dl.spark1978 Posted February 20 Posted February 20 Glad you're back! I've missed this story so much! I hope during your hiatus you were thinking about this story and mind mapping its future, so to speak. Can't wait to see what camp is like for Maddy & Hannah. I really hope they become genuine friends during this time.
Salsa Posted February 20 Posted February 20 So, I was harsh on the last couple chapters' lack of realism. While I still don't think this particular situation would ever, ever happen - I gotta give you props for depicting it in the most realistic way possible. Keeping things mostly in Maddy's head and dealing her anxieties is a great move. I'm glad this didn't go down the route of all these girls sitting around and showing off their different pull-ups and explaining how they started wetting and having a big wet pillow fight or whatever. 1
AnythingWillDo Posted February 20 Posted February 20 I know I speak for everyone when I say that I was overjoyed to see Chapter 42 be posted, might be the single most anticipated chapter on this forum. I am also happy to see it set up, what I think, will be a very eventful camp. I am glad we are at a place to focus on Hannah and Maddy. Obviously I think that they can become friends but the question will be how long will it take Maddy to figure out how similar the two really are. Hannah is who she is and I think Maddy can learn from that. Hopefully she doesn't mess up and upset Hannah but I think that may the best way for Maddy to realize that she can be a friend. On her quest for diapers, the ending of this chapter illustrates that she will do anything to try not only different types of pull-ups but reach the goal of diapers. However, she is still missing what that will mean. Switching to diapers at night might be pretty straight forward, but if she starts having accidents in the day there will be more consequences to that, that she won't think about. I always think its easier and more realistic for a character like Maddy to have day accident rather than night ones. Then there is her diagnosis and the treatment. Like, if she is given headphones like Hannah to focus. She is not at the same spectrum as Hannah but they both have issues with focusing and that could be an option for Maddy. Whether the meds play a role remains to be seen but how that changes her life might be the question to the ending of this story. Will she fess up to liking pull-ups? Will she end up going to school with Hannah? Will she be in diapers at the end of the story or will she stop wanting them? Is this a story where Maddy starts having real accidents or will she always be in control? Personally, I like happy endings. As of the story right now I am rooting for the following; She keeps her friends but Hannah joins the group and they become closer than her current friends, Maddy gets her diapers and equally thick pull-ups (like Chloe's) but wears them without shame and it is out in the open for friends and family, and finally she can talk about harry Potter whenever she wants! I can't wait for what's next, this is an all favorite for me! P.S. - Watch for her sister, Grace has a secret. Is it a misdirect or is it a sign she is more like Maddy than we know. 2
AB_DeLane Posted February 20 Author Posted February 20 19 hours ago, A_Pale_Spirit said: Welcome back! Great chapter! Thanks! 19 hours ago, BabySofia said: Nice to see you back! Looking forward to more! 🙂 Thanks, me too! 18 hours ago, spark said: Yeah, you're back. I don't think this is the longest delay you've had, but you always find a way to come back. Maddy is interesting character. Her age is younger than the characters you've written before, but her maturity is even younger than her biological age. I enjoy reading the story, but Maddy doesn't seem to know what she really wants. I have a sense that she wants to wear diapers, but for the same reason dogs chase cars. Based on how you are writing this, If she gets them, I'm not sure if she'll want them anymore. she just won't get out of her own head. Her friendship with Hannah is interesting. Based on her parents, I'm sure she knows that she is supposed to be nice to somebody like Hannah, and she is intrigued about her for selfish reasons. The two could make for a friendship, but she is still in that middle school mentality that prevents from being nice to somebody different. I can say (and I would't say it is a spoiler) but yes, Maddy will eventually get diapers. But in the meantime, we'll be getting a lot more into her relationship with Hannah in the next chapter. 6 hours ago, dl.spark1978 said: Glad you're back! I've missed this story so much! I hope during your hiatus you were thinking about this story and mind mapping its future, so to speak. Can't wait to see what camp is like for Maddy & Hannah. I really hope they become genuine friends during this time. Thanks! The next chapter will be focused a lot on their time together now that Maddy has gotten settled in (though not fully adjusted) to being in the bedwetting cabin. 3 hours ago, Salsa said: So, I was harsh on the last couple chapters' lack of realism. While I still don't think this particular situation would ever, ever happen - I gotta give you props for depicting it in the most realistic way possible. Keeping things mostly in Maddy's head and dealing her anxieties is a great move. I'm glad this didn't go down the route of all these girls sitting around and showing off their different pull-ups and explaining how they started wetting and having a big wet pillow fight or whatever. Yeah, that type of scenario would be out there (though also in line with a lot of other ABDL fiction, especially older stories). I do like to take ABDL tropes and subvert expectations with them. And like I've mentioned earlier, the main point was to find a scenario in which Hannah and Maddy are alone together (at least in the sense of being away from all their normal friends/family) with Maddy's bedwetting out in the open. That said, keeping track of all the new character's names and their info was a bit painful, especially with coming back to this part in the story after having some time off. I'm pretty hopeful that there aren't any continuity issues. 