The Girl Who Wanted to Wear Diapers (Ch. 24 - 4/24/24)

[Allman90]

Bonus theory, the parents are ABDL but are self-conscious about it and overcompensate by trying to keep their kids as far away as from diapers as possible. 

[JustaFoxGirl]

It's pretty fascinating to watch Maddy come up with so many plans, and then run into another barrier.

[Kaiko-chan]

I wonder what Maddy will try next. 

[zzzz50]

Since the parents have planned a long vacation and an overnight soccer camp the parents may have to address the bedwetting in a way Maddy will be happy.

[MinnesotaWriter]

13 hours ago, Allman90 said:

Bonus theory, the parents are ABDL but are self-conscious about it and overcompensate by trying to keep their kids as far away as from diapers as possible. 

That would certainly make things pretty wild.

11 hours ago, JustaFoxGirl said:

It's pretty fascinating to watch Maddy come up with so many plans, and then run into another barrier.

I know. If they were normal ABDL-story parents, she'd have what she wants already and then some.

8 hours ago, Kaiko-chan said:

I wonder what Maddy will try next. 

There's lots of things for her to try, but she went to bed with the plan to wake up early to wet it before school, so we'll have to see how that plays out first.

52 minutes ago, zzzz50 said:

Since the parents have planned a long vacation and an overnight soccer camp the parents may have to address the bedwetting in a way Maddy will be happy.

That's possible, also possible that it could result in adjusting summer plans. But that's still over a month away, so they're going to have to figure out things in the meantime. And there's also that sleepover/allnighter that Maddy's friends want to have on her birthday.

[MinnesotaWriter]

Chapter 13: It Feels Good

I winced as I pulled the blaring earbud out of my ear. The left side of my head ached terribly. Perhaps that was the result of sleeping with an earbud all night long. Or maybe that was because of how unexpectedly loud my alarm had sounded when it had gone off like that.

With my earbuds now laying harmlessly on the bed, the blaring alarm coming from them was only barely audible. It certainly wasn’t anywhere near loud enough to be heard from outside of my bedroom.

I was almost stunned that my plan to wake up early had actually worked. And, with my alarm tied to my earbuds, I hadn’t woken up my family either.

I yawned several times. It was another early morning for me. But, unlike when Chester had woken me up early yesterday, this time, it had at least been intentional. That didn’t mean I wasn’t going to feel the effects of less sleep, though. I had another long day of end-of-year tests, which I wasn’t looking forward to in the least. Well, it wasn’t so much the tests that I wasn’t looking forward to, but what my report card would be saying when my parents checked my grades online later.

The hard part was over, at least. I was awake. I had plenty of time until I was actually supposed to be up for school. All I had to do now was to wet the bed intentionally.

The one good thing was that I did need to pee. It didn’t matter that I’d had less to drink yesterday or that I’d used the toilet right before getting into bed. A nearly full night of sleep was still enough for my bladder to fill up again.

The need to go wasn’t super urgent. I likely wouldn’t have had an issue with going back to sleep and waiting to use the toilet when getting up for school at a normal time.

I remained under my covers as I rolled over to lie flat on my stomach. The noise of the bed crinkling beneath me served as a reminder of last night’s conversation with my parents and the mattress swap afterward.

For a few brief, wonderful moments last night, I had thought that I had managed to convince my parents to get pull-ups, but for whatever reason, they seemed to think this was a better way to manage my bedwetting, at least for now. I had to remind myself that I had only begun the bedwetting plan on Friday evening, and it was now Wednesday morning. Not even a week had passed. I had to admit that it wasn’t reasonable to expect pull-ups that quickly.

This new mattress had come as a complete surprise. That didn’t mean there weren’t some obvious benefits to the waterproof mattress. I wouldn’t have to work so hard to clean things up after an accident. No need to go and grab paper towels, cleaning sprays, and baking soda. I wouldn’t have to feel guilty about possibly ruining my mattress.

It also meant that it wouldn’t matter if the accident wasn’t cleaned up immediately. There wouldn’t be any worries about the urine soaking into the mattress, to the point of being impossible to get rid of the smell and stains.

I suspected that it wouldn’t be likely that I’d be able to fall back to sleep afterward, but I could at least feign sleep until Mom came to wake me up. I wasn’t looking forward to her seeing the result of the bedwetting – I had at least avoided having her witness my wet pajamas since that first fake bedwetting accident on Friday evening.

I had to make sure the accident looked natural. It was one thing for Mom or Grace to see my wet bed in the middle of the night, when they were probably groggy and their faculties may not be fully working. It was something else in the bright morning light.

The easiest way to do that would be to actually pee myself while lying down this time, rather than while lying down in bed, but to do that, I would need to get past whatever mental block had been making it difficult for me to urinate while my bottom wasn’t hovering over a toilet.

I still had plenty of time. There were another forty minutes until I was supposed to be up. And, if I pretended that I had slept past my alarm, that probably gave me another five to ten minutes past that before Mom would come in and check on me.

I rotated through a couple of different mental exercises as I attempted to convince my bladder that it was OK to pee. I tried thinking about rain, rivers, and dripping faucets, but unlike the two nights when I had been kneeling over the bed, that wasn’t enough, though I did feel my bladder getting closer to the point of release.

Next, I tried to picture myself seated on the toilet, thinking about the sensation of sitting on the cold plastic toilet seat, but I didn’t think my bladder found that mental image to be all that convincing while I was lying on my stomach.

I strained my muscles as much as I could. I came so close, but it still wasn’t enough to get the floodgates to open. Ten minutes had already passed by. I knew that in the worst-case scenario I would simply emulate how I had wet the bed those first to nights, but I wanted more than anything to do it the right way for once.

There was more to that desire than wanting to make sure my mom was convinced it was a legitimate bedwetting accident. I wanted to know what it felt like to wet the bed.

Perhaps the problem was with how I was lying on my stomach, with how my bladder was pressed up against the bed. But instead of sitting up completely, I slid my arms under my chest so that my waist was just an inch or two off of my sheets.

