started to tangle. “Grammar Nazi.” Ami stuck her tongue out. “Serves you right. My hair is always straight and smooth.” Bridget brushed the tangles out and looked in the mirror. The pretty face that looked back at her was worth a bit of pain. It might not be worth the bedwetting and partial incontinence, but that would take care of its self when she got revenge with the terrorist. “I’m liking the long hair too much.” “Whatever.” “Feel like breakfast now?” asked Bridget. “Not really.” Ami rubbed her stomach. “I’m still satisfied from that pizza we gorged ourselves on last night.” “Well, maybe if we go downstairs the pool table will finally be free.” Bridget always had looked at the pool table with longing whenever she was escorted past the recreation area at the prison. They hadn’t let her mix with the other prisoners when she was incarcerated. She had spent most of the twelve years on death row alone. “Sure, sounds fun, Angela,” Ami said. They walked to the dorm’s rec room and sure enough, it was empty. The clock on the wall showed six o’clock, so most everyone else was in bed. Ami put the triangle on the table and began arranging balls. “I haven’t played pool since they dragged us all to some bowling alley after graduation so we couldn’t go to drunken parties.” “That actually sounds fun,” Bridget said. “Well you wake up wet no matter if you go to bed drunk or not,” Ami said. Bridget felt her face flush. She looked around to see if anyone had heard. “You promised you wouldn’t tell.” “Relax,” said Ami. “No one’s here. I’m not going to let anyone know your secret. Besides, you helped me out with my problem yesterday.” Bridget chalked her cue and aimed at the cue ball. “Well sorry. I guess I was just paranoid.” She pulled back her cue and broke. She smiled when the balls struck with a resounding crack. “I guess you’re stripes,” said Ami. Bridget sent four other balls into the pockets before finally missing the ten ball. “Thanks for getting your balls out of my way,” said Ami. She took her cue and only manage to get the two and seven balls in. Her third shot missed, but she managed to get the cue ball between the bumper and the eight and five ball. Bridget scowled. “Thanks for leaving me with a shot.” She had to bank off two different bumpers and didn’t even make the shot she was trying for. The cue ball rolled to a stop right in front of one of Ami’s balls leaving her an easy shot. Ami tapped the ball in and then tapped in a second and a third ball. She missed the forth ball. “Well at least I am tied with you. “Until now.” Bridget took aim and sunk the twelve. Her next shot sunk the ten. “Eight in the side.” She aimed at the eight ball, but the cue knocked it just short of the pocket. It rolled back toward the center of the table. “Man, that was an easy shot, Angela,” gloated Ami. She sunk a ball, but missed her next shot, leaving only the eight ball and one other solid on the table. “Hey can I play winner?” Bridget looked back and saw Flower standing behind her. Ami frowned. “Sure, I guess.” “Eight in the corner,” said Bridget. She took aim and sent her cue ball into the corner pocket. “Oops,” she said and handed her pool cue to Flower. “You did that on purpose,” said Ami. Bridget faced Ami and put a finger on her lips. “No, I didn’t. It was an accident.” Bridget walked away and sat in front of the TV while Flower and Ami played. She flipped through the channels, but never settled on anything to watch. After awhile Ami and Flower came over and sat down on either side of her. “Ami didn’t even give me a chance to win,” Flower complained. “What’s the secret to winning, Ami?” asked Bridget. “It’s my diet of bacon,” Ami answered. She smiled as Flower made a horrified face. “She’s just messing with you,” Bridget said. “So, are you excited about your advising session?” asked Flower. She seemed to be desperate to change the subject. “A little,” Bridget admitted. “I already know what classes I want to take,” said Ami. “Yeah?” asked Flower. “Well, I want to take the basic math, English, history, and engineering classes, but I think I can fit an art elective in there.” “I didn’t know you were an artist,” said Bridget. “Well, I like doing things with my hands,” said Ami. “The only art I’ve ever done is making protest signs,” said Flower. “Yeah, you were making protest signs in kindergarten with your finger paints when the rest of us were drawing stick figures,” said Ami with a sarcastic voice. “That doesn’t count,” said Flower. “I drew stick figures in kindergarten. I just never did any serious art.” “I think I am taking ballroom dancing instead of art,” said Bridget. “You dance?” ask Ami. “I like to dance too, but the boys at my high school weren’t really into dancing except for “Soulja Boy.” “What’s wrong with Soulja Boy?” asked Flower. “I like that dance.” “We kinda like dancing with boys, not watching them show off,” said Bridget. “Yeah,” said Ami. “Oh,” said Flower. “It that how you get boyfriends?” “Now you are beginning to understand, Flower,” said Ami. “However, you can’t expect a boy to survive on eating grass, so you need to learn how to cook him something good.” “I’m not going to sacrifice the lives of animals to give a boyfriend an impressive meal.” “Then bake him a cake. Or cookies.” “Can’t,” said Bridget. “She’s vegan, so eggs and milk are out. Right Flower?” She nodded. “But I can make tasty vegan meals. They are just as yummy.” Ami looked at her watch. “Oh crap. My advising appointment is in ten minutes.” Flower looked at the clock. “Mine too.” Bridget checked her schedule and sighed. “Well, see ya. Mine isn’t for another hour.” She watched as the two girls hurried out of the room and toward the administration building. ### Bridget walked around campus for a bit and then walked toward the administration building. She had got turned around a bit on her walk and only managed to arrive a minute before her appointment. Flower waved and she looked like she was ready to burst with excitement. “Angela, I got great news.” A mans’s voice called from the advising office, “Angela Murphy.” “I can’t talk. My appointment is now. Tell me after I get done.” She hurried into the advising office. “Do you have your schedule picked?” asked the advisor. “Yeah, I do,” said Bridget. “Let’s see.” Bridget laid her schedule on the table. “Well let’s see how we can fit those classes in.” The man typed her schedule into the computer in frowned. “That section is full.” “Do I have to pick something else?” asked Bridget. “Hold on.” He tapped a few buttons and then smiled. He turned his monitor toward Bridget. “How does this look?” Bridget looked at the screen. The classes where just rearrange so that she was in different sections from what she originally picked. There was only one eight o’clock class and it was on Tuesdays and Thursday’s. “That will be fine,” said Bridget. He printed out her schedule and handed it to her. “Now that your schedule is decided, are there any concerns or questions about the dorms or living conditions?” “Um, what do you mean?” “Do you need some special accommodation or something?” he asked. Bridget remembered that this was when she was supposed to ask if she could get a roommate that was also a bed wetter. Her mother told her to ask if that was possible and that likely it would be. However, she counted on having a female advisor and she couldn’t bring herself to tell this man that she still wet the bed like a three year old. “No, I don’t have anything like that,” she said. “Well, I guess we are done. We’ll see you in the Fall.” He stood up and held out his hand. She stood up and took it. “Welcome to WSU.” “Thanks.” She turned in left the room. Flower and Ami were waiting for her when she returned. “Guess what?” asked Flower. “You have news that you are bursting to tell me about,” said Bridget. “Well yeah,” said Flower. “We’re going to be roommates.” Bridget just stood there. Ami mouthed the words, “I’m sorry.” “Well that sounds like fun,” said Bridget. She wondered how she could get close to Flower. Although she hadn’t counted on her being so annoying, it was probably the best way she could think of to find out more about this terrorist, especially since Flower would be part of any environmental group among the WSU student organizations. The three headed back to the dorm to pack. Freshman Orientation was over and in another month classes would begin. She had plenty of time to get her revenge with the terrorist. ### Bridget stood in front of her suitcase and stared at the stuff she had brought. She shoved her dirty clothes in her suitcase and then packed everything to go home. Ami smiled. “We’re taking the elevator down this time, right?” “We better,” said Bridget. “Oh, and sorry about you ending up with Flower as a roommate,” said Ami. “She is pretty annoying.” “I know, but it’s not that bad. Besides, she needs someone to keep an eye on her.” Bridget piled her suitcases together and sighed. “I hope she is nice about your nighttime problem,” said Ami. “I wasn’t planning on sharing that little factoid with her,” said Bridget. “Do you think she will find out?” “It depends on how restless you sleep.” Ami picked up her suitcase and reached for the door. “Yeah, she is going to blab to everyone.” “No,” said Ami. “I’ll speak to her about it if she finds out. I’ll put the fear of God into her.” “You’re a good friend,” said Bridget. “Thanks for being so good about my diapers.” “No problem,” said Ami. “It’s still gross, but I think that issue is minor compared to your nightmares.” She shivered. “I couldn’t stand nightly nightmares. I’d rather have to wear diapers twenty-four-seven than go through what you go through every night.” “Now that you put it that way,” said Bridget, “the bedwetting doesn’t seem as big a deal as I thought.” “Well, we better go downstairs. My mother will probably notice me since I was gone for three days.” “I hope that straightens itself out,” Bridget said. “I’m not betting on it,” said Ami. ### Bridget followed Ami out to the parking lot. They started packing their cars. Ami got in her car and drove away. Bridget waved. “Bye, Angela,” she heard. She turned and looked. Flower and her uncle were walking across the parking lot toward the terrorist’s Prius. Bridget felt the crotch of her pull-up get warm. She was peeing uncontrollably. She felt frozen in place until her bladder was empty. “Bye, Flower,” she said when she regained control of her voice. The pull-up caught most of the urine, but there was wetness seeping down the back of her legs. She looked down, but she seemed to be dry from the front. “I’ll see you in the Fall.” She waited until Flower and her uncle drove away in their Prius before she reached into her glove box for a trash bag and put it on the seat. She got into her car and drove away feeling soggy. That had not gone well. She looked at her gas gauge. At least she had enough gas to get home. Something had gone right. She imagined having to get out of her car, pump gas, and pay all while showing a pee stain in the back of her pants. She would have to make sure her bladder was more empty during the day if she ever expect to fight the terrorist. Bridget put on her pull-up and sighed. She had enjoyed wearing panties during the day again. She hadn’t seen or heard from the terrorist in weeks, except in her nightmares, and that meant no daytime accidents. She knew better than to go without protection at college and her bedwetting still required Depends to keep her sheets dry. She was leaving for college that day. She pulled her jeans up over her padded bottom and pulled on a t-shirt diagramming the rules to play rock-paper-scissors-lizard-Spock. She picked up the last of her things to take to her car. When she walked down the stairs, her mother met her. “Angela,” her mother said. “You got everything packed?” Bridget nodded. “Do you have enough supplies?” “Yes.” She blushed. Even though she had lived as Angela for five months, she still never got used to thinking of the Murphy’s as her real parents. The bedwetting really embarrassed her. So far the only ones that knew about that were her parents, Lia, and Ami. But of course everyone at her high school knew about the embarrassing accident she had, or rather Angela had, before Bridget found herself not in her own body as a condemned inmate, but in a high school student who just had a messy and public accident. Nobody could know about that. If anyone suspected, Bridget feared they might try to kill her for the crime the terrorist had framed her for. “Well Lia is outside,” her mother said. “Oh thanks,” said Bridget. She carried her last bag to her black Ford Crown Victoria and put it in the passenger seat. “Are you going to say goodbye,” asked Lia. She stood beside the car and frowned, with lips twisted in a pout. “Sure, Lia.” She stood to face her friend. “I know we were supposed to be roommates, but things didn’t work out.” “I know. You had to go to WSU instead of University of Idaho.” Lia frowned. “I’m over that. We are still friends. I just wanted to see you off before you go and to let you know I am not mad at you.” Bridget smile faded. If Lia told her that she was after the man who might be responsible for the death of her father in his tree spiking death, then Lia would be wanting to come to WSU with her, not wanting her to go to school is Moscow, Idaho. “So have you heard about your new roommate yet?” She nodded. “Her name is Flower. I met her at orientation. She seems pretty weird.” “Did you tell her about--“ “No,” said Bridget. “I don’t know how long I can hide that I wear diapers to bed, but I guess I will manage.” Knowing Flower, she would probably be more upset that she wasn’t wearing cloth. “Well, I hope she doesn’t make fun of you,” said Lia. “I’m more worried about other aspects of her personality,” Bridget said. “Oh?” She was not about to tell her that she was probably the only lead to the man who may have killed her father. “She’s a vegan and quite preachy about it.” “I enjoy my meat too much for that.” “I have no intention on adopting her food preferences,” said Bridget. “Well, good luck. I wish you could stay longer. Why do you have to leave so early?” “There are certain things I want to unpack before my new roommate gets there.” She certainly did not want to unpack her diapers under the watchful eye of Flower. “Oh,” said Lia. “Well, bye.” She leaned in and gave Bridget a hug. “I got to go. Today is my last day working at Thick Burger before I go to college tomorrow.” “Well, I will drive over and see you at least once before classes start.” “Thanks,” said Lia. She jumped into her car and drove off. Bridget returned to the house and said good bye to her mother. “Now you call when you get to campus.” “Yes, mother.” ### The drive wasn’t really that long, but it did take some time to get to campus. By the time she arrived it was already 8:45. Still, she couldn’t get her dorm key until nine o’clock anyway. “No, mother, I can’t go get your prescription,” a familiar voice said. Bridget looked and saw Ami talking into her phone. “I’m already here.” She paused. “At college.” Bridget waved to Ami. “I left last night while you and Dad were arguing.” Ami waved back. While she was occupied with her phone call, Bridget started unpacking her car to take stuff into the dorms. “No, I left because I can’t take the arguing anymore. I got to go. Bye.” She closed her phone. “Hi, Angela. Sorry you had to hear that.” “Still having problems at home?” “Nope,” she said. “I’m not home anymore, so it’s not a problem. I get to have some peace until Thanksgiving break.” “I’m glad you have some peace. I have to deal with Miss Flower Childs.” “And how she reacts to those nightmares you get?” Bridget blushed. “It’s still happening too, but maybe she won’t notice my choice of pajamas.” “I hope you are right. I only noticed because you kicked the sheets off at night. Hopefully it won’t be so freaking hot at night and you can wear some shorts to hide your diaper.” “Well, I really don’t want to dwell on that aspect of my stay here in college. I have great plans for the future. For what it is worth though, I wish you were my roommate and next semester I will try to change roommates. Flower just caught me by surprise requesting me as a roommate. For what it’s worth, I think someone needs to keep an eye on her to keep her from causing trouble.” “Good point,” said Ami. “I just think she needs to have a big plate of bacon and eggs.” The two girls hauled their stuff into the dorm and finally received their room assignments. “I’ll meet you after I get settled in,” said Bridget. She held up her cell phone. “I’ll call you.” It took her only five trips to bring everything upstairs to her dorm. Her clothes were packed in a big green Navy sea bag. She also had brought three boxes with her. One contained her computer and desk stuff. The other two contained diapers. She also had stuffed her toiletry bag in her new back pack. She had one more thing she hadn’t brought up. She ran down to her car and opened the truck. Inside was a black footlocker she had purchased at a garage sale the week before. It was about 18 inches high and three feet wide. It also had a lock. The lock thing was a big deal. It would be perfect for her diapers. The only problem was that, even empty, the footlocker was heavy. She leaned into the trunk of her car and tried her best to lift it out. She hadn’t even thought it would be that heavy. The husband of the lady who ran the garage sale had put it in her trunk for her. “Having trouble?” asked another student. He had a suitcase in one hand and a strange device in the other. “I can’t get my footlocker out of the car.” He put down his stuff and reached into the trunk and easily lifted the footlocker out of the car. He put it down behind the car. “Thanks,” said Bridget. “No problem.” He put out his hand. “Dave Matthews.” “You in a band?” asked Bridget. “I did play tuba for the Newport Knights Marching Band.” He smiled. “I get that all the time.” Bridget giggled. “I’m Angela Murphy.” She looked over at the device he held. “What is that?” “It’s a metal detector,” he said. “I like to search for old coins. It’s a bit of a hobby. I think it will be more challenging since there is no beach around, but who knows.” “Sounds like fun,” said Bridget. “Well, it is,” he said. “Tell you what.” He turned and put his gear back in his car and returned. “I’ll help you with your footlocker. I can always bring the rest of my stuff later.” He picked up the locker and started to carry it. ### “Cool,” said Dave Matthews. “We are right next door to one another.” “That’s pretty cool,” said Bridget. “After you get settled in, do you want to go get something to eat somewhere? My treat.” Bridget smiled. “I’d love to.” Then she remembered what she had told Ami. “I sort of promised my friend I would go with her. Maybe you can ask me out to dinner a different time?” She returned to her room and quickly opened the footlocker and started to fill it with her diapers. Once that was done, she threw away her boxes, put her clothes in the dresser that was in the closet and set up her computer on the little desk. She was just about done and going to make her bed when Flower walked in with her uncle. “Hi, Angela,” she said enthusiastically. Bridget just froze. Her body suddenly felt numb as the terrorist looked at her. Her crotch muscles relaxed of their own accord and she felt warmth fill her pull-up. The terrorist was in her room, helping Flower carry her things. She had never been so close to the terrorist since she crouched paralyzed with fear in her tanker truck so many years ago. She also noticed something else. It was not just her bladder that was failing her. She felt a pressure at her butt and she had to poop really bad. She grabbed her purse, and squeezed past the terrorist. “I’ll be right back,” she said. She walked as quickly as she could to the bathroom, but the urgency seemed to lessen as closer as she got. She didn’t care though. She entered a stall, pulled down her jeans and pull-up and sat down. The last thing she needed was a bowel control problem on top of her bladder issues. She used the toilet to empty herself the best she could and then when through the process of changing her pull-up. The pull-up was wet, but it could have been worse if she would have messed it. Fortunately she retained more control over her bowels than her bladder. She sheepishly slipped back into her room. The terrorist wasn’t there any longer and Bridget sighed with relief. “Why’d you rush out so quickly?” asked Flower. “I just had to use the restroom,” said Bridget. “Oh, I just wondered.” Bridget returned to the task of making her bed and then watched as Flower put her stuff around the room. She had posters that she had to put up showing animals and slogans. One was a poster of a cute piglet that read, “Does your food have a face?” Bridget sighed. She would have to have a talk about the decorating taste Flower showed. Her uncle showed up more times and it took all Bridget’s strength not to rush out of the room. Her bladder was already empty, so there were no more accidents, but that still didn’t make Bridget feel comfortable. “We are going to Studio 7 Vegetarian Restaurant,” said Flower. “Want to come?” “I’m really sorry,” said Bridget. She really wasn’t. “I promised Ami I would eat dinner with her already. After that, I am going to lay around and be a vegetable myself.” “Suit yourself,” said Flower. She and her uncle left and Bridget sighed with relief. In hindsight she should have gone. She may have even had a chance of following the terrorist, but unfortunately, she chickened out. She sighed and returned to arranging her things in her room. After everything was square, she went down the hall to Ami’s room. “Hi, Angela,” said Ami. “Come in.” On the other side of the dorm room music blasted from a set of speakers with an iPod hooked to it. The girl near the iPod glared at Bridget like her presence was some kind of intrusion. Well she glared with one heavily mascara-blacked eye. Bridget couldn’t see her other eye due to her long multicolored bangs covering it. She was very skinny and pale, but she wore long sleeves even in the summer. Bridget didn’t know how she could stand it. “We should make some rule about guests, Kim,” said the girl. “It’s Ami. Can you say Ami?” “I’m still getting my stuff arranged. Can’t we have a moratorium on guests until we get settled in?” Ami grabbed her purse and room key. “Fine,” she said, “but let’s have a moratorium on loud depressing music too.” She put her hand on Bridget’s forearm and directed her out into the hall. “I wish you were my roommate, Angela,” she said. “Anise is a stupid emo brat.” “I noticed.” Bridget wasn’t sure what an emo was, but she could tell Ami was already fed up with her. She had never seen Ami as angry as she was. Her roommate must be more annoying than Flower. “No you didn’t notice. As soon as she got here, she plugged in her iPod to loud speakers and started blasting her crappy depresso-music to everyone. I am going to go insane. Not only that, but she said my painting had to go. It’s an original Patrick Fuenz. She said it was too bright and happy. Then she puts up cheap band posters that are depressing with pictures of hearts being stabbed and shit like that.” “Hey,” said Bridget, “speaking of stabbing things, let’s go to the Fireside Grill and get some steaks. My treat.” “Yay,” said Ami. “It’ll give you a chance to forget about Anise,” Bridget suggested. “Well, I have yet to forget about her. I swear, I will cut her wrists in her sleep and no one will believe she didn’t do it to herself.” “Now that is extreme even for you,” said Bridget. The two girls took the elevator down to the first floor and began walking out to the parking lot. “Alright,” she said. “I won’t kill her, but I might get one of those roommate agreement things.” “That is more constructive.” “I mean, I would rather have you as a roommate even if you needed your diapers all the time. Let’s take my Eclipse. It is faster.” “Are you kidding?” ask Bridget. “My Crown Vic may look older, but I have a 5.8 liter V8 Police engine. We are taking the Machine.” Bridget hopped in the driver’s seat of her car and waited for Ami to get inside. “This looks a lot like an old person’s car with no hubcaps,” said Ami as she got inside. She buckled up and closed the door. Bridget started the car and threw it into reverse. The tires squealed as she backed out of her spot and then she threw it into drive and hit the accelerator. She grinned as Ami grabbed hold of the dash with one hand and the door with the other. Bridget turned onto the street and roared off campus toward the area of town where the restaurant was. ### “See, I told you my car is the fastest,” said Bridget. “Jeeze, you got here so fast, I almost needed one of your diapers, Angela,” she said. “Let’s not go so fast on the way back.” “Okay,” she said. “But only if you promise to stop mentioning my diapers in public.” “I won’t let anyone know, Angela. You know I promised that.” The two girls went inside and they got seated at a table. Ami started right in. “I don’t know how I will last the semester. Anise has gotten on my last nerve and I’ve known her less than an hour.” “Well at least you don’t have to deal with Flower,” said Bridget. “She put up PETA posters on her side of the room. I have to think about stuff like that that every time I look at them.” “Speaking of Eating Tasty Animals,” said Ami. The waitress came and took their steak orders. In less than ten minutes she brought their steaks and they were enjoying lunch. Bridget took her knife and cut through her steak and smiled as reddish brown juices flowed. She cut a piece of steak and put it in her mouth. “This is really good.” “Yes, it is,” Ami agreed. “So what does Anise like to eat?” asked Bridget. “I have no idea,” said Ami. They talked about classes and their plans until their food was gone and it was time to go to campus again. “Don’t worry, I’ll get the bill,” said Ami. She pulled out a credit card and gave it to the waitress who brought their bill. Soon after the two girls headed back to Bridget’s car. “Do you think we have time to make a Walmart run?” asked Bridget. “No, we got that assembly in less than thirty minutes.” “Oh, well let’s go to the assembly.” ### The assembly was as boring as Bridget expected. Flower insisted on sitting next to her in the auditorium. Ami sat on the other side. The assembly was basically a rehash of things that they covered a few months back in orientation and a schedule of the Week of Welcome activities. Everything to get freshmen ready before classes began. Bridget didn’t know whether to be annoyed or frustrated by all that she had to do to get ready for classes until she realized most of the stuff was optional. The only thing she would really have to do is buy her books at the bookstore and visit all the classrooms on her schedule to make sure she knew the way. Still the study skills session and note-taking session would have been useful the first time she went to college. Maybe she would have graduated. After about ninety minutes the assembly was over and they were dismissed until the next day. Bridget got up, said goodbye to Ami, and returned to her room to relax until then. ### Flower did not return to the room right away. In fact, she didn’t come back until well after Bridget was diapered and asleep. “Hey, Angela,” she said as she came in the dorm room at 2:00 am and turned on the light. She stumbled and fell into the room and Bridget knew right away what was wrong. She got out of bed and closed the dormroom door and leaned down to where Flower had fallen. “Oh great, you’re drunk aren’t you?” She put Flower in her bed, fully dressed, and only took off her shoes. She was tempted to diaper Flower, but then Flower would wonder where the diaper had come from if she woke up dressed in one. Bridget crossed back to her own bed and tried to fall asleep. She hoped Flower wouldn’t make a habit of coming back to the dorm drunk. Bridget woke up screaming the next morning. The dream was especially intense and she actually forgot it was a dream. That was until her dream self began to pee herself. She woke up hot and sweaty, but she checked to make sure her diaper was covered. She sighed with relief when she saw she was covered. However her diaper felt wet and it was time to change. “Can you be quiet?” said the rumpled form of Flower from her side of the dorm room. “My head hurts.” Bridget sighed. She then grabbed her robe and pulled it on before getting out of bed. She just had to get into her walk-in closet and pull off her diaper without Flower finding out. “Oh, dammit,” said Flower as she sat up in bed. She rubbed her hands over the mattress and then closed her eyes and held them to her head. “What’s wrong?” asked Bridget. “Stop shouting at me,” Flower begged. “I have a hangover I think. I never drank before last night.” She got out of bed with her clothes still on. Her jeans were wet around her butt and the bottom of her shirt was even wet. Bridget went into her closet, stripped off her diaper and gathered her toiletries before going out to lecture Flower. Flower just stood in the dorm room in her wet clothes looking at her wet bed. “I can’t believe I had an accident. I haven’t done that since I was seven.” She looked over at Bridget. “What do I do?” “Just take off your wet things, put on your robe and go shower,” Bridget commanded. Flower did as commanded and left the room. Bridget sighed and looked around. Her own sheets were wet with sweat. She took her own sheets and Flower’s and put them in a basket. She put Flowers clothes on top. Then she left for her own shower. The water washed her own smelly skin off and she wondered if Flower had peed herself before or it was just drunkenness. She thought it more likely the latter, but it didn’t matter. She would use Flower’s accident to her advantage. She got out of the shower and then dried off, dressed, and readied her make-up in the mirror. Flower was three sinks away, putting on her own makeup. She looked at Bridget and turned red. Bridget smiled and left the bathroom. She returned to her dorm room, got the laundry basket and took them to the laundry room. She had scoped out the laundry room for her dorm floor earlier and knew exactly where to go. She obviously didn’t want to be spotted carrying wet sheets in the hall, even if they didn’t belong to her. She finally spotted the laundry room and dumped the basket in the nearest washer. She didn’t bother sorting. Her sheets were colored, Flower’s sheet were colored, and the only thing white were Flower’s panties that were still inside her jeans. She dumped in some detergent, put some quarters in the machine and returned to her room. “You can’t tell anyone about this,” said Flower as Bridget returned to the room. “I think it would amuse Ami.” She was still sore at Flower. Flower stared back at her like a deer in headlights. “You can’t.” “Okay,” said Bridget, “but that comes down.” She pointed at the Meat is Murder poster over Flower’s bed. “Fine,” said Flower. She climbed on her bed, her feet almost slipping on the plastic sheet, and pulled the poster down. “And--,” said Bridget. “Something else yet?” “Yeah,” said Bridget. If her diaper leaked on her bed, Flower would find out about it. “If it happens to me ever, then you will have to be quiet about it.” “Deal,” said Flower. She said it quickly as if she expected Bridget to add on more terms. She sat on the bed and patted the plastic sheet. “These came in handy.” Bridget had one on her bed, and as far as she knew, so did Ami and Anise. “Yeah,” she said. “It’s so drunken freshmen don’t ruin the mattress.” Flower blushed. “I’m going to breakfast,” said Bridget. “Put our laundry in the dryer after another forty minutes.” It was only right that Flower should have to help since she caused the laundry problem. ### “So Angela, did anything interesting happen last night?” asked Ami. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” said Bridget. She took a bite of her eggs and then stabbed a strip of bacon with her fork. Ami smiled. “I saw Flower stumbling back from the room last night. Anise and her were in another dormroom partying.” “Anise and Flower are friends?” “No,” said Ami. “They were just partying. Anise woke me up and grumbled about some hippie bitch who had too much alcohol.” “That sounds like Flower,” said Bridget. “I put her to bed and she woke up cranky and with a headache.” “Well was she at least too out of it to find out about your nighttime stuff?” Bridget’s face felt warm, but she nodded. “Good.” Ami took a bite of her omelet and then started to scoop up another piece with her fork. “Now we can concentrate on the rest of the week of boredom.” ### “Welcome new freshmen. I work for the counseling office. I just want to let you know what is on the agenda until classes start on Monday. Today is already Thursday. You should have gone on a campus tour yesterday, and today after lunch you’re basically free until then. However, there is a full schedule of activities. Tomorrow there is a camping trip into the woods that will leave early Friday morning and return Sunday night. There are also concerts and plays put on by the drama club and orchestra. There is also a study skills workshop.” She droned on and on about the activities and how they were adults, but that attending class was important to success. Bridget spent the whole time trying not to roll her eyes. “Did you think it would take this long?” asked Ami. “I had no idea,” said Bridget. They walked together out of the lecture hall. “We need to go to the book store.” “Me too, but first I am going to the bathroom.” The two of them walked into the bathroom and got stalls next to each other. Bridget sat and peed. She heard Ami do the same. They finished at about the same time and both of them went to the sink to wash their hands. “I couldn’t help but notice,” said Ami. “Are you wearing a diaper?” Bridget’s face felt warm again. She was wearing a pull-up in case Flower’s uncle appeared. “It’s a pull-up she whispered. It’s for just in case. I don’t use it during the day.” “I was just curious,” said Ami. “It is less noticeable that a wet spot on your pants, I guess.” “That’s not even funny,” said Bridget. She remembered the spreading warm wet spot expanding on the front and back of her pants that streaked her jeans when she and Lia were at the movie theater. She did not want to experience that again. “But it must have happened to you,” Ami said, “or you wouldn’t be wearing the pull-ups.” “Once or twice. I got a reputation during my last semester when it happened once in class and another time in front of people from school.” Bridget looked at Ami. “Please don’t spread that around.” “I promise Angela.” “Well, let’s go to the book store.” ### The bookstore was quite the experience. Bridget bought used when she could, but the books still cost her about four times what she paid when she was a student the first time. She held up a shrink wrapped book to Ami as they exited the store. “This was $150 and I don’t dare unwrap it until the first day of class in case the instructor isn’t planning on using the book.” “Well I had to pay $50 for this.” She held a shrink wrapped thing of study notes that looked like it was Xeroxed copies of the instructor’s notes. It wasn’t even bound, but was just loose pages. “That is bad,” said Bridget. She put her most expensive book back away with the rest of her $400 in purchases. “Well, it’s just my parent’s money, but that is still a limited resource.” They arrived at the dorm and Bridget remembered her laundry. She had to make her bed. “I got to take care of some things,” she said. “I am still getting settled in.” “I understand,” said Ami. “I have to go to the mall and get some noise-canceling headphones.” Bridget thought of Anise. “Yeah, you’ll need them.” She got to her door and entered. “Hi,” said Flower. “Oh, I just came to the bookstore. Have you been yet?” Bridget looked around. Flower’s bed was made and Flower also had made her own bed. “Thanks for making my bed.” She dumped her books out on the bed. She had half expected to find that her sheets were still in the washing machine, but Flower had not only dried them, but made the bed. “It’s the least I could do,” said Flower. “I guess I should go to the book store. I won’t have a chance to go later because I am going on that camp out.” “I didn’t see you as the woods type of girl,” Bridget said. “I like nature and the environment,” said Flower. “I am going to stay here and rest up for classes.” “Well have fun, Angela.” She looked at her watch. “I really got to go.” Bridget spent the rest of the night reading ahead in her textbooks and relaxing. Bridget dreamt of the truck again. She could not turn the truck in time after wresting the steering wheel from the terrorist and it still struck the school. Burning children chased her. One of the girls asked her, “What are you doing about it? The terrorist is still out there.” “I can’t yet. It’s not time. I don’t know how to get the terrorist,” Bridget begged. “Your job is not to get just the terrorist,” said the burned little girl. “You need to get his whole gang.” “But...” Bridget tried to say. “Until you do, you will wake up wet.” She waved her hand and Bridget felt herself start to wet her diaper. She woke up in a wet diaper just as a knock came at her door. She groggily walked to the door and looked through the peep hole. “Who is it?” “It’s me, Dave,” said the guy at her door. “Dave Mathews. I wondered if you wanted to go on a walk or something.” Bridget looked around for a clock. She wondered what time it was. The clock radio on her nightstand read ten o’clock already. She had put him off for dinner and she really did want to get together sometime, but not dressed in only a diaper. “Can you come back in ten minutes?” she asked. “I need to get ready. I just woke up.” “Sure.” Bridget watched as he walked away from her door. As soon as the coast was clear, she tore off her diaper, put on her robe, and grabbed her toiletries. She looked at Flower’s perfectly made bed. It was nice the past couple of nights having her gone. She didn’t have to hide her diaper; she only had to lock the door. She even was able to sleep in just a diaper with only a thin sheet covering her. That would never work when Flower was here. She walked quickly to the bathroom, deposited her diaper in the trash and took a quick shower. The shower was just long enough to wash her hair, and get the pee smell off of her skin. She hoped for the day that she could wake up dry. After the shower she quickly did her morning routine and came out to find Dave. “So what are we doing?” asked Bridget. “Well, Angela,” he said, “I thought we would just walk around a bit and see where our classes are. Classes start tomorrow.” “I did that already,” Bridget said. He looked sad, but Bridget really wanted to make him happy. “How about we go somewhere and you can show me how your metal detector works.” “I guess we could do that. Most girls aren’t interested in metal detectors. Let me go get it.” “You do that Dave Mathews. And most girls aren’t in the engineering program so that is why they aren’t interested. I am.” ### “You just hold it a few inches of the ground and wave it around,” said Dave. He waved the detector across a small area and walked forward. After walking a few feet it beeped. Whenever he waved it over the same area it beeped again. “Does that beeping sound mean you found something?” asked Bridget. “Maybe,” said Dave. He knelt down and began digging with a small trowel. He picked up a small object and handed it to Bridget. She looked at it. “It’s a nail.” She was about to throw it down. “Probably we should throw it out so it doesn’t get caught in a lawnmower when they mow.” “Oh, good idea,” she said. She picked up the metal detector and moved it across the ground. “I expected it to be a lot easier to find stuff I wanted. I didn’t think about stuff I didn’t want.” “Well that is half the fun of finding things,” he said. “I’ll trust you on that.” Bridget swept the metal detector back and forth and suddenly it began to beep louder than it had with the nail. “Oh I found something.” Dave smiled when he saw where she had detected metal. “Does it read through concrete?” she asked. “Too bad we can’t dig underneath there without damaging the sidewalk.” “It will certainly do that,” said Dave, “especially since it is reading the rebar inside the sidewalk.” Bridget felt herself blush. “Oh.” She hadn’t thought of that. “That’s okay. We can go to the beach and play with the metal detector. It is a lot more fun and you do find more valuable stuff.” She smiled at Dave Matthews. “I’d like that.” He took the metal detector from her. “Enough of my hobby.” He looked at his watch. How about we go to Applebee’s? My treat.” Bridget rubbed her stomach. “That sounds like a great idea.” ### Lunch with Dave went pretty well. He opened doors for her, pulled her chair out at the restaurant and was a nice gentleman. It was she that ruined everything. “Thank you for taking me to lunch,” she said as they walked out toward his car. “No problem,” said Dave. “I kind of like you.” She turned to look at him. “Just kind of?” As she continued walking, she didn’t notice a raise part of the pavement where there was a crack. Her toe caught it and sent her flat on her butt. She dropped her purse as well sending the contents scattering. Dave bent down and started gathering everything that spilled out including her spare pull-up. He held it up. “Why do you have these?” Bridget felt her face heat up. “I um...,” she started, but then trailed off. She looked at Dave’s eyes and had to tell him something. “I have a bladder control problem,” she said. Her throat hurt and she felt like she was going to cry. She liked Dave Matthews. He didn’t have to wrinkle his nose, she thought. “I appreciate if you didn’t spread around my problem.” He looked away from her. “Hey, we’re friends,” he said. “I was just going to tell you how much I like you as just friends. Let me help you pick up the rest of your things.” He was nice to her about picking up her things, but she couldn’t help thinking that he was offering more than a friendship until he saw the pull-up. “I’m not going to let him see me crying,” she promised herself. She forced a smile until they got back to campus. Bridget barely held back the tears before she made it to her dorm room and shut the door. ### After moping around in her dorm room all afternoon, Bridget decided to get some sleep. She looked in the mirror and saw her eyes were still puffy and she did not want anyone in the hall to see her, especially Dave Matthews. “Maybe I’ll just go to bed and wake up super early tomorrow. She got out her diaper for the night and started to put it on. The sound of a key in the door rattled and she quickly pulled her covers over herself before Flower walked in. “Ugh, I am glad I am back in civilization,” said Flower. She dumped her bag on the bed and started unpacking. She dumped all the clothes in her laundry. “Did you have fun on your camping trip?” asked Bridget. She was a bit nervous sitting in her bed with only her diaper and T-shirt. She usually wore shorts to bed over the diaper to hide it from Flower. “Oh the place we stayed was beautiful,” said Flower. “We stayed by the river. It’s too bad the trees on the other side of the river are owned by a lumber company.” “Well,” said Bridget. “Where do you think we get buildings and stuff.” “Well, it is horrible,” said Flower. “The trees are natural and beautiful. They are cutting them down next Saturday. Someone should do something.” Bridget started to tremble. If wasn’t only wearing a diaper and a t-shirt she would have gotten up and slapped some sense into Flower. Instead, she had to deal with Flower without getting up from her bed. “Flower, relax. The first day of classes are tomorrow. I want to get some rest. Besides, you can’t do anything about it tonight.” “I guess you are right. I am going to bed early as well.” “Thanks,” said Bridget. It was two hours until she heard Flower’s soft breathing that indicated she was asleep before she could retrieve her shorts and cover her diapers. “Was your first week as hard as mine?” asked Bridget. She hefted her backpack on her shoulder as she and Ami walked out of the classroom. “It wasn’t that bad,” said Ami, “and I am not just saying that because I’m Asian.” She smiled at her own joke. “I could have done without so much homework. The professor gave us miles of Physics homework.” “It’s almost like we’re Engineering students or something,” said Bridget. “Maybe we should start a study group.” “Good idea. You want to meet after supper and we’ll just hang around your dorm room and work on homework?” Ami wrinkled her nose. “Anise made it clear that music would be playing since it is Friday.” “At least you only have to deal with her until she flunks out,” said Bridget. “I would have thought with her being emo she would have majored in English literature or something like that.” As the two girls walked down the path toward the dorm, Flower caught up to them. “Hey guys, what’s up?” “We are going to get started studying,” said Ami. “You are welcome to join us.” “I can’t,” said Flower. “It’s a life or death thing. If I don’t do this, bad things will happen.” She frowned. “I am free Saturday morning.” “We do have a life,” said Bridget. “Saturday I am sleeping in and then going shopping.” “I thought you and Dave Matthews were going somewhere special on Saturday,” said Flower. “He said something about it to me last week.” “Dave and I are not speaking,” said Bridget. “Well, I hope it blows over,” said Flower. “I am still your friend even though you kill harmless animals and eat them. What you two argue about is probably nothing compared to that.” “Bridget, are we getting General Tso’s chicken for dinner?” asked Ami. “I like it because it was named after a butcher.” “We are going to get some supper, Flower,” said Bridget. “You are free to join us.” “No, my uncle is taking me out for vegetarian tonight.” Bridget felt a slight trickle of pee leak into her pull-up at the mention of the terrorist, but she managed to control herself. She did feel slightly damp. “Let’s go Ami. I’m hungry.” “I’ll see you later tonight,” said Flower. ### “That was awkward,” said Ami. She picked up a piece of chicken with her chopsticks and expertly guided it into her mouth. Bridget picked up a bite of food, but when she turned it toward her mouth her fingers cramped and she dropped both the broccoli and her chopsticks. “What was awkward?” Ami handed her a fork and Bridget stabbed a piece of chicken with it. “The way Flower talks about her uncle all the time.” Bridget dropped her fork as she began to wet her pull-up. She felt her bottom for leaks and sighed with relief as her hand came away dry. “I got to go to the restroom.” “Me too,” said Ami. “Um, I,” Bridget started to say. She wet her pull-up and didn’t really want Ami to know that she wet during the day too. Still Ami was following her. They went into the restroom together. Unfortunately it was a small two stall bathroom and the stalls had no doors. Bridget felt trapped. She could rip the pull-up off of her, but she still had to take off her blue jeans to put the clean pull-up on. Ami had already sat down and started peeing, so Bridget hurried to change. Taking her shoes off in a gross bathroom always disgusted her. She quickly put the new pull-up in place and started to pull up her jeans when Ami came out of the stall. Bridget’s face felt hot when she noticed Ami looking at the wet pull-up at her feet. “Are you okay, Angela?” Bridget finished pulling up her pants and then tied her shoes before picking up the wet pull-up and throwing it away. “I’m fine.” “Your nighttime problem seems to have become a daytime problem,” said Ami. She turned on the water and washed her hands. “Can we please change the subject?” The door opened and another woman entered the restroom. “Yeah, come on. Let’s finish eating.” They ate mostly in silence and didn’t say anything until they got to the car. ### Later that evening Bridget and Ami did their homework together. There was a lot, so Bridget did have a lot to finish the next day, but she knew which directions to go. She had never seen some of the math before and it was difficult. “I’m going to go down stairs and work in the lobby,” said Ami. “That means I will sit in front of the TV watching infomercials.” “Lovely,” said Bridget. “I don’t want to look at another physics problem. I am going to dream I am driving a truck on a frictionless road accelerating at 3 meters per second per second. How far do you think I’ll travel before morning?” Ami smiled. “Angela, you know I would make a smartass answer, but I don’t want to solve for distance.” “Slacker,” she said as she shut the door. She yawned and stretched. I think I’ll go to bed, she thought. Bridget slid out of her clothes and put on a clean diaper for bed. She pulled on a long T-shirt over it. She looked around for her shorts and found them in the laundry with a slight pee stain on them. Her diaper had started to leak the night before. She had to go to bed without them. ### Bridget did dream of kinematics. She kept trying to calculate over and over how to slow her tanker truck before it hit the school. When she bailed from the truck her physics professor was standing above her. “You could have stopped it if you were smart enough to figure out a simple physics problem.” She heard a terrible crash and felt herself peeing again. She opened her eyes in time to see Flower stumbling to then floor. She shielded the light with her arms and squinted across the room to see what the commotion was all about. “Ouch,” squealed Flower. The floor was covered with a box of spilt nails. They weren’t just picture-hanging nails; they were pretty big. A hammer lay on the floor beside Flower who was holding her foot. “That hurt dammit. I dropped a hammer on my foot.” “What are you doing with a hammer this time of night, Flower?” asked Bridget. She watched as Flower tried to scrape the nails together into a pile and put back into the box she spilled. “My uncle and I were doing a project together,” she said. Bridget’s pee muscles tried to release, but she had already emptied her bladder into her diaper. “Well I may as well tell you,” said Flower. “That forest they were going to cut down. Well, my uncle and I and another friend put nails in the trees to keep them safe from the loggers.” “You what?” asked Bridget. She got out of her bed and walked straight up to Flower and pushed her against her bed. “You know that when the loggers cut down the trees that their chainsaw blades will break?” Flower looked up at Bridget and then down at her hand that was twisted in the collar of her shirt. “So?” “So what do you think happens to the logger when the chainsaw blade brakes and flies back at him?” she yelled. “My best friend’s father died because some worthless hippy spiked a tree. Now I find out my own roommate is trying to murder more people.” Flower started crying. “I didn’t want to hurt anyone,” she sobbed. “I just wanted to protect the trees.” “At the expense of human life,” said Bridget. She released Flower and turned toward her closet. “Do you remember where you spiked the trees?” Flower reached into her pocket and pulled out