2 hours ago, AnythingWillDo said: I know I speak for everyone when I say that I was overjoyed to see Chapter 42 be posted, might be the single most anticipated chapter on this forum. I am also happy to see it set up, what I think, will be a very eventful camp. I am glad we are at a place to focus on Hannah and Maddy. Obviously I think that they can become friends but the question will be how long will it take Maddy to figure out how similar the two really are. Hannah is who she is and I think Maddy can learn from that. Hopefully she doesn't mess up and upset Hannah but I think that may the best way for Maddy to realize that she can be a friend. On her quest for diapers, the ending of this chapter illustrates that she will do anything to try not only different types of pull-ups but reach the goal of diapers. However, she is still missing what that will mean. Switching to diapers at night might be pretty straight forward, but if she starts having accidents in the day there will be more consequences to that, that she won't think about. I always think its easier and more realistic for a character like Maddy to have day accident rather than night ones. Then there is her diagnosis and the treatment. Like, if she is given headphones like Hannah to focus. She is not at the same spectrum as Hannah but they both have issues with focusing and that could be an option for Maddy. Whether the meds play a role remains to be seen but how that changes her life might be the question to the ending of this story. Will she fess up to liking pull-ups? Will she end up going to school with Hannah? Will she be in diapers at the end of the story or will she stop wanting them? Is this a story where Maddy starts having real accidents or will she always be in control? Personally, I like happy endings. As of the story right now I am rooting for the following; She keeps her friends but Hannah joins the group and they become closer than her current friends, Maddy gets her diapers and equally thick pull-ups (like Chloe's) but wears them without shame and it is out in the open for friends and family, and finally she can talk about harry Potter whenever she wants! I can't wait for what's next, this is an all favorite for me! P.S. - Watch for her sister, Grace has a secret. Is it a misdirect or is it a sign she is more like Maddy than we know. Those are lots of really good quesitons. Those are things I've considered with the outline, but there shall be no spoilers. I'll just say that we've got a lot of good stuff coming post-camp. 4
DiaperStoriesFan Posted February 20 Posted February 20 Good to see that you are back! I might have checked this thread slightly too often the last few weeks. And great chapter btw!
erik_hamburg Posted February 21 Posted February 21 Greate to see you back. This is a really nice chapter, and I really like that you connect Maddy and Hannah. Would be interesting to understand why Maddy doesn’t like Hannah. I’m also looking forward to see the relationship between Maddie and the other girls and Cabin B develop.
spark Posted February 21 Posted February 21 22 hours ago, Salsa said: So, I was harsh on the last couple chapters' lack of realism. While I still don't think this particular situation would ever, ever happen - I gotta give you props for depicting it in the most realistic way possible. Keeping things mostly in Maddy's head and dealing her anxieties is a great move. I'm glad this didn't go down the route of all these girls sitting around and showing off their different pull-ups and explaining how they started wetting and having a big wet pillow fight or whatever. I thought about lack of realism in stories, and realized it's not just true in diaper fiction. Pretty much all fiction ends up with some jumps, and sometimes it's too much for me. For example, a certain 2022 movie about a fighter pilot is a sequel to another movie from 1986. Every thing about 2022 movie is unrealistic, and yet almost everybody I talk with thinks it was good movie and get upset when I mention that Maverick would be near 60 and not still flying fighters, especially given the history of defying orders. I'm not a military man, but I believe defying orders in the Air Force is a really bad thing. I can definitely relate to realism of a 12-year-old wanted to wear diapers. It's something that I have first-hand knowledge, but the twelve-year-old that I knew best waited until he was 24 to buy his first pair of Goodnites, and then gradually started to get more comfortable buying and using adult diapers 24/7. Maddy wanting diapers is realistic. I never took that second step and purposely wet my bed, but I love stories that do. How realistic is Hannah still needing diapers past ten? Yes, they are kids who struggle with bladder control at that age, but it is very unusual for somebody as high-functioning as Hannah to have so little awareness. But if I ran into a child like Hannah when I was twelve, I would have had the same triggers that Maddy has. That might have been enough to get me start having accidents. 1
AB_DeLane Posted February 22 Author Posted February 22 5 hours ago, DiaperStoriesFan said: Good to see that you are back! I might have checked this thread slightly too often the last few weeks. And great chapter btw! Thanks! Yes, that is the curse of showing when you are online. Just now, erik_hamburg said: Greate to see you back. This is a really nice chapter, and I really like that you connect Maddy and Hannah. Would be interesting to understand why Maddy doesn’t like Hannah. I’m also looking forward to see the relationship between Maddie and the other girls and Cabin B develop. Thanks, and we will at some point get more clarity on why Maddy dislikes Hannah. There's a lot going on that I've tried to be intentional with. Just now, spark said: How realistic is Hannah still needing diapers past ten? Yes, they are kids who struggle with bladder control at that age, but it is very unusual for somebody as high-functioning as Hannah to have so little awareness. But if I ran into a child like Hannah when I was twelve, I would have had the same triggers that Maddy has. That might have been enough to get me start having accidents. I think Hannah needing diapers isn't all that unrealistic. My understanding is that individuals on the autism spectrum are more likely to experience incontinence (not to say that all or most do, just that there is an increased likelyhood, especially with interoception issues). Just now, diaperboymi said: Welcome back and thanks for this Wonderful update😊 Thanks!