It was a small difference, but it proved to be exactly what I needed. I put all my concentration into getting my bladder to release, and a minute later, I began to pee. The warm urine quickly began to stream through my underwear and cotton shorts. A few seconds later, I lowered myself back onto the bed as my bladder continued to empty.

Like the other two times I had peed the bed, once I had started, there was no stopping it, not even after adjusting into a position where I had previously not been able to get my bladder to release.

It was a vastly different experience to wet myself while lying down rather than doing it while kneeling over my bed. My shorts and even my shirt got significantly wetter as the urine pooled beneath me.

This is where the difference of having a waterproof mattress became clear. As the urine wasn’t able to soak into the mattress, that meant it instead soaked further and further through my sheets and pajamas, in a large wet spot with my waist at the epicenter.

When I finally stopped peeing another twenty seconds later, I was wet all the way from my knees to the middle of my chest.

My previous attempts at wetting the bed had felt a bit awkward and embarrassing. This was different. My heart was racing, but not from being afraid. There was a sense of exhilaration. Why was that? Was it because I had wet myself in a more realistic way? It certainly felt more real to pee while lying down than to do it how I had done it before. The sensation of laying in urine-soaked pajamas and sheets should have been off-putting, but it wasn’t. The warm sensation surrounding me felt comforting in a way I couldn’t explain.

I laid as still as I possibly could under the sheets. I was left to ponder how it would feel when all of that warmth and wetness was instead contained by the pull-up.

<><><> 

“Maddy. Maddy. It’s time to wake up.”

My eyes flickered open and then shut right away again.

I was in bed, but something felt really off. I turned my head to the sound of Mom’s voice.

Everything beneath me was damp and clammy. The exhilaration of the bedwetting incident had faded away along with the warmth. Given Mom’s calm reaction so far, the urine must not have soaked upwards through my sheets or cover. From her vantage point, everything must have appeared dry.

“At least you made it through the night,” Mom said. “I suppose we didn’t need the new mattress tonight after all, but still, it will be good to have it as a precaution until we’re sure this bedwetting phase is over.”

There was no escaping from Mom finding out about the bedwetting. I mean, she had to find out, but what was the best way to do it?

I didn’t want to be forced to tell her about it, but the alternative, throwing off my covers and revealing just exactly how big of a mess I’d made in bed, was embarrassing as well. I resisted her request to get out of bed and pulled the cover tighter over my body.

“Just a few more minutes.”

“Madelyn, seriously, you’re going to miss the bus if you don’t get your bottom out of bed right now.”

“But Mom…” I couldn’t bring myself to finish the sentence, to admit having wet the bed.

Mom’s expression shifted as she walked back toward the bed. “Is something wrong?”

“Um.” What else was I supposed to say? But it didn’t really matter. I was sure my face was giving away how embarrassed I was feeling again.

Mom reached down and gave my cover and sheets a gentle tug that was enough to reveal the reality of what lay beneath them.

“Oh, Maddy.” Mom sighed as she looked down at me.

I looked away from Mom, down at the massive wet patch beneath me. It was even bigger than I had imagined in my head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t know it happened until you woke me up.”

“It’s alright,” Mom said. “Let’s just focus on getting you ready for school.”

I slid gingerly out of bed. I decided that as much as I liked the immediate aftermath of wetting myself in bed, I didn’t care as much for how things felt once everything cooled off. Mom gave me a careful hug, making sure to not press up against the wet spots on my pajamas.

“I’ll take care of getting everything cleaned up. Just toss your wet pajamas on the bed and head to the shower.”

Mom retreated to the hallway, shutting the bedroom door behind her and giving me some momentary privacy to get undressed.

I stripped out of my wet clothes and tossed them on the bed. How many more nights and mornings like this was it going to take?

<><><> 

By the time I was dressed and out of the shower, all my bedding had been stripped and taken to the laundry room. The light-blue mattress was a strange look in the middle of my bedroom. There wasn’t anyway but to admit that it was an effective method for handling bedwetting.

Nothing further was said about the bedwetting incident. Mom handed me a cup of yogurt for breakfast. From the kitchen, I could hear the washing machine running down in the basement. If Grace or Jackson had noticed all the laundry Mom had taken downstairs, neither of them made any mention of it, either.

I finished off the small can of yogurt in record speed and then grabbed my backpack and headed toward the front door to wait for the bus. I would be able to see it coming off in the distance, so there wasn’t any need to leave the house until it was in sight.

There was a pile of mail near the front door that had been brought in last night that hadn’t been yet been sorted.

On top of it was another copy of Reader’s Digest. Recently, there was a new ad for the bedwetting pull-ups about every other issue. I had assumed that Mom must have seen the advertisement at some point or another.

I wasn’t as sure that she had ever used these pull-ups with my sister, but I had hoped that all the advertising would have given her the idea that this could be an option to use with me. But maybe she just skimmed past the ad without looking at the finer details. The size range for the pull-ups was in small print, after all.

There had to be something I could do to get her to take a closer look at the advertisement without letting her know that I was behind it. With the bus seemingly running a few minutes behind schedule, an idea came up for something I could put into motion before I headed off to school.

Everyone else was still in the kitchen. The bus wasn’t in sight yet. My affinity for the magazine was already well known by my parents. Since they viewed it as educational, it wouldn’t stand out as suspicious if they came across me reading through it.

I leaned back against the wall as quickly skimmed through the magazine. To my good luck, the ad for the bedwetting pull-ups appeared smack in the middle of the magazine. But how could I make sure it got Mom’s attention this time?

A few ideas floated in my head. I could slightly crinkle the edges of a few pages – the pull-up ad included – so that when Mom was skimming through the magazine, she would be more likely to stop on it. But that didn’t feel like enough to actually get her attention.

I could leave the magazine open to this page, but face down. On the opposite page was the start of a story I could plausibly be interested in. But would that be too much? I thought I could pass it off as believable. And I could always feign some initial discomfort at the idea of pull-ups when my parents did bring it up as an option.

I pretended to read the magazine, though really all I was doing was taking in the image of the pull-up on the page, reading through all the features — five-layer protection, double leg barriers, the ability to absorb three cups of liquid. That last bit of information seemed most relevant to my case. I had peed a lot in each of the bedwetting accidents, but certainly not much. It gave me hope that the pull-ups would work for me when the time to wear them finally arrived.