a piece of paper with a Yahoo map on it. “We just did here.” She handed it to Bridget. The Yahoo map had the section of forest that was spiked marked in red marker. “We only got the West side of the forest done though.” She looked at Bridget’s diaper. “Why are you wearing a diaper?” Bridget looked down and noticed she wasn’t covered. She really hadn’t planned on letting Flower know about her wetting problem. “Don’t worry about that. You should be worried about how long you are going to spend in jail after one of your nails kills a lumberjack.” She found her jeans and pulled them on. Then she grabbed her car keys. “Well don’t tell anyone,” Flower whined. “I don’t want to go to jail.” She knelt down and continued to gather the nails scattered on the floor. “Maybe I should drop you off in the woods and make you pull all those nails you put into the trees,” said Bridget. “But how would we know we got them all?” asked Flower. “They are not made of shiny metal and it’s dark. I couldn’t even detect where I hit them in the tree.” “That’s it,” said Bridget. “Dave Matthews has a metal detector. We can find the nails with it.” She grabbed the hammer in one hand and yanked Flower out the door with the other hand. She handed her keys and the hammer to Flower. “Now go wait in my car.” ### Bridget crept up the stairs to the next floor and entered into the dark hallway. As she crept past the bathroom, she blushed. She hoped no boys had to get up in the night and use the bathroom. She didn’t want to run into anyone wearing only boxers. Finally she arrived at Dave Matthew’s door and knocked. There was no answer. She pounded on the door. “Open up Dave, I need to come in now,” she hissed. A groggy Dave came to the door. “Angela?” “Yes it’s me.” She forced her way past him into the dorm. “You aren’t supposed to be here after 10:00,” he said. “This is a guy’s floor.” “I know the rules,” she said. “This is important. I need your metal detector.” “But--” “Just for tonight.” “No,” he said. “It’s expensive. Where are you going with it?” She thought of Flower. She really didn’t want to go to jail. “I can’t tell you.” She slipped off her shirt, pushed her bra down, and took Dave’s hand and pressed them against her breasts. “Please.” “But--” “I would sleep with you if I had time and you weren’t grossed out be my bladder control problem.” She took his hands and started rubbing them on her breasts. “Sure,” he said. “But you have to pay for any damage you do to my metal detector and...” “And?” He pulled a hand away from her breast and slipped it toward the top of her pants. When his hand felt the top of her diaper, he stopped. “Ugh, nevermind.” She pulled her shirt back on while he turned to his closet and got the metal detector. It was in her hands. She also saw a crowbar leaning against the back of the closet. “I want that too,” she said. She left the dorms with those two items in hand.” ### “We’re here,” said Flower. “At least I think.” Bridget parked the car and the two girls got out. Bridget checked her watch. “It’s almost 4:00 am. We got to get this done quickly.” “Yeah, the lumberjacks come here at six,” said Flower. “I don’t want to get caught by them.” “Well than help me.” She swung the metal detector along the nearest tree trunk. As she raised it, it beeped. “Here is the first nail. Take it out.” Flower tugged at the nail with the claw of her hammer. She really had to strain, but she finally got it out. “This is hard,” she complained. Bridget swung the metal detector along the tree again. It beeped in a different place. “Serves you right. You should have thought of that before you spiked a tree.” She pointed at a nailhhead. “Take that one out. How many nails did you put in each tree?” “Depends on the tree.” They spend several hours pulling out the nails. Bridget had to help pull the nails. It was very tedious work, but the made process across the forest. They were at the last tree when Bridget felt a strong hand grab her from behind and clamp her mouth shut. She couldn’t make a sound, but she could still hear. A scurrying figure ran through the woods carrying Dave’s metal detector. She got into Bridget’s car and sped off. “Coward,” she thought. Flower had abandoned her hear with neither her car, nor Dave’s metal detector. Her captor dragged her backward away from the path where she had driven into the forest. ### “Look what I caught?” said her captor. He pushed her into the middle of a logging camp. A man with an axe across his knees stood up and frowned. “I caught me a tree spiker.” He held Dave’s crowbar and a handful of bent nails. “No, I’m not,” said Bridget. “There were two of them, but one got away.” “I’m not a tree spiker. I was pulling nails out of the trees, Bridget said. “Sure,” said another logger. “Hey let’s spike her to a tree.” Two of the loggers lifted her up and slammed her back against the trunk of a pretty solid pine tree. Another took one of the straighter spikes and pressed it in the fleshy bit beneath her left collar bone. He pulled the hammer back to strike. Bridget didn’t know what hit her first: the smell or the mushy feeling as her bowels emptied themselves into her diaper. She screamed when she saw the hammer start to come down. “Stop! What are you doing?” a voice yelled. She couldn’t see who it belonged to due to the glare of the flashlight he was holding. The hammer about to smash a nail into her shoulder stopped as the angry lumberjack looked behind him. “We caught this terrorist spiking trees.” He still had one hand holding her off her feet with her back against the tree. “So, we’ll call the police. We aren’t going to hurt people. We aren’t tree-spiking terrorists,” said the man with the flashlight. “I wasn’t spiking trees,” said Bridget. “I was pulling spikes out.” “Sure,” said another of the lumberjacks. He held up the Yahoo map she had taken from Flower. “She mapped the area she was spiking out. It looks like she covered the area we were going to cut in the morning.” “We had a friend die cutting a spiked tree,” said another wood cutter. He held up his chainsaw in a menacing manner. “Then you know why I had to stop it,” said Bridget. She grabbed at the strong arm holding her against a tree. “I found out they spiked the area earlier and I had to reverse the damage. My best friend in high school, Lia: well her father died because of some tree spiker. I didn’t want it to happen to anyone else.” “Angela, is that you?” asked the guy with the flashlight. “You know her?” asked the lumberjack who had almost spiked her to the tree and scared her so bad she shit in her diaper. “Yes, it’s me,” she said, “and I can prove I didn’t spike the trees. I brought a metal detector and a crowbar. I didn’t even have a hammer.” “I found a crowbar. I didn’t find a metal detector or a hammer for that matter,” said another lumberjack. “I found a bag of bent nails though.” “Yeah, I know her,” said the flashlight holding man. He stepped forward and Bridget saw that it was Derek Stevens. “She’s Lia’s friend that I went to prom with. You can put her down, Ogre.” When Ogre let her down her hands shot to the back of her pants. Her jeans covered up her diapers, but there was a big smelly bulge. She almost would rather be impaled to the tree that let Derek see her like this. Still, he came forward and took her by the arm. “Are you okay? You look really pale.” Then his nose wrinkled as the smell hit him. “I got really scared,” she whined. The tears began to flow. She had loved him at prom and now he saw how disgusting she could be. “Ogre, you made her shit her pants,” said Derek. “Go get her some coveralls or something to wear.” He took out a big red hankerchief and wiped her eyes. “Come on. I will try to get you somewhere to clean up and then Ogre will bring you some clean clothes.” She waddled beside him as he led her through the woods until they got to the logging camp. He led her straight through it and down toward the river. “You can clean up here and I will bring you your new clothes.” Bridget only stared at the slowly moving creek. “Do you need help?” Bridget shook her head and Derek started to walk away. He looked back and then started walking toward her again. “Angela, are you wearing a diaper?” This was not what she needed. She loved Derek ever since prom and she didn’t want to disappoint him. She just nodded. “I just need them for bed.” After getting another good whiff of herself she added. “I never poop my pants during the day. I was only wearing one out here in the woods because I found out about the tree spiking I had to stop at the last minute and I didn’t have time to change.” “It’s okay,” he said. “The diapers will be our secret.” She turned to thank him, but he had disappeared into the wood. She walked down to the water and peeled off her clothes. It wasn’t really that bad. Her jeans were just a bit stained from a little leak, but she had to take off the diaper. It was pretty disgusting. She got naked, rolled up the diaper and went down into the river. Being in the river was chilly at night. It was early September, but the water had come down from ice capped mountains and she shivered as soon as she stepped into the water. The desire to be clean instead of poopy overwhelmed her desire to be warm and she plunged in neck deep into the water and let the current wash her clean. She could see the pinkening of the sky as the sun began to rise and she that she was okay from the experience. She did see a bruise beginning on her sternum where Ogre held her against the tree, but that would cause no lasting damage. When she felt that she was clean again, she noticed footsteps. Derek came out of the woods carrying a bundle. “I’ll leave the stuff right here,” he said. He put down the bundle and picked up her dirty diaper and put it in a plastic bag and put her clothes in a different bag and took them away. Bridget crawled onto the river bank and grabbed the towel and dried herself. Then she slid on the coveralls, and pulled on her socks and shoes again. The coveralls were a bit baggy and smelled of sawdust, but that was better than smelling like poop. She wondered where to go next, but then Derek returned for her. “So here is the deal,” he said. “We got to cut those trees before the day ends. I can’t take you home until afterward.” “Sure that is fine. You got to let me help though. I really want to make the terrorist pay for what he’s done and cutting trees will work will be sure to make him mad.” “The terrorist? It sounds like you are talking about a particular person.” “I am,” said Bridget. “But you can’t say anything. He is mine. He ruined my life and I will make him pay.” Derek backed away a bit. So angry was her voice at the thought of the terrorist that she really didn’t realize what she looked like when she got into her rage against the killer. “Angela?” “Sorry, I am just taking it personal.” She paused. “Bridget got out.” Derek began to get worried. “Who is Bridget?” “You got to promise you will not tell anyone. I’ve told no one about this and you wondered at prom how I seemed to act so grown up.” “Yes, and I promise I can keep this quiet.” “Well, it is not like anyone will believe you if you repeat this, but I am not really Angela Murphy. In fact...” ### It was over an hour before they got back to camp. Chainsaws buzzed through the forest. She saw the tops of trees sway and then fall over, but she had to tell Derek everything. He had so many questions. “So will you help me take out Owl? I am not sure how I can fight him myself. Last time we struggled, well, innocent people got hurt.” “You keep blaming yourself and second guessing yourself,” he said. “No wonder you have nightmares and the unfortunate wetting issues.” “Yeah,” she said, “and did I mention that I piss my pants in fear every time I see the terrorist and he happens to be my roommate’s uncle?” “And when he gets his just desserts you can think you will stop wetting?” Bridget nodded. “Well, I will see what I can do to help you.” He looked around. “I liked Lia’s father and I want to make your terrorist pay.” The two walked out into the work area and Derek put her to work. She was given a chainsaw and told to cut the branches off the trees that had already been cut down. She smiled as Derek let her to do other work. Working in the timber industry was difficult. The branches were quite large, but the chainsaw easily cut through them. It took over an hour just to delimb one tree. By the time she started on the next tree, Ogre came up to her. He watched her work for a while. “You’re doing fine.” Bridget nodded. The large man still frightened her and it would probably take some time until she got the image of him trying to nail her to the tree. She continued to cut away the branches of the tree she was working on. “Well, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry.” He tried to look away, but then he looked at her again. “I mean you wouldn’t be helping us out if you were lying. Well I mean I am sorry I tried to hurt you and I am sorry I embarrassed you.” Bridget couldn’t stay angry. If she thought someone was working for the same people that were responsible for the death of Lia’s father, she would have attacked them. “I accept your apology,” she said. He seemed relieved and then he walked away. ### Derek was true to his word. It took a long time to cut the trees and get them ready for transport. It took even longer to get the logs loaded up on the logging trucks. The trucks also had to make sever trips. By the time they had finished, it was nine at night. “Thank you for helping us out,” said Derek. “We’ve been a bit short handed.” “No problem,” said Bridget. “Weren’t you supposed to be at MIT?” “Well, the instructor for one of my classes left and I will have to wait until next semester to take it, so I just am taking a semester off,” he said. “I came home to help my dad out.” “Oh.” Bridget smiles and held on to Derek’s hand. “I am glad you were here today.” He put her arm around Bridget. “I am glad you are here too, Angela.” He paused a moment and then frowned. “Or do you want me to call you Bridget?” Bridget thought for a minute. She had been used to going by Angela Murphy the past five months, but inside she was still the same woman who was victimized by the terrorist. Actually Angela was fighting back while Bridget was cowering in the cab of her truck letting the terrorist drive it into a school. “I’d better stick to being Angela. People might ask questions.” “Good.” He rubbed her back and let his hand slip down to her waist. “I am used to calling you Angela any way.” ### Bridget sat in the passenger seat of Derek’s pickup truck. She still wore the coveralls and in her lap she held the plastic bag that held her clothes. “So should I take you back to the dorm,” he asked her. Bridget thought for a minute. “I’d rather hear your plan for catching the terrorist.” “Well if you could get him to break into my house,” he said, “we could shoot him as a burglar.” “He’s an eco-terrorist, not a common crook,” said Bridget. “Yeah, you’re right,” said Derek. “I don’t know what I was thinking.” “Well, I still would like to discuss our plans,” said Bridget. “Well, how about you stay with me? I can wash your clothes and then take you home tomorrow.” “I’d like that,” she said. They continued driving. ### Bridget put on one of Derek’s button down shirts over a pair of shorts. It felt funny wearing shorts with no panties, but she trusted Derek. Or at least she decided she didn’t care it something did happen. She emerged from his bedroom and handed him the coveralls and her socks. “Ta-da. How do I look?” Derek took her dirty clothes and smiled. “You look very sexy.” Bridget looked down. The shirt came down well below her shorts. She did feel a bit sexy. “Sit down on the couch,” said Derek. “I am going to wash your clothes.” He left the room and Bridget just sat until he returned. ### They had been talking for over an hour. Derek’s hand had wandered up the leg of her shorts. She adjusted her position to accommodate his hand and she turned toward him with raised lips. He returned her kiss and he really was a good kisser. He gave the right amount of tongue, the right amount of pressure, and held her under for the right amount of time. His hand had found its way to pleasure her and she began to moan. She quivered in his arms and she felt incredible horny. “Take me,” she begged. “Shall we adjourn to the bedroom?” he asked. “Yes,” she said. She was so aroused she could barely walk. The shorts she wore were damp about her crotch and it wasn’t from pee. “Hurry,” she said. Derek carried her to the bedroom and lay her on the bed. The shirt came off and so did her shorts. He opened the door of the night stand and shuffled around inside. “What are you doing?” she asked. She wanted him to pay attention to her, not to something else, but she watched until he presented a condom which he held up with triumph. ### She lay with her head on his chest as he held her in bed. “I could lie down here like this all night,” said Derek. “I planned to put you up in a sleeping bag on the floor, but I’d rather you stay in bed with me.” Bridget smiled. She felt wonderful and really wanted to fall asleep in Derek’s arms. Still she remembered her night time problem. “Oh, Derek, I hate to put a damper on the night, but I don’t have my diapers. I am afraid I might wet the bed if I sleep here.” Derek frowned. “Oh, I forgot.” He felt the mattress and then put his arm around her. “I’m not worried. Just run to the bathroom now before we go to sleep.” Bridget did as she was told and returned to Derek’s arms were she fell asleep. She had had a long and strenuous day. She hoped she was too tired to dream. Bridget woke up screaming from her dream. It was getting worse, not better. Her plans for revenge against the terrorist and worries for how she would accomplish it combined with the memory of the tanker truck combined to make her nightmare worse than ever. She awoke in a puddle in a strange bed and looked around in a panic. Derek still lay asleep next to her. She felt the sheets between them and found to her horror that the wetness extended between them. “Oh crap.” She never had anything like this happen to her. Every time she had wet the bed before, she had been alone. She never had shared something like this with a boyfriend. She was sure he would react in horror. Derek stirred and then frowned when he noticed the puddle. “I’m sorry,” said Bridget. He scooted next to her and put an arm around her. “Well, it’s not like you didn’t warn me,” he said. He looked down at the puddle. “Well, we may as well get up.” Bridget got out of the bed and looked down at herself. The white shirt she borrowed from Derek was yellowed around the bottom. She glanced at Derek and blushed. “I’ll take care of the bedding while you take a shower,” he said. He started sweeping up the sheets from the bed and threw them in a basket. Bridget blushed when Derek removed the sheets and she saw the wet spot on the mattress pad. “Don’t worry,” he said. “It will clean up.” He waved his arm toward the door. “Now go; shower.” He smiled. Bridget turned and headed toward the bathroom. She unbuttoned Derek’s shirt and dropped her borrowed shorts to the floor and stepped in the shower. She turned on the water and let it run over her shoulders. As she scrubbed herself clean and soaped herself, she thought about how nice Derek seemed nice about the wet bed, but wasn’t sure how long he would want to put up with her bedwetting. Even when she came prepared with her night time protection when she slept over next time. But as long as he did she was happy that he seemed to like her. When she got out to dry herself, she noticed that her clothes from yesterday. Derek must have come in and laid them out for her when he got her soiled nice clothes. She smiled as she reached for the clothes and put them to her nose. The smelled fresh from the detergent he used to wash them the night before. There would be no walk of shame this morning for her. She dressed. It felt funny not wearing any underwear. She hadn’t had time to put on a bra when she left Friday night and she had just pulled her jeans on over her diaper. Now she just had her bare skin against the jeans and she hoped she didn’t have another accident. Derek was making the bed with fresh sheets when she returned from the bathroom. She went to the bed and patted the middle with her hand. “It’s dry,” he said. “It didn’t soak through the mattress pad. It’s waterproof.” He put his arm around her and gave her a kiss. “Why did you have a waterproof mattress pad?” asked Bridget. “I bought it by mistake,” he smiled. The mattress pad had looked cloth and there was no evidence of any plastic on it. “It turned out to be a happy mistake, especially if you stay over more often.” Bridget’s face burned with embarrassment. “I’m sure you won’t be wanting to do washing every time I stay over.” “Well, no,” he admitted. “Maybe you could wear a diaper like you had when I found you in the woods.” Bridget felt herself blush again. Her face felt so hot that she thought it might melt. The thought of Derek seeing her, of smelling her, wearing a shitty diaper was too much. “Not just like that,” she said. He kissed her. “You want some breakfast?” She held on to him and returned the kiss, adding more tongue. “Not just yet,” she breathed when she finally got her breath. She pulled him on top of her when she fell back onto the bed. ### When they finished, her jeans had a slippery wet spot on them about the size of a saucer. She blushed. It wasn’t pee and it didn’t stain her jeans. It just felt uncomfortable. “I think it’s cute,” said Derek. She stuck out her tongue. “You would.” She followed him down the stairs to the kitchen and took a seat in one of the chairs. “I’ll cook for you,” he said. He opened a box of Pop Tarts and put them in the toaster and then joined her in the next chair. “Do you want to stay over again?” “Umm.” “I thought of a way to get the terrorist to break into the place I’ve been fixing up.” “Oh?” said Bridget. “I got some land,” he said. “There is a cute little farm house and some sheds. It used to be a fur farm. If we can convince the terrorist it is full of furry animals awaiting slaughter, he will probably try to raid the place.” “Then,” said Bridget, “he is burglarizing the place and we can claim self defense when we get him.” “Yes,” said Derek. “Do you have a gun I can borrow?” she asked. “Angela,” he looked at her sternly. “He ruined my life more. I get to do it.” “Yeah, there is a revolver in my night stand.” He looked like he was reluctant about the whole thing. “Cool,” she said. “You’ll need to teach me to shoot it. I am a little rusty since I haven’t shot a gun for years and never a revolver.” “Maybe this is a bad idea,” said Derek. “The terrorist killed children and I was blamed for it,” she said. “You don’t think it would do me any good to go to the police and tell them everything? If they believed me, I would go back to jail. If they didn’t, well it wouldn’t stop the terrorist either.” Derek sighed. “Well let’s think about pleasant things until we have to take you back home.” He pulled her in for a kiss. ### Bridget knocked on the door to her dorm room. Her keys were on her key ring and Flower had stolen it along with her car. She knocked again and Flower opened the door. “Angela?” “Yes, it’s me.” She pushed past her and entered her room. “What did you think you were doing leaving me like that?” Flower looked down. “Well, I--” “Well, I nothing. What happened to my car? What happened to my keys? What happened to Dave Matthews’ metal detector?” “I parked your car in the parking lot.” She handed me the keys. “Dave came by for the metal detector and I gave it back to him. What happened? What did they do to you?” “Oh good. I don’t want Dave to be mad at me,” Bridget said. “So how did you get away from the lumberjacks?” asked Flower. “I didn’t,” she said. That was the truth, but she wanted to work on Flower’s guilty conscious. “They turned me over to the police and my parents had to come get me. They are not happy with me either. My dad almost pulled me out of college.” “I’m so sorry,” said Flower. “Maybe you will think about the consequences of committing crimes, even if it is for something like saving trees.” Bridget angrily turned into her closet and got out a clean outfit. “What are they charging you with?” asked Flower. “They agreed to drop the charges since it didn’t look like I had gotten to any tree to spike it yet. It was good I got all the nails out before they caught us.” Bridget thought she had better give Flower a reprieve. She couldn’t spook her too much or else her plan to get the terrorist wouldn’t work. “Why were you wearing a diaper?” asked Flower. “I have bad dreams and it makes me wet the bed.” She gave Flower a stern look. “You will not repeat this to anyone.” “I promise.” “A wet diaper did not endear me to either the lumberjacks or the other inmates in the lockup.” “I’m so sorry,” said Flower. “That must have been so embarrassing. I’ll do anything to make it up to you.” Bridget smiled. She thought about all the things she could do to Flower. Should she put her on a bacon diet? Make her stand there and wet her pants in front of Bridget, or better yet make her poop herself like Bridget had done Friday night? “I’ll think about how you can make things up to me. Until then, just keep the diapers a secret.” “I can do that, I think,” said Flower. “You’d better,” said Bridget. ### Bridget had been napping when she heard a knock at her door. She got up and threw on some shorts over her diaper and answered the door. It was Derek. “Oh hi,” she said and gave him a peck on the cheek. He returned her kiss with a full smooch and his hand reached behind her to pat her on the butt. His hand quickly sprang away when he felt something crinkle, but then he returned his hand to her bottom, this time beneath her shorts. Her door was wide open and she heard voices coming down the hallway. “Derek, stop,” she said. “Someone’s coming.” He made an oh expression of understanding and let go of her. He reached out into the hall and picked up the crowbar she had borrowed from Dave. “I thought I would return your crowbar.” He walked in and shut the door. “Thanks,” she said. “I had borrowed it.” “Well now that I am here....” He took her by the hand and sat on her bed and she sat next to him. They kissed. He seemed to have an interest in her diaper, so she finally gave up batting his had away. “I think they make you look adorable,” he said. “So your reason for liking me is not that I seem grown up anymore. It is now that I am childish.” Bridget frowned at him. “That is not it at all,” he said. He left her diaper alone and concentrated on what was under her shirt. “Is his better?” “Much,” she said. “I was taking a nap. That why I was diapered.” “I know. It’s the bad dreams. I don’t blame you at all.” He release her breast and straightened her shirt and just held her in his arms. “I am content for now,” said Bridget as she lay her head back against his shoulder. They talked for a few minutes until Flower came in the door. “Hey,” she said. “It’s almost 10:00. No guys allowed after 10:00.” She took a look at Derek’s thick arms and blushed. “Well you got about five minutes yet. Who is the hunk?” “Well this is Derek. He was my prom date. We just reconnected today.” Bridget smiled since she was in Derek’s arms. “Well, I got to get up early for work. Boss wants the stuff ready for a new shipment.” “Well call me,” Bridget said. After Derek left, Bridget pulled out her phone and called Dave Matthews. “Meet me downstairs. We got to talk.” ### Bridget went down to the lobby and waited crowbar in hand. “You wanted to see me?” he asked. “I just wanted to make sure you got your metal detector back okay,” she said. “I am sorry I didn’t get it back to you personally, but it was literally a matter of life or death. I returned it to my dorm room when I finished with it and was going to bring it to you as soon as I got back.” “I got it from your roommate,” he said. “Did you find anything with it?” “A bunch of bent nails.” “I am sorry that is all you found.” “I’m not,” said Bridget. “If I didn’t find those nails I am afraid someone would have gotten hurt.” “Well, okay,” he said. He sounded confused. “Oh, here is your crowbar.” “Good,” he said. “Flower didn’t know anything about it.” He took the crowbar from her. “If you need to borrow anything again, let me know if I can help. Maybe we could have found better things if I had gone with you.” “You sure my incontinence problem won’t bother you?” asked Bridget. “I meant as friends, Angela.” “I know you wanted more until you saw my pull-up fall out of my purse,” said Bridget. “I went home and cried.” “Angela,” he said, “I’m sorry, but aren’t you glad I found out before I asked you, than have me break up with you when I did find out. I do like you as friends and I don’t want to lose that.” “Well it doesn’t matter, I suppose,” she said. “I met a guy this weekend and he is my boyfriend now.” “Does he know about...?” “Yes he knows,” said Bridget, “but he likes me for who I am, not what I wear.” “Well, I am happy for you,” said Dave. “I am sorry about hurting your feelings.” “I am happy being friends with you, Dave. You saved my life by lending me the metal detector. I need to go to bed. Class is in the morning.” “Well goodnight.” She was already walking away toward the elevators. Soon the terrorist would not invade her dreams and she would wake up dry again. Flower carried the laundry baskets into the dorm room. “I got your laundry done.” She set the basket next to Bridget’s bed. Bridget looked up from her physics homework. “Thank you Flower.” “How long do I have to do your laundry until we are even?” she asked. “You volunteered to do my laundry,” said Bridget. “It is hardly a hardship compared to me going to jail for trying to keep you from facing a murder rap.” Asking Flower to do laundry once was the only time she took up the offer for Flower to make her experience up to her. Flower froze and a look of worry covered your face. “Anything else you want me to do?” “No,” said Bridget. She got stuck on a particular physics question and folded her assignment into her book. “I am going to go study with Ami now. If you want to join us you can.” “No,” said Flower. “I think Anise is coming over to study soon.” Bridget shivered. That Anise was creepy. She got up and left the dorm to meet with Ami. ### “So Ami,” said Bridget as the two sat in the library. “An object accelerates from rest on an inclined plane. The coefficient of friction is 0.23. How long does it take to get to the bottom?” “You got to add all your forces,” said Ami. “But I never did a friction problem before,” Bridget said. “Just multiply it to the mass and acceleration.” “Oh, duh,” said Bridget. She had done this many years before the first time she was in college. She should have remembered. If physics wasn’t so hard she would have remembered. She quickly figured out the problem and looked in the back of the book to make sure her answer matched what she got. “Anise is driving me nuts,” said Ami. “It’s not just the music anymore either. I walked in on her having sex.” “Eww,” said Bridget. “That’s not the worst of it,” she said. “I thought she was having a Lesbian moment because the person she was with had dyed black pigtails.” “Really?” “Well it turned out I just thought he was a girl. I never saw someone try to pull up their skinny jeans so awkwardly. He had to sit down for quite a bit before he could zip his pants.” “Ick, Ami.” Bridget covered her eyes. “Need mind bleach.” “It was pretty gross. So what are you doing this weekend?” “My new boyfriend and I are panting his new place,” said Bridget. “Cool,” said Ami. “You mind if help?” “Well I guess you can help.” She thought about Flower. If Flower knew where her boyfriend’s farm was, she might get suspicious when they were ready to set the trap. “You just can’t tell Flower. I really want a place where I can get away from her.” “Good point,” said Ami. “I wish I had a place to get away from Anise.” “I said you could come to my dorm room anytime she gets to you.” She frowned when she thought about the growing friendship between Flower and Anise. She had come home to Anise and Flower studying together.” “So did you tell your new boyfriend about your nighttime problem?” asked Ami. “I don’t know how I would broach the subject.” “He knows.” Bridget felt her face flush with warmth. “I didn’t tell him; he found out on his own.” “From the redness of your face, that must have been embarrassing.” Bridget nodded. “At least he was cool about it: especially when I ran out and he encouraged me to stay the night anyway. Talk about embarrassing.” Ami’s mouth opened in shock. “You didn’t pee on him in bed?” Bridget felt her face turn red again and nodded. “Well he is a keeper if he kept you after that.” “Thanks,” said Bridget. She did wonder how long he would put up with her. ### It was warm outside. Bridget dipped her brush in the paint and brushed it on the bare wood of the fence. The fence around the compound had decayed in places, but Derek had repaired it with new wood. “This place is pretty cool,” said Ami. “Thanks for letting me come along.” “No problem,” she said. “Derek and I had a lot of work to do to get this place in shape.” “How is the painting coming along,” asked Derek. “It’s coming,” said Bridget. “Well thanks for doing this Angela.” He turned to Ami. “And thank you Angela’s friend.” “No problem,” said Ami. “I’m just happy to see Angela with someone. She had an unhappy experience a few weeks ago when a guy found about her...” “Ami!” said Bridget. “Don’t go there.” “I like her anyway,” said Derek. “Besides she can’t help it.” “I’m right here,” said Bridget. “I know,” said Derek. He stood behind her and wrapped his strong lumberjack arms around her. “She’s a keeper,” he said to Ami. Bridget leaned back against Derek and he tightened his grip on her. “How long do you think it will take before we are ready?” Bridget asked. The sheds still needed paint. Derek had spent the morning scraping the old paint off. It was pretty much down to the bare wood. “A few more weeks I think,” he said. “We do need to paint the sheds today before we can call it a day.” “Well, let’s get started,” said Ami. The sheds were not really that tall. Ami and Bridget were able to paint all the way up to the eves without a latter. The ends of the sheds were different. The highest point in the shed was about twelve feet tall. Derek got on a ladder and painted that part. When they finally finished, Bridget was starved. “I’m hungry,” she said. “Yeah, we skipped lunch,” said Derek, “but I will make it up to you and take you both out to eat.” “Cool,” said Ami. “I’m thinking Mexican,” said Bridget. “What do you think of Rancho Viejo?” asked Derek. “Good enough,” she said. ### The server brought them their plates and Bridget smiled. “Ooh, I can’t wait to eat this.” “Looks good to me too, Angela,” said Ami. She stuck her fork in her burrito and it was so hot that steam came out from where it was opened. “I’d wait a bit to take a bite there, Ami,” said Derek. “It looks hot.” “I think I can handle it. Thai food gets hotter and I eat that a lot,” said Ami. “Temperature, not spiciness,” said Bridget. “Oh.” Ami blew on her burrito and then frowned. “Thanks. I would have hated to discover that after I put it in my mouth.” The meals cooled and they were able to eat them before too long. “So what is next on the agenda today?” asked Bridget. “Well we got to visit that farm and look around. Also, weren’t you going to paint the sign?” asked Derek. “Yeah,” said Bridget. “I have the perfect logo planned.” “What is the sign for?” asked Ami. “We were going to give the place a cute whimsical feel,” said Bridget. The last thing she wanted anyone to find out about was the sign. The plan called for burning the sign as soon as she had taken down the terrorist. The last thing she needed was for the police to find out they had lured the terrorist there. “There might be questions that would take her actions out of the realm of self defense. She wouldn’t let that stop her. Owl was the terrorist who crashed her tanker truck into a school. He had to pay. “I always thought signs on farms that aren’t really farms are kind of kitschy,” said Ami. “Maybe the sign isn’t a good idea after all,” said Derek. He took her hand and squeezed it.” “I guess,” she said and pouted. “I just have to decorate all the other rooms in the farmhouse with kitsch.” She smiled. “Maybe put one of those old-women-bending-over decorations in the garden. How does that sound?” Ami shook her head. “What are you like forty?” she asked. Bridget panicked. She was in her forties now that she thought about it. Still, Angela’s body was still nineteen years old. “What do you mean?” she asked. “How old do I look?” She started to shake. She skipped the pull-up because she didn’t anticipate seeing the terrorist and she was wearing sexy new panties for Derek. She started to wet herself. “I mean, my mother likes that kitsch.” “Oh,” said Bridget. She managed to stop peeing, but wasn’t sure she was still dry. She had to pee even worse now that she had let some out. “Excuse me.” She got up and hurried to the bathroom. The whole time she was careful to keep her butt pointed away from the center of the dining room. When she looked in the mirror, her butt was soaked. There was a wet spot the size of a luncheon plate. She sighed. It could have been worse. She went to a stall and sat down. She wonder what to do. She left all her clothes at Derek’s farm. They had come here in Ami’s little red car. Maybe she had clothes though. Bridget always kept a change of clothes in the trunk of her Ford Crown Vic, but that was too far away. At least the jeans were black. She finished peeing and examined her red and white checked lacy panties that matched her red and white checked lacy bra. Hopefully it would dry before Derek began to feel playful. She sprayed a bit of perfume in the crotch of her panties so she wouldn’t smell bad, but she was pretty wet despite soaking most of it up with toilet paper. She emerged from the bathroom and returned to Ami and Derek. Fortunately they were finished and Derek was just paying the check. ### “See you, Ami,” said Bridget as she left in her own car. She shivered. Her peed jeans were starting to get cold. Fortunately she was able to climb into Derek’s warm pick-up. It was hot all day so her pants would probably dry in no time. Eastern Washington was almost a desert. They drove along for quite some time. Bridget kept stealing chances to brush the denim material around her crotch and bottom. She was getting dryer and dryer as they drove along. Finally they pulled into a place that said, “Maryland Albright Fur Farm.” They got out. Bridget noticed one thing right away. There were rows upon rows of long sheds instead of only two like Derek’s farm had. Also there were the sounds. “What is making that horrible noise,” she asked. A woman with two men on either side came out of the shed. “What can we do for you?” They didn’t look very friendly. One of the men had a pitch fork and she could see the other had a lump at his underarm that was probably a concealed handgun. “I’m Derek Stevens,” he said. “I thought I was expected.” Her demeanor changed immediately. She smiled and extended a hand. “I am Maryland Albright,” she said. She waved off the men. “We didn’t know who you were. If we didn’t guard this place twenty-four seven, then some fools might come and let all the animals out of their cages.” “I understand,” said Bridget. “We got sent a death threat and we hadn’t even got out starting shipment yet.” She spit on the ground. “We just put up our shingle and wham: we were instantly swarmed but eco-nuts.” “You two are awfully young to start out a new farm,” the lady said. “Well I inherited 100 mink from a distant uncle,” said Derek. “I thought I would give it a go.” “Well, that will make two coats,” said the lady. “We are just starting out,” said Bridget. “Derek said that you promised to show us the ropes.” “Sure. Follow me.” True to her word, the woman showed them everything. The sounds were unbearable. The mink screeched and shuffled in their cages. They could even hear the mink outside the sheds. Bridget grabbed Derek by the shirt and whispered, “Give me your iPhone.” He handed it to her. “I ask that you not take pictures in here,” the lady said. “I’m not,” said Bridget. “I just got a text from a friend.” She tapped a few keys and turned on the sound recorder before slipping the phone in her purse. At the end of the tour they got to see where they killed the mink. There was blood everywhere. She got to see a device in action that shocked the mink to death. A machine next to it skinned the mink. She recognized the electrocution machine from the shed. The one in Derek’s farm was rusted and old, while this one was brand new. She felt sick to her stomach. Sure, the mink were just animals, but she didn’t want to watch them die. The whole purpose of this tour was to find out if there were details she was lacking in setting her trap. The sound was something she hadn’t thought about that was an important detail. She hadn’t thought about the blood either, but that wasn’t something she wanted or even needed to duplicate. “Derek, can we go?” she said. “You haven’t seen how we tan and clean the hides,” said the lady. “You need to know that part if you are going to be successful in this business.” “Go to the truck,” he said. “I’ll learn the rest of what we need to learn.” Bridget left and finally made it to the truck. She sat and waited for Derek for another couple of hours. ### “Well thank you, Maryland, for showing us the ropes. Sorry about my fiancé. She’s a bit squeamish.” “No problem, kid,” she said to Derek. “She’ll get used to it after awhile.” “No, I won’t,” said Bridget when Derek got into the truck. “You won’t, what?” “Get used to it. Intellectually I knew they killed the mink for fur. Mink are mean things too, so I have no sympathy for them, but I didn’t know there was all that blood and I didn’t imagine that mink were killed like they did.” He pulled the truck onto the highway and they took off back to his place. “You want to forget this and come up with another plan?” “No, we got what we need,” said Bridget. The recording of live mink was all they needed to bait the trap. Bridget had saved that on his iPhone. They would be ready. “If you’re okay with it,” he said. “I’m fine. You just have to stop somewhere soon because I got to pee.” “You didn’t go at the farm?” he asked. “No,” said Bridget. “You were with me the whole time until I went back to the truck.” “Well I went after that.” “Jerk,” she said. “I didn’t say we weren’t stopping,” said Derek. “You better stop.” He pulled into the next gas station and Bridget ran into the bathroom. She couldn’t help thinking he was turned on by her predicament. ### The two finally arrived back at Derek’s house. “Are you spending the night?” he asked. Bridget nodded nervously. The last time had been a disaster, but he had been night about the wet bed. This time she had brought diapers, but that was a different thing. She had also brought her own pajamas to wear to bed. She thought they would play it by ear. “Good,” he said. “How about I give you some ice cream?” He left her in the living room while he went to the kitchen. Soon Derek had returned with the ice cream. “I thought you would like mint chocolate chip.” He brought the two bowls and set them on the coffee table. The two sat at the love seat. “Do you think our plan will work?” she asked Derek. He nodded. “You have nothing to worry about.” He put an arm around her. Bridget took a bite of her ice cream. “This is my favorite ice cream. All it is missing is some pie.” Derek put a hand over her stomach. It was flat and smooth. “Well, you have room for pie. Unfortunately, I don’t have any.” She knew her own stomach as Bridget Addison hadn’t been that smooth. At least with the younger body she could eat better. However, she found herself full much quicker since becoming Angela. She knew she would probably too full for pie anyway after she finished the ice cream. The being young again was the only advantage of this whole situation. She felt the guilt come back over stealing the youth from Angela. She reached under his shirt and put her hand on his six pack. At least he had a job with exercise. That might change when he finished school and took an engineering job. She hoped not, but she also hoped she was not so superficial that something like that would matter. Besides, she would not stay young forever. Angela would eventually grow older. She didn’t know how they ever concentrated on finishing their ice cream, but as soon as the bowls were empty their arms were around each other and their mouths were too busily intertwined to talk. Bridget reached up and unbuttoned Derek’s shirt and slid it off his shoulders. At the same time she felt her pants being unzipped and she lifted her but to ease the removal of her pants. “Did you have an accident earlier?” he asked. She looked down. Her panties, although dry, were stained yellow. She felt tears well up in her eyes. Had she finally grossed him out. “Yes,” she admitted. “It was in the restaurant at lunch.” “Why didn’t you say something earlier? You could have changed into something more comfortable.” His arms were around her. He pulled up her t-shirt, exposing her breasts, and dried her tears with the corner. “Are you sure you want someone like me, Derek?” It was one thing wetting at night. She probably should have worn the pull-ups for daytime, but she hadn’t because she wanted to wear her matching bra and panties for Derek. “Because you wet your pants earlier?” he asked. Bridget nodded and bit her lip in anticipation of what he was going to say. Derek held her tightly in his arms. She shivered slightly as she sat on his lap in her underwear. Her pants were pulled down so her panties were completely exposed. “I can’t say that the daytime accidents thrilled me,” he said, “but I am more worried about how bad they make you feel.” He squeezed her tightly. “I am not letting you go over something like this.” She had both hands around his neck, but she squeezed tightly. Then she leaned back and separated her legs slightly as Derek’s hand slipped inside her slightly damp panties. ### She moaned in short little bursts and thrashed as she came, then her body relaxed in Derek’s arms. “Hold me,” she said. She relaxed as he held her close until her breathing returned to normal. “You got a long day tomorrow finishing your sign and setting up,” he said. “How about we take showers and we go to bed.” “Yeah,” she said, “I got homework too.” She reluctantly disengaged from Derek and picked up her clothes from the floor before walking upstairs naked to the shower. The hot water cleaned the sweat, dry pee, and cum from her body. She scrubbed until she knew her skin was clean. Then she got out of the shower and dried off. She pulled a diaper from her bag and put it on. A t-shirt went over that. The she looked in the mirror. Her diaper stuck out obviously from the bottom of her t-shirt. She had thought the shirt would cover it. Well maybe if she hurried and got under the covers. She left the bathroom and headed to the bedroom. Derek was already there in boxer shorts. His wet hair showed he had showered in the other bathroom. She just peeked around corner and she felt her face heat up with more embarrassment. “Well come on in,” he said. Bridget pulled the front of her shirt down the best she could as she entered the bedroom. She looked down at her feet. Derek had felt her diapers in her dorm room, but this was the first time she had been in front of him with her diapers not covered by shorts or anything. He got up and pulled her gently toward the bed. “You know, I think it’s cute.” “Really,” asked Bridget. “Yeah.” “You don’t think I am a big disgusting baby?” She looked into his eyes and then glanced down at the bulge in his boxers. “Are you turned on by me being dressed like this?” “A little. I am more turned on by how shy and embarrassed you are.” He hopped in bed and pulled the blankets up to make room for her. She hopped in beside him and let him spoon her. “Okay,” he said. “No nightmares because I have you in my arms.” ### No nightmares was optimistic. Owl invaded her sleep. The whole plan went off as planned until it became time to act. The gun, which she held in her hand, refused to go off as she tried to shoot the terrorist. He then got away and the lights went out. As she was looking for him he found her first. Arms reached out of the darkness and grabbed her around the waist. She struggled. “I got you know and you are going to pay,” said Owl. He let go with one hand and grabbed a knife and pulled it across her neck. “You won’t be bothering me anymore.” She tried to scream, but no sound came out of her mouth. The only muscle that moved was her bladder muscles releasing her pee into her diaper. “Don’t worry; it’s me,” said Derek. “It was only a dream.” Bridget woke covered with a layer of sweat. Her diaper was warm about her middle and she knew it was wet.” It was still dark in the room and night time, but Derek was there. “So what happens now?” he asked. “Do you need me to change you or do you just wait until morning.” Bridget felt her diaper. She was in no danger of leaking, but she didn’t want Derek to be grossed out by her wet diaper. “I’d rather you just hold me until I get back to sleep, but I will defer to your wishes if you’d rather I change.” His arms held her as they lay intertwined. His hand pressed against the still warm crotch of her diaper. Then it settled around her waist. They drifted off to sleep. ### Bridget smiled as she drew the cartoon characters on the sign. A smiling anthropomorphic mink stood beside a smiling anthropomorphic rabbit. The mink was dressed in rabbit skins and the rabbit wore a mink coat. She lettered below it, “The Cuddly Creatures Fur Farm.” “I like it,” said Derek. “I needed something light and happy after yesterday,” she said. She wasn’t one to think about where things came from. Fur coats came from expensive stores on Rodeo Drive. Besides real minks were mean and they hissed. “Was it something about us?” asked Derek. “No, it was the other fur farm,” she said. “It was too much, like taking a tour of a sausage factory. I don’t want to see how it is done.” “Understood,” he said. “I think your picture is pretty good.” “Now how do we get the terrorist to attack us?” she asked. “I have the perfect plan,” said Derek. “I think Ogre has the perfect costume for this. I will have to check his schedule.” Bridget woke up in her dorm room from her usual nightmare. She screamed before realizing she was inside her dorm. “Enough already,” said Flower. “Every morning for two almost two months, you have been waking me up with screaming. I am sick of it.” Bridget sat up in bed. “I’m sorry,” she moaned, as she started to get up. Since Flower now knew about the diapers, she didn’t bother covering them. She turned back to Flower. “You know what?” she asked. Her voice had an angry edge to it. I am sick of it too. I am also sick of wetting the bed every single night because my dreams are so horrible and so intense because of an event that happened in my life years ago.” “That does sound