spark Posted February 22 Posted February 22 7 hours ago, AB_DeLane said: I think Hannah needing diapers isn't all that unrealistic. I guess it depends on Hannah's functional, and how rare does it need to be to be considered unrealistic. Autistic kids are notoriously slow at becoming potty trained, but they're typically potty trained between 5 and 7. By 3rd grade, all but the outliers are functionally toiet-trained, with few still requiring reminders. By the time a child gets to 10 or 11 year old, all but the extreme cases of higher functioning students would be manage toileting on their own (either through protection that is self-regulated, or mild adult support. Maybe if Hannah's level was closer to level 2, and she had some underlying issues, I could see it, but it would be a under a 1 in 100 case. I was thinking Hannah was closer to twelve, and each progressively less likely With that being said, I know for a fact that there are students at my high school who use bladder protection. I know that there students in the most severe class who need diapers, and there are students in the life skills class that require adult assistance to use the bathroom. i don't know of any in that class who wear diaper, but I wouldn't know if they did. We have 3k students in our school, and we know that at least 2% of the public has incontinence issues. That means there are likely 60 kids at our school who either wet their bed frequently and some of those have issues during the day. FTR- that more than are in both of those mod classes combined, so it's not just those kids. I wouldn't be shocked to hear that at least one student in the general population who wears a diaper to school. In fact, I would suprised if that wasn't the case. FTR- I can say with 100% certainty that at least one member of the faculty wears a diaper school, and nobody else knows about it. If we know that at least one of the 200+ adults on campus wears a diaper every single day, it's hard to imagine that there wouldn't be a single student at the school who wears one.
Night Rain Posted February 22 Posted February 22 Is there a chance for Maddy to become friends with some of the other girls at camp?
ARNB19 Posted February 23 Posted February 23 Happy to see this back up and running. Never been so invested in a story 😂
Little Sherri Posted February 23 Posted February 23 Welcome back! It was worth the wait - I'm glad to see this story continuing. I am very familiar with the ebbs and flows of real life interfering with artistic intentions, and the production of quality work has to occur on its own schedule, you can't rush it, the story is the boss.
DL64 Posted March 6 Posted March 6 It's been two weeks since the story restart chapter, will we get a new one soon??? or will there be more waiting time for the sequel???
AriannaBarbie Posted March 9 Posted March 9 It would be interesting to see if Maddy gets sent to the same special needs school as Hannah.
Salsa Posted March 9 Posted March 9 4 minutes ago, AriannaBarbie said: It would be interesting to see if Maddy gets sent to the same special needs school as Hannah. Hannah's going to a different school because her special needs are more than the school can handle which means it's probably more severe than the few manageable things we've seen of her. Maddy has ADHD. Like half of all kids in public school have ADHD and plenty of parents don't do anything about it. Some aren't even on meds or in therapy. There's no way Maddy has to go to a different school unless her next step is to pretend to be fully incontinent.... which.... I mean she might. And Hannah does seem high functioning enough to read Harry Potter and play soccer and otherwise seem fairly normal besides her bathroom issues. There is a chance the main school literally just doesn't have resources to change diapers, but I think if she's being sent to a sleepaway camp Hannah can probably figure that out on her own. 1
spark Posted March 9 Posted March 9 3 minutes ago, Salsa said: Hannah's going to a different school because her special needs are more than the school can handle which means it's probably more severe than the few manageable things we've seen of her. Maddy has ADHD. Like half of all kids in public school have ADHD and plenty of parents don't do anything about it. Some aren't even on meds or in therapy. There's no way Maddy has to go to a different school unless her next step is to pretend to be fully incontinent.... which.... I mean she might. And Hannah does seem high functioning enough to read Harry Potter and play soccer and otherwise seem fairly normal besides her bathroom issues. There is a chance the main school literally just doesn't have resources to change diapers, but I think if she's being sent to a sleepaway camp Hannah can probably figure that out on her own. This is a topic that I can speak on at an expert level. Hannah is a weird case. Her situation seems severe, but she has some high-functioning areas. Not only does she read Harry Potter, but she's like Messi on the soccer pitch. I can see a case where a kid read a high-interest novel but can't add 2+2 and can't complete an application. There is no district that I know of that would ever send a child like Hannah to an NPS (non-public school) unless her behaviors were so intensive that they required it. Maybe it's a different school than her home school, which would appear like a special school to Maddy, but it's a regular school. It's the law- if it's a problem, and it's in the IEP, we've got deal with it. Maddy has not been qualified yet, but I would guess she would if assessed. She would be in mild/moderate class. As a mild/moderate teacher, after 8th grade, our mission is to gently persuade our students to GTFU, while not letting them FTMU (FTR- the U stands for up, and F is what you think it is). 2