A minute later, I caught sight of the yellow bus off in the distance. I hastily set the magazine face down on the table, hoping that it would at last catch Mom’s attention when she opened it up later.

 

---

Links to all my stories can be found at https://abdlwriter.wordpress.com/ 

[Little Sherri]

I agree with what some others have said - I like the slow burn on this one. It's realistic. Kids don't concoct these ideas and then realize them within a couple of days, generally. They are working from a position of scant resources and minimal influence. 

[thedman]

I love the Reader's Digest references.  That is where I can recall seeing my first ever Goodnites ads as well, a picture of a suitcase with a white pull up in the middle.

[AnythingWillDo]

If this is a ‘A Christmas Story’ reference with the magazine I love it! If not, still great. So far I don’t think she is tipping her hand but the longer it goes the less likely I think the parents actually figure it out. Her new method should work well for her. 
 

I am thinking a daytime ‘nap’ accident might help her out too. Like on a car trip! 
 

new theory - Grace ends up in a pull-up before Maddie (She’s be so mad!)

[MinnesotaWriter]

On 3/22/2024 at 3:10 PM, Little Sherri said:

I agree with what some others have said - I like the slow burn on this one. It's realistic. Kids don't concoct these ideas and then realize them within a couple of days, generally. They are working from a position of scant resources and minimal influence. 

Thanks, and that's why i like having the flashback chapters as well,  showing how much of a buildup there has been to this point. 

On 3/22/2024 at 3:37 PM, thedman said:

I love the Reader's Digest references.  That is where I can recall seeing my first ever Goodnites ads as well, a picture of a suitcase with a white pull up in the middle.

Thanks,  I've never come across one that old in real life,  just scene those older ads on the internet. 

On 3/22/2024 at 11:05 PM, AnythingWillDo said:

If this is a ‘A Christmas Story’ reference with the magazine I love it! If not, still great. So far I don’t think she is tipping her hand but the longer it goes the less likely I think the parents actually figure it out. Her new method should work well for her. 
 

I am thinking a daytime ‘nap’ accident might help her out too. Like on a car trip! 
 

new theory - Grace ends up in a pull-up before Maddie (She’s be so mad!)

It's been a while since I've watched that movie. Trying ti think of what scene you're referring to. 

 

And yes, Maddy would be quite mad at that. 

[MinnesotaWriter]

Chapter 14: Let It All Soak In

I couldn’t fully blame my lack of sleep for how distracted I was from the standardized test I was taking.

I suppressed yet another yawn as I tried to recall all the advice Grace had given me about multiple-choice tests. There was the obvious – when in doubt, choose “C.” Then, there were other pieces of advice, such as working to eliminate wrong answers to make it easier when I still needed to guess.

On the geometry question I was staring at, I was fairly certain that “C” was incorrect, and I was skeptical of “D” as well.

That’s what made the whole thing suck even more. If I just had more time to work things through on a sheet of paper, perhaps I’d arrive at the answer, but I had a little over a minute for each question, meaning I had to just mark an answer and move on to the next one or risk not completely finishing the test.

I took hold of my pencil and filled in the “B” circle. At least I had narrowed that question down to having a fifty percent chance of getting it right.

Nine months of learning all boiled down to two days of filling in circles for hours and hours on end. I hated that this was supposed to somehow serve as proof that I had managed to learn anything over the course of the school year. Then again, it wasn’t as though my performance throughout the rest of the school year could have been regarded as spectacular.

If I had considered how tired the bedwetting was going to make me, I might have been able to exercise enough self-control to delay this experiment until after the school year had ended, but now I was stuck with the consequences of those decisions.

Still, I should have been able to do better on the test.

It was true that I was tired. It was also true that I had gotten significantly less sleep than normal since Friday evening.

But it wasn’t even lunchtime yet. Even on nights when I didn’t get that much sleep, I usually was capable of summoning the willpower to stay on task for the first couple hours of school.

That wasn’t the case today. That’s because something else was on my mind. Something that challenged everything I had thought I had known about my pursuit of pull-ups over the past few years.

Despite my best efforts, my thoughts kept attempting to drift back to that scene in bed earlier this morning when I had peed in my pajamas while lying down on the bed. I had finally succeeded in coaxing my body to allow my bladder to release in a more natural sleeping position. The result had been a rush of exhilarating physical sensations and emotions that had taken me completely by surprise, especially as that hadn’t been the case the two other times I had peed while kneeling over my sheets.

There were a couple of things I knew were true about my interest in pull-ups.

There was something about the overall presence and feeling of wearing a pull-up that I found comforting, from the way the sides hugged around my waist to the softness of the interior absorbent padding to the way the bulky padding fit between my legs.

I could still recall the mesmerizing way the pull-up had crinkled as I had held it in my hands and slid it up my legs. It had brought a sense of calm and assurance that shouldn’t have been possible for just a change in undergarments.

I had always assumed that I would wet a pull-up when I got a chance to wear one next. That was what one did when they wore a pull-up. I had no idea whether that was something I was going to enjoy, but I was desperate to discover what it felt like. With the way my wetting experiment had gone this morning, I felt it was safe to assume that this was something I was going to enjoy.

What I had never expected was that I would now be desperately wanting to wet my pants again, not because doing so was part of a scheme to get my parents to purchase pull-ups for me, but because I enjoyed doing it in and of itself.

I looked up at the clock near the doorway to the classroom. How long had I been staring blankly at the next question? Five minutes.

I hurried through the new few questions, skimming them briefly before hastily filling in my first guess. Grace had told me a horror story about college prep tests where one would actually lose points if they got an answer wrong, meaning that guessing was risky business, as it was better for your grade to leave a question blank than to be incorrect. At least that wasn’t the case with this test.

I took a deep breath. I was still on track to finish the test on time. Just had to stay focused, remind myself that I would have all summer to experiment with these new desires. There were only twenty minutes left before it would be time to break for lunch.

I managed to get through three more questions before I once again succumbed to my daydreams, drawn in by other questions that I felt more strongly compelled to answer.