horrible,” said Flower. “Maybe you need to relax more.” “That’d be nice except we are engineering students,” said Bridget. “Well it is Saturday and I am going back to sleep,” said Flower. “I have a party to go to.” “I’m going to try to get up. I’ll take a nap later.” Bridget sighed when she looked down at her wet diaper. It had been over a month since she and Derek had set up their fake fur farm and Bridget had yet to get close enough to the terrorist to dangle the bait in his face. Flower hadn’t even mentioned her uncle. In fact it was going to be the first of November tomorrow, which meant today was Halloween. “Oh crap,” she said. “I’m going to need a costume.” “Yeah, I got mine last month,” said Flower. “It is really me. What are you going as? We did get invited to the party a Sigma Nu.” “I’ll think of something,” she said. “Good,” said Flower, “then maybe I can sleep in a bit.” ### “So Ami,” said Bridget. “I need a costume. Let’s go shopping at Goodwill.” “Sure,” said Ami. “but do you really think that a thrift store would have Halloween costumes?” “Why not?” asked Bridget. “Well don’t they just sell old stuff?” “Yeah,” said Bridget. “You’d be surprised all the stuff that you can make costumes out of at a thrift store.” Ami and Bridget got into her black Crown Vic and Bridget drove to the nearest thrift store. They walked in and looked around. “I’ve never been to one of these,” said Ami. She looked around at all the racks of clothing and shelves full of used merchandise. She pointed. “Look. A computer graveyard.” “You never went to a place like this?” “Nope. My mother taught me to buy new at a department store.” “Well we got to educate you. Come on look at all this stuff.” Bridget skipped down the aisles to the women’s accessories and started picking up and modeling purses. “Should I go as a bag lady?” Ami giggled. She picked up a pair of boots. “Oh cool. Hooker boots. I can go to the party dressed as a hooker.” “There is the spirit. But are you sure you want to dress like a hooker?” “Or I could dress emo?” “Please don’t,” said Bridget. “Yeah. One Anise is more than enough.” Bridget looked on a table and saw something catch her eye. “Oh, cool,” she said. She picked up a cap and put it on. “I used to have a Chevron hat just like this when I--” She cut herself off just in time. “When you what?” asked Ami. “When I lived near a Chevron,” she finished. “You wore a Chevron trucker hat?” asked Ami. “Well, yeah,” she said. She really did wear the Chevron hat when she drove her tanker truck. She decided not to mention that to Ami. “Well I am board and I want to go,” said Ami. “I am a store-bought costume type of gal.” “Hold on,” said Bridget. “Let’s look at those computers.” “Fine,” said Ami. The computers were junk. There was not a single computer there that looked like it would run Linux on just to experiment, let alone find a use to justify its space. “You were right. I see nothing here.” “Now can we go?” “Wait.” A familiar black box caught her eye. One of the staff had put a Cobra CB radio with the computers. She had had a model like that. It was a rather expensive radio, but the price only read $10.00. She picked it up. “I’m getting this.” “What is it?” “It’s a CB radio,” she said, “and it’s a steal.” She walked back, picked up the trucker hat, and then walked down the aisle to find a flannel shirt. “What is all this stuff?” asked Ami. “My costume. I am going as a sexy trucker.” She laid the stuff on the counter and paid. “Finally we can go to a real costume shop,” said Ami. ### The costume shop at the mall was crowded. Still Ami wanted to look. “I’ll meet you in the car,” said Bridget. She left and went to Radio Shack and bought a CB antenna. The sales person gave her a funny look, but she ignored him. She couldn’t wait to rush out to her car. When she got to the parking lot she hooked up the antenna. Since her car was a former police car, it already had a place to mount it. She wired it in there and then fished the wire under the carpet of her car toward the driver’s seat. It was just a matter of time before she got the CB radio mounted underneath the instrument panel of her car. By the time she finished, Ami came back and got in the car. She had a bag from the Halloween store. “What costume did you decide on?” “I will reveal all at the party,” said Ami,” but not until then.” “Fine.” “So what did you do? You seem pretty excited.” “Watch.” Bridget flipped the switch on her CB and turned it to channel 19. All the sudden she could hear truckers talking inside her car. “Truckers?” asked Ami. “Yeah. I got to learn the lingo since I am going as a sexy trucker.” Bridget smiled. She missed talking on the CB the way she used to when she drove a truck. They pulled on the road and Bridget started driving. “This is a side of you I haven’t seen before,” said Ami. “Well, if a costume is worth wearing, it is worth learning the part,” said Bridget. “Whatever.” Bridget pulled up behind a UPS semi truck going at a slow rate of speed. She picked up her CB mike and keyed it. “Breaker 1-9, Buster Brown, I’m knocking at your back door trying to get around.” “Go ahead, four wheeler.” Bridget pulled around the truck and smiled. She watched as Ami waved at the driver. Ami turned back to her. “You need to learn the lingo?” She raised her eyebrows and gave her a skeptical look. “Sounds like you knew the lingo ahead of time.” “Well, I watched Convoy and Smokey and the Bandit.” “I know Smokey and the Bandit,” said Ami. “Burt Reynolds was a hottie. Never heard of Convoy though.” “Convoy is another trucker movie.” “I thought so,” said Ami. Bridget pulled into the campus and parked her vehicle. “Well, we are here. Come get me before you go to the party.” Ami got her stuff and started to leave. “I’ll do that.” Bridget was excited about the party. She smiled and got her bag of stuff from good will. She looked in the car and looked at the CB. She disconnected the microphone and brought it in with her. ### At about eight that evening there was a knock at the door. “They’re here,” said Flower. She grabbed her headband and tied it on under her chin. There were petals around the headband and chin strap, which combined with her green dress, made her look like a gigantic flower. She then pulled on large foam gloves in the shape of leaves and then went to open the door. Of course she had to remove one of her gloves to manipulate the door knob. Bridget giggled at Flower’s effort. At least her sexy trucker outfit was cumbersome to walk around in. “What’s so funny,” demanded Ami as she walked into the room. She was dressed only in a flesh-toned body suit and a long blond wig. “I’m not really naked.” “No,” she said, “it’s Flower. She had giant leaf hands and can’t hold anything.” Flower waved her leaf hands and struck a pose like a flower. “So who are you supposed to be?” “Well I am Lady Godiva,” she said. “Don’t you read?” She twirled around. “I am lucky I got some sun this summer because the flesh-toned body suits don’t come in yellow.” She smiled. “I think you mean they don’t come in pale white,” said Flower. “Yeah?” said Ami. “It doesn’t matter if I am pure white or tanned. The other Asian students think I am not one of them because I am ABC.” “ABC?” asked Bridget. “American Born Chinese.” She waved her hands. “Who needs them? Let’s find some frat boys.” Bridget donned her trucker hat and picked up her CB mike. “Yeah. Let’s get truckin’.” She opened the door. “Hey guys. Can I come with you?” A girl with honey-brown hair pulled into pig tails stood there. She had on only a pink t-shirt and a disposable adult diaper. In her hand she held a bottle containing orange juice. Across her shoulders she held a diaper bag. “Who are you?” asked Ami. “It’s me, your roommate Anise,” said the girl. Her hair was no longer an unnatural black; her piercings were gone. Her skin was still pale though. “But, but...,” Ami started to say. “But what?” she asked. “The rest of you are wearing costumes.” “You’re wearing a diaper,” said Flower. “Yeah. I’m a baby. Ami is dressed like a naked lady, and Flower looks like a plant. It’s Halloween.” Ami scooted close to Bridget and whispered, “Are those the same brand you wear, Angela?” Bridget elbowed Ami in the ribs. “Shush.” “I’m just joking,” she said. “Aren’t you embarrassed to be seen in diapers?” asked Bridget. She would have been mortified if anyone other than Ami or Flower saw her so dressed. “Nope,” said Anise. “It’s a costume and it’s Halloween.” “And the piercings and the normal hair?” asked Ami. “Part of the costume. Don’t worry. I’ll be back to normal tomorrow.” “I kind of like her like this,” Bridget whispered to Ami. “Well let’s find some frat boys,” said Anise. ### Fraternity row was on the opposite side of campus from the dorms and it was cold. Bridget sure shivered. She had put her short shorts away when it started to get chilly last week, but she had gotten some out for the costume. Her legs felt numb from the cold. She looked at Anise who wore flip flops. Her legs were as bear as her own. “Aren’t you cold?” asked Bridget. “I am freezing.” Anise held up her bottle of orange juice. “I thought of that already. I got vodka in here. The alcohol is warming me up. It only feels a little chilly.” Bridget smiled. At least with Anise wearing diapers, the attention wouldn’t be on her pull-ups that she wore under her own shorts. She was tempted to go without pull-ups, but even the thought of wetting in a frat house in front of fraternity boys mortified her. Flower waved her leaf-gloved hands. “At least I nice and warm in my costume.” Bridget stuck her tongue out. “And you would be surprised how warm a nude suit is,” said Ami. Bridget stood by Anise. “At least the two of us will be glad to get inside.” “I must admit that you’re right,” said Anise. They finally arrived at the frat house and they were immediately let inside. Ami quickly caught the attention of the frat boys and Flower and Anise quickly left for the drinks leaving Bridget alone. She grabbed a small plate of chips and some beer and sat down in one of the couches. She watched the partiers dance. A month before, Bridget would have been dancing with the other partiers, but not that she had Derek, she didn’t want to dance with anyone else. She had fun watching the goings on of the other partiers. She wished Derek was there with her now. He was probably cutting down trees somewhere. At least Flower was busy partying and too busy to be getting into trouble by spiking trees or stuff. ### Across the room Flower giggled as Anise picked a shot glass full of Jagermeister with her mouth out of Flower’s cleavage. “My turn,” said Flower. Anise pulled at the collar of her baby shirt. “You can’t. This shirt doesn’t let me show cleavage.” She handed Flower the shot glass and Flower had to drink it regularly. A bit later they came back with some beers and sat by Bridget. “Is this a great party or what?” asked Flower. She had almost tripped herself just walking across the room. “Must be pretty good if you are drinking Jagermeister,” said Bridget. “You do know it contains deer blood.” “Nah uh,” said Flower. She stuck her tongue out. “According to Snopes, that is not true.” “Really?” asked Anise. “Yeah, really.” “Well all this drinking and stuff is making me have to pee,” said Flower. “You want to go to the bathroom with me?” “Yeah,” said Anise. She stood up and did a little pee dance. They left and Bridget sat by herself. “So who are you supposed to be?” a girl Bridget didn’t know asked. She was wearing a Silk Spectre costume. “Oh, my costume?” Bridget stood up and held her CB mike. “I’m a sexy trucker.” “Oh, that’s cute. That’s probably a lot easier to put together than mine. I spent a couple of weeks on mine, but I go to comic book conventions. I already won a prize on it at one, so I am just wearing it for Halloween.” “I like it,” said Bridget. “I never saw Watchmen, but I read the graphic novel a while back.” “You missed out. You can still get it on DVD though.” “I guess I missed out if they did the graphic novel justice,” said Bridget. “Are you kidding?” said the girl. “It was awesome.” “Cool then,” said Bridget. Flower and Anise came back from the bathroom. “Can we go?” asked Anise. “Already?” asked Bridget. She looked at her watch. “It’s not even midnight.” Anise held her crotch and wiggled. Her eyes looked at Bridget as if begging. Flower spoke up. “She says she has to pee, but if she takes her diaper off to go, she can’t get it back on.” “Yeah, if I pull on the tapes, the plastic comes up with it.” She did another pee dance. “Can we please go? I really got to pee or I will have an accident.” “You are wearing a diaper,” said the Watchman girl. “Just use it.” “I’m not going to pee in a diaper,” said Anise. “Hey, Flower,” said Bridget, “please get Ami and ask her if she is ready to go. Anise, sit here; that might make it easier to hold it if you are sitting.” Flower left and Anise sat beside her. “Thank you,” she said. “No problem.” Bridget did know how it felt to wet herself and wanted to spare Anise the embarrassment. Ami came over and smiled at Anise. “Can’t you just wet your diaper?” “No,” said Bridget. “You will be able to tell because the diaper will discolor. Everyone would know.” “You’re free to walk back.” “I don’t want to walk by myself dressed like this,” said Anise. “I’ll go with her,” said Bridget. “Thanks, Angela,” said Flower. “She’s my friend. I’ll go to.” “Well the boy I was talking to ended up being a douche. I guess I can call it a night, but you have to start treating Angela and I with respect,” said Ami. “So far you have been mean and petty and you still insist on playing your music loud.” Anise crossed her legs and crouched pretty low. “Fine,” she said. “I’ll be nicer.” “Let’s go,” said Bridget. “I don’t think she has that long.” They stepped out into the cold and Bridget shivered. She looked at Anise who had her hand rammed into the crotch of her diaper. She didn’t know how long Anise could wait. “Just pee your diaper already,” said Ami. “There is no one out here who can see.” “But what about everyone in the lobby at the dorm?” she whined. She continued walking, but then had to stop and cross her legs every few minutes. Bridget had to pee as well and the cold weather didn’t help. She wondered why she decided that short shorts were okay attire for Halloween. Already the wind was picking up and dark clouds were starting to blot out the stars and the moon. They were about halfway to the dorms when Anise suddenly stopped. She held her hands at her crotch and tried to cross her legs. Bridget shivered. “Keep moving. We’re halfway there.” “Yeah,” said Flower. “I got to pee really bad too.” “If I move, I’ll pee,” said Anise. Then she froze and got a blank look on her face. Ami and Flower both stared as Anise wet her diaper. The wetness indicators slowly disappeared and Bridget could see the diaper get a bit thicker as Anise wet it. The diaper slowly discolored as well. “Well,” said Ami. “I guess that takes care of that.” Anise stopped peeing and looked down at herself. She started to cry. Bridget put her arm around her to comfort her. “We’ll get back to the dorm and you can get changed,” said Flower. “It’s okay.” “But everyone will see what I did,” she whined. “Okay,” said Bridget. “You can change in the back of my car. Ami will go up and get you some other clothes.” “Won’t people wonder why she changed out of her costume?” asked Flower. “Fine,” said Bridget. “We’ll send Ami to go up and get a new diaper. They come in packs and surely Anise has more.” “No,” said Anise. “I only have one. I sorta borrowed it from my grandmother.” “Oh nice,” said Ami. Bridget sighed. “Just come on. I’ll find another diaper for you.” They kept walking until they got to Bridget’s car. Bridget let Anise in and then said, “Okay. Here’s the deal. If you mention anything about where you got a spare diaper, then everyone and I meant everyone will be told why you needed it. Do you think you can be discrete about where your spare diaper came from?” “Yes,” said Anise. “What’s the big secret?” Bridget ignored her. She opened her trunk and pulled out the overnight bag she carried in case she stayed at Derek’s. She had promised never again to be caught without diapers if she needed to sleep over. She pulled out a diaper, closed her bag, closed the trunk, and handed it to Anise. “Does your boyfriend know you need those,” asked Flower. Anise looked up at Bridget and she felt herself turn red. “Shush, Flower.” Flower looked embarrassed. “Sorry.” Bridget looked at Anise. “Just change.” When Anise didn’t move, she asked. “Are you waiting for one of us to change you?” Anise blushed and just closed the door. It was dark so no one could really see in the car really well. Ami and Bridget just waited outside the car. All the sudden they heard a peeing sound coming from the front of Bridget’s car. They quickly walked around to see Flower squatting with her dress hiked up and panties around her ankles. “What,” she said. “I had to pee and I am not wearing a diaper.” Bridget pointed behind her. “The dorm is right there and has bathrooms. What are you going to wipe with.” Flower just shrugged and pulled up her pants. “It’s not really a problem.” Anise emerged from the car and they went up stairs to their rooms. “Thanks, Angela,” said Anise. “No problem.” Bridget left as Anise and Ami went off to their rooms. She and Flower went off to their own room. “Now that was an interesting situation,” said Flower. “Yeah. Let’s get to sleep.” “Good idea,” said Flower. “My uncle is coming by in the morning.” Bridget started to wet her own pull-up at the thought of the terrorist. She barely managed to stop before her saturated pull-up leaked. In a shaky voice she managed to speak. “Please wake me up in time to get ready before he gets here.” “Sure,” said Flower. She already had her dress off and was putting on her jammies. Bridget went in her walk-in closet and got ready for bed before emerging diapered. As soon as Flower went to sleep, she called Derek and told him about her day and that it was now time to set the trap. ### Bad dreams were a common occurrence for Bridget. Tonight was no different. She was nervous about baiting the trap. Every scenario she went through in her mind ended with the terrorist trying to physically assault her in her dorm room. The darkest of those scenarios involved Flower joining in. She wondered how Flower was going to react when Bridget finally killed the terrorist. In the last dream of the night, Flower came along on the trip to free the fake minks. After the terrorist was defeated, Flower became enraged and attacked her. “Angela, Angela,” said Flower as she shook Bridget awake. Bridget scooted backward across her bed, almost to the window to get away. She reached her arms up to shield her face from any attack. “You told me to wake you,” said Flower. Bridget looked around. She was in her dorm and Flower did not have that look of hatred in her eyes that she had in the dream. “Oh, sorry,” she said. “It was another nightmare.” “It’s getting worse, Angela,” said Flower. “You need to see the school psychologist. I am going to make you an appointment today after Physics. It’s not normal to have nightmares on a constant basis.” “No,” said Bridget. “Absolutely not.” “They can help you,” said Flower. “Going to a psychologist doesn’t make you a crazy person. Lots of normal people go to psychologists to make them feel better about problems. Anise has talked to the school psychologist.” “Fine,” said Bridget. “Just give me two weeks. If things don’t get better then, then I will go.” She counted on dealing with Owl first. If she did that, then both her wetting problem and her dreams would cease. She just had to get the terrorist to go for the bait and she was going to have to get it right the first time. “Fine,” said Flower. “But no putting it off after that.” Flower turned to make her bed. “My uncle will be coming by after class today, so I just thought you should get up in time to make your bed.” “Fine,” said Bridget. “Let me shower first.” She left to shower and soon came back to the dorm in fresh clothing. She hurried to make her bed and clean her room as well. She may as well play nice with Flower since she was using the visit as a chance to bait her trap. She just hoped Flower wouldn’t be caught up along with the terrorist. “Thanks for straightening the room,” said Flower. “I don’t want him to think I am only partying.” “Even if that is true?” asked Bridget. “I guess I do party a lot,” said Flower, “but you’re only young once. I am still making A’s and B’s, so my parents don’t need to find out about the over partying.” “Well that is true,” said Bridget. “And Angela,” she said, “thank you for being good to Anise when she wet her baby costume. I know you really didn’t like her at all and you and Ami could have reveled in making sure she was super embarrassed.” “Well let’s just say I know what it’s like,” said Bridget. Flower smiled. “And I know you had to reveal that you had diapers to Anise when you gave her one of yours. That was really nice.” “Yeah,” said Bridget. “I’d appreciate you keeping that a secret.” “You know I will.” Flower picked up her backpack. “Well I got to go to class.” She walked out of the dorm. Bridget packed her own bag and grabbed an extra pull-up for her backpack. If she saw the terrorist, maybe a pull-up wouldn’t be enough. She put it away and put a night diaper in her bag. She would change into it in the bathroom before returning to her dorm room. Until then a pull-up would be more than sufficient. ### After her last class Bridget hurried to the restroom. She did particularly need to go, but she knew she would be wetting herself the second Flower’s uncle appeared. She decided to go before returning to the dorm because she didn’t know if he was there already. She quickly sat and tried to go, but only a little came out. She had just gone before class anyway and she hoped she would be all right. Just to make sure, she put on the diaper. The top of the diaper stuck up a little bit above her waistband, so she tucked in her shirt. It was cold out, so her jacket would cover any bulge. When she finally returned to her dorm room, Owl and Flower were already there. “Hi, Angela,” said Flower, “this is my Uncle Owl. Owl, this is my roommate Angela.” She started peeing and couldn’t stop. She couldn’t believe she could pee as much as she did considering she thought she had just emptied her bladder. The padding of her diaper was more than sufficient to absorb the urine though. She forced herself to take Owl’s hand and shake it. “It is nice to meet you.” “It’s nice to meet you too,” he said. Bridget picked up her phone and discretely texted, “He’s here.” She then turned to Flower. “What did you have planned?” “Well my uncle has to give a lecture tomorrow about how to write your Congressmen to get actions done. Tonight he is free and he is going to take us out for dinner for Vegan food.” No. Don’t leave yet, Bridget thought. “That sounds like fun. Do you mind if I check e-mail before we leave. My professor was going to send us the homework assignment. I need to just see it real quick to estimate how long it is.” “Sure,” said Owl. “Our reservations aren’t for another hour anyway. It doesn’t take an hour to drive around Pullman.” “Cool.” She booted up her Mac and checked her e-mail. Just come to the door already, she thought. “So Flower tells me you celebrated Halloween last night,” Owl said. “Yes. I dressed as a sexy truck driver. I wore a trucker hat.” She pointed at her Chevron hat that she had left in a prominent location. “Why did you choose to go as an oil company truck driver?” asked Owl. She decided to startle him a bit. “I found the hat at a thrift store. I chose that hat because the original owner was also a woman. She even wrote her name in it.” She tossed the hat to Owl for him to examine. He looked at it and turned white. “Bridget Addison,” he read in the hat. Bridget smiled and held out her hand for the hat. Her name hadn’t been written in that hat or the original hat. She had just written in the name this morning. “Well should we be going?” asked Flower. A knock sounded at the door. Bridget smiled and rushed to the door to answer it. Ogre stood at the door. He looked a lot more friendly than he did when she met him in the forest. He wore a FedEx uniform and he held a package. “I have a package for Angela Murphy,” he said. “That’s me,” said Bridget. He handed her the package and she signed the clipboard he held. Bridget looked at Owl and Flower for any sign that the ruse had been discovered because Ogre didn’t have a FedEx computer handheld. None of them noticed. Ogre hurried away when Bridget signed it. “Do we have time for me to open it?” asked Bridget. “I can wait until we get back, but I kind of want to know what it is.” “Go ahead,” said Flower. Bridget opened the packaged and pulled out a mink coat. It was pure white and when she held the coat to her face it felt so soft, almost like when she was a child and cuddled with her kittens. She held it up and showed it off to Flower. “I told Derek how cold we were last night and he sent me a coat.” She showed the card that came with the coat to Flower. “I heard how cold you were last night, so I bought you a mink coat. Enjoy it and always think of me,” Flower read. I can’t believe Derek is so cruel as to buy you fur.” “Fur is not good, Angela,” said Owl. “You might think it is wonderful, but think of all the suffering that the mink go through.” Bridget didn’t have to think about that. She had visited a fur farm before and saw how they were killed. However, she still had no sympathy for the angry, hissing minks. “I was so cold last night,” she said. “Derek just bought it because he cares about me.” She took the coat and turned to put it in her walk-in closet. She didn’t close the door all the way. After she hung the coat she called Derek. “They saw it and I think they are mad at me, not mad at the mink farm,” she said when Derek answered the phone. “Just wait,” he said. “They’ll go for it. “I hope you are right,” she said. “Oh, and don’t leave the mink alone with them. I would hate for one of them to spray paint it. It is my grandma’s.” “Oh thank you, Derek,” she said. “A girl likes to dress in her boyfriend’s grandma’s clothes.” “Bye,” he said. “You need to focus on them.” He hung up. Bridget turned and looked out the small opening in the closet door and into the room. Flower and her uncle were still talking. “I think it was tacky for her to wave that coat around in front of us,” said the uncle. “She’s slowly coming around,” said Flower. “I am surprised about the fur coat though. Angela never wears fur. I never expected she would be happy about getting one.” “What’s this Derek guy do anyway that he can afford to buy a fur?” asked Owl. “I don’t know,” said Flower. Owl picked up the package and looked at the return address. “The Cuddly Creatures Fur Farm? It must be new. It’s not in the Blueprint.” “The Blueprint?” asked Flower. “It’s the list of fur farms that was compiled by animal rights activists.” “Cuddly Creatures,” asked Flower. She took the box from Owl. “If there so cuddly, why are they stealing their skins for coats?” She studied the return address. “Hey there logo is especially cruel. Look. They have a cartoon mink in rabbit fur and a cartoon rabbit wearing a mink coat. That is despicable.” I hope Flower doesn’t get baited into this, Bridget thought, or else she is liable to go with the terrorist into the trap. Flower was just naïve, not evil. “Well they seem to be from near here,” said Owl, “Kitzmiller, Washington.” The trap was set and Bridget hurried out. “Don’t we need to go to dinner now? Our reservations will be ready in fifteen minutes.” “Oh yeah,” said Flower. “We need to go.” ### The trip to the restaurant was nerve-racking to say the least. Flower insisted that Bridget should ride shotgun since she was the guest. Sitting in the passenger seat in Owl’s Prius wasn’t as bad as being hijacked by Owl in her tanker truck, but it was almost as scary for her. She was glad for the diaper though. She was constantly leaking from fear, but it wasn’t a lot. However the cumulative effect made it pretty heavy by the time they dropped her off at the dorm. “Go on ahead,” said Owl. “Flower will be up in a little bit. I just need to talk to her about something.” “Sure,” said Bridget. She raced back to the room. She wanted to get back to the dorm anyway. It had been a stressful evening. Once inside, she diapered herself for bed. When she finished, she saw her CB mike. That should have been returned to her car. She also remembered she was one diaper short in the supply she kept in her car. She dressed and then hurried down to replace the diaper. She put the new diaper in the duffle bag in her truck and opened the car door to put away the microphone. She sat in the seat and looked around. Owl and Flower were in the Prius parked nearby. They were arguing. “The time to attack this new fur farm is sooner rather than later. All we need to do is brake in and release the mink. Since the farm is new, that may bankrupt it.” “I don’t want to do any direct action,” said Flower. “Why not?” asked Owl. “Think about all those animals that are going to lose their skins.” “I’d rather not do any direct action until I am sure we aren’t being watched,” said Flower. “Who would be watching you?” Owl asked. “I don’t know,” said Flower. “I just have a bad feeling about it. When we spiked the trees, it did nothing to help our cause.” “Flower, it is time to act. You saw the cartoonish label that they used to sell the skin and fur of animals.” “That does make me angry,” she admitted. Bridget shivered in her car. Not because she hadn’t worn her jacket outside, but because she thought Flower was going to fall into her trap. “If you care about animal rights, you will help me free those mink,” said Owl. “We are going to hit the place at 3:00 AM on Saturday morning.” “Do you really need me?” asked Flower. “The more of us who are there, the higher the likelihood of us being detected.” Flower got out of the car. “I won’t be going.” “Fine,” said Owl. “I’ll free the mink myself. You will be responsible for the deaths of any that I cannot free myself.” Flower stormed away angrily back to the dorms. Owl threw the Prius into reverse and tried to peel out as he pulled out of the parking lot. It would have been more impressive if a Prius could peel out and Bridget was happy about her Crown Victoria and its ability to leave a trail of rubber if she felt like proving a point. Bridget got out of her car and headed back to the dorm. She had a date to stop the terrorist once and for all and she could not wait until Friday night. Besides, she would also be able to spend the night with Derek. “Bang!” Bridget winced against the recoil and pulled the trigger twice more. “Bang! Bang!” She then looked down the range, but couldn’t see how well she had done. She aimed again and shot twice more. “Bang! Bang!” She then aimed the revolver at the target again. “I know what you're thinking. ‘Did she fire six shots or only five?’ Well, to tell you the truth, in all this excitement I kind of lost track myself. But being as this is a .44 Magnum, the most powerful handgun in the world, and would blow your head clean off, you've got to ask yourself one question: Do I feel lucky? Well, do ya, punk?” She pulled the trigger once more, but the revolver only clicked. She looked confused. “Angela,” said Derek, “It’s a .357 Magnum and since it’s a small frame weapon, it only has five shots. Go down and look at your target and see how you did.” He took the revolver from her and spun out the cylinder and showed her the five empty chambers. “I’ll reload while you put a new target up.” Bridget walked down to the end of the field were they set the target. Her shots had been all hit the target, but they were all over the place. She pulled the paper silhouette down and replaced it with a new one and returned to Derek. “Let’s see how you did.” He took her target and frowned. For awhile he didn’t say anything. “Not good enough. You got to get your grouping down to this small.” He held his hands in a circle about six inches in diameter. “When you actually go up against your terrorist, groupings get worse. Even policemen’s groupings expand when they are in an actual shootout.” He handed her the revolver. “Now try again and don’t pretend to be Dirty Harry. Concentrate on what we are doing.” She was concentrating. Derek was being so mean to her. Sure, he was helping her learn to shoot, but he could be nicer about it. She aimed the revolver and pointed it down range. Then she pointed and shot. She did it four more times in slow succession giving herself time to reposition the gun between recoils. “Well, that looked better,” he said. “Now go see what you got and then we’ll try again. She got the target replaced it and then Derek demanded that she do better. “Again,” he said. Each time she emptied the gun and returned with the target, he said, “Again.” By the time Derek was satisfied, she felt like her arm was going to come off. She was finally glad when they went to the farmhouse for bed. ### The farmhouse wasn’t like Derek’s house. The place was rather run down and the pair of them had to sleep on the floor in sleeping bags. Bridget lay down her duffle bag and dug in it for a clean diaper. “Do you need help?” he asked. “I’ve been diapering myself for almost a year,” she said angrily. Derek looked hurt, and she realized what he had been asking. “I will accept help if you want to give it to me.” She lay down fully dressed on the sleeping bag and held the diaper in her hands. “Sure,” said Derek. “He knelt down and helped her undress. When she was naked, she tossed the diaper aside and pulled him on top of her. They kissed for quite awhile and then she felt his hand move from her breast to the area between her legs. It wasn’t long before she heard him fumble around for a condom. ### “She lay in his arms clad in only a diaper, but the diaper and his arms were all she really needed. “You’re a good man Derek.” “And you’re a good woman,” he said, “and I wouldn’t change one thing about you.” “Well after tonight the diapers are going away,” she said. “I’ve been really looking forward to waking up in a dry bed and free of diapers.” “Yeah, I must admit that I could do without the diapers.” He smiled and turned and tickled her. “As cute as they make you look, diapers really aren’t my idea of sexy lingerie.” “I’ll be diaper free as soon as I kill that damned terrorist,” she said. She barely kept the snarl out of her voice. Instead, she got inside Derek’s sleeping bag with him and fell asleep in his arms. ### “Wake up,” said Derek as he squeezed her around the middle. Bridget woke up tired. Derek was spooning her and she felt so comfortable. She hadn’t even dreamed. She felt like she had only put her head down. “What time is it?” she groaned. “It’s twenty after two,” said Derek. “We need to get up.” We reached around her for the zipper of the sleeping bag and pulled it open. Bridget sat up and stretched. She checked her diaper, which was still dry, and smiled. She didn’t even have to pee. She left the diaper on because she would be using it when the terrorist arrived and threw on her blue jeans. “Hurry up,” said Derek. He had already pulled on his t-shirt and jeans and pulled on a down jacket. “I am,” said Bridget. She picked up the revolver, and opened the cylinder. It was loaded with five .357 Magnum rounds. The other four rounds were different colors, but she shrugged. Perhaps she had used too many bullets practicing and Derek had opened another box. She closed the cylinder and put the gun in her pocket. Derek led the way to his pickup and opened the door and pulled out two black squares. He handed one to Bridget and closed the door. “Put this on the other door,” he said. Bridget looked at the square and turned it around. It was a magnetic sign that said, Cuddly Creatures Fur Farm. Bridget’s logo with the cartoon mink and rabbit was nicely done and printed in color. She slapped it on the door of the truck and stepped back to admire it. “Now it looks like a company truck,” she said. “That’s the idea,” he said. “We should probably go to the shed and wait.” The shed was dark and dusty, but Bridget didn’t care. She turned on the light and examined the room. On each side of the long shed were shelves filled with rusty old cages. At the back was a table with a device to shock mink before skinning them. It looked as rusty and worn out as the cages. At the other end was the door. They headed toward the back. “Here is the plan,” said Derek. “When he gets here, I will turn on the light and you shoot him. Fire one shot at a time until you hit him. Don’t shoot him twice or the cops might not think it is self-defense.” “Sure,” said Bridget. She didn’t tell Derek, but she didn’t care what any cops thought. She would shoot him until he was dead. He turned the light out and they crouched down together. “What about the mink sounds we recorded?” she asked. “Won’t he suspect something if he doesn’t hear mink sounds.” “Right,” said Derek. He pulled out his iPhone and tried to turn it on. “Crap.” “What’s wrong?” “The battery is dead.” He ran out of the shed carrying his phone and shortly returned with a cord. “Why didn’t you charge it earlier,” asked Bridget. “There is no electricity in the farm house, remember?” He turned on the light and plugged the phone into a power strip on the table, then plugged in the power strip. A humming sound came from a piece of equipment on the table, but he ignored it and started his iPhone instead. Soon the sound of mink filled the shed. He then turned out the light. ### Waiting took forever. Bridget checked the time on her cell phone ten or fifteen times. It was already 3:37 am and she was so tired. She just wanted to go to bed. The stupid mink noises kept her away, but she didn’t really care about that. She just wanted the terrorist to come on ahead so she could kill him and get some sleep. She caught herself nodding off, but then she heard a loud noise and almost wet her pants. She didn’t, but she had to pee urgently now. The door to the shed opened and a dark silhouette of a man at the doorway. She pulled her revolver and waited. Derek had told her they would wait until he got halfway into the shed before he would turn on the lights as a signal. The man came closer. Her crotch felt numb and really warm. She was wetting the diaper. She couldn’t move until she emptied her bladder. Fortunately she was done before the man reached the halfway point. Derek turned on the light and there was Owl standing fifteen feet away. She leveled the gun on him. “Don’t move a muscle,” she said. “Just shoot him,” said Derek. “I want him to know who I am,” said Bridget. “You’re my niece’s roommate,” he said. “What are you doing here? Is this some kind of set up?” He started forward. “I said, ‘don’t move!’” she said. She cocked the gun for emphasis. “I know who you are. You are a murderer. You killed two hundred forty children when you hijacked a tanker truck and drove it into a school.” “That killer was a woman,” said Owl. “They executed her.” “I was there in the cab with you when you drove that truck into a school. I know your tattoo, I know your voice, and I know your ideology. You destroyed that school because it was build near what you said was a haven for some insect. That is what the press release you issued when you claimed responsibility for it.” “You couldn’t have been more than six at the time,” he said. “I know there were no children in the cab of that truck.” “I’m Bridget Addison,” she said. “I am just younger now. When they put me to death, somehow I jumped into a different younger body, but I still remember what you did. I dreamed about it every night for twelve years, so I remember it like yesterday. I swore to kill you.” She pointed the gun and aimed it at the terrorist chest. She was going to shoot him, but she froze. “Shoot him already, Angela,” said Derek. It was too late really. She saw him coming and couldn’t bring herself to pull the trigger. She couldn’t kill a man who killed two hundred forty children so easily. She only had a few seconds anyway before he charged at her. Owl rushed forward and grabbed her wrist. He twisted the gun out of her hand and spun her around so he could stand behind her. She tried to cough, tried to breathe even, but he held his strong arm across her throat and squeezed. She felt her bowels give way and hoped that she could at least get changed before the terrorist killed her. She really didn’t want to be found with dirty diapers. Derek picked up a piece of wood from the floor and advanced. “Let her go!” “Don’t move, or your girlfriend’s brains will be spread across this shed.” Derek dropped the stick and backed off. “Just don’t hurt her.” Bridget still struggled to breathe, but the terrorist loosen his grip. It was still tight against her throat, but she could at least gasp for breath. As she did, she inhaled the scent of her accident. “Really?” asked the terrorist. “It just takes being held at gun point to lose bowel control. You are not the same person who struggled with me to steer that truck out of the way of a building full of kids. Too bad you only steered it into another school. But you really don’t understand, do you? Thirty-five species go extinct every day. Every day! Do you know how many babies are born? People have too many children and are pushing out other animals. A new mall, and new housing development, a new Walmart, even a new school: they all push out native species which will go extinct.” “You are a monster if you value animals over people,” said Bridget. “I shouldn’t have hesitated to kill you.” “But you killed other people. How many people have breathing trouble because you drove around in a tanker truck and delivered oil? Oil is a great evil and you perpetuated it. Even the death of children didn’t make you repentant. You drive around in that big gas guzzler and flaunt your gas wasting ways. I should kill you now.” “I didn’t kill those children; you did,” she said. “Even if my actions only changed the children you killed, you are still responsible for their deaths. I couldn’t even kill a murderer like you, let alone innocent children.” Derek moved forward again. “Let my girlfriend go!” he said. “If you kill her, you will die,” he said. Bridget twisted out of his arms and grabbed his gun hand and hung her weight on it, so the gun pointed toward the dirt floor. “Bang!” The gun went off, but the bullet thudded harmlessly into the floor. Bridget rolled away and scrambled underneath the table. She screamed as the terrorist raised the gun at Derek and pulled the trigger twice. “Bang! Bang!” He then turned the gun toward Bridget and started advancing at her, but Derek rushed the terrorist from behind and pushed him to throw off his aim before falling flat on his face. Bridget pulled her hand over her face as Owl fell toward her. He reached out to the table to steady his grip and then started to twitch. The lights flickered on and off, on and off and there was the horrible smell of burned flesh. All she could hear was Owl’s screaming and an electrical buzzing sound. After what seemed like forever, but was less than a minute, the screaming, then the buzzing stopped. “Angela, are you all right?” asked Derek. She took her hands away from her eyes and saw Derek squatting and looking beneath the table at her. “I’m okay,” she said. She started to move to get out, but Derek shouted, “Wait, don’t move.” She froze. She saw Derek unplug the power strip and unplug his iPhone. He then pushed Owl from the front of the table and reached down to lift Bridget up. “What happened?” she asked. “I thought you got shot.” “Well about that...,” he started. “Your terrorist friend fell into the electrocution device that they use to kill minks. I accidently turned it on when I plugged in the power strip to charge my iPhone. After the gun went off, I had to free you before he hurt you.” “But you could have been killed,” she said. “Well, only the first round was live.” He picked up the gun and opened the cylinder. Two of the four differently colored rounds were still not spent. The others were obviously fired. “I put four blanks in your gun.” She punched him in the arm. “Why?” she asked angrily. “I didn’t want you to go to jail. I thought you would shoot him when he already fell to the ground. That is not self defense and you would go to jail. We are on iffy grounds already.” She looked around. The terrorist lay dead in front of the table. She felt smelly and gross in the poopy diaper she wore. The only thing she was really afraid of was going back to jail. “Well no one got shot,” he said. “I am hiding the gun away and we also have signs to hide.” They ran out to the driveway and pulled Bridget’s sign off the fence. She helped him carry it into the back of the pickup where they put it picture side down. Derek through the magnetic signs in the woods and hid the gun in the glove box. He shut the door and stood back. “Oh crap,” he said. “What?” asked Bridget. He pointed at the flat tires on the truck. “That bastard slashed my tires.” “How will we get out of here?” asked Bridget. “We aren’t,” said Derek. “We are going to call the police.” He took out his phone and called. Bridget wrung her hands as he called. “Police, someone came in and tried to attack me and my girlfriend.” He paused. “No, we are fine, but the assailant somehow electrocuted himself.” He paused again and hung up. “They are on the way,” he said. “Let’s wait in the shed for them. ### It took only fifteen minutes until the police arrived. Bridget shivered, but she stood by Derek as he explained his version of what happened. “Well we are looking into fixing up the farmhouse and moving here when my girlfriend and I move in together,” he explained. “Why were you in the shed?” asked the policeman. “My iPhone died. The house has no electricity yet, so I went out to the shed. When I plugged it in, I plugged in that power strip and plugged the iPhone into that. We were in the shed waiting until it charged when the guy came in. He said he had a gun and I knew he was going to hurt Angela.” “Did he have a gun?” “Well, no,” admitted Derek. He put his hand in his pocket and pushed his finger to make it look like he had a gun in his jacket pocket. “He did this and I didn’t know if he had a gun or not so we just listened to him.” “You did the right thing,” said the policeman. “He then grabbed Angela and held her by the throat while he bragged that he killed a bunch of children in some school and killing her would be nothing. Angela panicked and twisted away and hid under the table, but he chased her. I tried to pull him away, but pushed him at the table instead and he landed with a hand in that machine.” He pointed at the electrocution machine. “As soon as I could get up, I pulled the plug on the power strip. I only touched him to get Angela out.” “Is that what happened, Miss,” asked the police man. “Yes,” she said. He looked down at her waist and wrinkled his nose. “Are you okay?” he asked. “Can we go yet?” she asked. “Not yet,” he said. He walked around her and looked at her bottom. “Are you sure you are all right?” “I’m very uncomfortable,” she said. “I kinda had an accident and want a shower.” “We’ll try to let you get away as soon as we can,” he said. That took another two hours. Another policeman came to question her. “So then Derek pulled him away from the table to let me out,” she said. “Have you seen this man before?” asked the man. She hesitated, but decided the truth was better. “Yes,” she said. “He’s my college roommate’s uncle. He seemed nice Monday when he took me and my roommate to dinner. I didn’t know he would follow me out here and attack me though.” “No one expects someone to attack them,” the policeman said. “I’d be more surprised if he was some stranger than someone you’ve met before. I’ve seen it happen many times.” “Oh, I didn’t realize that,” she said. “He even slashed my boyfriend’s tires.” “Probably to keep you from getting away.” He turned to go back into the shed. “Sit here for now.” He left. ### “So did it work?” asked Ogre. He had come by to pick them up since Derek’s truck tires were flat. Derek had managed to get the gun out of the truck and into Ogre’s car without the police noticing. It had helped that it was not open, but in its case before he called the police. “Yes,” he said. “It worked like a charm. Once less tree spiker and justice for Fred Jones.” “That’s Lia’s dad, right?” asked Bridget. She had to speak up because she was in the backseat with both windows open and only her duffle bag to keep her company. “That is right,” said Ogre. “What I don’t understand is how you knew who he was. Derek said you told him more, but he couldn’t say.” Bridget shrugged. “I really can’t go into it,” she said, “but I was him for another crime when I received evidence that he was involved in the tree spiking. I’m not who I said I was, but don’t worry. I am Angela Murphy now.” “Okay,” said Ogre, “no questions then, except one. I don’t want to embarrass you, but can you smell a bit better next time we meet?” Bridget felt her face burn. “I guess I can keep my pants clean if no one points a gun at my face or tries to nail me to a tree.” It was Ogre’s turn to be embarrassed. “Good point,” he said. He pulled into the driveway at Derek’s house and the two of them got out. “Have a good time,” he said before driving away. Bridget went inside for a much needed shower and then spending time with Derek. She had packed special panties for this night with Derek and she couldn’t wait. The clean shower and night of love making made Bridget so happy. She lay in his arms and relaxed. “I really like you, Angela,” he said. “I like you too,” she said. “I am tired. It’s really been a hectic night last night and I really need some sleep.” “You want me to diaper you again,” he asked. “No,” said Bridget. “I think the nightmares are over. I won’t need diapers again.” She rolled over. Derek put an arm around her waist and pulled her closer. She fell asleep in his arms. ### Bridget woke up to Derek’s nudging. “Wake up. You’re wet.” She rolled onto her back and then rubbed the mattress. She was lying in a puddle. She sat up right away. Derek looked at her and he seemed kind of disappointed. Of course he was. She had promised him a dry and diaper-free girlfriend and she hadn’t been able to deliver. Tears sprang to her eyes and she started to cry. “I wasn’t supposed to wet the bed. I didn’t even have a bad dream. I promise. I’m sorry I disappointed you.” “Don’t cry, Angela.” He scooted over to sit next to her in the puddle so he could put an arm around her. “I’ll always be here for you. I’m only disappointed because you are sad, not because you wet the bed. I love you.” Bridget sniffled. “You love me? You never said that to me before. You have always been so kind to me, ever since we met at prom. I loved you ever since prom when you danced with me when they played that Elvis song, Can't Help Falling In Love.” “That’s when I fell in love with you, too,” he said. “Even if I have to wear diapers to bed every night?” she asked. “Even if you have to wear diapers all the time,” he said. He drew her toward him for a kiss. Bridget kissed him for all she was worth.
  3. Creations for messing