There were so many things I wanted to know now. What would it feel like to wet my wants while I was standing, with the urine trickling down my legs and onto the floor? What about when sitting down on a chair, where it would cause my bottom to get soaked rather than my front?

The best part of all was that I didn’t need any special undergarments to explore any of these newly desired experiences.

But none of this meant that my longing for pull-ups was, in any way, lessened.

I hadn’t thought that it would be possible for my desire for pull-ups to grow any more intense than it had already done in the past three years. But the revelation that I enjoyed peeing myself meant that there was even more to look forward to when I finally got the pull-ups.

But in the meantime, I was eagerly looking forward to when I would be alone in bed this evening, and I was already working out ways I could circumvent my family’s attempts to limit my hydration.

<><><> 

The worst part about the standardized tests was that they were done in long sections. They made us sit at our desks for seventy-minute test sections. That was far too long to be sitting on an uncomfortable wood desk.

Angie and Emma weren’t even in the same room for me for the testing, not that it mattered, as we wouldn’t have had any chance to communicate, anyway. I joined my friends at a table in the cafeteria. Angie was already halfway through her lunch, and Emma had gotten a few bites into hers.

“Took you long enough,” Angie said as I took a seat across the table from her. “I was done fifteen minutes early.”

My face burned. I had used up every last second, filling in circles right up until the moment we were directed to immediately set our pencils down. I hadn’t done well at all. The worst of it was I’d left a handful of questions unanswered at the end.

“What did your mom say about the sleepover?” Emma asked between bites of her ham and cheese sandwich.

I had put off asking Mom about the sleepover. I had still been working on the best way to convince her that an all-nighter would not only be OK, but would be a good way to circumvent her concerns about bedwetting.

I gave an excuse that, under most circumstances, would have been the honest truth. “Uh, I forgot.”

Emma tilted her head back and rolled her eyes. “Seriously, Maddy, do I need to like text you a reminder to make sure you do it?”

<><><> 

The copy of Reader’s Digest was still on the entryway table when I got home from school. Mom probably hadn’t had time yet to take a look at it before she went off to work. I left it untouched. I’d just have to wait for her to read it after dinner.

Grace was already home. Mom and Dad still didn’t allow me to have the house to myself for more than five to ten minutes at a time.

That had been different with Grace. By the time she was turning thirteen, they had not only entrusted her to stay alone by herself, but they had allowed her to be home with Jackson and me. I, on the other hand, apparently still required constant supervision. It would likely be another year or two before they finally moved on from that time when I had accidentally left the stovetop burners on.

I had the next few evenings planned out for if, when, and how I was going to continue the bedwetting. Tonight, Wednesday night, I was going to wet the bed for real again, but do it in the middle of the night, rather than early in the morning.

On Thursday, I would give the bedwetting a break, figuring that the occasional dry night would make the rest of the wet nights appear more natural.

On Friday night, or really Saturday morning, I would again wet the bed for real once I woke up in the morning.

Tonight was the trickiest, with all of my family members save Jackson paying close attention to my hydration and bathroom habits.

My phone buzzed. Emma had just texted me a reminder to ask Mom about the sleepover. I texted back to inform her that Mom was at work and that I would be asking her after dinner.

I headed off to the restroom at the urging of my bladder. I tugged down my pants to the disappointing sight of my underwear. Using the toilet had never felt so completely unsatisfying as it did right now. If only I could be going potty in my pants instead.

As I sat on the toilet, I tried to make sense of why this new desire had appeared.

I’d struggled throughout the day to understand the why of what had happened earlier. Was this tied to my desire to wear the pull-up again? Was it something altogether different, a new spark?

<><><> 

Mom made me wait thirty minutes after dinner before she finally picked up the Reader’s Digest magazine. I hadn’t been able to witness the moment of truth, so I was left to guess whether the pull-up ad had caught her gaze when she had first grabbed the magazine.

She looked up from the magazine as I walked into the living room.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure, what do you need?”

“My friends were wanting to do a sleepover for my birthday party.”

“Maddy,” Mom said. “Are we really sure that is a good idea right now?”

At least Mom had the courtesy not to mention bedwetting, as Jackson was still in the room.

“They suggested that we could pull an all-nighter. So, that way there won’t be any issues since I won’t be falling asleep until we leave.”

Mom frowned. “I’m going to need to talk with your father about that.”

That wasn’t usually a promising sign, as Mom tended to be more lenient than Dad when it came to giving me permission to do new things. However, the fact that I hadn’t gotten an outright no was at least encouraging.

My biggest problem would be trying to explain to my friends why I suddenly wasn’t allowed to have sleepovers anymore if my parents were to reject the all-nighter plan and not offer pull-ups as a solution.

I texted Emma to let her know that I had asked Mom and that I hadn’t gotten an immediate decision. Now, it was time to put my plan to get hydrated for tonight into motion.

I went upstairs to my bedroom and scoured through my closet, digging through boxes of old soccer equipment until I came across exactly what I was looking for. It was a water bottle I had been given at a camp a year or two back, one of the annoying ones with one of those spouts that almost made it feel as though I was drinking out of a toddler sippy cup.

With the rest of my soccer cups in the cupboard downstairs – Mom had insisted they be thoroughly washed with the soccer season over – this was the perfect find, as no one would have a clue that I was using it.

I waited until Gace had started her evening task of washing dishes. Yes, I could have done this while she was secluded in her bedroom, but I wasn’t going to take the slight risk of her coming out at an inopportune time and catching me in the process of filling up the bottle.

It was a twenty-four-ounce bottle. More than enough to get sufficiently hydrated to allow me to easily pee.

A few minutes later, it was full of yucky tap water from the upstairs bedroom, but it wouldn’t make any difference. My body would work to convert it to urine just the same as if it had been fancy filtered water. In the end, it all came out the same way.

<><><> 

I squirmed underneath the covers as the clock moved ever closer to midnight.

This was partly due to the physical need to urinate. I had downed the whole water bottle in the hour before I had gotten ready for bed. But it was also in anticipation of what I was about to do. In my head, I kept replaying the moment I had wet the bed last night.

Thirty minutes to midnight. The sounds now coming from the bedroom told me that Mom and Dad were in the final stages of getting ready for bed. They always fell asleep quickly.

There wasn’t any reason I couldn’t wet myself now rather than wait until midnight. It wasn’t as though I was going to want to get up and get cleaned up right away. I wanted time to savor the moment I had been looking forward to all day long, let it all soak in.

I made a short and futile attempt to pee while lying on my back, but that was completely hopeless. It didn’t even feel as though I’d come close to getting my bladder to release.

That changed when I rolled over to my stomach, the mattress loudly protesting beneath me as I did so.

I didn’t bother with any more experimentation. I knew now what worked, so I followed the same exact routine. I slid my hands under my chest, raising myself up ever so slightly off of the mattress. My bladder emptied at the slightest urging.

I dropped down onto the mattress the moment I began to pee. The urine was streaming out of me so fast I could hear the sound of it as it came out. I hadn’t noticed how I’d been holding my breath. I breathed out slowly as my bladder emptied.

The expectations that had built up throughout the course of the day were more than exceeded. This was even better than last night, as the amount of water I had chugged before going to bed meant that I peed a lot longer. My sheets were soaked all the way past my knees.

The mental exhilaration of peeing myself like an actual bedwetter combined with the physical sensation of the intense warmth from the urine left me in a state of euphoria.

There was no sense of shame or embarrassment. It felt so good. It couldn’t possibly be wrong. My only regret was that it had taken me three years to realize that this was an option.

 

---

Links to all my stories can be found at https://abdlwriter.wordpress.com/ 

[Allman90]

Ah, a time machine.

Is that your secret to writing quickly?

[Bonsai]

Bad grades are coming soon and, with those, disruption of Summer plans.

A logical connection between bad grades an bedwetting is likely to be implied and then, maybe, a deeper investigation on the two issues will be started. Ending result is open.

[spark]

Maddy had an interesting realization about peeing her pants.  

BTW- why haven't her parents contacted a doctor yet?   I mean a sudden change is not normal.

[JustaFoxGirl]

Things are certainly getting interesting, and Maddy is learning something about herself that will definitely affect her mindset going forward.

1 hour ago, spark said:

BTW- why haven't her parents contacted a doctor yet?   I mean a sudden change is not normal.

It may still happen, but given how they explained that they were both bedwetters, and with Grace being one herself so long, they probably assume it's genetics and are not giving it much thought.

[MinnesotaWriter]

On 3/25/2024 at 5:26 AM, Allman90 said:

Ah, a time machine.

Is that your secret to writing quickly?

Something like that, lol. That's the danger of posting around midnight and getting a little mixed up on what the date is. 

On 3/25/2024 at 9:12 AM, Bonsai said:

Bad grades are coming soon and, with those, disruption of Summer plans.

A logical connection between bad grades an bedwetting is likely to be implied and then, maybe, a deeper investigation on the two issues will be started. Ending result is open.

I think things will be a little awkward when the report card arrives. Not sure how much gets tied to the bedwetting, it's pretty clear that Maddy hasn't ever been that good of a student in the first place.

10 hours ago, spark said:

Maddy had an interesting realization about peeing her pants.  

BTW- why haven't her parents contacted a doctor yet?   I mean a sudden change is not normal.

There are a number of reasons a doctor hasn't been involved yet.

It's important to remember that not much time has passed in the story. Maddy first wets the bed early Saturday morning. The last chapter ends Wednesday evening, meaning it's been less than a week since the first bedwetting accident happened. And they would have viewed the first couple of accidents as a random fluke occurrence.

Also, this is in the U.S., doctor's appointments aren't something that can easily be set up the next day, especially for something that, while concerning, is in any way an emergency.

And this finals week for Maddy. It wouldn't make any sense for her parents to hold her out of school and cause her to miss her exams to go to a doctor's appointment that could be much more easily scheduled for when school is out. Plus, one of the parents will need to arrange time off of work themselves to get her to a doctor as well.

Finally, the parents are familiar with bedwetting from their own experience and their experience with Grace; the initial steps they are taking, limiting liquids and making sure she goes to the toilet before bed, are some pieces of advice that would be given anyway at a doctor's appointment.
 

9 hours ago, JustaFoxGirl said:

Things are certainly getting interesting, and Maddy is learning something about herself that will definitely affect her mindset going forward.

It may still happen, but given how they explained that they were both bedwetters, and with Grace being one herself so long, they probably assume it's genetics and are not giving it much thought.

I think it is fair to say that the parents are quite knowledgeable about bedwetting.

[LittleAcorn]

I've been enjoying this story - I love the slow burn, and think it totally fits with the characters.  I mean, I do want her to get pull-ups eventually, but it's fine if it takes a while.

Since others have been speculating (and since I kind of enjoy seeing that in the story I've been writing), I wonder what she did with the empty water bottle?  I wonder if her mom will find it.

[DiaperStoryReader]

It is interesting how you have set up that Madelyn is afraid to search the internet for diaper information. It means that she has a reason not to have discovered the ABDL community and gain at least passive support for her quest.   

[Little Sherri]

4 hours ago, DiaperStoryReader said:

It is interesting how you have set up that Madelyn is afraid to search the internet for diaper information. It means that she has a reason not to have discovered the ABDL community and gain at least passive support for her quest. 

Although, at that age, she might not know what ABDL is or that a community exists at all. Speaking from personal experience, as a kid, I thought I was the only person in the world who liked diapers - I'm talking from way back when I was 7,8,9 years old, so before it could even be called a "fetish". I gave up "this" for 20+ years after being caught by my stepfather when I was 13, and in the meantime, internet use became ubiquitous, and Google became where everyone went to find everything... and I still didn't search for it. When I finally discovered this society, it was, for me, like believing that I was alone on a desert island, and then one day finding a city over a distant hill. It happened accidentally, though - I decided to google adult cloth diapers, to see if anyone near me sold them, and I found two things almost immediately: Daily Diapers, and, Rearz, both of which blew my mind, because it meant that there was both a community, and an industry to serve them, meaning I was far from alone. However, at her age, she might not know that the internet can be used to summon midgets and donkeys, or latex chicken suits, or anything else the heart desires. 