    I am curious to see what this community has made for messing and simulating a mess. I want to see what tools you all have made to help you mess and fake a mess. Loaders and anything else that you all can recommend to get, make, or use. I'm interested to see what you all have in mind.
  4. “SPIDER!” my little sister Annabelle screamed at the top of her lungs. “STOP SCREAMING!” I screamed back at her before running over and killing the damn spider. “Look, just go downstairs and look through some of the stuff down there!” Annabelle was 8 years old and had a very high pitched scream that I absolutely could not stand. So far that had been her 4th time screaming her head off and I would rather clear out this attic myself than to hear her scream near me one more time. Why are we cleaning the attic? Well because we're selling my grandmas house. About 5 months ago my grandma got really sick and died just 2 weeks later. It was a very sad time for us all. Anyway, my mom couldn't afford to keep both our hose and my grandma's house so she decided to get everything out and go through it. Some stuff we are selling, some were giving to goodwill, and some were keeping. My sister was in tears after I yelled at her but what do you expect? A 16-year-old brother can only handle so much screaming. But Annabelle did climb down the ladder leading to the attic crying so it wouldn't be so bad. Mom might be a little mad at me for yelling at her but even she knows how much of a pain it can be to hear my sister scream. I was about to get back to taking stuff down the ladder when I suddenly heard something slam shut. Looking back I could see the door to the attic had closed shut. Shit! I went over and tried to reopen the door but it wouldn't budge. Whoever made it, made it so that it can only be opened from the outside. “Perfect,” I whisper as I pulled out my phone to text my mom. She had a few things to do today so she left the two of us here to clear out the attic. ‘Hi mom, Annabelle’s screaming was getting on my nerves so I sent her downstairs. She must have accidentally knocked the ladder and now I'm stuck up here.’ I texted my mom. ‘Ok, I'm almost done with my shopping and I'll be back in 30 minutes.” she texted me back. great, stuck up here with nothing to do. My grandma doesn't have internet and my phone doesn't have any apps so I'm already bored. Not long after that, I hired the phone ring downstairs. Most likely mom checking on Anna. I take a look over at the boxes still up here and I decided to open a few and see whats inside. Maybe I could find something cool and call dibs on it. the first box had nothing but clothes in it, the next had old photos, and finally the last I checked actually had stuff in it! Most of it was old junk that I wouldn't have any use for. But it was still neat to look at some of it. Then I noticed something, a little pink box. I grabbed it and just looked at it. Out of everything in the box this one looked a little out of place. As I opened it, I let out a small giggle. It was a pink diaper with the word ‘princess’ on the front. On the back was just a large red hart. “Why was this up here?” I asked myself before tossing the diaper and continued to look through my grandma's stuff. But then I heard something, a small rustling sound, was it a rat!? I quickly turn around to see nothing. Then I hear the rustling again and I turned to look at the attic door. But again nothing was there, well except for the diaper. Just then I realized the rustling sound must have been the diaper. but what I didn't realize was it wasn't in the spot I tossed it at. I decided I should actually pick it up and put it back in the box before mom gets back. As I walk over and try to pick it up however the diaper suddenly leaps into the air and clamped onto my face! What the fuck! I immediately start fracking out as I try to pull the diaper off my face when I suddenly fall down. “Ow,” I say as I rub my head and release the diaper is off my face but notice it's trying to make its way into my pants! I immediately grab onto it and tried as hard as I could to pull on it, but It just would not budge! I might be scrawny but I can't be this week! But my hands slip and the diaper went right into my pants. I quickly stand up as I feel the diaper moving around in my underwear! I immediately pull down both my pants and underwear just as the diaper tapes itself onto me and started releasing a thick pink smoke! “What the hell!” I yell out before I start coughing and I close my eyes. With my eyes closed, I didn't see my clothes began to disappear and soon replaced by different clothes. When I finally was able to open my eyes I screamed as I looked down. I now had knee-length socks and black shoes. My pants were gone and I was now wearing a pink frilly skirt that only covered half of the pink diaper. My shirt was replaced with a short-sleeved pink shirt that didn't even cover my bellybutton with a red vest red ribbons over it. And if I had a mirror I would see that my dark hair has turned into a light pink color with a small ow sicking out the side of my head! “W-w-what the…” I said weakly as my body starts shaking slightly. "What the hell was going on here!" I then began pulling at everything, trying as hard as I can to remove any of it! “You can't take me off.” I heard someone say and I immediately jumped and began looking around. “Who said that?” I asked as I saw no one else around me. “I am Pardie,” the voice said again. “Where are you!” I asked. “Look down.” the voice said and when I did all I could see was the diaper. “What do you mean? All I see is the diaper.” I tell the voice. Suddenly the diaper began to swell and get bigger forcing my legs apart! “I am the diaper.” the voice said before deflating back to the original size. (the name pardie is diaper with the letters changed around) “T-this can't be happening,” I say as I really start to freak out. “Ow, but it is princess, and now it's time for you to save your kingdom,” Pardie told me and suddenly the diaper began letting out even more smoke. “NOT AGAIN!” I yelled as I closed my eyes and began coughing again. When the smoke finally subsided and I was finally able to breathe again I opened my eyes to see I was no longer in the attic anymore. “WHAT THE HELL!” I screamed as I began to freak out. “THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING! I was now inside an empty room with only a single window and a door. “Welcome to you castle princess,” Pardie said to me. “IM A BOY NOT A PRINCESS!” I screamed at the diaper and realized I'm losing my mind. There's no way I'm screaming at a talking diaper, or magically been taken somewhere else. “This has to be a dream. Ya, I must have slipped when I was picking up the diaper and hit my head.” I told myself. “You still don't believe this is real?” pardie asked. “Of course not!” I screamed. “Who in their right mind would think diapers could talk!” Suddenly I felt the diaper suddenly get really tight as it began shrinking! At first, it wasn't that bad, hell I figured it would just pop off as soon as it got small enough. But no, it soon felt like there was a vise clamped onto my nuts! Soon I was screaming in pain. “Do you believe this is real now princess?” pardie asked. “YES!” I screamed just wanting the pain to be over and thankfully the diaper went back to normal. “What is going on here?” I asked the diaper as soon as the pain in my crotch went away. “You are here to save your kingdom princess.” pardie told me. “What kingdom?” I asked and suddenly heard screaming coming from outside the window. I immediately ran over to the window and looked outside and my jaw dropped. I was in some sort of tower looking down at a vast beautiful city. But with a closer look, I could see people running around screaming as buildings were lit on fire. Then I saw the case of the fire, a large lion with goat horns was breathing fire! “Princes, it's time for you to save your kingdom,” Pardie told me as I nearly pissed my diaper. ____________ hi! ^.^ I hope you like this first chapter. I've been pretty busy so I haven't had much time to write but I've been wanting to post this for a while. I want to give a shout out to skipek1 (from DeviantArt) who asked me to make a transformation story. and to Redwelch2222 who helped me with a little bit of the world building that will be in the next chapter. this is my first real original story not based on anything already. hope you all like it!
  5. I have a carry permit. I have been Switching pants sizes since I took the class, so my holster will fit better. I have been using an in the waistband holster, that clips over your belt. It is a little tight, but not uncomfortable after I get my pants closed, if I am wearing relaxed pants. I feel awesome with my diaper and gun, ready for action. But, when my diaper is wet, it sags and expands. What pants does everyone wear for diaper room, I don't like when my diaper sags to one side. Do you use special underwear over? Ive heard carpenter cut jeans are biggest cut, but not bought any to try yet.
  6. deena.jpg