[MinnesotaWriter]

9 hours ago, LittleAcorn said:

I've been enjoying this story - I love the slow burn, and think it totally fits with the characters.  I mean, I do want her to get pull-ups eventually, but it's fine if it takes a while.

Since others have been speculating (and since I kind of enjoy seeing that in the story I've been writing), I wonder what she did with the empty water bottle?  I wonder if her mom will find it.

There is certainly no question that she is going to get pull-ups, but yes, we aren't quite to that point just yet, outside of the flashback to her first pull-up experience.

I think it is safe to say the water bottle is tucked out of sight in her room.

8 hours ago, DiaperStoryReader said:

It is interesting how you have set up that Madelyn is afraid to search the internet for diaper information. It means that she has a reason not to have discovered the ABDL community and gain at least passive support for her quest.   

Had to have a way to put some limitations on her (having a dad in IT who is careful with where his kids go on the internet), especially with how thorough she has been in trying to get information about pull-ups and diapers. If it weren't for her concerns about being caught looking it up, she certainly would have been eager to look up information which I would rather not have her knowing at this point in the story.

3 hours ago, Little Sherri said:

Although, at that age, she might not know what ABDL is or that a community exists at all. Speaking from personal experience, as a kid, I thought I was the only person in the world who liked diapers - I'm talking from way back when I was 7,8,9 years old, so before it could even be called a "fetish". I gave up "this" for 20+ years after being caught by my stepfather when I was 13, and in the meantime, internet use became ubiquitous, and Google became where everyone went to find everything... and I still didn't search for it. When I finally discovered this society, it was, for me, like believing that I was alone on a desert island, and then one day finding a city over a distant hill. It happened accidentally, though - I decided to google adult cloth diapers, to see if anyone near me sold them, and I found two things almost immediately: Daily Diapers, and, Rearz, both of which blew my mind, because it meant that there was both a community, and an industry to serve them, meaning I was far from alone. However, at her age, she might not know that the internet can be used to summon midgets and donkeys, or latex chicken suits, or anything else the heart desires. 

Yeah, I was online (I hope secretly) as early as 11 and finding all kinds of stuff, but that changes the dynamic for Maddy too much. I think it's a more interesting story with her having more limited information, at least in this stage of her explorations.

[MinnesotaWriter]

Chapter 15: A Hard Pill to Swallow

I stumbled through the front door after being dropped off by the bus on Thursday afternoon.

I let my backpack fall to the floor with a loud bang as soon as I had shut the front door behind me. I was exhausted. It had been another seven hours of struggling to stay awake and focused through what had seemed to be an endless day of end-of-year exams.

The only relief was that I was finished with taking my last test for this school year. Now I had about a week of bliss before my end-of-year grades became available online.

Yes, I still had to go into school tomorrow, but that was just to wrap things up, clean out lockers, and have end-of-year pizza parties. I’d be free from homework, studying, tests, and early morning bus rides for the next three months.

Now, all I wanted to do was sleep.

Grace wasn’t anywhere to be seen. But I knew my older sister was home because the minivan she drove had been in the driveway when the school bus had dropped me off. I didn’t get what she did while she was shut away in her room all the time.

I took advantage of her absence to drink a glass of water in the kitchen. But with my recently discovered sports water bottle – tucked away in the deepest recesses of the bottom drawer of my dresser – sneaking around to stay hydrated enough to make myself wet the bed wasn’t going to be an issue ever again.

Angie and Emma had grilled me about the sleepover again during the ride home from school. That was annoying because I’d already told them yesterday that Mom had said she needed to think about the proposed all-nighter on my birthday a little over a week from now. I was hoping to get an answer about that from her tonight.

Neither of my friends were coming over after school. Angie was busy tonight with preparations for the vacation her family was heading out for as soon as school was out tomorrow. I would have had Emma over this evening, except that she had somewhere to be with her family.

I quickly cleaned the glass I’d gotten a drink from and then dried it off before putting it back in the sink, leaving no evidence behind.

Once in the living room, I kicked off my shoes and collapsed onto the couch.

<><><>

I woke up to Grace furiously shaking my shoulder. I opened my eyes and looked up. She was standing over me with a panicked look on her face.

“Leave me alone,” I mumbled, rolling over to not be facing my sister. “I was just taking a nap.”

“What in the world are you thinking?” Grace said, her voice sounding rather agitated.

“What do you think? I was taking a nap ’cause I was tired.”

“And how do you think Mom would feel about you peeing all over the couch? That’s a lot harder to clean up than your mattress?”

I turned back over to look up at Grace. “I wouldn’t do that during a nap.”

“Well, that’s what I thought once, too. Just go to your bedroom if you want to sleep.”

I yawned and looked at my phone. It was about twenty minutes since I had arrived home from school, but I felt a lot better even after that quick nap. “I think I’m fine, now.”

That did raise another interesting question. Was it common for bedwetters to have accidents if they fell asleep for a brief nap during the day?

And then there was another thought, one I would have to consider later. If being a bedwetter meant sometimes having an accident during a nap, that could create an excuse for me to experiment with peeing my pants more during the day.

“Actually, since you are awake,” Grace said. “You should probably get the cat litter taken care of before Mom gets home. It was really stinky when I was putting clothes in the washing machine before you got home. And you can get your laundry out of the dryer while you're down there because I’m going to need to use it soon for my stuff.”

It didn’t matter that Grace was saving me a potential lecture from my parents about not doing my chores. It still was annoying that she was telling me to do it.

I stomped noisily down the stairs on the way to the basement. This evening couldn’t come quickly enough.

<><><>

Mom had apparently talked through the proposal for the all-nighter with Dad, and neither of them was enthusiastic about it.

“It’s simply too risky, Maddy,” Mom said. She was sitting next to Dad on the couch. It was just me and my parents in the living room. Jackson was playing with Legos in his bedroom. Grace was off in the kitchen with her after-dinner chore of washing the dishes. “What if you fall asleep on the couch or on the floor by accident? I’m sure you don’t want to have a bedwetting accident around your friends.”

I tried to get them to see my side, to no avail. “But that is why we’ll have a bunch of energy drinks. There’s no way I’m going to fall asleep.”

“Maddy,” Dad said. “I don’t think you realize how much more caffeine is in those drinks. Even one drink could have four to five times as much caffeine as a can of pop.”

“What’s this about energy drinks?” Grace asked as she walked into the living room. There was a splatter of wet spots across her shirt from when she had been washing dishes.

“Maddy wants to do an all-nighter for a sleepover on her birthday to avoid the issues she’s been having at night. I was explaining that having a bunch of energy to stay awake the whole night isn’t going to be a good idea.”

“There is absolutely no way I would want to deal with three girls all drugged up on caffeine and who knows what else in energy drinks,” Grace said. “Seriously, Maddy. You get shakes just when you have more than one glass of Mountain Dew.”

“But,” I said, trying to protest.

“It’s not going to work,” Mom said. “An all-nighter is simply not a good idea.”

But this left me in a bind. If I couldn’t have a sleepover, what was I supposed to say to my friends?

“But I can’t tell Angie and Emma that I can’t do any more sleepovers.”

“I don’t think you’ll have to,” Mom said. “There’s something else we can do – something we did with your sister – to make it so you can have a sleepover, so long as it is a normal one without energy drinks.”

Pull-ups. Please let it be pull-ups. Perhaps the advertisement in the magazine had been enough to remind Mom of what she may have done for my sister.

“Guys,” Grace whined. “Do you have to keep mentioning my own bedwetting?”

“It’s just to help your sister out,” Dad said. “We learned a lot about how to handle it with you, so of course, we’re going to try some of the same things with your sister.”

“When your sister was around ten years old,” Mom said, “our pediatrician, Dr. Mathorn, recommended trying a pill that would make it so she wouldn’t wet the bed, and it worked quite well.”

Seriously? It was as though my parents were doing everything possible to avoid the solution that seemed most obvious to me. But why did it take so long to get Grace the solution that apparently solved all her problems?

“Why didn’t she have Grace take those pills earlier?”

“I think she said it wasn’t as effective with younger kids and that bedwetting was fairly normal for younger, elementary-age kids, so there wasn’t any need to be concerned about it. We had Grace take the pill whenever she wasn’t going to be at home. It was very effective, so long as she also made sure to limit fluid intake and use the toilet before bed.”

Grace groaned softly off to the side. Her hands were covering her face. Obviously, this wasn’t a memory she wanted to be forced to re-live in front of her younger sister.

Mom continued her explanation. “Even after her bedwetting phased out, we will had her take the pill for sleepovers for the next couple of years, just as an insurance measure. We still have some, so we figured we’d have you try them the next few nights. Assuming they work as well for you as they did for Grace, then you’ll be able to have the sleepover without any issues.

“You really kept those pills?” Grace asked incredulously.

“I mean, it wasn’t really intentional. We didn’t think it was likely you’d need them again. They just got tucked away at the back of the medicine cabinet and were forgotten about. It’s probably about time to take them tonight. I’m going to go grab them now.”

Mom left to get the pills. Dad excused himself to go off and get Jackson started on his own bedtime routine, leaving me alone with Grace for the moment.

My older sister still looked a little irked that Mom had kept her bedwetting medication long after that issue had stopped. For all the ways my parents had allowed my older sister to be independent, bedwetting hadn’t been one of them, not when she had also been forced to continue to sleep on the waterproof mattress until a couple of nights ago.

I turned to Grace. “Was there a reason you didn’t take the pills every night?”

“I never slept well, and I often had really bad headaches afterward for the next day. It made school impossible.”

“Is that supposed to make me want to take them?”

“I mean, they do work. I never wet the bed once after taking them. And a terrible headache in the morning beats being known as the girl who still wets the bed at school. But there wasn’t any way I was going to take them every night; that would have been way too much.”

“But, like, how does it work?”

“I’m trying to remember exactly how the doctor put it,” Grace said. “Basically, it makes it so your body doesn’t produce as much urine while you sleep so that your bladder doesn’t fill up so quickly and make you need to pee.”

This revelation about the bedwetting pills was another nail in the coffin to the idea that my older sister had ever worn pull-ups to manage her nighttime condition.

I was fairly certain at this point that Grace had never worn pull-ups at home, not with how frequently the laundry was being done when she had been a bedwetter. And the pills meant that she wouldn’t have needed a pull-up any time she had been sleeping overnight somewhere else after she had turned ten.

Still, if she had started using the pills around when she was ten, there would have been a time before that when her bedwetting would have to have been managed somehow when she wasn’t at home.

I tried to think back to the trips we had taken, but I would have been a baby for nearly all of them, so I didn’t have the slightest recollection of what would have happened with my sister’s bedwetting. Had pull-ups perhaps been used only for those occasions? Or had we picked places to stay that had given my parents the ability to do the necessary amount of extra laundry that would have been required?

I’d held off on asking further questions about my sister’s bedwetting because I hadn’t been able to think of a way to ask about pull-ups that would work. I couldn’t have her thinking that I was at all interested in wearing them. But this new revelation gave me an opening to ask a question that could lead to the same answer without revealing exactly what information I was seeking.

“So, like, what did you do on trips before you had the bedwetting pills?” I felt quite proud of myself for how sneakily discreet the question was. Without even mentioning pull-ups, there was the possibility that she could give an answer on the subject.

“Why does it matter?”

“I don’t know. I just realized that I’d never noticed you wet the bed before.”

Grace glared at me.

Before my sister could say anything further, Mom arrived and answered the question for her. “Oh, we used a special, disposable, absorbent bedwetting pad on top of the mattress.”

“Mom, did you have to tell her that?”

“What? We’ve already discussed other stuff from your bedwetting.”

“It sucked,” Grace said. “It was like sleeping on a massive puppy pee pad. It crinkled worse than my mattress. I could hardly sleep.”

“Well, it did at least keep the bed dry while we were at hotels or staying with relatives,” Mom said. “Though it would have been pretty wasteful to use it at home when we had the ability to just toss everything in the washing machine easily.”

I finally noticed that Mom was holding a glass with a couple of ounces of water in it.