    From the album ABDL Art

  7. From Slacks to Diapers(Open)

    Miles didn't know where he could possibly be; he was gagged, blindfolded, and wet with his own pee, that much he could understand. He struggled against the straps keeping his midsection locked to the surface he now lay upon, but they only tightened further with each movement. When his wet clothing was unceremoniously stripped off his body, someone spoke, but he couldn't make anything out. The blindfold, the gag, and the restraints digging into his stomach were so uncomfortable they made him want to scream. Through the gag, he let out a series of muffled screams, straining against his bonds and trying desperately to speak. His muffled babbling made drool trickle down his chin, and he whined, shifting about as he heard someone walking, shoes clicking against tile. The man reached out for what he didn't yet understand was a mobile that played music above his head, where he lay flat on his back, held fast by straps that grounded him to the spot. He was cold, uncomfortable, and nothing made sense. Tears trickled down his cheeks as he writhed, reaching up in search of something familiar, for someone who would free him from this strange nightmare. "Gaaghaa!" An incoherent cry was all that escaped his lips as the mysterious person lifted his legs, powdering him and oiling his privates before setting his legs back down. That was when the new arrival spoke, this time loud enough for Miles to make out every syllable...
  8. Getting caught wearing by a stranger

    This day i was wearing my Abri M3 while i was walking to the supermarket and half way there i wetted it pretty badly. the diaper got pretty heavy and sagged a little making it really bulky, I decided to just continue on since i was almost out of diapers and i had two days before my new ones came in. (ordered some M4's this time! :D) While i was in the supermarket some kid suddenly said to his mom "look that girl is wearing a diaper!" The mom shushed him but the kid said it load af and like three people were giving me looks. i was on the verge of tears when the mom walked up to me and apologised. The mom was really nice and even offered me for her to pay my groceries, but the damadge was done. wearing diapers can be fun and exciting but sometimes i really wish i didn't need them. Has this kinda thing happend to you guys as well, and if so how did you deal with it?
  9. Here is a tight article in Merry Jane, an online marijuana enthusiast website, wherein the author, a woman, tries on a diaper at the behest of the online Diaper Stoners contingent. She likes it, though not necessarily for sexual reasons. Article also makes a defense of the concept and champions the general cause of getting lit and slapping on a dip. Here's the link: https://merryjane.com/culture/diaper-stoners-cannabis-fetish-community-sex-week.
  10. Joe and Sue

    I know I have other unfinished stories - my excuse is that I need to get back into the mood with a new one. I've pasted this from Word - sorry about the big spaces between lines. No time to fix. Joe and Sue Chapter One - The Start Joe look fearfully across the bed to Sue, who was still asleep. Joe carefully rolled himself off the soaked bottom sheet and stood next to the bed. He was wondering what todo next when Sue groaned and stretched out her arm. Joe was frozen to the spot. He watched as Sue’s hand rested for a moment on the sheet. Her fingers investigated the wet condition of the sheet, then her eyes opened. She looked up at Joe. ‘Not again, Joe,’ she said, not kindly but with exasperation. ‘I think it must have been the…’ he began. ‘No, Joe,’ said Sue, wide awake now and getting out her side of the bed. She stood up. Joe couldn’t help looking at his wife’s two magnificent boobs pushing out the soft fabric of her nightdress. ‘I think it must be you behaving like an irresponsible toddler,’ Sue said. ‘That’s three times in a week. We agreed last time that if it happened again, we’d see Kathy, didn‘t we?’ ‘Sue, it’s ok, it won’t…’ Joe said. ‘No Joe, I’m not taking any more of your excuses. I’m ringing Kathy this morning. I’m sick of this, on top of your filthy undies as well,’ said Sue. Joe felt his shame and anger rising simultaneously. He often leaked a little into his underpants. No big deal. Wetting the bed was worse, but he was under pressure at work, and it was an accident. There was no need for her to call him a toddler. He hated her doing that. It screwed him up inside. As if to make the point, Sue picked up a pair of Joe’s underpants from the clotehs on the chair where he usually left them. She sniffed them at a distance and threw them at Joe. ‘Urine, Joe,’ she said. ‘You probably should be in training panties.’ ‘Pants,’ Joe said crossly, daring a quick glance directly at his wife. ‘And Sue, I don’t want you to ring Kathy,’ he added with as much conviction as he could. ‘I don’t have to see her.’ The last person Joe wanted to know anything about his little problems was Dr Kathy Vincent. She was one of Sue’s gym mates, and she was even taller than Sue, who at 5 feet 11 inches was already a good two inches taller than Joe. Kathy gave a new meaning to the word buff as applied to females. She didn’t walk, she swaggered, and she scared Joe. It was hard enough maintaining his manly status in the presence of an Amazon like Kathy, and telling her he wet the bed didn’t bear thinking about. Sue laughed. It wasn’t the reaction Joe had hoped for. ‘So Mr ‘I’ve-just-wet-my-bed-again’ doesn’t think he has a problem,’ said Sue, walking around to where Joe stood. ‘Little Mr ‘I-can’t-keep-my-jarmies-dry mummy’ doesn’t need help, is that it?’ Sue said, reaching down and grabbing Joe’s private parts through Joe’s wet pyjama pants. Sue gave Joe’s balls a squeeze, and was rewarded with a flood of warm pee over her hand. She withdrew her hand in disgust. Joe was about to cry. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I couldn’t help it. I was getting up to go…’ Sue stood still for a moment, leaned forward and gently but quickly kissed him, then said calmly, ‘It’s alright, baby. Of course you can’t help it. That’s the problem isn’t it? Now go and have a shower and get dressed for work.’ Joe bit his lip and turned to go to the bathroom. As he reached the door, he felt the warmth of a stream of pee on his inner thighs. He didn’t even try to stop the flow, but traipsed wetly across the bathroom floor and sat peeing through his pyjamas on the toilet, crying as he did so. Joe and Sue Chapter Two – Sliding Back Work hadn’t been going so well for Joe. He was in customer service for a national computer franchise. He wasn’t particularly attached to the place, nor it to him. He got on well with most of the staff, who were mostly women, aged from about 20 to around 50, so Joe sat square in the middle of their age group. He was young enough that the women in the office under 30 treated him more or less as an equal, and the older women found him youthful enough to fuss over. But the work seemed to be becoming more difficult, and several times the most junior girl in the office had taken him aside and explained easier ways to do the work especially the calculations. Joe began to feel that his status in the office slipping as he required more help. He was also finding urination more urgent, and had had a few close escapes, unknown to the women. It was bad enough the office junior helping him with some work he had got stuck with. Having them know he sometimes wet a little would be the end. Increasingly, Joe’s superiors would assign to others the work Joe felt he normally did. He found himself making more coffee, and doing more photocopying and filing than actual work. Joe’s role in servicing customers was formally changed a few weeks later. The office manager, a kindly older woman, told Joe that he seemed to be struggling a bit, and that she felt he might be getting and stale and so it would be better if his role changed a little. Joe was to become ‘office support’ although, the woman assured him, he would certainly be considered for a different role if his standard of work was consistently good. ‘I’m sorry, Joe,’ the former office junior had said to him that afternoon. ‘It’s the last way I would have wanted to get the promotion.’ The penny dropped for Joe. He hadn’t really considered his move a demotion, but now, as smiled weakly at the former junior and wished her well, he realised what had happened. His smile changed to a bitten lip, and he felt like crying as he turned away from the girl. He did cry, too, all the way home in his car. He straightened himself up by the time he reached the front door. Sue was home, and met him with the news that she had made an appointment with Kathy for the following day, and that she had rung Joe’s manager to secure a day off for him. The office had told Sue that they had a work experience girl who could fill in for Joe, and that he should take the rest of the week off. That news surprised her, and Sue listened to Joe tearfully relating how he had been demoted, that his pay had been reduced, and that he didn’t feel confident he could get back to where he was. ‘Now I’m just doing coffee and photocopying and stuff, and running errands,’ said Joe through his tears. ‘Even for the young ones. It makes me feel, you know, like I’m, you know…’ he added, his voice trailing off unhappily. ‘Not equal?’ Sue suggested helpfully. Joe nodded his head. ‘And the, and then, with…’ said Joe. Sue guessed what he was talking about and felt for him. They knew each other well enough that she could usually read his thoughts. She knew how embarrassed he felt about his bedwetting and his damp undies. She was looking forward to seeing Kathy and finding out what could be done for Joe. There was something that was unsaid between them. It occurred to Sue sometimes when she was putting on her sheer nylon panties, and watching Joe pull on the thick cotton underwear she bought for him. She always bought for Joe briefs with a double panel at the front. It wasn’t much, but she felt it would help Joe if he was a little damper than usual. No wonder he felt unequal. Having that childish problem, then effectively being made the most junior staff member at work couldn’t be an easy load to carry. Joe and Sue Chapter Three – A visit to the doctor The next day, Joe showered and dressed before the visit to Dr Kathy. He walked into the living area ready to go, to find Sue on the phone. ‘Yes, he wet last night, but he’s showered and ready now. No, just undies. No, I don’t think he would. Oh, here he is now. See you soon!’ said Sue, putting the phone down. ‘Who was that?’ Joe asked urgently. ‘Don’t worry, honey, it was just Kathy. She and I have been best friends for years, so don’t worry.’ Sue kissed Joe and stroked his hair. ‘But you said, you know, last night,’ objected Joe. ‘She needs to know everything,’ said Sue reassuringly. ‘And she is a doctor,’ she added with a smile. Joe felt worried. He squeezed his thighs together as he felt a slight trickle in his underpants. ‘Do you need the bathroom before we go?’ asked Sue. ‘No,’ said Joe stiffly. ‘I’ve been.’ It was a little annoying to be reminded to use the bathroom, especially by a well dressed, adult woman wearing tight, light grey pants which would have shown the slightest dribble from down there, while he was wearing his usual dark loose slacks and thick cotton underwear, which were now damp. ‘OK then, hop in the car, sweetie, and we’ll get going.’ Joe didn’t have to ask whose car they would use. The thought occurred to him that he was being subtly demoted at home, too. Wetting the bed didn’t help his self-confidence about his status relative to Sue either. It seemed to underline his lesser position in the house. And now he was definitely earning less money than Sue. Thank God they didn’t know about his night time issues at work, Joe thought. Joe walked towards their two cars. Sue marched straight to the passenger door of her SUV and held it open for Joe, who quickly climbed in. Sue got in the driver’s seat, then turned to Joe. ‘Buckle up, honey, please,’ she said, guiding Joe’s hand to the seat belt. ‘I was just going to,’ he said crossly, and buckled himself in. ‘Good boy,’ said Sue, and turned her head away from Joe as she backed from the driveway. Joe was quiet during the 15 minute drive to Kathy’s rooms. He had an uncomfortable feeling that he was being taken to the doctor’s against his will. He had had no say in it, that was for sure. Clearly, Sue and Kathy had discussed the whole thing, too. Sue pulled into the carpark of the surgery and was out of the car and holding Joe’s door open while he was still fumbling with his seat belt. ‘Don’t dawdle, honey,’ she said. ‘We’re a couple of minutes late as it is.’ Joe was not looking forward to this. He felt himself wet a little as he clambered out of the car. Sue grabbed his hand. ‘Come on, slowcoach,’ she said, and led him across the carpark and through the glass doors of the surgery. Joe looked back to see a mother dragging her young child across the carpark by the hand just as Sue had done. The sight gave Joe a jolt, and he managed to let go of Sue’s hand as they went along a corridor to Kathy’s rooms. The first room the entered was the waiting room, and Sue went straight to the receptionist. ‘And this is Joe,’ said the immaculately groomed receptionist with a smile. ‘Hullo Joe,’ she added. ‘Hi,’ muttered Joe, and plonked himself on one of the chairs in the room. The lady from the carpark arrived, still with her young son in tow. ‘Doctor will be a few minutes late,’ the receptionist told Sue, then she looked at Joe who looked less than comfortable on his chair. ‘There’s a bathroom just along the hall, if you need,’ the receptionist said with another pleasant smile. ‘I’m OK,’ said Joe quietly. ‘Thank you,’ Sue reminded him as she sat next to him. ‘Thank you,’ Joe dutifully said, and received another smile. Why did she mention the bathroom, Joe wondered. He really didn’t feel in charge of anything here. Surreptitiously, he rested his hand on his crotch. He could feel it was a little damp, but his pants were very dark and he had got away with similar situations before. A few minutes later, Kathy put her head around a door into the waiting room. ‘Would you like to come in now, Sue?’ she asked. ‘Hello Joe,’ she said, turning to him and smiling. ‘Hi Kathy,’ replied Joe, and followed Sue into the room. The two women discussed some paperwork while Joe looked around. To be continued…
  11. (This is a special crossover with PinkTheDinosaur ‘s story “Baby Care Class (remix)” the story is split into 3 parts, the first and third are in Alice’s POV while the middle is in Williams. If you want to read it fully from his POV then please read PinkTheDinosaur story, link at the end.) My alarm clock rings and I smack it off as I groggily roll over in my bed. I slowly force my eyes open as I'm greeted by a smiling face looking at me. “Goo moorin moomma,” I tell the picture of mommy with my pacifier still in my mouth. I quickly remove the blanket to check on the stat of my diaper and see that it is still nice and dry. When mommy passed away a few years ago I had to relearn my potty training. I learned it so that I could finally grow up a little and make sure mommy would never have to worry about me and the rest of my life without her. But despite being potty trained I still will never give up being a little girl when I'm at home, and despite the fact that I'm now potty trained doesn't mean I still can't use my diapers whenever I want. On that note, I happily begin wetting the diaper until it's nice and slightly leaking before I start my day. I had just finished eating my eggs and toast when I received two text messages. The first was from my sister Bobbi. ‘Morning Alice! Do you have plans today?” Bobbi asked. The second text was from a mother who called me yesterday asking if I was open today. ‘Hi there, this is Jen, I was wondering if it was still ok to droop off my little girl at 3 to 5?’ So I messaged Jen back first. ‘Good morning, yes that will be fine, I'd be glad to watch your little girl.’ I texted her. ‘Thank you!’ Jen texted me. I then went back to Bobbi’s message. ‘Today I'll be watching little Alice until 4, and a new baby until 5. I'm free after that.’ I texted her. ‘Perfect! Marylynn and I will be over at 5, we got something great to show you!<3!<3!<3!’ Bobbi texted me.’P.S. don't use your diaper all day!’ I couldn't help but giggle wondering what got her so excited, and to be honest, I was getting a little excited. About an hour later I heard the doorbell and immediately went to answer it. “Aunty Mair!” Alice yelled as the 13-year-old girl as she gave me a great big hug. “Hi, Alice, its great to see you,” I told the girl as I hugged her back and looked up at the driveway and waved to the girl's father as he drove away. We (technically) were not related by blood but Alice has been coming to my daycare for the last three years and considers me family. “Can we have fun time today?” Alice asked me and I couldn't help but giggle. “We just have a baby coming today so it should be fine,” I tell her as she cheered and ran off into the bathroom. When she first came to my daycare she started having bladder problems and needed to wear diapers. After about a year she had finally stopped needing them but found that she started to like wearing them. A few times I caught her trying to sneak one on or take one home with her. Her parents didn't like it however and wanted her to stop which made her very upset. So I decided to make a deal with her, on days I didn't take care of kids older the 4 I would diaper her and let her be a baby for the day until she was picked up. She gladly accepted the offer and now it has become our little secret. At least that's what she thinks. As soon as I got the diaper on her I had her slip on a pair of sweets and come into the living room. “You can play until lunch time, then I want to check your homework. Remember, if you get bad grades you can't come over anymore,” I told Alice who agreed and ran over to play. Alice wasn't the only one I made a deal with. Alice’s grades were dropping a bit so I made a deal with Alice's parents. If they let Alice play baby girl while she’s at my daycare, I guarantee Alice would keep her grades at up to a B average. They were skeptical but decided to allow it and sure enough within 3 weeks, Alice's grades shot up. Now both parties are happy. “Ow and Alice were going to have a baby gest today,” I told her as I went to prepare a bottle for the little girl. ********************** williams POV It was 3 PM Sunday afternoon as Jen wheeled me up to a large house. All day Jen has been walking me all over town, no real destination. I was wondering what she had planned for me this time. Jen knocked on the front door and we were greeted by a beautiful blonde haired woman who greeted us. “Hello, you must be Jen Farbison, it's nice to meet you. I'm Mis. Mare and the owner of this daycare.” Mis. mare greeted Jen before looking down at me with a smile. DAYCARE!? I thought “Hi, Mis.Mare, it's great to meet you too. This here is Sissy Nellie Farbison, my daughter.” Jen said and I began getting mad at that lie. “Someone looks a little fussy.” Mis. Mare said as she bent down to get a good look at me. “But don't you look just like an adorable bunny” I was still in my ridiculous bunny outfit from last night with the white dress, paw mittens, paw booties, bunny ears, and white plastic pants with a cotton tale on the end. “Yes she is, she also has a little medical condition. She needs to keep her hands in mittens and a special pacifier on her to keep her from hurting herself.” Jen told Mis.Mare. “That’s fine, I deal with a few other special needs kids from time to time. Just tell me a little more about it and we should be all good.” Mis.Mare told Jen as she held the door opened and let us inside. Once we were inside I could immediately smell a tone of baby powder. “ANT MARE!” a girl yelled as they went up to Alice holding a piece of paper. “I can't do this problem!” The girl looked to be around 13 and looked a lot like Mis.Mare with her long blond hair. They honestly could have been sisters. “I'll be over to help you in a second, I'm currently with someone at the moment sweety.”Mis.Mare told the girl who noticed Jen and me. “What a cute baby,” the girl said as she flashed us a smile before leaving the room. “That was Alice, she is a regular at my daycare.” Mis.mare told Jen before leading us into a small office room. Here Jen told Mis.Mare a bogus story about how I was mentally ill and needed the pacifier and mittens, and how I'm really fussy to deal with. Basically as many lies as needed to prevent Mis.Mare from finding out who I really am. After they stopped talking Jen asked if she could take me to the bathroom to get a quick change before she left. Once in the bathroom Jen unstrapped me from the stroller and laid me down on a very large changing table. One big enough for an adult. “Ok Sissy, Mommy is going to be gone for a little while and I want you to be very good,” Jen said as she removed my wet diaper and replaced it with a new diaper. But before she taped it on Jen got out the tube of ice hot and my eyes went wide. I was screaming and crying as she pressed the tub against my asshole. Hoping, no, BEGGING her not to do it! “If your not good, then mommy will pour the entire tube into your bum,” Jen said with a smile as she put the tube away. Ow, thank god! I was then taped into the diaper before Jen got out another and taped it on me as well before sliding the plastic pants on me. However, that wasn't the end as Jen showed me something special about the panties. They had a special chain inside of them and with the help of a heart-shaped lock, the panties were completely locked. “We wouldn't want a stranger to see your little clit now would we?” Jen whispered in my ear as she picked me up and took me to see Mis.Mare. “I'll be back in two hours to pick her up,” Jen told her as she handed me over and kissed my cheek before leaving. “Don't you have just the nicest mommy.” Mis.mare said as she took me into her living room where she set me inside a giant play area. The play area had a playhouse on one end, a small table with coloring books on it, there was a tv set up playing Mack JR (fake tv program), a toy slide, and dozens of toys scattered around. “You play here for a moment while I go fetch you a bottle.” Mis.mare said as she left the room. I was looking around the room when Alice came over to greet me. “Aren't you just the cutest little thing,” Alice said as she stepped into the play area and grabbed a few stuffed animals and tried to play with me. I began to scream behind the pacifier and I began to struggle hoping to communicate with her but with no luck. I finally decided to say fuck it and try to walk towards the nearest exit before tripping and falling on my face due to the diapers. "Silly thing, were playing with toys right now," Alice said as she picked me up and set me down by the toys again. I noticed a coloring set right next to me, and I immediately tried to grab a crayon to write her a message with, to tell her I wasn't actually a baby. But with the mittens on I couldn't even pick up the crayon, and I screamed in frustration. "Someone is in a difficult mood today," Alice said picked me to examine me before she laid me down face-down on her knee, and softly patted my back. I let out a large burp, and the girl giggled. Not sure why, but that is when I relieved myself of needing to take a dump, and I completely messed the diaper I had on, instantly turning my seat to mush. I hoped that she would smell it, go to change me, and find that I had male private parts, but the diapers were too thick to let out most of the smell. "Awww, you are sooo cute!" Alice said and beginning to poke my chest, "I love baby girls so much." “You two having fun?” Mis.mare asked as she returned with a bottle in hand. “Would you like to feed her?” “Yes please,” Alice said as she took the bottle and Mis.Mare removed the pacifier cap just like Jen showed her and Alice stuck the bottle into it. Apon tasting the contents, however, I nearly gagged as the formulary went into my mouth. “Come on baby girl, drink up so you can grow big,” Alice said as she began bouncing me lightly. I hated it but I wound up drinking the whole thing before Alice began to burp me. “You are getting really good at this Alice, you'll become a great mommy when you grow up.” Mis Mare told her as she watched everything. “You remind me of my sister Bobbi and I when I would feed her like this.” With that Alice stood up and gave me to Mis.Mare who gave me a tickle. Then she began to smell the air. “I think someone just made a mess in her diaper.” Mis.Mare told us. Does that mean the smell from my diapers got out? Does that mean I'm going to get a change and they will finally see I'm not a girl! But instead of checking me, Mis.Mare went behind Alice and pulled back the waistband of her pants to reveal a messy diaper! What the hell! I thought. “You stay right here for a minute while I go chang miss stinky bomb over there.” Mis.Mare said as she sat me down in the play area once more and took the teen girl into the bathroom to have her diaper changed. I can't believe I just meet someone else that uses diapers without being forced! When they came back, Mis.Mare picked me up from the play area and took me to a different room, this one full of cribs. “Now that you've had your baba, its time for a little nap.” Mis.Mare said as she pleased me into a crib and gave me a blanket. “And I think little Alice here needs one as well.” “Aww, do I have to?” the teen protested as Mis.mare lowered the side of a much larger crib for Alice to lay down in. “Yes, you know the rules, babies take naps.” Mis.mare said as she picked the teen girl up with ease and sat her down in the crib before leaving for a moment and returning with another bottle. This one, however, wasn't for me as Mis.Mare tried to give it to Alice but accidentally dropped it. “Oh dear.” Mis.Mare said as she bent down to pick up the bottle and I notice the back of her dress rise up to reveal she was also wearing a diaper! What the hell was going on with these people?!? Mis.Mare handed Alice the bottle who happily began drinking it as the bars of the crib were lifted up. “Have a nice nap baby girls.” Mis.mare said as she turned off the lights and left the room. 2 hours later I was woken up from my nap by Jen who picked me up. “How was my little girl! Were you good?” Jen asked. “Like an angel.” Mis.Mare told her as she entered the room. I looked over and noticed Alice was no longer in the crib and must have woke up before Jen got here. “That's good because I got a special surprise for my good girl!” Jen said as she bounced me up and down and I noticed my very heavy diaper. “Come back to play soon.” Mis.Mare told us as Jen place me back into the stroller and pushed me out or the house, just as two other women were heading to the house. They complimented on how cute I looked before we passed them. “Hey Alice, we just got a new product in and we were wondering if you would like to try it with us?” I heard one of the women say. ****************************** Alices pov I immediately let my diaper sisters in and had them sit in the living room. “How was your day? Bobbi asked as she and Marylynn shutdown. “It was good, little Alice went home in a wet pull up and you just saw the new Baby leave,” Alice told her sisters. “We saw, the bunny outfit was so cute on her, I now want one,” Marylynn commented. “So you have a new product for your store?” I asked wondering what it could be. “Yep and we wanted you to test it out with us!” Bobbi said as she held out a package. “What is it?” I asked as I opened it up to see diapers inside. “Diapers?” “Not just any diapers,” Marylynn said as I pulled it out and got excited. They were extra big and extra thick! Not only that but this one also had my name on it! “They are specially made ABDL diapers that are made to order, our business partner makes them custom made for every order and asked us to sell it on our site,” Bobbi said as she pulled out one that had her name on it. “But before we ever start selling we always make sure the products are good and we thought you might want to join in on the fun,” Marylynn told me grabbing her’s. I didn't need to be told anymore as I immediately tore off my pants and dry diaper too but on the new one. The diaper was so thick I couldn't even close my legs if I wanted to. The inside felt nice and soft, I even began bouncing on my bottom. “We know you're a heavy wetter and we thought these would work great for you,” Bobbi said as she put her’s on. “Now it's time for the fun part,” Marylynn said as she had her diaper on and pulled out 3 little vials. “We got to test them to see how good they work.” I knew what she had and happily waddled into my kitchen to grab is 3 bottles of chocolate milk and poured the special laxatives into them. “To diapers!” Bobbi said as we knocked our bottles together and began drinking them as fast as we could. Once we were done with the bottle Bobbi took out her laptop and began typing out her thoughts and began asking us how we thought of the diapers so far. “it's amazing, nice and soft in all places but not too soft to where I'm afraid it won't hold anything,” I told Bobbi as I poked at the diaper and felt the urge to pee. “When can we pee?” “Just a few minutes, I still need to make the review,” Bobbi said as she finished typing her review and handed it to Marylynn who also began typing. Once they were done if it was excitement or if I really needed to go but I was bouncing up and down trying not to pee. “Ok, now we can pee,” Marylynn said as the three of us began filling our diapers and letting out loud sighs of relief. “What do you think?” Bobbi asked. “It's so absorbent, most of my diapers leak after I use them and the ones that could, would leak if they took another soak. With these, I think I could pee in them 4 times before they got full.” I told them who also agreed. With that, the three of us began playing around in our diapers to see if they could stand up to any ABDL playing. And sure enough, they could. No leaks, or anything. It retains its shape and I couldn't be happier. Then the laxatives hit us like a ton of bricks as we felt the first of the cramps. I tried to hold it as long as possible as Marylynn was the first to neal over and fill her diaper. Marylynn never really eat a lot so we never noticed any bulge or anything. Heck with how big they were we couldn't even smell it. Bobbi was next to fill her diaper and this time we notice a small bulge but nothing that couldn't be used again. Finally, I was the last one. Thankfully I only peed in my diaper this morning and still needed to go from yesterday. I stopped fighting the need to go and I filled the diaper up as much as I could. “Amazing,” Bobbi said as she gave my diaper a pat. “Even with so much you still can't smell it!” It was true, these diapers were amazing and meant to be used more than once. I couldn't help but love the feeling and wished we had them a few years ago. I could almost picture mommy coming into the room to see three diapered girls playing in their full diapers, not worrying about the smell and letting us have our fun. “Bobbi, I need you to do me a favor,” I tell her. “What's that?” Bobbi asked. “Order me 100 more of these.” I happily told her as I bounced on my diapered bottom and letting the mess spread. There was no way I was taking this diaper off until tomorrow night. https://pinkthedinosaur.deviantart.com/art/Baby-Care-Class-remix-part-10-Be-good-for-mommy-720157810?ga_submit_new=10%3A1513326363
  12. Northern Indiana

    Hi my name is Caleb and I wanted to introduce myself to others in the abdl community. I live near south bend indiana and wanted to meet with others who like diapers.
  13. I am searching for a daddy/mommy to do a nonsexual RP with, the plot is: You were VERY mad at me, a 13 year old teen, I had a report card with only F's. You decided you needed to have a huge punishment, during the whole you are treated like a baby, sleeping in a crib, crawling or being carried, I need to use my diaper, I needed to adress you as mommy/daddy. You enjoys this punishment very much because of your kinks, but I don't like it at all. You have a set of very clear rules I needed to follow, if I did not follow them I would be punished.
  14. DISCLAIMER!!!!! The original story does not belong to me, this is just a personal remake and updated version of Baby Care Class by wndash2 (link to there page at the bottom) they wrote this story a few years ago, and I liked it at the time. But recently after rereading the whole thing, I realized there wasn't much of a story here besides a guy being tortured for no real reason. So because I like making stories, I began thinking up a story to help fix that problem. If you haven't yet, please go check out the original. _________ Paradise private College, how the hell I wound up going here I don't know. Most of my grades suck, and I barely attended high school anyway. The only reason I'm even going to this college is by some miracle my mother sent in a college application that got excepted. “Look! You can either go to the school or get the fuck out of my house!” my mom yelled at me the day I said I wouldn't go. "All you do if fuck off and don't work. The only people in this house that get to do that are kids in school, the sick, or the retired!” I will admit that I may not have been the best son. But hell, having a rare condition that makes you look 4 feet tall will make you hate the world. I'm not a dwarf, per say, I'm just the first with a new rare genetic disorder that stopped me from growing. I just look like an average person was shrunk down. Heck if it wasn't for the facial hair I have then most people would assume I'm a child. Which has happened to me more than once! So my mother made me a deal. She would pay for the school, an apartment for me and give me a 200 dollar allowance for food every two weeks if I went. However, I must attend classes. If I miss classes more than four times without a doctor's note, she will cut all ties with me. So because I didn't want to work yet, I decided to go. Plus who doesn't like going to college parties? So I traveled nearly two states away just for school. Paradise private College was built a long time ago and was made on top of a large hill. Why they decided on that, I have no idea. Maybe because the rich people who built it meant it only for the upper class at the time. But thanks to it being on such a large hill a lot of people have to climb a ton of stairs just to get to the school, and for a short guy like me, that's just hell. One of the thing that came with the acceptance letter was another letter attached saying they were introducing a new program for people and that he was one of the few to start in it. It was a program to help people who didn't have the best grades in high school still go to college, just with a little extra help. That help was having to get to the school at 7:00 Am, an hour before the school opened, and attend a catch-up class. By the time I got to the top, I was even more exhausted than when I woke up this morning. Everything was dark outside and very cold. Even with a jacket on, I was freezing. I took a look at my phone that said it was 6:50, well at least I wasn't late. I walked over to the front of the school and tried to open the doors, but they were locked. What the hell? “Excuse me? Are you lost?” a woman asked me. I quickly looked and saw a gorgeous blond hair woman. “Um ya, I'm William, and I'm here for the catch-up class,” I told her. “well so am I, I can show you where it is.” the women told me with a warm smile as she pointed in the direction we had to go. “Thank you, um?” I told her. “Jen, my name is Jen,” she told me as I followed her around the school and to a back door. “I came here last week and was told where it was. Because it's such a new program, the school placed it in the back.” I guess that made since I thought as I walked through the door and into a hallway. The hallway was pretty dark with a few dim lights but near the end of the hall was a bright room lighting up the entrance. I walked over to the light with Jen right behind me. But when I got to the doorway of the room I stopped in confusion as instead of a classroom with a bunch of desks, there was instead what looked like a giant nursery? “What the heck?” I asked when I was suddenly pushed into the room and Jen locked the door. “You have no idea how long I waited for this,” Jen said as she immediately grabbed me and lifted me into the air. I tried to fight back but thanks to my small size I was nothing to her as she threw me onto a table and began strapping me to the table. “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!” I screamed at her before she rubbed some weird cream stuff on my face before large pacifier was shoved into my mouth and strapped to the back of my head. “Quiet you, babies shouldn't scream,” Jen told me as she lifted scissors into the air and I grew even more scared. So scared that I began to piss my pants. “Aww, would you look at that. The baby had an accident. Well, that's what happens when you don't wear the right protection.” I had no idea what she was talking about as she then began to cut off my I'm, before throwing them into a trash can. She then proceeded to get out a giant diaper which I began to thrash around after seeing it. But since I wasn't able to get free Jen just taped the diaper onto me with no real difficulty. Next came two large pink mittens put over my hands. I didn't see what she grabbed next but one at a time Jen unstrapped my arms and legs before putting something on me and restriping me in place. When she finished, she took one last look at me with a broad smile on her face. Jen then unstrapped me and lifted me up. Agin, I tried to fight, but nothing worked. Jen the put me on the ground beside a large mirror and had me take a look, and I was horrified! I was in a tiny pink baby girl's dress that only covered half of the thick diaper Jen put me in, a pair of white stocking was on my legs, and I was wearing mary jane shoes that were somehow just my size! Since I haven't had a chance to get a haircut yet, my hair was slightly long. For some reason when I took a closer look all my facial hair was also gone and with everything else just made me look like a girl toddler! I immediately began screaming into the pacifier, but only a muffle came out. Jen just laughed at the whole thing as she looked at me with a broad smile on her face. “I think someone must be hungry.” gen said as she picked me up again to re strapped me to the table. Jen then walked over to a mini-fridge and pulled out a large bottle of milk. “This will help the baby grow,” she said mockingly as she unscrewed something at the top of the pacifier and attach the bottle to it. “Now drink up sweetie, or I'll have to hold your nose to force you to drink.” I didn't care what she said, I wasn't drinking it. That is until Jen did plug my nose and forced me to drink just to get air. I was only ¾ done with the bottle when I began to feel full and stopped drinking. “Come on baby, you need to finish it,” Jen told me as she plugged my nose again and this time didn't let go until the bottle was gone. “Good girl.” Jen then removed the bottle, and I was panting heavily. I felt like my stomach would burst at any minute. My stomach was slightly bloated, and Jen decided to give it a little rub before smiling at me. “Alright, that's enough for now," Jen said before unstrapping me and cared me over to a large baby crib where she laid me on my back before taking a large lid and placing it on top of the crib, making it impossible for me to climb out. Suddenly I heard a loud bell and Jen made her way to the door. I got on my knees and began banging on the crib bars. "Well, I got to get to class, but I’ll be back to take you to the Baby Care Class!" Jen told me excitedly, before turning off the lights and leaving me alone in the dark, dressed as a toddler. Thank you for reading ^.^ I much appreciate it! Here's the link to the original story that I hope you check out. https://wndash2.deviantart.com/art/Baby-Care-Class-Part-1-363391183
  15. me in diapers

    From the album My Diaper Pics

  16. Depends Diapers

    From the album My Diaper Pics

  17. Depends

    From the album My Diaper Pics

  18. Be good for mommy

    I posted this story before but that glitch messed it up so I have to repost it. but I also decided to go through and fix a lot of mistakes I had in this story so her is the fixed version. It was a chilly Saturday morning, The sun just barely peeking out behind the trees. Not a cloud in sight. Such a Beautifull day to be in school detention. As we pulled into the high school, I found it really weird to look at it without all the kids running around. Granite Hills School (random school name) was a medium-sized school with nothing much to it. The only thing the school is well known for is that 4 years ago it was one of the worst high schools for bullying, high pregnancies, and dropouts. Then one day they hired a disciplinary teacher, and everything was fixed. Being freshmen, I haven't yet seen the teacher myself, and for some reason, no one ever wants to talk about it. As we pulled up to the front of the school, we were greeted by a tall 6-foot blond girl. She didn't look much older than me, and I guess she was a senior also in trouble. “Excuse me, when will the teacher be here?” my dad asked the girl. “That would be me, I'm Mis.Mare the disciplinary teacher,” she said with a smile. To our shock, both dad and I got out of the car to shake her hand and apologize for not knowing. “It's no problem it happens all the time.” she then looked over at me and gave me a smile. “So how does this work exactly. Does Sara have to come here every week? Or….” my dad asked wanting to know how long I would be punished. “Ow no for what she did today will be all. Mostly she just has to finish her test and anything else she might not have finished.” Mis.Mare told him before handing him a couple pieces of paper. “This is everything you'll need to know, and I would ask you read it as soon as you can.” he nodded in agreement while she looked back to me. she then gestured for me to follow her into the school building. As we walked through the empty halls, she leads me to a room labeled D-1. Walking in I saw that it was the size of a small class and looked like one except for the one desk in the middle of the room. “Why is their only one desk? Aren't there more students coming?” I asked. “Nope, you're the only one,” she told me as she walked to her desk and held up a folder. I walked over to sit down. After a moment of silence, she turned around and began writing on the board. 1 finish test. 2 punishment/lines As she wrote that I thought back to yesterday. All I did was not go to my math class and played on my phone in the girl's bathroom. I didn't even know we were having a test until I was caught. At least my punishment is writing lines. “Before we start I want to ask if you have any other homework you would like to do while you're here?” She asked, and I shook my head no. “ok so here's how it'll work you after you finish your test you'll have your punishment, lines and then you can go home.” she told me with a smile as she handed me my test and a water bottle. The test wasn't hard and besides Mis.Mare leaving for a few minutes to check something I was done within 40 minutes. “Done already?” she asked as she picked up both my test and empty water bottle. Throwing the bottle away she placed the test into the folder. “Ok then now please come up to the desk please,” she asked me, and I did. I guess she's just going to give me a pen and a sentence to write. Mis.Mare then picked up the folder off her empty desk and put it into a drawer before asking me to lift out my hands. When I did, I heard a click and felt a cold metal on my hands and realized I was just handcuffed! “What the hell!” I yelled as I tried to get away from Mis.Mare but she just gripped the handcuffs harder and pulled me over her desk and looped the handcuffs into a lock leaving me lying on the desk with my legs kicking over the edge. “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!” I screamed, but she shoved something into my mouth and strapped it behind my head to silence me. “I told you earlier after you finish your test its punishment, lines and then you can go home. This is your punishment before your lines.” this bitch said with that same simple smile as if this was the most normal thing in the world before walking behind me. I tried to kick her, but she just grabbed my legs and moved them before she grabbed the sides of my pants and pulling them down to my feet. I tried my hardest to do something, to kick her but she just pinned my legs down by putting her foot on my pants keeping my feet stuck to the floor. “What cute undies you have,” she said as my face blushed beet red. SMACK! I screamed as loud as I could when this woman smacked my bare ass. But the sound was muffled by the thing in my mouth. “That's 1 for ditching class,” she said. my tears started flowing as she raised her left hand and smacked my left butt check this time and I screamed again. “1 for playing on your phone during a class period.” Mis.Mare went on from there with each lousy thing I did. Again and again. By the end, I was out of breath and worn out. Mis.Mare walked around her desk and opened a cabinet before looking at my red teary-eyed face and gave me that same smile. “The worst is over, just going to give you some stuff to help the pain,” she said as she took out a paper bag and went behind me again. After a few moments and hearing some rustling sounds she quickly pulled my panties down. I began to squirm again until I felt a cold hand on my butt. “This is some special cream to stop the burning.” she told me before squirting moor cream on me and rubbing it in.” I was so embarrassed, but at the same time, I had to agree that the cream was soothing. I soon began to relax a bit, or as much as I could in this situation. Until I felt something weird as Mis.Mare started to poke my butthole and quickly slid a finger in, and I bit down hard on the thing in my mouth. “Ow so tight. I know exactly what will work,” Mis.Mare said as began sliding her finger in and out and looking into her bag for something else. When she finally removed her finger something bigger was put in. “good girl, that plug fits you perfectly.” I have no idea what she did next, I could feel that she put something fluffy on my butt and wrapped it around my crotch before taking a marker and writing something on it. She then started sliding my foot out of my pants and underwear and sliding something else up my legs and over the first thing before I heard a click. Mis.Mare then picked my clothes off the floor and walked back in front of me. Still, with that smile, she folded both my pants and underwear and placed them into the bag before taking a stapler and stapled the bag shut. Then with a marker, she wrote ‘for daddy’ on it before setting it aside. “Great! your punishment is over!” Mis.Mare said with an excited tone as I just glared at her. She then undid the gag, and I now could see it looked like a big pacifier? She then held up a set of keys in front of me. “Now be a good girl, and I'll use this one to let you out,” she said to me. “Fuck... you.” I panted at her, but she kept smiling. “I'll let that one go just this once after what just happened,” she told me before she grabbed a key and undid the handcuffs. The moment she did I jumped to my feet and tried to run to the door, but with the combination of the buttplug and a bulk between my legs, I quickly tripped and fell down. “What the!” I yelled as I spun around to look at what was between my legs and my brain couldn't comprehend what it was at first. “W-wh..” “It's a diaper, Sara. Something all bad kids get here.” Mis.Mare said to me as she watched me try to take it off but couldn't as it had some type of cover over it with a chain and lock. “That only comes off when you are done with your lines,” she told me. I tried to yell at her, then decided to leave, but the door was locked. I wanted to call the cops, but my phone was in my pants, and she just put them into her cabinet and held out a pen. “You can try whatever you want, but you're not leaving until I get my lines. ‘I will be a good girl for mommy’ 100 times.” she told me as she sat back in her seat, that stupid smile not leaving her face. In the end, she was right I couldn't do anything. So I waddled my way back to the board and began to reluctantly write my lines. I had just finished writing 28 linens when I felt a major cramp in my stomach. “Can I use the bathroom!?” I asked Mis.Mare. “You may use the bathroom when your lines are done. I promise.” Mis.Mare told me, so I continued. I tried my hardest to focus on my lines but I kept getting those cramps every few minutes, and I had to stop until it passed. Once it did, I tried to write faster making my handwriting sloppy, but I finally covered the entire board and Mis.Mare began counting the lines as I bent over with another cramp. “So close but that's only 97. What bad handwriting,” Mis.mare told me. “But it's close enough. Please let me use the bathroom!” I pleaded. “Nope, I said 100 and since you can't do it the first time let's erase it all and start over,” she told me as she held out an eraser. “NOOOO!” I screamed. “Please, I'll do anything just let me finish!” I pleaded with her as tears began streaming down my face. “Aww with a face like that it's hard to say no. Ok, I have an idea. Be a good girl for mommy and come here.” she told me. I was in so grateful I didn't even bother to correct her that she wasn't my mommy. I walked over to her, and she spun me around. I heard a faint CLICK before she turned me around again and pulled the plastic covering off revealing the big white diaper I had on. “I'll make you deal.you can either start over on the board, or you can be a good girl for mommy and finish your 3 lines on your diaper,” she told me before standing up and walking away. I looked down at the diaper and began to writing ‘i will be a good girl for mommy, I will be a good girl for mommy, I will be a good girl for mommy. On my diaper. Once I was finished, I looked up at Mis.Mare who now held out a pink skirt. “Good girl! Now let's get this on you and let you relieve yourself,” she told me with her smile, and I couldn't help but smile back as I let her help me get it on. It was a cheap skirt and it just barely covered my diaper. I was so glad it was Saturday so no one could see me like this as we walked through the school. As soon as we got to the bathroom, I reached for the door, but it was locked. Suddenly a massive cramp hit and I fell to my knees clenching my stomach. “It's ok. The school is closed, so all the bathrooms are locked but don't worry. You'll be able to go soon.” Mis.Mare told me before reaching out her hand. “Now be a good girl for mommy and take my hand. I did as I was told and she helped me back up before leading me by the hand to the front of the school. I could see out the door and see my dad's car already waiting for us as I began to whimper. “you're a good girl. It's time to go see daddy. Be a good girl for mommy.” Mis.Mare said as we walked to the car and my face was bright red. My dad rolled down the window and looked at us. “How did it go?” he asked. “It was perfect. She is almost done.” Mis.Mare told him Wait almost? What does she mean? “Ok I'll wait.” he told us as he took the paper bag with ‘for daddy’ on it from Mis.Mare. “Be a good girl for mommy and put your hands on the car.” Mis.Mare told me with her smile, and I did what I was told. She then got behind me to lift up my skirt and slide her hand into the back of the diaper and grabbed the butt plug. I began to whimper more before she whispered in my ear. “You're going to be a good girl from now on. You won't tell anyone about what happened today. You're going to feel really good soon. And if my baby girl wants to feel better then, be a good girl for mommy and use your diaper.” she said and pulled the plug out. My eyes went wide and misty as everything I was holding in was now coming out! My legs began to buckle as I squatted down as everything come out as I started moaning from the pleasure of releasing it all. Without realizing it, I began to let go of my bladder as well. I was squatting on the ground shaking when Mis.Mare opened the back seat door and helped my trembling body into the car and helped me get my seatbelt on before looking me in the eyes. She then started rubbing the front of my pee soaked diaper sending a shiver up my spine. “If the baby girl wants this again then be a good girl for mommy,” she told me. I had that same smile she had as I said “Yes mommy.” part 2 I had Sara place her hands on the car as I lifted up her skirt revealing her diaper and ‘time bomb written on the back. I then slid my hand into her diaper before whispering in her ear what to do and pulled her plug out. I quickly put the plug into a plastic baggie before placing it into my purse as the little girl succumbs to her please. Once she was done I helped her up and into the car but not before fixing the skirt up to show off her full diaper. I had to fight back a tear when I heard the girl call me mommy because I knew she was entirely under then. I watched the car drive away before I walked back into the school thinking of what will happen to Sara next. As soon as they get home, her daddy will follow the instructions I gave him. The first is to leave her in the diaper for a few hours. If she weren't broken by me, this would help with the punishment, if she was, well this will be a fun experience for her. Next would be to make lunch and give her the chocolate I added into the bag before getting her clean and giving her clothes back. Agin if she wasn't mine she would just get more humiliation, but if she was then, they might start to get a fetish for it. And lastly another diaper. Eather as a punishment or reward. Either way, it doesn't matter. I walked into the room labeled D-2 and into my office. It was a beautiful place I created for myself as I sat down at my desk and opened Sara’s folder before turning on the baby monitor next to me. Over the monitor, I could hear my little girls playing happily in another room. Back to my paperwork I began writing down my session with Sara and started giving her marks. She was a good kid, easy to punish, and while hesitant at first came around real quick. I wrote a few more things before I the folder away. I then looked up at the photo of a strawberry blond girl wearing very revealing clothing and I couldn't help but think back to 6 years ago ************************************************* I was the 2nd child in my family of 8. My mother was the type to have a man get her pregnant before forcing them to pay for the kid and doing anything she could so she wouldn't have to work. Including breaking her own leg to try to sue a small company. Between my siblings and me we all never really got along. Most of the time it was just found for yourself. The school was no better. People knew about my family and liked to call us trash. It was like the pot calling the kettle black, as most of the school was trash. The classes were just full of fucked up people. If you were nice you were bullied, if you were rich, you were pampered. If you were ugly you were abused, if you were hot everyone wanted in your pants. Most teachers here quit after just a year or two. It's incredible the school could even function. The only good thing in the entire school was just one teacher. An old army vet named Mr.Hobson. He didn't take shit from anyone. Always ready to put people in their place. He was the math/PE teacher. His class was the only safe haven in the school where the bullies know they couldn't mess with him. During breaks he let us stay in his class just to get away from them. He was a great teacher until Alice Young transferred to our school. She was the very definition of hot at the school. Tight body, big chest, dressed like a slut. From what I heard at the time was that she was raped by a teacher and they moved here to get away from the memories. The truth is that she was fucking a teacher for better grades and was caught. She claimed it was rape and everyone believed her. Even though she was a junior, she began to rule the school. It was just before the second half of school that we got a progress report that showed what our grade was and a possibility to improve it before the final grade. My classes were decent, mostly C’s and B’s though I could work in history a bit more as it was a D' I didn't really care and neither did my mom. Alice Young’s grads, however, were different. Every class she had were A’s except two, math and PE both at F’s. Everyone knew why she flirted with or manipulated all the teachers except Mr.Hobson. She couldn't accept not getting what she wanted, and at the time her own daddy was starting to restrict her a bit, so she decided to get rid of them both. A week before grades came out the school was in an uproar. Alice Young came to school all beat up, her dad was arrested, and Mr.Hobson never came back to school. Alice tricked her dad into thinking Mr.Hobson beat and raped her so he would kill him. She then told the cops it was her own father that hit and raped her and that he killed the old man for giving his daughter terrible grades. It was just so sick and twisted what that girl would do just to get her way. I didn't go to school for a month after that. I couldn't stand that school anymore, and my mother and family didn't care. It wasn't until I heard that Mr.Hobson family was selling his stuff did I decide to finally leave the house. Mr.Hobson had a lot of random things he collected over the years, too much for his kids to really keep. So they gathered the ones that had memories and a few valuables and sell the rest. Looking around I could see stuff from everywhere he was stationed. It wasn't until I noticed a small box did I ask heat it was. It was just some old puzzle box he got in Japan. He always said it was magic and that it would only be granted to those who opened it. I got it for $5. It's not like I thought I was actually magic but it was cool looking, and I wanted something to remember Mr.Hobson. It was 3 days later that I figured out how to open the box. I was so excited that for a moment I actually thought I might see the magic! But instead, it was just an empty box. I know I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up, but I still made a little wish. ‘I wish I could change people. It was a few weeks later that I finally discovered my new abilities. By this point, I had been missing a lot of schools, and my mom didn't like me lazing about the house. We got into a fight about being lazy, and she stormed out of the house when I told her ‘just get a job and support your family you lazy bitch!”. The next day for the first time ever she stunned us all when she said she had a job interview. At first, I couldn't believe it, and over the next few weeks, I began to work on my new powers. I have a type of hypnosis. Depending on the age and gender determine how I can manipulate people. For adults are the easiest. Their minds are full grown and don't change as much. However the younger you are the harder it is to get you under and takes a bit more reinforcement. When I finally realized this, I decided it was time to get a little bitch back. I was still learning how to control my powers, but I came up with a plan to do both. As soon as I got back to school, I convince the school to let me work on my grades and catch up. With that out of the way, I began my research on Alice and finding out everyone she’s ever dated, for how long and why they broke up. She dated anyone with power and used them until they were useless to her. Mostly she goes after the caption of any sports team that has the spotlight on them. It didn't take much to manipulate the track team, and before long I had them all under in a matter of days. Next, I began to date the lowest man on the team, Eddy. I was made fun of for a while for being trash that cadets a loser. That is until he began to get better. I merely made him focus and work harder on track, and if he were up against other members of the team, they would sometimes let him win. After a few weeks, I was dating the star of the track team. A zero to hero story, And Alice could see it. Alice then began to put pressure on me to leave him or flirted with him to break up with me. And each time I would tell her ‘you're not woman enough for him’. Eventually i “caught” them making out and pretended to be heartbroken. But I knew I finally won, and all I had to do was watch. Thanks to my reinforcements she wanted to be woman enough for him while he just argued with her that she was just too immature and preferred a woman that was into his kinks. It took a week, but he finally texted me a picture of her peeing her pants for him. This went on until the end of school. By now Alice was utterly in love with him, and she changed a lot. She wore less revealing clothing and instead of being a bitch to everyone she could only be at his side. Everyone thought she had finally changed, that she finally mastered. Nope. She just in lust. The clothing change is to hide the pull up she now wears and she stays so close to him is because he has the remote to the toys she’s using. It was here he told her he was ready to see her as a woman, but first, she had to do something. *************************Alice pov****** It was late at night, but I met Eddy in front of the school. I had a bit of a waddle as I walked up to him wearing a big coat. “Did you do what I asked?” he asked me. My face was bright red, and I was panting a bit as I opened up my coat revealing my almost naked body. The only thing I had on was a diaper, a pacifier wrapped around my neck, and a faint buzzing sound could from the diaper. I tried to lean in for a kiss, but he just stopped me by placing the pacifier into my mouth And told her not yet before taking my coat and leading me into the school. He leads me into a room already prepared for us. Bed, an ice chest and a box that already had some of my favorite toys. Eddy led me to the bed and began taking off his clothes. I was now getting very excited as I tried to remove the diaper Eddy stopped me saying again not yet. He then started kissing my body and play with my breast. When he finally stopped, he began to untaped my diaper. By now I was panting so hard the pacifier fell out of my mouth. He then had a good long look at my naked body. Especially at the toy buzzing away getting me ready for him. That is before he told me I wasn't ready I then began to freak out. I didn't want to stop here! I wanted him to finally go all the way, and I started to plead with him. “Fine, you just have to do one more thing before you're ready,” he told me, and I cheered. He then went over to the box and pulled out a blindfold. Telling me to wear it until he says to take it off. With no way of seeing him, he took out my vibrator and replaced it with an even better one. “That'll keep you occupied until I'm done,” he told me, and I began to tremble with pleasure. I could hear him messing around with something, and I was getting excited. I then decided to start playing with my clit when my hand was smacked away. “Not yet,” he told me. Party pooper... After a moment I felt a nozzle go into my ass and I jumped when the warm water began to fill me. This wasn't my first enema, but it still felt odd to me. “Hands behind your head,” he told me before playing with my breast again while the enema fills me up. When the enema is done, I can feel my stomach bloating a bit. Eddy rubs it and calls me a good girl as he pulls the plug out, and I immediately want to go. Instead, something cold was inserted. “What is that!” I ask. “It's an ice butt plug. The warm water in your tummy will melt it in 2 minutes,” Eddy tells me. He then lifts up my butt, and I feel him put a bigger diaper on me and tape me up. “Are you ready?” he asks. “YES YES IM READY!” I yell just wanting it to be over so we can finally start doing it. “Ok open your eyes,” he tells me, and with a big smile on my face, I remove it to see a flash of bright light. “AWWW she's so precious!” I hear a girl's voice as I blink away the flash I look up to see my boyfriend's ex standing next to him with a camera in one hand and his dick in the other. “Wh-what?” I asked my brain going 60 miles an hour before the girl jumps on top of me pinning my hands to above my head. “It was so fun to watch you play the big girl, but I think it's time you know he never saw you as a real woman,” she says with a smile on her face. “b-but I am a real woman!” I yell at her as I try to get her off but to no use. “Do you remember what I told you a long time ago”? she asked as I looked over to Eddy as he masturbates right in front of me. “ you're not woman enough for him, now enjoy your diaper for mommy.” she said as Eddy turned my vibrator on full blast! No, no! This can't be happening! The vibrations make my entire body shack, and I know it’s only a matter of time before I cum. I don't even notice that mommy got off of me as I grab the front of my diaper. It feels so good that I can finally cum! My body arcs in the air as waves of pleasure wash over me. ************************mommy's pov******************* I watched as both eddy and Alice had their orgasm and Alice fall back to the floor twitching while the back of their diaper began to expand. She even started to moan even more. I knew right then I broke her and took another picture. It was here that things began to change. To start, I had my mom become a better woman by having her get a job and take care of her family. I also made it so my siblings would never become what our mother was. Plus I made one of them into a bed wetter just for fun before I moved out. Alice Young was in the news as she ran away from home stealing her boyfriend's car and leaving a video of her confessing her crimes. Her father was released, and Mr.Hobson’s name was cleared entirely. During that summer the school was being fixed up, and I threw in a few ideas to add since I became the new disciplinary teacher. With my powers, I could possibly rule the world, but I decided I wanted to help it. I wanted to turn this shity school around and make everyone a better person while also adding a bit of my own fun to it. Eddy moved on with his life and forgot everything he did involving Alice and me. I hear he even went to the Olympics not too long ago. I kept this picture of Alice on my desk to help remind me why I do what I do. I smiled at it than I received a buzz in my pocket. I received the message ‘is she ready?’ it asked. ‘Yes, come pick her up at 3:40.’ i replied. Over the baby monitor, I can hear one of them wishing, and I know just what was happening. I sighed and get up to check on the babies. I leave my office and into D-3 that had a staircase leading down to my home. Once I'm down there, I could see my bad baby Alice on top of baby Bobbi.
  19. I'm relatively inexperienced when it come to add-ins (baby powder, baby oil, creams) when it comes to diapers. So I'm here for some advice regarding Desitin. As you can tell from the title I am uncircumcised, so I want to know if there are any ill effect from applying Desitin under my foreskin and if it is even recommended. Thanks in advance for any advice you may have!
  20. So this is something I have been working on, I wasn't originally going to post it here due to it's weird presentation, but I figured I would at least see if anyone was interested in reading it. Here is a link to a more condensed version of the story that might be easier to read if you don't like how it's spread out here. https://the-crusader-network.deviantart.com/art/Story-Mysterion-s-new-curse-Chapter-1-715354006 ---------------
  21. F is for.... (Private for Danny and I)