“We should give the pill a try tonight. We need to know if it is going to work before we can OK the sleepover,” Mom said.

“Are you sure it is fine to use without talking to a doctor?” Grace asked.

“Of course not,” Mom said. “I gave Dr. Mathorn a call this morning, and she gave the OK to have Maddy try the pills this weekend, and depending on how that goes, we can figure out the next steps during her appointment on Monday.”

Mom had already signed me up to go to the doctor? My brain started to get fuzzy at the thought of being poked and prodded in an uncannily sterile room. “But… but…”

“Dr. Mathorn helped us a bunch with your sister’s bedwetting. It’s not as though she is unfamiliar with the topic.”

Mom handed me the pill and the glass of water. “I know you don’t like taking pills. But this one is nice and small, so let’s just get it over with.”

I recalled that if I had been an actual bedwetter, I would have been eager about this new solution. I forced what I thought was a natural happy face as I tucked the pill under my tongue and rinsed it down with a swig of water. This was going to be a major problem.

“And this is really important, Maddy,” Mom said. “Grace’s doctor was very clear that once the pill is taken right away before bed, you aren’t to have any liquids until the morning. He said that is necessary to avoid some other harmful side effects.”

That sucked. I had only gotten half of the way through my water bottle full of disgusting tap water tonight. And the way Mom had phrased this request made it clear that disobeying it would be unwise.

I assured Mom that I would avoid drinking any more water and excused myself to head back to my bedroom. I needed time to think through what I was supposed to do next.

There were a number of things that I wanted.

I wanted pull-ups to wear. I wanted to continue peeing myself. I wanted my parents to think I was a bedwetter. I wanted to have the sleepover with my friends. I wanted to keep the bedwetting a secret from them. I wanted Mom to think that the new bedwetting pills she was giving me were ineffective.

I couldn’t think of a path forward that would allow me to accomplish all of that. There was no way I could stop wetting the bed, even temporarily, not when that would convince Mom that the pills were the solution to that problem.

But if the bedwetting continued, there wasn’t any way Mom and Dad would sign off on a sleepover. Succeeding in convincing them that I was a bedwetter would only result in them stopping sleepovers unless I could somehow get them to consider pull-ups as a solution.

At least with the latest information about my sister’s bedwetting, I was able to understand how she had avoided being made to wear pull-ups. My parents had found a way to handle her nighttime condition in a way that mostly worked without needing disposable undergarments, though in my opinion a pull-up would have worked better than a disposable, absorbent sheet on top of a mattress.

Did they not know pull-ups were an option? Had Grace simply outright refused to wear them? Or perhaps they just considered it too expensive or wasteful compared to washing sheets every night?

But the exact reason didn’t really seem to matter. What seemed clear to me was that there was no way my parents were going to get me pull-ups of their own volition.

I realized now that unless something changed before the sleepover, I was going to need to do the unthinkable. I was going to have to directly ask my parents to purchase pull-ups for me.

<><><>

A few hours later, I found myself lying awake under the covers. I’d gotten better at staying up past my parents’ bedtime without feeling tired.

I had been trying to pee for the past thirty minutes, but it was no use. I didn’t have the slightest urge to urinate. That little pill had worked extremely well.

I should have at least felt a decent need to pee at this point, as I’d managed to drink half the bottle before Mom had instructed me very sternly to not have any more water.

It was so not fair. The only thing that cheered me up was that it shouldn’t take more than three or four days to convince Mom that these pills weren’t worth the effort. I set an early alarm on my phone, putting in a single earbud so that I’d be the only person to hear the alarm in the morning. No matter how good the pill was, I’d surely have a need to pee in another six hours.

I would let Mom wake me up to discover a wet bed again. And in a few days, with every other solution having failed, perhaps it would be possible to convince them that pull-ups were a palatable option.

---

Links to all my stories can be found at https://abdlwriter.wordpress.com/ 

[AnythingWillDo]

Whoa, that was an information explosion of a chapter!

The lengths that her parents went to to avoid having Grace use pull ups seems extreme. So I think the ‘sheet’ is their word for a pull up because Grace didn’t like them and would refer to them as something else(all the descriptions could apply to a pull up too).

I also have a theory on the ‘pill’. I think it’s a placebo. Grace would have been desperate for the pills to work and Maddy is desperate for pull ups that mention of a pill that could stop her could make her scared enough to believe it. 

Daytime accidents are going to help her convince her parents if the pill does keep preventing her from wetting the bed though. I do hope she doesn’t actually end up asking for them directly. 

[spark]

The parents strike me as one of those who will do anything to avoid going to d-word.  Sarah's mother would have put Maddy in diapers by now, but Maddy's parents aren't going for it.

[dl.spark1978]

My conspiracy theory revolves around Grace’s alleged bedwetting. I suspect Grace's bedwetting episodes were a façade driven by her desire to wear diapers, a desire she never dared to manifest through daytime accidents due to their parents' strict stance against such aids. Despite her efforts, the lack of tangible 'evidence' during the day led her to abandon her act. Enter Maddy, whose determination seems poised to eclipse Grace's, potentially escalating to daytime incidents and, perhaps, the occasional deliberate pants pooping. This scenario could reignite Grace, prompting her to resume her nocturnal episodes and perhaps escalate her tactics. This rivalry hints at deeper layers of sibling dynamics and personal struggles. The story has subtly laid the groundwork for this with nuanced interactions and Grace’s cryptic expressions of discontent. Should my theory hold, it could unravel a complex web of motivations, potentially leading to a pivotal confrontation or a profound bonding moment between the sisters, once the veil of deceit is lifted. Or, it’s just a wild speculation of mine 🤣

[erik_hamburg]

 

I really like the development of this story. From personal experience, I fully understand that the D-word is a big no-no that parents will try to avoid.

Maddy could be more pushy with the doctor, asking about all the options available. Pull-ups should be one of them. She will certainly need to avoid the pills. Headaches etc. seem to be a good way and easy to simulate. If I were her, I would also push much harder on how tired the wetting makes her. Getting up at night etc. She needs to work towards a solution that allows her to sleep through the night without making her sick.