    Cole and his brother were in big trouble. Report cards are being sent out today and they've both gotten F's in their classes and they knew their parents won't be happy. They both had to run home as fast as they could so they could try to change it to make it look like they got good grades but they saw their mother's car in the driveway
  22. Someone would like to help me mess my diaper? I will have enema stuff and bananas. Wondering if i could add something else! Write and tell!
  23. Hi! I’m new here and I bought my first diapers yesterday. I’m a 20 year old girl and I would love to talk to some of you, so please take contact. I would like to hear stories about everything concerning diapers really:)
  24. The Diapered Story of Robin Smith and Her Unconventional Solutions. 1. *The sound of Jawas fills the cab of my car making me smile.*Allen told me they were haggling over scrap on Tatooine, but I had no clue. Don’t get me wrong, I love those movies, but nothing like my husband does. Clearly, he has been messing with my phone again. “Ok Google, Read New Text.” I tell the dead air in my car while rolling my eyes at my nerdy husband’s antics. “You have one new text from Allen at five thirty-two PM. Do you want to hear it?” “Yes.” I tell my phone.The female computerized voice reads back my husband’s text. It is an odd juxtaposition listening to his words and imagining his face to the female’s jilting voice. Google reads, “Shit hone. That ducks. You don’t have a lot of options there.”Autocorrect hates him. It always makes me giggle while I try to interpret what he’s going on about. I get tired of dictating to my phone and pick it up directly. Normally, I’d wait and talk slowly through the menu’s to send a reply, but it wasn’t dangerous just sitting here. I’m not about to text and drive. That shit is dangerous!I text him back.[Me:] Radio says there’s a tractor trailer rig overturned. I’m locked in. I can’t stop bouncing my legs. I gotta pee so freaking bad! At least Molly’s sleeping through it. Thank god for pool day.[Allen:] ITH (our own code – In The House)[Me:] You never beat me home! (Yeah, I’m whining at this point.)[Me:] I don’t know what to do! If I pee my pants, the leather will be fine but the carpet…[Allen:] You can’t do anything about it babe. Don’t hurt yourself. I’ll have the car cleaned.[Me:] You’d use Bill though! We KNOW them![Allen:] You have a leaky 3.5 year old in the car. They won’t know who it was. [Me:] Still, I’d know…[Allen:] Getting in the shower. Text me when you finally break free. [Me:] KI sit there looking around at an utter loss. Molly’s daycare is only fifteen minutes away from the house on the interstate. I had come up on the wreck just after I picked up my daughter. I was still a mile away if the radio report was correct. I was locked in and at a full stop before I knew what had happened. No matter which direction I look, all I can see are cars. Worse, I’m on an inside lane and can’t even off-road through the median! I’m stuck tight, and my bladder isn’t happy about it. In fact, it feels like it’s going to be downright rebellious.The tide is changing and I began to lose the fight with lactic acid and muscle fatigue. I shouldn’t have left the house without peeing first, but I thought I’d be home in thirty minutes! Turns out that was a bad decision, one that was biting me in the ass. The muscles between my legs twinge. I’m long past the pain stages. In fact, everything that I’ve been clinching is numb. I smack at my knees trying to get some feeling back into my legs and to distract myself from the numbness and the impending disaster. I start singing along to the radio at the top of my lungs. That distraction doesn’t work either. Molls, just keep sleeping baby. Mommy can’t handle peeing herself in front of you. I thought dreading the implications that seeing me wet myself would have on my daughter. Allen said I could blame the mess on my little Molls, but that doesn’t feel right either. I need a solution. Spontaneously, a really crazy thought burns brightly in my head. I snap a picture of my hand coming out of my daughters diaper bag and send it to my husband before breaking out into a feverish flurry of activity. I turn up the radio to keep all my wiggling from waking up Molly. I can’t believe I’m about to do this… I can’t believe I’m doing this… I can’t believe I did that…-----I get home at fifteen after six, which is far later than I normally pull up. I’m super not thrilled about it either! Traffic was a bitch even after I FINALLY got past the wreck. I’m not sure how my half day of working from home turned into eight full hours of work, or how easing back into fulltime turned into such a stressful day. The lousy drive home from picking up Molly was the icing on my crap cake. I am very anxious to get my daughter in the house and try to find a way to process this situation. I need a fix of my man! I need to cuddle up to him and watch some TV, and maybe drink a glass of wine. I stand up stretching my back and lean against my car. I take a breath then reach in and grab all our stuff. Lastly, I shoulder our diaper bag popping open Molly’s door. I wake her up with sweet words. Molly takes my hand grabbing my fingers tightly and we make our way to the house. I have an unbalanced load for sure, and it's leaning heavily to my diaper bag side. Waddling around didn’t make it anything graceful let me tell you!Thank God she's walking now. I'd be done in if I had to carry her too. I wouldn’t have had the strength. My little Doodlebug is too big for me to haul her around on my hip anymore. I think sadly.She toddles beside me into the house. She doesn’t quite wake up either. She sways on her feet still groggy shambling like a zombie. I smile entering my house. It is simply thrilling to be home, it smells like safety and relaxation. Today, it seems like a major accomplishment just to get here. It had seemed impossible only thirty minutes ago. My little angel and I had been stuck for more than an hour behind that overturned tractor trailer less than ten miles from our house! I drop everything on the couch leaving Molly just inside our front door. She sways on her feet trying to wake up, but with little success. My attitude went from relief to anger in a heartbeat wanting to get out of my work clothes and Allen nowhere to be found.“Allen.” I bellow stress lining my voice. Seriously, he should be here! He knew I'd be coming in in a hurry.“Hey, Rob. Glad my girls…” He inhaled sharply seeing my face. “I take it you’re both wet?”, he chuckles.The balls on this man!“Funny aren't ya!” I growl. “Just take her will you. I'd like to get cleaned up.” I shoot him my best grouchy face, and let me tell you it can melt the paint off the walls! “Are you still wearing it? I mean did it fit?” My devoted husband stutters with an odd air about him. It’s almost seems like he is excited and it’s overriding his sense of self-preservation. I blushed instantly losing my bluster, “Ya to both. I mean I need to go freshen up, and I'm sure Molly would like a fresh diaper.”“Show me.” He insists not moving an inch after taking Molly’s sleepy little hand.“What! No. It’s bad enough I'm wearing it and its freaking wet! I'm not going to be showing this thing off. I’m supposed to be sexy to you, not some kind of screw-up.” I gasp.“I'm going to be honest here. Those do nothing for me on Molly, but I've been messed up thinking about it since you texted me that picture of her diaper. I wasn’t sure if you’d use it. I can't believe it fit.” Allen confesses.“I couldn't either. I mean it's a stretch, but our Doodlebug isn't very little. In fact, I probably shouldn’t really carry her around anymore. She doesn’t need to see this.” I ramble not so stealthily to divert his attention. I say anything trying to distract him with my moment of nostalgia from earlier.I’m super embarrassed about my situation, but at only twenty-four, I am still very interested in keeping my husband turned on. Getting him excited gets me that way too. Most of the time it would be a win-win situation, but this isn’t one of those times.But, the look on Allen’s face gives me pause. My excuse to be out of this thing was that it wouldn’t be attractive, but is it. Is he turned on?I think about it and decide I am pretty comfortable in one of Molly’s diapers, even though it was a little soggy and was pulling tightly at my hips. He clearly wants to see it. If it turns him on... Wearing it doesn’t cost me anything but some embarrassment.“Show me, babe.” Allen interrupts my thoughts prompting me a second time.“Pick her up first.” I instruct and he complies.Almost on auto-pilot, I kick off my heels and slide out of my slacks. I drop my boy-short style panties which leaves me in my blouse and Molly’s size five Luvs diaper. It’s a startling contrast, half a business outfit and half a toddler's. I try to pull together some sexy thoughts so I can model the diaper for him. I end up laughing instead. Allen laughs too. His laughing caught our little Doodlebug’s attention causing her to wake up from her shoulder nap. She looks around for a moment to see what all the laughter is about. “Mommy, it's ok. That's what diapers are for. You'll make it next time.” She tells me full of love and support. ----- The Diapered Story of Robin Smith and Her Unconventional Solutions. 2. Molly parrots the phrase she'd heard so many times in the last couple years. My poor little Doodlebug continues to have some setbacks with her potty training. She’s heard that line a lot. My tall three year old daughter takes after her daddy. We are betting Molly will end up over six feet tall. I’m worried I'll wake up any day now and she’ll be taller than me. I’ll go to get her out of bed and she’ll stand up in some cute little girl night gown and I’ll have to look up to look her in the eyes. The doctors tell us that she’ll grow out of the bladder problems eventually. They said her bladder isn’t keeping up with the rest of this growth spurt. Things will even out in a year or so. “Thanks Doodlebug. I can't believe how comfortable this thing is Allen.” I say feeling the outside of the soggy diaper. “Do I need to give you two a minute.” He teases me. He might, I thought. Damn, I can’t believe I thought that. This is super comfy though. A bit tight, but all warm and soft feeling inside and out. Watching me play around with the diaper clearly gets my husband wound up. Suddenly, I find myself excited too. The diaper is still comfortable to me, but I felt... naughty!?! Standing there in a wet diaper, in my living room, in front of my horney husband, and lovely little daughter. I send Allen off to change Molly while I head to change myself and get cleaned up. I slowly make my way to our master bathroom and start the shower. Shutting the bedroom door, I look the diaper over checking the fit for the first time. The length is ok. The diaper comes up over my ass and covers my lady bits, but the sides are struggling to stay latched without my panties holding them together. Still, it fit! I can’t believe it. I rub the wet front panel and clinically study the garment. I've changed countless diapers on my Doodlebug, but this one is different. I focus in on the diaper so completely that my mind stills. That almost never happens! I bet the size up would fit pretty good. Wonder what my options are? Maybe there’s adult or teen diapers out there I could get. It seemed to hold up most of that wetting. I’ll need to start shaving again. Allen will love that. I think I’ll like that feeling too. Smooth skin next to delicate cotton. I shiver and it dawns on me that I haven’t finished peeing. I sit down on the toilet with the diaper still on. I decide to let it have its shot at holding a full wetting. I release into the diaper and smile at the hissing sounds. Well, that’s not subtle at all. I sit there on the toilet grinning like a fool. I have a short internal debate before letting it all go and just going for it. I wet the diaper with the rest of that initial payload that I had been holding back since the wreck. Surprisingly, it holds ok till the very last when I heard the tinkle of my water hitting the toilet water. I sit for a bit to let the diaper catch up with my flood. Then, I stand feeling a little bit of my urine still sloshing around inside waiting to be absorbed. I know from years of changing Molly that there is a big difference in a small wetting and a full one. She’s getting big enough that she can flood her size fives if I didn't keep an eye on her. Those fives should fit her a while longer if I can squeeze my Momma-ass into them! Even the sixes aren’t going to fit me like they fit Molly, but they'd probably fit about like my bikini panties. They would cover my front and rear leaving some coverage over my hips. I stand and poke at the diaper turning little circles in front my full length mirror. I take off my top and bra getting one last look at myself in the mirror before jumping in the shower. It would have leaked more if I'd been sitting on it when I wet it. I’m thankful I only trickled a little in the car. I rub the soaked diaper enjoying the change in texture for a moment. I’m not sure how wearing that diaper changed from necessity to fulfilling some dream of Allen’s, or how it turned from dressing up for him to sort of maybe-kind-of-liking-it for myself, but it did. Allen’s mood must be contiguous. My intentions change from feeling the diaper out of curiosity to pleasure, and I don’t hold back. I shake my head smiling at my reflection in my vanity looking like a guilty child with her hand in her pants. Oddly, even with the diaper wet, it was still comfortable to me. Eventually, I decide I look sort of good in it too. With no small amount of regret, I take off the diaper and toss it into our bathroom trashcan. Still smiling and full of impulsiveness, I get in the shower and wash my hair. My mind is in a million places diner, bills, chores, work, Allen, Molly, and strangely that diaper. My thoughts drift from one train of thought to another, though never fully exploring any to the point of making any decisions. I find myself soaping down my pantie area and reaching for my razor. I shave myself smooth trying to remember why I had stopped, laziness I suppose. I have been tidy recently, but I haven’t been bare since before Molly was born. I know Allen will be thrilled. It feels new and fun and playful to be smooth again. I dry off and grab my favorite fleece nightgown. My mind is still buzzing with dozens of unfinished thoughts clouding my ability to concentrate. My gown is red with little white bears all over it. Allen bought it for me for Christmas a few years back. It reminds me of the Christmas Coke commercials. I tug some boy short style panties, my favorite kind, up my legs and head toward our kitchen. My mind is floating as I move around on auto-pilot. Unfortunately, it’s a common thing for me to be wandering around with my mind adrift. Allen and Molly are still in the guest bathroom giving her potty a whirl. I smile and wave at her behind Allen’s back. She smiles and waves back at me. Who knew her diapers would be that comfortable? I didn’t even feel gross after peeing in it! If she’s having bladder problems and the diapers are that comfortable for her too, it’s little wonder we are having trouble potty training her. I muse. Then, I pad barefoot toward the kitchen, but as I pass Molly’s room I’m struck by a brand new desire. My panties suddenly feel too thin. They aren’t making any noise. There is no sense of air pockets moving around as I move. I thoughtlessly draw closer to my daughter's changing table. I want another diaper. They are naughty and fun and comfortable and… I start justify my actions internally. Wait. I don’t have to have a reason! I’m a damn adult. If I want to wear a diaper around my own home, then I can damn well do it! Before I can second guess anything, I find myself sporting a brand new dry Luvs diaper tucked away safely under my boy short panties. I smile like an idiot on my way to the kitchen. I feel like I’m in some sort of trance, like I’m not totally in control of myself. I can’t reason why, but these diapers are making me happy. I damn near skip the rest of the way toward my next objective. In the kitchen, I finally snap out of my haze and find myself able to focus. I mean really focus on preparing dinner. It’s totally crazy. I simultaneously preheat the oven, start some knock off DiGiorno pizzas, and put out drinks for my little family while setting the table. I know I am enjoying my naughty secret, but I'll bet Allen will enjoy it more. I grow more excited by the minute thinking about teasing him until Doodlebug goes to bed. I can hear them leave the bathroom and head to Molly’s room to change for dinner. You’re not the only one sister! I think. They'll be here any minute and my private time with my growing obsession will end. I am very comfortable standing there in my diaper and nightgown. I sort of feel cheated that it won’t stay on without the panties though. It is fine up and moving around, but as soon as I sit the tabs will pop off. I need my own diapers, ones that fit me better. I decide. I'd no sooner come to that conclusion than my husband and daughter come into the kitchen. They are both smiling at me. I show them a warm loving smile in return. I genuinely love my little family. I guess we are pretending that I didn’t just pee myself in the car earlier. K? I shrug turning back to the work of preparing the meal. Allen helps me set the table, while Molly shuffles back and forth carrying anything we let her carry. We aren’t perfect, but we are happy. Suddenly, I realize that I could hear my Doodlebug toddling back and forth in her crisp new diaper. I hadn't even thought to listen to see if I was crinkling too! As turned on as Allen had been, I am fairly confident I’m not scuttling around as loudly as my daughter is. If I was, he'd have been asking to see it again. I’m almost certain of it. ----- The Diapered Story of Robin Smith and Her Unconventional Solutions. 3. I try to put the diaper out of my mind and just continue on with my day. I try, but I can’t quite do it. I decide to blame Allen. Him being in the room with me changes how I feel about the diaper. I feel like I could zone out and forget about it if he wasn’t in here. He is though, so I keep focusing on my diaper creating fun random moments where I feel what I am wearing. Those moments cause goofy smiles. These smiles aren’t timed with the conversation at all. They are timed with the bulk between my legs and the tugs at my hips. I probably look crazy puttering around the kitchen smiling at random unexplainable moments. Fortunately, Allen is focused on Molly and I don’t have to explain myself. Allen whistles something peppy and Molly gets up to dance around. She flitters around my kitchen like a little diapered fairy princess. I decide my happiness must be contagious, that or it’s the diapers! It’s all sort of surreal. Two of the three of us are diapered, but only I know this secret. “Daddy da big twuck laid down.” My three year old told her father sitting down. “That's what mommy said.” Allen. “I felt so bad about it honey. We were close enough to see what happened. It looked awful.” Me. “I know babe. I'm sorry you had to see that.” Allen said patting my hand. “I falled asleep daddy.” Molly. “You fell asleep.” Allen corrected. “She didn't make it long. She left me all alone stuck in traffic and bored to tears. If it wasn't for AC and candy crush, I'd have gone crazy.” Me. “And what about the potty situation?” Allen asked with a smile. Bastard, I project at him mentally. “I didn't make it daddy. I went potty in my sleeps.” Molly. “That's what your diaper is for princes. You'll make it next time. And you went potty in your sleep.” Allen told our daughter with comforting confidence. “We all need some help sometimes baby.” I tell Molly patting her shoulder. *ding* “That's me guys. Let me get our pizzas in.” I tell them standing. I get up doing my best to move normally, but it proves harder than I expect. The small bulk of my toddler's diaper between my thighs alters my gait a bit. I probably look just a tiny bit uncomfortable in the ass area while walking, but in my mind I look like a bow-legged cowboy. Gonna have to remember to practice with that a bit. I think forcing myself to walk normally. A few strides and I’m standing at the oven. My waist is hidden from my family. I put the two pizzas directly on the rack. Mhhhm crispy pizza… As I bend down, my diaper pulls tight and my nightgown rides up my thighs. The diaper is peeking out of the waist band of my panties, but my gown doesn’t ride anywhere near that high for it to be seen. If my husband could see me from the table, he’d likely see the diaper behind the tight thin material of my panties poking out from under my gown. I know he’d be looking if he could! Too bad for Allen. I think and wiggle my ass in the air like a happy puppy. Then for the first time I hear myself crinkle. I break out in a huge smile and can’t hold back the happy giggle. “What's going on in there?” Allen calls from our tiny dining area sounding suspicious. “Nothing.” I call back still laughing. “Sounds like we're missing out on some fun in there.” Allen. “Nah, everything is great. I'm just glad to be home with my family.” Me. I go with a partial truth since I don’t want to talk about the diaper in front of my Doodlebug. I don’t want to admit it, but I want to keep it a secret for myself too, at least for a while. I feel like me wearing a diaper on purpose would be confusing for Molly at this critical potty time. I fail to consider that I have already been caught in one, and that to her perception of things probably wouldn’t be any different. I walk back in the dining area swaying my hips trying to look seductive as possible in a fleece mid-thigh nightgown. Allen’s smile is full of promises for adult fun time with excitement dancing in his eyes. That promise of intimacy lights a fire in my already warm diaper. Shaving had been a terrific idea, and it’s adding to the excitement of my situation. I can feel my entire diaper. It’s feels like taking a Band-Aid off a finger after several days and feeling things directly against your skin again, only in reverse. All that cottony goodness feels delicious. I saunter over to Allen bending to get a big girl kiss from my husband. I can hear myself crinkling and it just ups my thrill level. Too bad I can’t just send Molly to her room. We could get naked in the kitchen if she weren't in here with us. Yeah, I’m that freaking horney now. After I confirm for Allen that naked things are coming with my lips, I sit back down. I take a deep breath to ask Allen about his day and try to focus on something besides my rampant teenage-level hormones when Molly tugs on my sleeve pointing at the coloring books on the table. We keep a twenty-four pack of colored pencils and a stack of coloring books on the kitchen table for just such occasions. Molly talks, but she's not much for conversation, and those colored pencils have saved more than one meal in the last few years. “Hey Doodlebug, let's color Daddy a picture.” Me. “May I have da street one Mommy.” Molly. “Good manners princes, it’s THE street one. Sesame Street.” Allen. “I'll take the Spider-Man one.” Me. Molly just sort of ignores her dad’s verbal guidance reaching for the requested book. We color a few pages while waiting on the pizza to cook. I take my time and color my picture thoroughly. It’s a nice job, if I do say so myself! Coloring has always been therapeutic for. I really relax simply sitting there in my diaper coloring Spider-Man pages with my daughter. “Rob, babe, don't chew on your hair.” Allen chastises me. “I, what.” I blew a raspberry spitting my blonde hair from my mouth. “Jeez, I haven't done that in years.” I stutter softly to myself. *ding* Allen puts a hand up to stop me from getting out of my chair. “You just keep coloring babe. I'll cut up the pizza. You look sort of cute sitting there.” Allen smiles at me. “Yay, Mommy cowors wid me!” Molly. “Colors.” Allen. “Colors.” Molly says concentrating. “With.” Allen. “Wiff.” Molly. Allen shrugs indicting that her last shot was close enough. “Alright, since you're both twisting my arm.” I grin happy to stay seated and finish coloring my page. I knock out the page I started while Allen gets the pizzas out of the oven and plates them. Then, I pick out another page from my super hero coloring book. I’ve always loved superheroes, but it is a causal fandom. I decide to see how black and yellow looks on our friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. Cause… why not? I unconsciously narrow my focus on my coloring. I slip away from all the fuss that usually clouds my head. Full Coverage. Stay between the lines. Even color depth. Light position. Let’s see, I’ll trace the outer edge of the yellows to a darker shade just inside the existing black lines. Yeah, I like that. Really helps the contrast with the black to yellow conversion. Molly and I are coloring so hard that we don’t even notice Allen coming back. He walks up to the table and sits the two cut pizzas down, and grabs our drinks for a refill. When he walks behind me to get to his seat, he reaches down and slides a finger between my cheek and my hair. He pulls gently and I feel my hair tugging from my mouth. Again? Huh, I didn’t even really notice. “Rob, baby, I asked you to keep your hair out of your mouth.” Allen chastises me again with a huge smile on his face. “Sorry, I truthfully didn’t even notice that I had started chewing on it again.” I apologize. “Asked me…” I mumble loud enough to be heard on purpose clearly displaying my displeasure. “Sorry babe. I just don’t want Molly to start that. Apparently, it’s at least a twenty-four year habit.” He tells me tucking my hair behind my ears on both sides of my head. It’s a sweet gesture. I loved him for it for giving me the tender reminder. His hand rests on my shoulder as he looks at Spidey’s new threads. I reach up and put my hand over his trying to push my love through the contact feeling a bit guilty about being pissed. “Cool costume remake. Eat up girls. Friday night is movie night. I’m feeling some like Dory since the second one is out. I haven’t seen it yet.” Allen. “I love Ellen. Such a sweetheart.” Me. “Nemo!” Molly squeals. “Speaking of nemo, when is the last time we did the filter sock? I think the charcoal is due too. Do we have any saltwater mixed up?” I ask Allen. “Yeah, I have like twenty gallons mixed up on your cart.” Allen. “Do you want tank work or dishes?” I ask Allen as I plate some pizza for Molly and me. “Uh… we’ll get the dishes. You fit down there better than I do anyway.” Allen fires away at our long running size joke. ----- The Diapered Story of Robin Smith and Her Unconventional Solutions. 4. Allen’s nearly six and a half feet tall and a bit over two hundred fifty pounds. I likes my men big! Me, I’m pretty average at five foot three. The pediatrician is positive Molly will race after her Daddy’s height, and that I’ll soon be the shortest inhabitant of the house. Frankly, it won’t be as far away as I’d like. I’ll have a giant of a man and an Amazon of a girl around here in about ten years. “Good thing I’m close to the floor! Someone has to clean up after you you great hairy beast!” I giggle. We joke and eat till about seven thirty. Molly is practically yawning at the table. Her normal bedtime is eight. I’m antsy to have her in bed safe behind her door. I’m horney and my diaper needs my husband’s attention. We Smiths are early to rise, it’s just, Allen and I are late to bed and early to rise. When Molly is asleep is the only time we get to be a couple any more. We guard that time jealously. I wonder if we could keep up the eight o’clock bedtime even after we don’t send her to bed at that time. I could make it room time not bedtime… I mean she wouldn’t have to go to bed, just be in her room. I have no idea how successful that will be, but Damn! It’s worth trying! Weekends are the exception. Molly pretty much gets to stay up till she crashes on Friday and Saturday nights. It’s clear she isn’t going to last long today. I yawn and stretch too as I stand. I feel my nightgown lift, and just for fun I bend forward a bit making sure that I’d flash my diaper at the living room. I flush realizing I’m being more than a little bit naughty. Allen and Molly get up to work on the dishes and I head toward the living room to work on our aquarium. It’s a nice custom one-hundred and ten gallon tank I’d made. Allen is pretty handy with wood work so I “let” him help here and there. We had special glass cut for the front panels, and we siliconed our own aquarium together. I had researched for months and planned the whole tank design. It was a bit of an obsession for a while there. I can get like that, you know stuck on something. We talked it through and built both the tank and stand to make water changes and maintenance as easy as possible. So easy I could do it myself, but in the end it is still my tank. They are my fish and coral, and my responsibility. Allen and Molly love watching them, but they’d both rather leave maintenance to me and just enjoy them. Getting to work, I drop the clogged filter sock into an old butter dish and put a new one in the sump. I scrub some algae loose from the sides of the sump and the display tank. The whole time I relish in the not so private pleasure that my hidden diaper is bringing me. Allen and Molly don’t make it back into the living room until after I finish up with the tank which is a clear loss for Allen. I was flashing padded ass cheeks left and right! I sit down on the loveseat with my aquarium directly to my right. Allen comes in with popcorn and Molly is carrying some cans of pop. “Allen, you’re spoiling me!” I tell him lovingly. “There’s no one I’d rather spoil more, except maybe my princess.” He says sitting the popcorn down and hugging Molly. Soda goes right through me. I wonder if he’s figured out my diapered situation? Molly has a little bean bag chair in the rough shape of a recliner. It’s pink and covered in ponies. She pulls it up beside her father's legs. I tuck my feet up under me sitting side saddle facing the TV with the tank on my right, Allen on my left, and the hidden diaper on my butt. It is heaven for me. I pull my fleece gown up a bit so I didn’t feel like I’m trapped in the shirt. Claustrophobia inside one’s own night gown sounds goofy, but wake me up tangled like a burrito and watch me flip the hell out! I purposefully flash him my pantie clad rear end. I bet if he tries hard, he could make out the outline of the diaper in the tight material. The abstract pattern on this pair probably prevents visible edges. I smirk behind my popcorn. It’s thrilling. Sitting here diapered is so innocently naughty, so inappropriately comfortable. I wiggle around excessively trying to get comfortable. I’m purposely filling the air with crinkles. I feel like a kid again excited about the unknown parts of sex with my partner. It’s fucking amazing. This could be addictive… I ponder. Allen just has no reason to look for that sound coming from my rear end despite me being this close to him. Besides, Molly is having trouble being still and clouding the air with diaper noises. One of my true pleasures in life is people watching. Watching them fight sleep is very entertaining too, especially toddlers. She’s wiggling all over the place even shaking her head trying to stay awake. He has no real reason to believe it’s me. Nothing but the sound even connects the noises with my hidden secret. Allen just laughs while watching Molly watch the movie. We’ve seen it a million times, so we mostly “people-watch” her while she watches her favorite parts. Allen gets out his tablet and starts reading some fantasy novel or another. The man reads all the time! I keep wiggling around and smirking behind my drink and popcorn. Once he draws the connection it’ll be obvious like a blinking neon sign, but apparently not until then. I decide to up my flirty game. I stretch out my legs until they are touching Allen. He looks over at me with an inquisitive look on his face. I just smile and rub his thigh with my foot. We aren’t very adventurous in the bedroom, but neither of us were board either. We were just happy, and happy is ok too. Allen reaches down and rubs my sock covered feet. It feels heavenly and I can’t help the little moans that escape my salty lips. Damn, this feels so nice. His strong hands cause me to writhe in happiness, hidden pleasure, and with a touch of pain. Turns out, my feet are knotted up muscle mess and I really needed a message. “Mommy, u k?” Molly askes. “Yeah Doodlebug, mommies feet hurt and Daddy is fixing it. It kind of hurts, but makes me feel better when he’s done. Daddy is super strong.” I explain. My little goofball just looks at us and then uprights herself. She throws her legs over mine with her head in the seat of her chair. She’s totally upside down at this point. I cringe knowing this is going to wake her up a bit. “Daddy fix my feets too.” She asks/demands. “Mommy, I’ve only got one hand. Can I fix Molly’s feet?” Allen. “Of course Daddy will, Molly will probably feel so good she’ll fall asleep.” I tease my inverted yawning daughter. I love a foot rub, the intimate contact, the message itself. It always feels great just because someone cares enough to spend the time on me. I’ll spend the time on Allen later, and he knows it making him an eager participant. After a few minutes I have Molly sit up, “Ok Doodlebug, right yourself. You're showing your panties to God and everyone.” Molly “eeped” in that little girl way and swirls around having been totally ignorant of her exposure. Allen had rubbed her feet for a few minutes and that had relaxed her enough that she’d nearly fallen asleep upside down! Turning around like that will keep her up a few minutes longer, but it couldn’t be avoided. He resumes his one handed mission to turn my feet in the well kneaded butter, it was melting me too! I take whichever foot that he isn’t working on and keep a steady rub on his thigh. I’m craving a different kind of contact, but this will have to do for now. Molly throws a last yawn around the room before simply leaning over and falling asleep. We wait a few moments after her head goes slack in her bean bag recliner, then Allen turns off the movie. I get up slowly so as not to spook her, and clear a path through the toys in her room. Allen follows me into her bedroom after having given me enough time to clean up a bit. He lays our Doodlebug Princess down for the night. We pray over her and sneak out of her room. Closing the bedroom door is always the trickiest part with the highest risk of waking her, but we manage. I head for the living room and Allen makes for the bathroom to get his shower. I’m tip toeing around my house picking up toys, bowls, and popcorn kernels. I hear my crinkling and it just ups my arousal. A bit of a wicked thought strikes me while I’m sitting in the living room by myself. I realize that diapers are going to be a part of my life from here on out, if for nothing else, randomly injecting some fun into our love life. I’d never given them a second thought beyond protecting stuff from Molly’s leaky rear end, but I have now. I commit myself to teasing Allen with my diaper covered ass. I slip my panties down freeing the diaper. I hope this thing will stay on without my panties. God, this feels like the first time I wore lingerie. How weird is that! ----- The Diapered Story of Robin Smith and Her Unconventional Solutions. 5. I sit gingerly down on the couch. My Momma-ass spreads wider than I’d like as I sit. The tape and hook/loop tabs of the child’s diaper dig into my hips as my shape changes. Nothing pops loose, nor do I hear the sound of the hook and loop pulling free. I smile to myself and wiggle my butt a bit against the couch. I'm rewarded with the lovely crinkle that accompanies the cover of my diaper. I also hear a hook or two pop loose as I played, but the tapes don’t come off. I press my hand tightly into my hips reseating the tapes. I end up sitting out there with my panties on the floor in front of the couch wearing only my nightgown and socks. After a few moments, my head clears up and another teasing thought occurs to me. I’ve never been this forward or aggressive with my own desires. My husband is a young virile man. I’ve always been the bottleneck in our love making not the catalyst. Allen is ALWAYS ready. I smile to myself standing up and picking up my panties with my toes. I toss them in my bedroom on the floor in front of the bathroom door. I bait my trap with the best cheese a married mouse has, my vagina! I know I want to wear a better fitting diaper, and I’d be petrified of my sudden crashing desire for them if Allen hadn’t been so turned on by this situation. Instead, I giggle excited like it was my first time walking back to the living room. Something about these diapers appeals to me. Uncharacteristically, I don’t find myself over analyzing things. I realize that my anxious nature seems pacified for the moment, and I try to just relax and enjoy it like Allen is always telling me too. I’m a whole hog kind of girl. Once I decide I’m into something, I do jump in the deep end with gusto. I mean, I seriously have 3D renderings of my aquarium, sump, stand, and cabinetry that we made. Hell, I had to learn Google Sketchup to build and test everything which is a whole different obsession that grew from the simple idea of keeping fish and coral. Holy Crap! If I don’t get a handle on these new impulses I’m going to end up throwing my whole damn pantie drawer away! I’d end up filling my closet drawers with diapers! The thought just causes me to smile and wiggle my ass instead of freaking out and nibbling my finger nails like I normally would have. Running around my living room carefree and diapered is another new liberating experience for me. Allen comes in the living room in his boxers and just stops to stare at me. I’m dancing around to the music in my head and smiling to the world about my unconventional underwear. He sneaks up on me and glues himself to my backside. He’s clearly still excited from seeing me earlier. I feel a flush of heat realizing that I’m standing there in my diaper in front of him, even if he doesn’t know. I can feel the evidence of that excitement even through my padding. Just when I think my level of arousal can’t elevate, he finds a way to do it again. I can’t wait for him to discover my new… packaging. Suddenly, I’m a woman possessed. A wild thing growls out from my throat as I grind backward into my husband. I bend down to the coffee table and start my sexy Pandora station. Allen and my diaper are really pushing all my buttons. I can hear the diaper crinkle with every gyration I make. I swing my hips in time with the beat of the music teasing both of us. I feel like I’m on the edge of every nerve in my body. It’s fantastic. I feel sexy. I feel seductive, and my poor husband doesn’t even know what has overcome my normally docile demeanor. I crack a smile, Diapers are making me more bold. How screwy is that!?! Allen reaches down above my panty line and starts to inch my nightgown up my legs. He continues to wad the fabric up in his hands. I swear the crinkle seem to grow louder every centimeter the gown rises. “Suddenly, I'm all hot Hon. Just take it off me, and let's go to our room.” Me. “Your wish is my command my lady.” Allen carries on playfully. I wiggle out of my less than sexy nightgown as I turn to face him. He pulls the top over my head slowly exposing my breasts, but not the diaper. I’m too close to him for him to see it yet. I pull him into a hungry kiss continuing to distract him. I grind against his leg marveling at his muscular thighs and how they feel beneath the padding on my crotch. “Take me to bed lover.” I purr into his mouth. I think he grunts but I'm not sure. I crawl up him straddling his stomach and locking my legs around his waist. We continue to make out as I cling to him like a baby monkey. We make the night rounds shutting off lights and locking up the house in fits of amorous laughter nor breaking the long kiss. “Get me a water honey.” I growl into his mouth still undetected. Allen redirects us to the kitchen, and I grab a bottle of water as we pass by killing the kitchen lights. Suddenly, one of Allen’s skillet sized hands cups my diapered ass easily encompassing an entire cheek. He presses my pelvis against his fluffy abs, and redoubles his affections on my neck. “Oh my god.” His gravelly voice pours into my ear as he finally comprehends my diapered state. “Same one?” Allen took his turn growling. “Nope. I’m crinkly, dry, and clean.” I manage in return biting at his ear. “You put on a new one for me?” He rumbles. “I think I put it on for both of us.” I admit feeling the blush on my skin from head to toe. Allen’s other hand leaves my back and directly grabs my diaper covered tushie. All the way to the bedroom, Allen runs his hands over my new underwear. He traces every edge he can get to playing with the elastic around my legs and waist. I start to slide down my husband when as enter the bedroom, but I stop when I feel his excitement pressing against my padded kitty. If ever there is a time for a human to purr it is right fucking now! I do my best giving him a human purr against his hairy chest. Allen pulls me back up and kisses my mouth like he had before we got married. If I had any doubts, any at all, that kiss removes them. He’s totally into this! We aren’t a kinky couple, but it seems we’ve have stumbled on something a bit off of center. This whole thing is driving me wild and I’m dripping with excitement. It feels like it’s driving him wild too. We have a thing! I think smiling into Allen’s aggressive kisses. Abruptly, I’m flying through the air. I laugh arching through space grunting on impact. I hit our bed a giggly umph. A fit of laughs assault me as my large husband crawls up the bed between my legs and re-tapes my diaper where it had popped loose. It’s heavenly and I make noises to let him know I approve. Allen rises up on his knees taking in my mostly naked visage. My flushed chest heaves with the rush of excitement. I’m not the teenager I was a few years ago, and seeing that look in his eye is the most flattering thing in the world. I find myself waiting patiently for something. I just don’t know what yet. “Babe, I swear you in this diaper is the hottest thing I have ever seen.” He tells me jumping up from the bed. He grabs his phone from the nightstand where he’d left it while he showered. If Allen has a weird thing, it’s how often the man showers. Meh, we all have something! He smiles at me and nods toward his phone. Allen travels for work occasionally. I have always allowed him to take pictures of me. He keeps them on a password protected website that we both have access too, but I administrate. He’s not supposed to be able to get the pictures off there, but I trust him so I don’t lose sleep over whether he can or not. They aren’t on his phone for his buddies or employees to stumble across, and I can access it and remove the stuff I don’t like or change the password at will which I do frequently. I setup the account so that if he ever leaves me he can’t reset the password. I know he could probably get around the no download settings and save them, but I trusted him enough to marry him so... I tug the sheet across my midsection to cover my tummy. I partially obscure my chest and diaper, but this is my permission to his request to take pictures. He just smiles and starts clicking away. He poses me and snaps pictures until we can’t take it anymore. I guess he’s afraid he’ll never see me this way again and wanted the record the night for his personal time or when he was away. I don’t mind, better me than someone else as his fapping material. It always makes a girl feel powerful to turn her man on. I’d go in and crop my face out of these pictures later anyway, but for right now I get even more excited thinking about him stroking himself looking at these pictures. After what seems like forever, Allen finally touches me. I’ve been in a wanton state for so long that my little diaper is literally damp, but not because of any traffic related accidents this time. I wet this one with anticipation. He puts the phone down and crawls up in the bed to lie beside me. His hands and mouth wander everywhere. I fall in love with the sound and feel of the diaper as he plays with me. The feeling inside my diaper as he runs his fingers along the outside of the leg gathers is amazing! It is the most tantalizing thing I have ever experienced. I feel like a teenager again getting felt up for the very first time. This feeling of renewed sexuality is driving me nuts. “Time to unwrap my pretty princess.” Allen says breathlessly. Then I remember that I have another surprise waiting for him. I’m totally shaven for the first time in like four years. Depending on how he reacts, I intend to stay shaved for a good long while! It feels terrific in my diaper. “Holy Shit! Just when I thought this couldn’t get any better.” Allen looks at me lustfully and amazed. His camera is instantly in his hands again, and he is clicking away at my shaven crotch resting in my opened diaper. My hips involuntarily grind against the open air in excitement. “Take me Allen.” I insist reaching my limit. He leaves the diaper under me and assaults my kitty. After bringing me off a few times orally, Allen takes me with an animal passion. The diaper lies forgotten on the floor by the side of our bed. When we finish and roll over to our backs panting and staring at the ceiling, I decide I rather enjoy the reaction my unconventional underwear sparks in my man. That thought brings a big smile to my face. ----- The Diapered Story of Robin Smith and Her Unconventional Solutions. 6. “You animal. That was perfect. I don’t think I can move.” I say sighing happily.“Yup. *pant* it was *pant* amazing. Thank you so much for wearing that for me. It must have been weird for you, but I really appreciate it. You looked so freaking sexy!”He still thinks I did that for him. He thinks that I wore the diaper because it made him horney. No wonder he took so many pictures. He thinks I'll never wear one again!“Babe, after my shower I was walking past Molly’s room and I sort of followed a pull, and put that other diaper on. You sort of caught me prancing around in it enjoying the feeling of my shaved kitty against the diaper.” I say blushing but confidently.“You mean you wore that for you and not me huh… Well, I guess I’m thankful either way, but why did you want to wear another one?” Allen.“Awe, I don’t know. They were super comfortable. It turned you on a lot. I sort of liked their feel. I felt naughty. I love turning you on.” I tick off on my fingers.“Oh yes it did.” He interrupts trailing his fingers down my side.“I don’t know. I didn’t think of wearing another one until after I finished using the first one.” I blush… again.“What do you mean baby.” Allen says wiggling his eyebrows, the old pet name implying something new between us.“I sort of wanted to see if it could hold, ya know, everything.” I mumble.“Did it?”“Almost, but those are a little small on me. When I get some that fit me better, I don’t think I’ll have that trouble.” I tell him thinking out loud with no leash on my tongue.“When you get bigger ones? This gets to happen again?” He asks in a hushed tone.“I want it to. It drove you nuts, and I was kind of already there. I can’t believe how turned on I was.” I admit.“Was that a four or five?”“We just moved her into the fives. I saw sixes at Walmart though.” I hint.“We need anything else from the store?”“List on the fridge. Whooo… Al, it’s like nine-thirty. Stay in bed.” I exhale totally exhausted.“I'll be back baby.” He chimes entirely ignoring me.“I’ll be right here then. I can’t really move yet anyway.” I yawn.He leaves the room headed for the bathroom. I, however, have trouble relaxing back into my post sex numbness. I feel restless lying there naked, but still too weak to do anything about it. I just can’t get comfortable. Something just doesn’t feel right. A smile creeps across my face. I know what I want. No, not what I want, I know what I need. I wiggle and scoot to the edge of our California king sized bed. I reach down to recover my discarded diaper, but that’s about as far as I get.I let out a breath and sort of fall asleep with my arm hanging off our bed. I don’t mean to. I had meant to put my diaper back on and curl up in the bed. Instead, I hear Allen’s phone click again. I can’t be bothered to care. He smiles at me and my eyes flitter closed again. I feel Allen put the diaper back on me. It seems like it’s easier for him get it on me than it was for me to put it on the first time. I must have stretched it out. My knees stay butterflied open and he pats my thigh standing up. I hear the door close and roll over falling back to sleep. I float halfway awake and sigh into these new unidentified emotions. I crawl my crinkly butt back up to my pillow and stretch my diminutive body out. I fall back to sleep waiting on Allen to get out back from the store. I “eep” dramatically waking up to Allen rolling my hips over and pulling me to the edge of the bed. I look into his eyes. They are still hungry for me. I grind my hips against my padding and decide that I’m getting aroused all over again. I call him to me and he takes me again. We haven’t had sex twice in one night since Molly was born. This time is amazing too, but it’s slower and more caring. My diaper doesn’t survive this go around. He rips it straight off my hips. Thankfully, it rips at the sides and doesn’t spill the inner crumbly stuff everywhere! We make slow happy easy love until we both pass out naked with Allen still inside me. Sometime around three AM, I weasel around our big bed until I my feet hit the floor and head toward my bathroom, nature is screaming at me. At that point a shower was the fastest way to go potty and clean up. I jelly leg out of the shower at half past three AM. I’m dry, freshly shaven (again), and lotioned up. I head back to the bedroom. “All clean?” Allen asks groggily.“Yup.” I smile wearing nothing but the towel on my head.Allen reaches across the bed and grabs a bag of size six Luvs diapers. There is no need to fake my smile, or try to hide how happy I am. I’m sure he'd be able to tell if I tried anyway. I just can’t figure out why I’m reacting this way.He tosses it to me and I fall even more in love with the diapers and my man. Even the dang package crinkles perfectly in my hands. I flush with happiness and anticipation, and a splash of embarrassment. He chuckles heading for another well-deserved shower.I tear open my very own stash of diapers, and can’t be happier to have them. Doodlebug isn’t going to be the only diapered princess around here anymore. I usually sleep in just my panties, but that didn't feel right with the diaper. I fish around and find one of Allen's wife-beater undershirts. I pull it over me for a top. It fits tightly across my moderate bosom. I look around a bit and notice it leaves some killer side boob!I giggle to myself and easily tug his shirt between my legs. I look a bit like I was wearing one of Molly’s snap crotch onesies. I add that to my list of things I suddenly need.Abandoning my playful thoughts, fatigue catches up with me again. I yawn a great big face splitting yawn and fall into bed. I pass out on top of the covers in wonder that he’d run off in the middle of the night for me like that. Allen turns down the air and tucks me under the covers coming after coming out of the bathroom.And that's how I wake up at about six am dying to pee again. I rub my eyes and look at my phone. No point in holding it till eight (when Molly usually wakes up on the weekends), I just decide to get up and go. I’m pretty sure I'll fall back to sleep pretty fast, I’m still pleasantly exhausted.I roll onto my back so I can scoot off my side of the bed. That movement reminds me of my diaper as I slide across the mattress. I smile and immediately and try to relax. I don’t know how much I have to go so I took about fifteen minutes to slowly fill the diaper. Hehehe yay no leaks! Slows the way to go. OMG! I should wear these just so I don’t have to get up three or four times a night!I yawn, stretch, roll to my side and pass back out. My diaper is warm and squishy as I pass out. I love it and sleep reclaims me swiftly. I wake up disoriented because my alarm hadn’t gone off. I’m flat of my back with my knees in the air. Suddenly, there is a rush of cold air against my very warm crotch. Allen is changing my diaper!He notices me looking at him, “Princess Mommy! I figured you could use some help. My shirt looks awesome on you by the way.”“Uh… That was on purpose.” I say pointing at the used diaper beside me.“Figured. On purpose for now huh?” He says patting my newly re-diapered crotch.“I wasn’t planning on wearing another one today.” I admit.“The best laid plans of mice and men oft go awry.” He teases. Allen has to work today, so I roll over happy and dry, maybe feeling a touch confused. He's gone by the time my alarm chirps at me. With Allen at work, I’m in no danger of being discovered by my three year old. I saunter into the kitchen for coffee in just his undershirt and my diaper. Lots of cream and sugar later, I sit on my side of the couch. I tug my legs up and enjoy the first few sips of my coffee. I stare at my fish tank taking my time waking up. This is my “me” time. My hand drifts to my diapered crotch and an evil grin slides across my face.Behind my smile, I ponder my new underwear and my wardrobe. If I wear something tight everyone would know. If I wear something too loose I'll have the sound to contend with.Too bad I don't have any button crotch leotards. I could wear diapers with a skirt or slacks. I could wear jeans, but I hate to do that for work…I can’t believe I’m even thinking about wearing a diaper out of the house!I sit there staring at my fish swimming around and go through my closet in my mind. I have dressed my diapered Doodlebug for the better part of four years, but never paid the slightest bit of attention to hiding her diapers. I suppose there were handicap people everywhere around me wearing them that I haven’t noticed. So, it can be done…Just have to try things till I figure it out. ----- The Diapered Story of Robin Smith and Her Unconventional Solutions. 7. By the time I finish my coffee, I have a choice of clothes firmly in mind. I’ll have to try on a few things to make sure, but I think I have Monday figured out too. That takes care of diapers with casual and work clothes, well if they work!I rinse my number one Mom cup, fill the coffee pot back up with coffee grounds and water, and absentmindedly scratch at my diaper. Stretching, I reach over and set the timer for tomorrow morning. I want to kiss that coffee pot every morning when she greets me with that rich drink of happy morning goodness!God bless you morning happiness fairy!I take my time heading to my bedroom simply enjoying the sound of my diaper crinkling in the silent house. Sitting on the edge of my bed, I comb out my hair. I follow my normal morning routine only I do it diapered.A bit later in my bathroom, I wash my face and brush my teeth still lounging in Allen's shirt. I eventually resin myself to getting on with my day. I pat my diapered butt and head over to my closet.Let’s do this!I reluctantly slip out of his shirt and into my pants suit. I want to see how my work clothes fit first. I’m not super interested in any well-meaning three year old assistance while re-designing my wardrobe around my new diapers, so I want to get this done while Molly is still drooling on her pillow. A few giggles and a stray thought or two hit me. I might actually want to wear a diaper to work. What the hell? I have an office meeting Monday morning I’d forgotten about. At least I could fight off the drowsiness knowing what was under my suit…I’m constantly in business meetings including several video conferences. They happen every day whether I’m in the office or telecommuting. My whole team knows I’m working from home these days, but I still feel compelled to maintain business appropriate dress, so my infrequent trips into work don’t change my daily routine much other than the drive in and out of town. I twist and turn checking my pantsuit from several angles in my dressing mirror. The small diaper doesn’t disrupt the drape of the material. The pants are much better at hiding my diaper than I’d have thought. My perky boobs leave tremendously flattering cleavage staring back at me in the mirror from the confines of my suit jacket. I’ll need a peach onesie to tie this all together. But I still feel sexy as hell.Happy with the suit, I switch into some jean shorts and a tank top taking time to put on a light coating of makeup. I stretch my arms over my head and see the diaper peeking out over the top of my low cut shorts. I tuck in the tank top to prevent accidentally flashing the world. The peek-a-boo my diaper was doing draws my attention again to onesies and their practicality. It’s finally time to get Molly rolling. I repeat much of my prep time on her, minus the coffee and makeup! I dress her in her onesie and a skirt, because that's what I'd rather be wearing! I make mental notes on how easy that would be to change my own diaper.“Where’s Daddy?” Molly asks me.“He had to work a bit today. He’ll be home around lunch Molls.”“K, Can I has a poptart Mommy?”“Yeah, orange juice or apple?”“Apple.” She asserts.I make some toast and slather some strawberry jam to go with a glass of orange juice. I take Molly a piece of toast and jam with her poptart. Her tummy is legendarily fickle. Molly isn’t fully woken up yet and sort of spaces out while eating her poptart. I want to grab a couple of leotards today. It’d be ungrateful to be mad at Allen, but I wish he’d have gotten the Wal-mart list last night. It seems he only got the one “vital” thing. I giggle. I need to run by PetSmart for some fish food too.I continue to plan a morning of running errands and scheduling the stops where I won’t lose Molly’s attention. She’s a great kid, but if she gets tired and board… Well, she can get pretty whiney. That’s not my favorite version of Molly to run around town with! We finish up breakfast and clean up after ourselves. Molly seems set on a real effort at “big girl” today. She brings me all the dishes and insists on helping me rinse them and put them in the dishwasher. Molly skips and sings lyrics from Frozen while we finish up.Cute little thing! These are the kinds of mornings you remember your whole life. I feel a twinge in my bladder. My coffee is making its way through me already. Coffee and soda have always had a fast track through my bladder, but it’s been worse since Molly was born.“Doodlebug, why don’t we set you up some TV? Mommy’s gotta potty.” I tell her in third person.Why do we do that? I think deciding I need to invest some pronouns on Molly’s education. [Me] Need anything not on the list? Molls and I are hitting the stores. You may beat us home. I text Allen leaving Molly with Frozen playing while I took off for the bathroom. I don’t expect a return text. Allen will be working hard to finish working so he can get home to us. I realize that I’m headed to the bathroom while wearing one. It’s a more than a little ironic and I laugh at myself. I freeze in the middle of my bedroom. I work to relax my bladder giving my body permission to relieve itself. Which, as it turns out, is super hard to do. I go a bit but can’t fully release. Making my way to Molly’s bedroom, I allow dribbles out between my stepw. I pack her diaper a bag and head back toward the living room. The diaper is quiet enough in the jean shorts that I don’t notice my own sounds. I approach the living room and pause. Should I wear one to the store? God, I can’t believe I was about to leave the house in a wet diaper. I put off the decision and yell at Molly that I have her bag packed and am heading to the bathroom. She’s snuggled up to Olaf on the couch watching her movie and yells back an “ok” at me. Standing in front of my mirror, I shuck my jean shorts and stare at myself in my tank top and diaper. I can see the number six proudly telling the world that it’s mine. The diaper is tight, but I can fit in a baby diaper! These don’t seem near as apt to pop loose either, but they don’t offer full butt cheek coverage, so that’s a minus. On an impulse, I stick my thumb in my mouth, but that immediately feels wrong. I yank it out and wipe it off almost violently. I pose sexily in front of the mirror feeling much more natural in my skin with the thumb out of my mouth. Nope, that’s not for me for sure. I adore how this feels, even soggy. But, I don’t want to sit around with my thumb in my mouth like Molls does. I’m a big girl. I don’t think about it anymore. I untape the diaper and throw it in the bathroom trash the mood being slightly spoiled with my thumb experiment. I squirt some air freshener directly into the trashcan and finish my business in the toilet. Back in my bedroom, I slide a yellow pair of boyshort panties up my legs with a winking smiley face settling on my butt.I pull my shorts back up my legs ready to start my day. Dressed like an adult, I approach my daughter in the living room. I shove my cell phone in my back pocket and grab my purse shouldering Molly’s bag. Entering the living room, I have a sudden change of heart and race off to Molls room to change out her bag. She can be a big girl too. It’s time she starts hauling her own crap around. I’m no pack mule! Plus, she needs some more dignity. I stuff a skirt, some wipes, and a couple size fives in the tiny backpack I’d bought her. It looks like a tiny pink canvas hiking backpack, suitability girly and less childlike. In fact, I bought it because it looks a lot like my business laptop bag. “Here you are Doodlebug. Mommy, er… I mean ‘I’ packed your bag so you can carry it like M… er ‘I’ carry my purse!” I tell her excitedly tripping over my new resolution to introduce some pronouns.“K Mommy! Mowwy wubs it!” I can almost hear Allen correcting her. Nope, I’m not going to do it. She’s too cute. She doesn’t ever need to grow up! Lord knows she’ll never have a sibling! I don’t suffer from the labor amnesia like some women do, and the changes in my body are to pronounced to risk it again. Molly trundles over to me and I slip the backpack over her arms cinching up the straps sizing it to her little back. Molly sways a bit as she adjusts to the weight. She looks like she’s headed out for a super cute hike. I smile widely appreciating my daughter. I’m just happy she’s mine and it makes my heart melt. I snatch her up, backpack and all, cradling her little diapered butt on my arm hugging the life out of her. I kiss her all over her face tickling her with my bangs.“Stop Mommy! It tickles!” “Never!” “Mommy!” “Muah, Muah, Muah” “Mommy! I’m gonna pee!” “Muah”“Mom….eee”“One too many tickly kisses huh? Someone’s butt is warm!”“Meeee!”“No worries Doodlebug. That’s what your diapers are for honey.” That’s what He said! I quip internally thinking of Allen.“I know.” “Let’s get you all cleaned up Molls.” I sit her down and take her hand. We head to Molly’s room for a quick dry-butt. Molly is flat of her back and I’m tugging her new diaper up between her legs when my own crotch feels the absence of a diaper. A sudden charge of jealousy rushes through me. So, I finish her change quickly and we finally make our way out of the house.Holy Shit! What the hell was that!“Molly, baby. Today we have several stops to make ok? The last one is the pet store though. You can see the kitties! Well, you can see them if you’re a good girl for Mom… eh, me.” “Kitties! Me want the Kitties!”I get her buckled in the car and we make our way to the mall. It’s the first time I have been back in my car since I wet Molly’s diaper. I certainly feel its absence the jealousy lingering despite my wishes. Molly talks about kitties all the way to the store. I wish Allen wasn’t allergic. Molly would take such good care of cat. She’d be a terrific kitty mommy!I change my mind and we make our way to Walmart first. I grab some supplies for Molly and some things for the house. In the pharmacy area, I grab some new eye liner and get Allen his sport scented spray deodorant. I have crossed everything off the house list that isn’t food except pads. I always wear a pad these days. My tiny bladder just ain’t what she used ta be, not after Molly. I have my hand on one of Playtex’s assorted boxes when I see Poise Maximum Absorbency Incontinence Pads. My hand shakily moves toward the package. I didn’t think of that. I can get away with these can’t I? I giggle to myself.I pick up the package and then reach back down to grab another. I decided that these could do for work and everyday life. Even if I am caught wearing them, I’m expected to be! I’m about to leave when my eye catches something right there next to those pads. I see the Depends Maximum Overnight Protection. My bottom lip tucks between my teeth. I bite down working it nervously. My palms turn clammy and my heart races. I feel drawn to them. “Mommy. Da mobies stopped.” Molly says jolting me from the stupor.I reach out and take my phone reloading YouTube Kids. I literally shake my head trying to free myself of the gravitational pull of that ridiculous green package. It won’t be denied though. My eyes move of their own accord. With Molly distracted, my hands move rotating my shoulders. I grasp the small size and rotate the bag. The waist size seems ok. They feel amazing. The bag itself feels like a diaper within a diaper. It has an amazing rubbery plastic feel and a marvelous sound. I feel drawn to it like a starving survivor to a juicy cooked steak. I re-arrange the cart hiding the diapers around between the boxes of pads. We grab several things and cover the contents of the cart. I haven’t found the courage to walk out with my head high and proud holding a package of diapers. Nope, not yet. We make our way to the check out and then to the car while I try not to die of embarrassment. I load up the trunk swapping out my stash of car pads in the console and my purse with my new ones. We drive to our next stop, the mall! Molly and I make our way to the family bathroom where I change her and she stands in the stall with me facing the door watching YouTube on my phone. I grab on of the incontinence pads and swap it out with the lightly damp thin panty liner that I have on. I poke at the pad and notice that it’s slightly longer than the back of my panties. I adjust the pad forward so that it won’t make any unplanned appearances while we are shopping. I tug up my shorts and freshly lined panties. God, this feels just like my diaper only with better sides. I wonder if I can use these like a diaper?I wiggle my butt and stand and sit a few times.Good, I can’t hear these any more than my Luvs. “Mommy, zat a diaper?” “No Molls. It’s a pad for grown up girls.” “K”Molly thought she had me cornered, but when I denied that the pads are diapers she believed me and lost interest quickly. Staring at the phone, Molly froze for a moment.My baby just peed I’ll bet.I reach down and check her formerly fresh diaper finding it slightly squishy.“Sorry Mommy.” Molly says sniffling. “That’s what they’re for Princess.” I tell her ruffling her hair. We make our way to the sink where we wash our hands. Then I stand her on sink to freshen up my makeup and let her play in the mirror a bit. Feeling fully “put together”, I wet my hands and tame Molly’s fuzzy thin hair. Hand in hand we make our way to Claire’s.“Mommy! Mommy! Can I has dis?”“May I have this?” I correct.“May I has dis.” She tries. “Give it here. Let me see it.” The cute knit hat has some wireframe kitty ears covered in plastic gems. The little hat is amazingly adorable. I cave because it’s cute and we really are here to distract Molly for a bit. I let her wear it around the store with the tag hanging off. Molly just holds things up meowing at me the rest of the time in Claire’s. She has me cracking up by the time we leave. “Next stop is JCPenny Molls. Mommy needs some new shirts like yours.” God! Why am I so excited to about this shit? This pad is bigger than my diaper was. I shimmy my hips playing with the humongous pad between them while walking through the mall holding Molly’s hand. ----- The Diapered Story of Robin Smith and Her Unconventional Solutions. 8. I change Molly at JCPenny before we start shopping, she had clearly wet several times.Look Molls, I get it. They are comfortable. It’s hard for you. If kids wouldn’t make fun of you, I wouldn’t even ask you to worry about using the potty baby. I’m sorry. I really do believe it’s best for you in the long run. Mommy knows it’s hard to make it when your body doesn’t cooperate. “Listen Molls. Are you listening?” “Yeah Mommy.”“Baby, you have to try and use the potty. It’s an important part of growing up to be a big girl. Do you understand?”“Mommy, you said dats what der for?” She asks me. “I know, baby. It’s… well, that is what they are for. If you have an accident, it’s ok. Maybe just tell Momm… I mean me if you have an accident. Tell me. Accidents are ok. You can’t stop those.”“I jus happens. Poof and potty in my pants.” Her arms gesticulate.“And that’s fine baby, your right. That’s what your diapers are for. Just tell me when it happens so I know, and don’t use your diapers if you can find a potty. Ok?”“OK.” Molly says defeated. “I don’t like da potty.” She mutters under her breath. Why do I feel dirty? I know it’s important for her. Gah! Being the Mom sucks sometimes!I grab a cart and pick Molls up putting her in the child’s seat. She’s engrossed in my phone while I wander the isles. I need some leotards, the snap crotch ones specifically, but the labels call them bodysuits now.Whatever, they’re onesies! I think reading a tag on a top.“Look Mommy, el-la-lants is weally stwong!” She points at the video about elephants she’s watching.“El-ah-phants” I articulate. We aren’t hurting for money, but I grew up frugal and I always will be. I browse for sales eyeballing cute tops while we make our first pass in the store. There are several designs with various necklines and some with lace around the collar. I move back through all the tops. My eyes land on my new favorite top. I fall in love immediately. It is a blue velvet bodysuit by Arizona with several lacey strings crossing over the cleavage creating a beautiful design. I drape one over the cart along with a few others, including a set of five plain white ones from the underwear section. We head off to the dressing rooms so I can try on these new onesies. The closer we get, the more excited I find myself. Raising Molly is full of Awe inspiring moments, but I’ve been through some stuff college, falling in love, getting married, buying a house, working in marketing, being a stay at home mom, and a part time mom/work from home employee. I’m sure I still have a lot of experiences left to discover in life, but everything about my diapers seems to be thrilling me in new and exciting ways. It’s a bit like re-experiencing my own life with a new filter on the movie, like re-watching black and white memories in full technicolor.Even this simple act of trying on adult clothing that functions the same as Molly’s toddler clothes is exciting me. I hurry into a stall closing and locking the door. I check the bench for lingering push pins and sit Molly down starting a game on my phone. I try on the peach onesie I got for work Monday. Ok. Cool. It fits. Let’s button this thing up. Huh, I can feel the snaps. Don’t like that. You will be wearing a diaper there’s no way you will be able to feel them then. Oh yeah!God, the cut on these are different than Molls. Sexier. Thinner in the crotch. Higher in the hips. I hope the velvet one fits better. My diaper will hang out all over in this one.I run my hands over the crotch of the shirt protected from my smooth skin by a layer of yellow smiley faced hipster panties and a thin pad. I can feel the ridges in my finger print bumping over the ribbed material of the top through the panties on my shaved crotch. OMG! That’s so erotic. Even covered in two layers of fabric and a thick pad, I feel naked to the touch. This is fucking amazing. I can’t wait to feel my diaper pressed in tightly with these. Ok, God please let this fit. I thought grabbing my favorite velvet top.I try on the top. The snaps hit a little further forward than the peach one. It’s far more comfortable than the first one I’d tired on. It comes down over my hips following my hipster panty line pretty closely. I spin in the mirror adjusting the straps on the top tying the fanciest bow I could manage leaving the string hanging low over my boobs.I love it when my favorite is the best. My girls look amazing in this. I push them together, pull them apart, and lift them high and low. Who doesn’t love a top that looks this good no matter where my boobs roam off to! This may be my favorite top in my whole closet! My God this velvet feels so good.Wonder how it’d feel without a bra? I file that thought away for later.I decide to wear the top out leaving the tags on it. I’d never reacted badly to new clothes, so I wasn’t concerned about wearing it out of the shop. The cashier smiles at me scanning the tags under my arm along with the rest of my clothes. She can tell I was in love with the top and compliments me on how it looks on me while asking my “kitty” tons of cat questions. Turns out Molly likes the taste of field mice the best… HA!I’m very much excited to get home. I look down at my watch seeing it is now about eleven twenty. We head to the car with our bags of goodies hand in hand. Molly looks so grown up. My tall little Doodlebug looks twice her age with her height and the backpack, like a grade schooler off to conquer the world. How tall will my little amazon be when she’s really eight, thirteen, twenty? “I love you Doodlebug.” I sniff.“Whaz wrong Mommy?”“Nothing Molls. I was just thinking you look like a beautiful big girl instead of my tiny baby girl.” “Yup. Imma big girl”“Gettin there huh?” I chuckle ruffling her hair. “Mommy I’m wet K?” “Did you have an accident? Let me see how bad.” “You’ll make it till we get home.” “It was a hack-sa-dent Mommy. I didn’t know till I was goin.”I need to pee too Doodlebug. Should I? Allen won’t care, even if I make a mess. Can these pads really hold up?We leave the mall and head for AquaWorlds, our local fish store. I promised Molly kitties. I’ll have to take her to PetSmart on the way home. I resign myself to two more stops instead of one. PetSmart doesn’t have the saltwater fish food that I need though. I’m always forgetting that. The aquarium care stuff is cheaper there, but I only need the saltwater shrimp for feeding the tank today.Well, honestly. The second stop at PetSmart would keep me from buying anything at AquaWorlds. Hey! If you don’t keep fish, you can’t understand how hard it is to walk out without a new fish, coral, or piece of equipment!Inside AquaWorlds, I prowl through their coral frags and make my way to the refrigerated shelves. I deny the impulse to add some new coral to my tank and just get the frozen shrimp. I pay for my purchases and we make our way toward the house stopping only for a few minutes for Molly to poke the adoptable kitties through their cages. She gabs on about the kitties all the way home. Pulling up at the house, I see Allen’s truck, he has beaten us home. Getting out, I finally stop to check my phone. I’d missed a couple texts from him. They aren’t anything important though, so I text him we are home and could use his help.Opps. I’ve been known to get pissed at him for that move.Standing up, I begin emptying my bladder into my inco-pad. I certainly don’t mean to. It’s one of the things I contend with now. This is the reason my panties are always lined. Instead of standing there concentrating on flexing all my muscles until I regain control, I boldly take a step forward around Molly’s open car door ignoring my leaking lady bits. Reaching my leg out for the next step releases a big spurt of pee. The small squirt and pinch move I usually pull in these situations isn’t working. Frankly, I didn’t want it to. I hold back enough that I don’t flood the pad, but every step and flex releases some tiny bit of urine. It actually feels really good not to have to worry about standing in my yard in wet shorts because of the pad. This is one of the little gifts Molly’s trip through my body left me, and it’s one of the reasons I don’t have labor amnesia like some women. I have constant biological reminders of the cost of motherhood. I don’t see as well and had to get glasses! On a positive note, I haven’t had the period-migraines since I had Molly, and I’d had them since puberty started a decade ago. That is sort of amazing to be honest.Pregnancy is still a miraculous thing. My doctor told me that pregnancy doesn’t cause these changes like the eye sight and migraine stuff, not medically. Then he went on to tell me dozens of stories about body adjustments that some of his patients had gone through after pregnancy, some temporary and some, like me, permanent. Peeing myself when I don’t feel like I have to go, just because I decide to change my personal elevation, that seems a bit extreme to me. It happens to me nonetheless. I feel the texture of my pad changing from fibrous to jelly between my legs. I decide to let my body evacuate whatever it feels like is necessary, but try to keep a heavy wetting out of the picture. I force myself not to fight the piddles. It’s a word I coined for myself. It’s what I call these little wetting episodes that just really fucking brighten my day. Ever hear of the walking farts? Well, I have the walking piddles. I take Molly’s hand and lead her, wearing her backpack diaper bag, into the house with the frozen food from the local fish store. I finally stop the piddling and plunk her down on the couch with my phone. Allen comes out of our bedroom at about the same time. I shake my head at the small fortune we spend on water for his showers.“Hi girls! Did you have a good time shopping?” Allen asks kissing my neck. “We did, huh Molls?” I ask looking at her over my shoulder.“Yup, Meow” “Did you get a kitten while you were out Mommy?” “I did! Isn’t she great!?!”“She’s not house broken though.” I whisper loudly giving her a hard time.“Moom eeee!” Molly whines like a teenager. “Wow, learn that move early don’t you girls?” Allen asks me.“The Sass is Strong in this one.” I nod sagely.“You dropping Star Wars puns is hot.” Allen says causing me to blush. Allen pats my butt while our kid is fully engrossed in an episode of SpongeBob on my phone. She’s safely distracted so we can run in and out of the house. He kisses my ear. I sigh happy and turn resting on his chest. Then I straighten up and smack his chest. “Is anyone wet today?” “Allen! Seriously!” I shout exasperated. “I un know.” Molly slurs together.“How bout Mommy? Was she a good girl? Did she keep her diaper dry?” “I did no such thing you turd!” I huff walking toward the door embarrassed to my core.“I had a hack-sa-dent Daddy. Mommy used da potty like a big giwl. She buied big giwl diapers.” “I bought Pads Molly. Pads.” I say forgetting the Depends I’d picked up altogether.“Oh relax honey. It’s ok. I love my girls whether they are wet or dry!” Allen teases.“Stay put Molly. Daddy and I will be right back. We’re just going to the car to get our stuff.” I say dragging Allen outside.“Don’t be mad baby.” Allen pleads sensing my mood.Sigh “I’m not mad Allen, well maybe a little. What we do in the bedroom doesn’t have anything to do with Molly’s little reality. Plus, you don’t go embarrassing me anymore.” I fix him with my don’t-push-mom look. “To be perfectly clear, that’s not a request. It’s an expectation. This is for me and you and no one else. I’m a lady regardless of my clothing choices, and I won’t be belittled!” “Robin, baby, I’m really sorry. I was just playing. I wasn’t trying to hurt your feelings. It was stupid and I’m really sorry.”I let him stew in his own remorse just to reinforce the point I’m making. I may not do a lot of off-center stuff in the bedroom, but come on Internet. I know, at least on the surface, what a submissive is. I am not one of those. I may be meek and a bit humble, but I’m no one’s floor matt. No offense to those who get off on that, but that ain’t me boy-o. I think and throw an angry eyebrow at Allen. I grab my shirts filling up my arms and head back into the house. ----- The Diapered Story of Robin Smith and Her Unconventional Solutions. 9. Dumping my clothes on the bed, I begin sorting out my new tops by color. I drop the white ones in my whites laundry basket, and the colors I decide to wash individually with a couple older towels each on tiny load settings. No sense in lettings these fade over something I already own.I make several mini-laundry piles and lug them into the laundry room. I decide to start the whites with some bleach first. The water begins filling while I add the bleach, but I discover a problem when I bend over to grab the white load. Apparently, I still need to pee quite a bit. I decide to put these pads to the test.No better room than the only one with a floor drain!I take a wide legged stance and relax my bladder, or try to. I fail. It’s not so much a factor of permission, but a matter of forcing muscles that I don’t EVER think about to open. I guess that’s the thing though. Maybe being flexed shut is the relaxed state for those bladder control muscles. If that’s the case, it’s a bit like doing a bladder pushup! I make a mental note to look that up. Interesting theory. I decide It’s really a mind over matter type thing. I envision a Sci-Fi type scene of casting my consciousness down the nerve synapsis to the bundles controlling my bladder. With the piddles always on the horizon, I have perhaps a stronger connection to my troubled bladder muscles than most people do. I envision my bladder as a hand tightly clasped holding something in.I lean forward bracing myself on the washing machine angling my body in a new way while trying to tug those mental fingers loose. I finally feel my control loosen and I begin to wet the incontinence pad. Suddenly, I’m releasing a full wetting onto the pad, but it’s like the pad doesn’t even try keep up.My hipster panties plus this type of pad don’t make a good pairing. The pad itself stays in a circular shape instead of flattening out gathering correctly. Apparently, I need some full on tighty-whitey granny panties. I don’t know if it fails because of being a crappy product, or because I wasn’t wearing correctly either way the pad definitely fails. I feel the pee trailing down my leg and “eep” shocked back into action. I shuck my tennis shoes and strip my socks off tossing them in the washing machine with the whites. I stand over the drain as my body finishes the business I started not having any options.Sadly, I strip out of my new favorite top that’s now soggy in the crotched. I rinse it in the utility sink and drop some water over the floor using a towel to clean up my mess. When Allen finds me a few moments later, I’m still standing there in my yellow smiley assed panties with a totally soggy incontinence pad soaked so badly it looks like it just phoned in the effort, I mean come on! “Hey Babe. Ooo, Boobs!” Allen says taking a good thirty seconds or so to notice anything else.“Shit.” I grumble when he eventually looks down.“Everything ok over there Princess?”“Awesome…” I threw him a you’re-a-dumbass eyebrow. He waves his hands, “Alright I give!” “Do you need any help Rob?”“I rinsed my top and threw my socks ‘n shoes in the whites.” I say pointing at the washer. “So what happened here? An accident?”“No… an experiment. A failed one.” “What didn’t work?”“Well, I got a new heavy wetting pad to see if I could sort of wear a diaper, but not really.”“Ok”“I piddled a lot when I got out of the car, you know… like I do.”“That’s what your pads are for baby. I really don’t care that you dribble.” “I know. I love you for it too.” I say meaning it while straddling the drain in the laundry room.“I thought this was the safest place to test em.” “I’d have went with the shower…”“Well, damn. I had to go and NOT think of that.” I admit a bit defeated.“Meh, no worries looks like you already cleaned it up.” “I was just going to strip and shower really fast. I’ll wash these panties with one of these loads.” “I’ll take care of that. You just flash me those gorgeous butt cheeks and scoot out of here.”“Allen, you don’t have to. I’m not some kid.”“Well, you certainly are playing at it.” He smirks.“Wipe that look off your face or I’ll kick your ass.”“Ma’am, Yes Ma’am.” He salutes.“God you’re impossible.” I say stripping. “Nah, I’m amazing. I clean up after wet girls around here all the time.”“A wet toddler maybe…”“Nope, I washed your wet stuff yesterday too.” “I… Oh… I… I was going to do that. You didn’t have to.” “Well, I don’t get off on handling your pee or anything, but your accidents don’t repulse me either. You certainly never will!”“Fine, you can be out of the dog house.” I tell him turning to him naked as the day I was born.“I’m going to shower. Did you get the rest of the stuff out of the car?” “Yep. On the counter.” “Will you run a kitchen wipe with bleach on the floor between here and the washer?” “Already planned to. I’ll put the rest of the bags on the bed.”“You can return or throw away those bags of pads. Even if I could figure it out, I’ll never trust them now.”“Done. I’ll just toss em. Not worth the gas or my time to take ‘em back. We should stick them all over something and then take a funny picture.” He jokes. “We’ll do no such thing. My totally manageable leaky issue and my new found love of thick underwear is no one’s business but ours mister!” I say getting a little heated again.“Sorry, not what I meant. Just thinking of that kid from AFV covered in pads the other day.”“Nope. Trash or take back. That’s your options. No negotiation.” “Trash it is!” I leave the laundry room running on my tip toes like a spooked deer. I’m genuinely upset that the pads didn’t work and that my new favorite top is in the laundry room in the sink. I totally stomp off to the bathroom pissed the hell off, just not at Allen, this time!I take my time cleaning myself and lotioning up my skin. When I get out of the shower I fix my hair and do a light coating of makeup. I feel the need to look my best for Allen after him seeing me in the laundry, all boobs out and wet panties. That’s not the look I want to foster! I paint my nails and toe nails too. By the time I’m done, I look like I’m ready to go dancing or for a night out doing something young and fun. Perfect, I think looking in my mirror. This is exactly the level of nice that I’m looking for! I look around in my Tee-Shirt drawer for something cute that will go with my nails. I find a purple My Little Pony shirt that I bought to match one Molly just had to have a few months ago.I feel like a cute day! I can be cute and sexy too. I love it. Ooo, I’ll put my hair up too!I tease my hair into a cute dangling updo with floppy bangs. It feels summery, light, and cute. I scratch at my chest and cup my breasts. I let them fall back to their resting position and smile at myself. It was a hard fight back to this shape after Molly, and I’m a bit proud despite a little remaining pudge. Naked below my shirt, I sit on my bed trying to decide what my bottom half should look like for the rest of the day. I know I want to wear a diaper. So there’s that. I guess I need to decide what I can wear with this top that will help me hide my diaper. I pilfer through my closet and the bottom drawer in my dresser. I sit out a few pieces, but struggle making up my mind. I rest my hand on my hip cocking it out to the side while I stare at my bed. My door pops open startling me. “Ahhh!” “Shhh… It’s just me baby.” “Damn honey. Scared the shit out of me.” I say resting a hand over my throbbing heart.“Didn’t mean to.” “I’m ok now.” I smile at him half naked. “You look amazing.” He smiles at me lecherously. I turn fully to him displaying my fuzz free goodies. Allen smiles the sight. I sashay over to him wiggling my hips as I walk. He stands there mesmerized by my movements. “Hey babe. I can’t decide what to wear over my diaper.” I tease.“I’m ok with nothing!” He gets a well-deserved really eye for that, but knowing him he probably thought it was worth it. “Allen…” “Bah fine. You know I wasn’t serious. I just hate to cover you up. I could stare at you all day.” “Well, we decided to have a child so… no day long ass staring for you.”“I like the new packaging anyway. Speaking of. May I?”“Please.” I giggle and move the baggy overalls I set out further up the bed. Allen takes my ankles and tugs me closer to the edge of the bed. I close my eyes to focus on the feelings. This isn’t the first time my husband has diapered me, today even, but this is the first time I am awake enough to focus on it, to enjoy it. He spreads my legs at the knees leaving then laying open like butterfly wings. My shaven kitty stares up at Allen, and I feel the air caressing my delicate places. His hands trace up my ankles gliding up the insides of my legs. They spread outward at my hips reaching under me to cup my ass tracing the back of my legs pulling them together. I moisten enjoying the luxurious feeling of Allen’s rough hands on my skin. He raises me off the bed far enough to slide a diaper under me. Immediately, I feel that this diaper is bigger than I expected. I resist the urge to open my eyes enjoying the sensory deprivation. May have to add a blindfold to the naughty drawer! ----- The Diapered Story of Robin Smith and Her Unconventional Solutions. 10. Allen fits up my diaper tugging it around to center it. This one’s incredibly crinkly. I focus my ears listening to every noise it produces. Finally, he tugs on my diaper pulling it down to the right level on my butt. I feel the diaper gathers tugging at the creases between my ass and legs as Allen pulls the diaper up. He lays the front of the diaper over my crotch and I know it’s not one of my Luvs. Struggling to keep my eyes closed, Allen cups my crotch to see where the front waist will lay. His hand shifts to my waist holding the diaper in the center. My man’s a diapering professional… mhmmmm He tucks the left front side in around my hip and tugs the back over the front panel. Allen abandons his hold on the middle of my waist, and tugs the front side for a tighter fit. He repeats the process on the other side completing the fitting. I wiggle my ass in this larger diaper enjoying the feeling of a properly sized one. It tugs and pulls in the directions of the tapes and across my waist. It feels amazingly tight and secure. I pinch my legs together bunching the diaper up between them. It crinkles seductively as I move my legs like a cricket. Allen parts my legs and lies lightly on top of me. He kisses my heart up into my throat. I drape my arms around his neck and peck his cheek. “Babe, Molly.” I say pushing him up smacking at his chest and standing up. “What am I wearing?” I ask looking down at my fully diapered ass. “I don’t know, I didn’t look. They were in the bag with your trash pads.” “Oh, I forgot I bought those. I was too pissed at the pads. I thought you’d bought me something.”“Bawahahaha!” Allen laughs. “What’s so funny?”“You said pissed at your pads that you just peed in.” “Oh pissed, I didn’t mean that as a joke. I get it.” “Oh crap… still funny though.” “Hey before you go… what bottoms?”“Uh…” He stalls looking his options over. “Oh! The overalls for sure. No doubt.” Allen takes off for the living room to check on our little Phone Zombie. I stand up and run to the full length mirror in the closet. I spin, turn, jump, bend, and gaze at myself in the mirror. I feel awesome. I feel sexy and desirable, and I feel fucking silly. I shrug off the silly and just go with happy. I tug the overalls up and clip the bibs in place. I check myself in the mirror again. I haven’t purposefully dressed cute in a good long while. I have to actually work at looking my age. An older looking girl stares back at me in the mirror. She’s a cute girl, maybe in her late. She sure doesn’t look like a mid-twenties mother! I giggle behind my hand and clap. I jump a few times feeling my bouncy bangs dance around my face. I laugh and bend over touching my toes. I can hear the diaper crinkling away loudly. It’s not as prolific as it was before I put on the overalls, but I can hear it more than I’m comfortable with. Oh, I love how this feels. God, my hips are getting a clammy already though. Gonna have to fix that. I head toward the door pondering the clammy heat around my waist and notice the noise the diaper is making is beyond my tolerance. Yeah, nope… not running around crinkling this much. Hmmm… What to do? I think tapping my chin. I go back to the laundry room inspired. I pull one of my new tops off of a pile of laundry. Pulling a baby blue onesie over my head thrills me. The cut of the onesie leaves it poking out around the collar of my shirt with the overalls, in turn, covering up the decal on pony shirt. Ultimately, I decide to peel off the pony shirt throwing in the load I’d pulled the blue onesie from after fastening up my overalls. I make my way back toward my bedroom having spent a totally conspicuous amount of time by myself at this point. I feel like I need to hurry and get out there with my family but walking by Molly’s room, I catch a whiff of baby powder and ammonia. The smell of pee is there, but faint. The biggest smell is the baby powder. I tip-toe in there and grab one of her many containers of baby powder. Back in my room, I slide my overalls down my ankles and unbutton my snap crotch pulling it up under my chin. I poof out some powder into my hand lightly coating powder around my own hips. Oh, now that’s better. Seems to be breathing fine where the padding is heavy… weird! Better run my hand around my belly too. Nice! This is… OMG! I can’t believe how good it feels to wear a diaper that really fits me! Hell, this may even be a bit too big. Better poof my pussy too! I button my blue onesie wishing I hadn’t gotten the whites load going first. I could have worn the pony shirt. I don’t like the blue with my purple nails, but the Pony top worked great with them. I pull up my overalls and button the bib leaving my feet bare. Girl’s gotta show off dem toes! I laugh at myself wiggling them in the carpet. I really stare at myself in my mirror getting ready to leave my room. I see a toned seventeen year old version of myself staring back. The baggy overalls and the updo really bring down my age. My loud purple eyeshadow also shaves off another year or two. I love the dangling brown curls framing my face. My dark eyes look a little moody and mysterious with the darker eyeshadow. I look like an Emo teenager trying to dress like a little girl… I giggle at my image. It’s ironic that in reality, I’m a twenty-four year old mother who looks like a teenage lady trying to dress like a twelve year old girl. Even given the visual Mobius strip I’m creating, I feel as sexy as hell. It is very odd to look in the mirror at the image I cut, and yet feel as sexy as a nearly naked cat girl on Halloween! I trust-fall onto my bed and roll around a little bit. The noise from the Depends is considerably lessoned with my onesie. With the TV on, or any background noise at all, the crinkle will totally fade away. I should probably feel guilty, but everyone will just assume its Molly, even if they hear something. Well, except at work…hahaha! I stood pausing just a moment at the outrageous thought. I have a hard time imagining wearing a diaper of any kind at work, and yet, an equally hard time going that long without one. I can’t tell if I feel out of control, or that I’ve already accepted this as something I want. It’s a pleasant coincidence that Allen seems to be getting off on it. At least we can be strange together! “What do you guys want for lunch?” I ask the living room where Molly is playing ABC Mouse while Allen reads away on his Galaxy tablet. At least THAT has some educational value. I think watching her tap away at her alphabet. Occasionally, I feel guilty about her tech time. All the “Pros” at raising kids tell you exactly what’s appropriate for everyone’s kids and circumstances. I try to make sure she plays her educational games as much as watching Kids YouTube or one of her games. We color, play, read, and talk in a good balance for us! Molly wakes me up from my soapbox daydream. “Pitha!” Molly screams looking quickly back at her tablet. “We had pizza last night. Nope.” “I’m not super hungry Robin.” Allen admits.“Yeah me either, but it’s like one. I’m not cooking till six-ish.”“How about a sandwich?” He asks.“Yeah. That’ll work. Molls, you want PB&J?”“Pleassse.” Molly begs.“You got it kiddo. Allen, I’m gonna do a small turkey and mayo. Can I get you something?”“Really? Thought I’d be fixing my own…” He chuckles.“You’re not in that much trouble. Besides, I’m feeling pretty awesome right now.”“Good. You’re looking pretty awesome too. Just don’t tell your older sister you’re hanging out with us. My wife gets jealous.”“God, Allen.” I bark in laughter. “Your dad-jokes are getting stronger.” I mumble. I turn to start setting out the sandwich stuff and Allen suddenly grabs me in a hug from behind. His hands invade my overalls trailing down over my not-quite-toned stomach. I feel the bump as his hand hits the onesie covered front of my diaper. It makes him shudder. “I bet you look super cute without the overalls on.” He purrs.“You know I do, but the cut of this onesie doesn’t fit the diaper to well. It’s hanging out on the sides. I look like a toddler wearing her mom’s panties, but I freaking love the feeling, all mushed up. Thanks for changing me earlier. Sorry I got snippy.”“Sorry I was an ass.” We laugh at each other’s apology.“I don’t know where this is going Rob, but I fucking love where it is right now. Make sure you let me know what’s not OK as you figure it out. I don’t like pissing you off, or when you’re mad at me.” “I will. I tried sucking my thumb.” I dangle.“And, did Princess Mommy like that?” “No and I don’t think I like that tone in your voice either. I’m not our daughter or some kid here.” I say politely.“Shit sorry.” Allen moves to stand up and withdraw his hand.“No stay. I’m not mad. You told me to tell you. I was just telling you.” I grind my pelvis against his hand.“Will you wet this one?”“Of course. That’s how I got here. I’m dying to know if it’ll hold.” I giggle and moan at the same time.“Let me know when it happens in case I have to go distract Molly. No sense in her seeing that.”“Yeah. That’s the idea behind these onesies too. They are diaper mufflers!” I admit. He stands up kisses the top of my head telling me I look cute before leaving the room. Allen smacks my padded rear end as he goes. I smile enjoying the attention. It’s so normal and yet abnormal with the diapers. Everything, and I mean everything, feels like a new sexy secret. Every move I make, every step I take, he’s watching me. Hahahaah, I crack myself up! “Hey let’s eat in here guys!” I yell to the living room. We pile up at the table not saying much. I log Molly out of her educational tool and put on Pandora putting it on the bar. Molly and I eat and color some more while Allen reads and eats his sandwich. We have a super terrific peaceful family time singing and eating. “Mommy, I wanna bow bubbles.”“Sounds good to me. How bout you Daddy?”“Good idea girls. Molly, I want to BLOW bubbles.” ----- The Diapered Story of Robin Smith and Her Unconventional Solutions. 11. We head outside as a family. It’s bubble time! Molly has like a million little bubble blowing toys. She has a hard time settling on one toy at a time. I’m almost certain she’s got A.D.D. watching her hover over all the options. She attacks the large Tupperware with her bubble stuff taking out a bubble hoop. It’s a bit chilly outside today, barely seventy-five degrees, and I’m just a little too cool in the shade of our covered porch. I move sitting on the edge of the porch by Molly. The sun feels amazing. Allen joins us after a bit with some drinks taking his seat at the picnic table in the shade of the porch. Guess what he does… got it in one! He pulls out his tablet and starts reading.“Your wizards and werewolves keeping you company over there?” “I’m reading a Star Wars book…” He says raising an eyebrow. “Fine. Bubbles and girls are way more fun… Are your wookies and porgs keeping you company?” “Good company thanks.” He sasses me back. “and there’s no porgs in this book! God I hope those aren’t another Ewok Species.”“I loved the Ewoks! They are cuddly and deadly!” “Blasphemy! How could a feral teddy bear kill a futuristic soldier in body armor!” He scoffs.“I can’t wait to get a stuffed porg for the bed and a six inch one to put with my Jar Jar! Oh! Molly will need one too.” I giggle losing my serious tone.“What’s funny Mommy?” “Daddy baby. Daddy is funny!” We both laugh at Allen, each for our own reasons. “We need to start screening those with her ya know. I was thinking of taking her in December.” Allen adds hopefully.“Yeah, The Last Force is coming out then right?” I tease.“The Last Jedi.”“Whatever…” God, it’s easy to rile him up.***Insert 5 min very motivated tirade on how awesome Star Wars is here***(Not sure what he said. I was smiling too hard to hear him!)“Ok babe, Ok! It’ll be fun to watch Molly see the porgs. God I hope Chewy doesn’t eat one!”“GRAH!” He pretends to rage.I do everything I can to rile him up about his fiction. I can’t help it! He just takes it so seriously. I have picked up a thing or two over the years, but mostly just what his hot button topics are. I own a Jar Jar Binks six inch toy just to annoy Allen.“Eep!” I squeal seeing him rock forward to get up. I sprint out into the yard running from my fanatic of a husband. The guy’s as big as a wookie! You’d run too if he thundered across the deck after you! Molly gets up chasing after Allen who’s chasing after me. Molls laughs so hard she can barely run. I can feel my diaper warming up around my hips. I’m thankful for the powder I used earlier. Allen is a typical ex-football guy. He has large grass eating strides, but not classically quick or maneuverable. I am. I’m quick and maneuverable as hell!We race around the front yard laughing, giggling, and with Allen thundering behind me pretending to be mad. Our neighbors undoubtedly think we are nuts, funny, but nuts for sure! That fun comes to a jarring halt when I step in a mole-run or something. The grass beneath my foot collapses under me. I twist my ankle in terrible unintended and hit the ground hard. Well, I hit hard, but not as hard as it would have, cause you know… diaper! I hear a tremendous pop and then pain radiates through me. It hurts, but the whole thing is so fucking funny that I can’t quit laughing even though tears streaming down my cheeks. I roll over and lay on the grass putting my injured leg on the knee of the good leg letting it dangle.“God Rob, are you ok baby?”“Nope, hurts.” I sniffle.“Mommy gonna go to da hospital?” “I hope not Princess. Let me have a look baby.” “Just… don’t move it, or touch it, or look at it. Damn!”Just under fifty minutes later, we pull in at the hospital’s emergency room. There’s an ace bandaged wrapped around my barefoot and the bottom of my overall pant leg. Allen parks the car under the awning and picks me up sitting me and Molly down in the waiting room. “Al, prop it up for me honey.” “K, then I’ll move the car.” “I’m so sorry, I love you.” I tell him.“Oh Robin, I love you so much. This isn’t your fault, don’t apologize. Fucking feel like Bill Murry in Caddyshack.” “But our weekend. God my foot is throbbing. I hate moles.” I give up trying to be the adult here. I sit Molly in my lap as she hugs me tightly. I sniffle into her hair amazed at the pain in my leg. Allen shuffles uncertain of what he should do. He needs to move the car… and register me… and comfort me. He’s uncomfortable with the whole situation and having a hard time deciding what to do first. “Baby… I… Shit, I’ll be right back.” He says finally committing to parking the car first.“Ummm… Daaddyy!” Molly tuts.All I could really do is look at him and let the tears trickle down my face. Shooting wicked arcs of pain radiate from my ankle down into my big toe. I can still wiggle my foot so Allen didn’t think my leg was broken, but there is something structurally wrong with my toe. It doesn’t look like it’s laying the way it should anymore. He knows I’m a pretty tough chick. I can handle pain, and my failure to handle this pain is freaking him out.Allen sprints out of the room, the doors slowing him down while he waits on them to open. I lean my head back wiping my eyes while rubbing Molly’s back. I don’t mean to scare her, but it’s impossible to push all this pain aside. “Mommy is ok?” She asks. “No not yet, but that’s why we are here baby. They’ll fix me up.” “You gonna gets crutches?” “Probably, but not right away. They will tell me to stay off my ouchies for a while.” “Girls, I’m back. Molly I have to go tell them Mommy’s here.” Allen rushes over to the ER Nurse’s intake window. He’s up there for a while filling out paperwork and describing my injuries. My phone chirps a Jawa sound after a bit of writing on his part.[Allen] Hey, I need your social and date of birth.[Me] 555-55-5555, *raised eye emoji*[Allen] nvmd on your date of birth… I figured it out.[Me] good![Allen] Almost done baby. We’ll get in pretty fast she says. [Me] *crybaby face emoji*“Allen, unwrap this. It’s too tight. Fold up my pants so I don’t have to take them off.” I make eye contact with him. Allen suddenly remembers my unconventional underwear. “Alright, if it hurts tell me.” “Should I just start screaming and not stop until you’re done?” I ask arching my eyebrow. The nurse comes out calling my name and Allen just picks me up. He holds me like a baby with my arms around his neck and face in his chest. My big toe is already turning some very unflattering colors clashing with my polish, which unreasonably pisses me off on top of the pain. He doesn’t have an arm to hold Molly’s hand with so, he shifts me around in a baby monkey hold my good leg wrapped around his waist. I keep my arms draped around his neck and straddle his stomach with one of his hands under my diapered ass. It is a super embarrassing way to be hauled around! We follow the nurse into a room and he sits me down on a paper covered exam table. We wait about fifteen more minutes with nurses and others coming in and out of the room. The doctor comes in like a paperwork tornado. He pokes and prods at my ankle, leg, foot, and toe. I hold up, but I can’t pull back the tears, that shit freaking hurts.“I’m fairly certain you have a severely fractured big toe. I think it’s dislocated too. I’m sending you for x-rays of your toe and ankle. The bruising is already starting up. That’s pretty quick. It’ll be a nasty sprain if nothing else. I’ll have a nurse clean up your foot before you go in. Your ankle is at least a high sprain and may have some hairline fractures as well, but nothing is massively out of place there. If your toe is dislocated, I’ll have to reduce it before we get you out of here. You’re looking at maybe casts for sure walking boot. The x-rays will tell.” He pats my knee calling for his nurse. The ibu I’d swallowed at home finally starts kicking in. I feel a layer or two the pain peeling back as the nurse cleans my feet. It is super weird and I don’t my like feet anyway, so I’m very uncomfortable. I focus on talking to Allen and Molly instead.“Stop squirming Rob. She’ll be done in a bit.” Allen comforts me. He turns to the nurse, “She doesn’t like feet.”A bit later they wheel me into x-ray leaving Allen and Molly in the waiting room. They painfully articulate my ankle snapping two of the toe and four of the ankle. I thoroughly wet my diaper while trying to hold my ankle in a bad angle that ramps up my pain. Back in the emergency treatment room, “Allen” I whisper. “I’m soaked. I’m super worried I’m going to leak. What the hell do we do?” ----- The Diapered Story of Robin Smith and Her Unconventional Solutions. 12. I’m genuinely terrified, but Allen doesn’t appear to have any answers for me. Worse yet, it doesn’t look like I’m getting out of here any time soon. So, we sit and wait on the doctor while I worry anxiously over my wet butt. Molls starts getting impatient fidgeting and starting to whine. Of course, that does nothing positive for my mood! Now I have a soggy ass and a kid that is about to lose her cool. Allen picks her up smiling at me. He sits her beside me in the hospital bed while breaking out his phone.I guess she was quiet longer than I thought she would be. I love you so much Doodlebug! I can’t wait for you to grow out of this awful whining stage though. Lord, it’s annoying. Shit. I’m whining too. I think as I realize I’m pouting. The edges of my mouth twerk up and I smile to myself.We’re still waiting when I feel the need to pee rise. Everything I’d drank at lunch and outside before my “foot thing” calls knocking at my bladders door. I “psst” at Allen catching his attention and motioning toward my diapered crotch with my eyes. I release a little pressure and sigh letting him know that I was wetting right then. I see the comprehension in Allen’s face. He moves Molly to the chair and checks the hospital door. Finding it fully closed, he comes to stand by my head. He leans in and picks me up gingerly. “Why don’t you just finish really fast? Then I’ll take it off of you and clean you up. You can go commando till we get out’a here.” “That’ll work. Hey, just sit me on the toilet… I can finish there.” I whisper out loud improving his plan cause there wasn’t any sense in wetting my overalls.Why the hell didn’t I think of that…? Because you don’t want to be without one! That’s why you twat… I bash myself. Answering your own mental questions is the first sign of insanity? I narrate internally. Then I mentally laugh at myself causing a physical laughing to trickle out into Allen’s shoulder.Allen sits me on the humongous hospital potty. I undo my overall bibs and hold myself up off the toilet while he tugs them down to my ankles. I look up at Allen with a mischievous look on my face and wet the diaper before he can pull it off me. As I’d feared, I over flow my protection hearing my water meet the toilet’s. Good call Princess Mommy! I think to myself.“You done yet?” Allen asks chuckling. “Yeah, hey look there! There’s wipes in here.” I point.“Got ya.” I don’t go commando very often, particularly in jean material! There are some delicate bits that should never suffer the indignity of blue jean friction. I can almost feel the furrows forming in my ass cheeks leaving funny prints in my skin. Redressed and cleaned up, Allen deposits me on the bed. I adjust my overalls moving and tugging the crotch trying to make sure no jean seams line up with my own!The doctor knocks once rapidly and sliding in the room. He puts the X-Ray’s on the wall unit lighting it up. He smiles at us grabbing his rolling doctor’s stool and scooting over to my bed side. Allen drops Molly in his lap and silences the phone preparing to listen to the doctor.“Well, I have good news and bad news!” The doctor breaks the strained silence. I sigh at his response, “Well, let’s start with the bad news!”“K, Good news. Your leg isn’t broken, but your toe sure is!” He says. “I wanted the bad news first!” I huff.“Well, the bad news is your leg isn’t broken!” He dead pans.“I don’t understand.” Allen says. “Well, my diagnosis is a high ankle sprain with a tearing of the ligaments between the tibia and fibula. Frankly, it’s more painful and is a longer recovery than a brake. In fact, most patients with this injury require physical therapy to get back in motion.” He concludes.“Well, that’s not good. Short term?” Allen asks.We talk for about thirty minutes while the doctor reduces my toe. The pain causes me to lurch forward in the bed. I feel the crotch of my overalls dampen. I immediately flush red color swamping my features. The guys simply believe it’s my reaction to the pain, but it’s not. It’s a insane feeling of embarrassment. Son of a BITCH! I yell internally.In the end, I wind up without a cast! They have this wrap-splint thing for my foot that stabilizes my toe and a high ankle walking boot for the sprain. I’m stuck 24/7 in the boot for four weeks and in the toe cast-wrap-splint-thing for the same. The doctor suspects that I’ll be in the boot for another six to eight weeks tapering off after the initial four weeks.The hospital insists that I ride a wheel chair to the emergency room outdoor pickup. I don’t fight them, but I can feel myself piddle when the orderly helps me up and then I sit into the chair. Allen picks up Molly trailing us out of the ER treatment area. I sit with the orderly while Allen grabs the car. We make a bit of small talk, or I try to. It seems like I have too or somehow he’d know that I’d wet myself. This is why I always wear a pad! Fuck! I yell inside fully of anger and shame. God, I just want to be home and cleaned up!Allen pulls up and hops out. Molly waves frantically at me. I wave back at her shyly. The orderly helps me to stand as he comes around our car. I turn around facing the orderly who smiles gently at me.“Sir?” “Yeah?” “Do you have a towel or something? If you don’t, I can get a trash bag or something for your wife.” The orderly murmurs.“I… Uh…” I stutter mortified.“We keep a towel in here for our daughter. I’ll get it.” Allen says walking to the back of the car and popping the trunk. “Oh. My. God. I’m… I can’t…” I flounder for words.“Oh Ma’am. Don’t worry about it. Stuff happens all the time. We have to sanitize these between each patient anyway. There’s no extra work and you don’t have to be embarrassed.” He tells me.“I can’t help it. This is so embarrassing.” “Can I give you a hug?” The fatherly large blonde orderly asks me.“I guess.” He leans in, “Listen, no one comes here because everything is fine.” He releases me.“We’re like IT. No one calls those guys when their computers are working fine just to say ‘Hey, my PC is working great and screaming fast!’ Nope, folks come here messed up. We try to send them home better than they arrived. That’s all we are hoping for. I’ve seen much worse. Please try not to feel to bad.”“Thanks man. She needed that, but she’s still gonna moan for days about this.” “She’s right. the. Fuck. HERE!” Anger is easier than embarrassment. So I go with anger.“Awe, here let me help you up Rob. We’ll get you home and cleaned up!” Allen says lifting me into the car. “Ya’ll take care now!” The orderly says turning his back and waving at us. It is late afternoon by the time we pull up into our driveway. Allen gets Molly to grab my purse and he carries me into the house directly to our bed. I sigh and take another round of Ibu. I’d taken the good stuff the ER doc prescribed immediately after we picked it up at Walgreens on the way home, but it hasn’t kicked in yet. I sag into our soft bed happy to be home, but injured and whiney about it lying on another towel. “On the bright side, you love skirts!” Allen teases. “I do, but I love my jeans more!” I pout. “Are you in a lot of pain right now?” “I think that stuff the doctor gave me is kicking in. I feel sleepy and tingly. Like my fingers are waking up from falling asleep.” I tell him snapping my fingers.“Sounds like it.” Allen chuckles. He diapers me with the same tender care he did the first time. I relax even further lying on the fluffy bead in my fluffy diaper elated to be dry. I put my arms out to the side making a comforter snow angle and giggle at the ceiling. God, I’m high as fuck… hehehehe I realize and find hilarious. “Yeah, I think you are hon.” Allen agrees. “Was that out loud?” I ask with wide eyes.“Yeah.” He laughs at me. “I hate this.” I whimper.“I know. You just can’t stand not being in control can you?” He laughs.“Well, I mean… yeah. Mine! All of it… hahaha.” I laugh.“You staying in here or coming out there?” He asks.“I don’t wanna be all loopy in front of Doodlebug.” “I get it. You just gonna lay there in your bra and diaper? Want some more clothes?”“Uh… yeah rotate the laundry. Remember coldy-cold water for da colors man.” I try for a suffer guy voice. “Oh man, I’m sad I’m gonna miss this. You’ll adjust though. You’ll be fine tomorrow I bet.” He assures me.“Leave me here until the whites dry up. I wanna wear a onesie, but I’ll stay here under the covers until then. Maybe take a nap.” I try to roll on my side. “Let’s get you covered up Princess Mommy.” Allen reassures me patting my butt.“Don’t forget to change me. I’m totally not getting up for peeing in this thing. Hey bring me my phone and put the charger in here… pppppwease.” I let him tuck me in like a kid and quickly drift off to sleep.
  25. WIN_20171106_20_18_51_Pro.jpg

    From the album luierpoepke

    my new abena m3 pull up