zzzz50 Posted March 9 Posted March 9 10 hours ago, spark said: This is a topic that I can speak on at an expert level. Hannah is a weird case. Her situation seems severe, but she has some high-functioning areas. Not only does she read Harry Potter, but she's like Messi on the soccer pitch. I can see a case where a kid read a high-interest novel but can't add 2+2 and can't complete an application. There is no district that I know of that would ever send a child like Hannah to an NPS (non-public school) unless her behaviors were so intensive that they required it. Maybe it's a different school than her home school, which would appear like a special school to Maddy, but it's a regular school. It's the law- if it's a problem, and it's in the IEP, we've got deal with it. Maddy has not been qualified yet, but I would guess she would if assessed. She would be in mild/moderate class. As a mild/moderate teacher, after 8th grade, our mission is to gently persuade our students to GTFU, while not letting them FTMU (FTR- the U stands for up, and F is what you think it is). Spark, would a physical manifestation like bedwetting or incontinence factor into the IEP, especially with it starting around the time of diagnosis like Maddy? I realize that it is probably infrequent however I know ADHD has a correlation with bedwetting, just wondering if this is ever brought in as background or confirmation of a diagnosis. It will be interesting if Maddy is digging a bigger hole than she expected for her plan to get into diapers.
spark Posted March 9 Posted March 9 2 hours ago, zzzz50 said: Spark, would a physical manifestation like bedwetting or incontinence factor into the IEP, especially with it starting around the time of diagnosis like Maddy? I realize that it is probably infrequent however I know ADHD has a correlation with bedwetting, just wondering if this is ever brought in as background or confirmation of a diagnosis. It will be interesting if Maddy is digging a bigger hole than she expected for her plan to get into diapers. No. It wouldn't come up. When psychologists initially assess students, they ask parents about meeting milestones such as talking, walking, and toileting, but there isn't a lot of detail. After 7th grade, I don't recall them going into milestones like that. I don't think she fully understands what she is in for once she achieves her goal 1
WBDaddy Posted March 12 Posted March 12 On 2/22/2025 at 4:01 AM, spark said: I guess it depends on Hannah's functional, and how rare does it need to be to be considered unrealistic. Autistic kids are notoriously slow at becoming potty trained, but they're typically potty trained between 5 and 7. By 3rd grade, all but the outliers are functionally toiet-trained, with few still requiring reminders. By the time a child gets to 10 or 11 year old, all but the extreme cases of higher functioning students would be manage toileting on their own (either through protection that is self-regulated, or mild adult support. Maybe if Hannah's level was closer to level 2, and she had some underlying issues, I could see it, but it would be a under a 1 in 100 case. I was thinking Hannah was closer to twelve, and each progressively less likely With that being said, I know for a fact that there are students at my high school who use bladder protection. I know that there students in the most severe class who need diapers, and there are students in the life skills class that require adult assistance to use the bathroom. i don't know of any in that class who wear diaper, but I wouldn't know if they did. We have 3k students in our school, and we know that at least 2% of the public has incontinence issues. That means there are likely 60 kids at our school who either wet their bed frequently and some of those have issues during the day. FTR- that more than are in both of those mod classes combined, so it's not just those kids. I wouldn't be shocked to hear that at least one student in the general population who wears a diaper to school. In fact, I would suprised if that wasn't the case. FTR- I can say with 100% certainty that at least one member of the faculty wears a diaper school, and nobody else knows about it. If we know that at least one of the 200+ adults on campus wears a diaper every single day, it's hard to imagine that there wouldn't be a single student at the school who wears one. I mean, if we're going with autism, my wife can tell you all sorts of stories about autistic kids who are still in diapers in teen years, but she worked for the state dealing with developmentally delayed patients who needed intense services. Those kids weren't going to high school. Or any other school. They were on the far end of that spectrum, nearly non-functional. She told me once about a kid that was taller than her and very stocky, a real bruiser, and his mom was at her wits' end because every time he'd drop a load in his diaper, he'd reach back and grab a handful and smear it all over the wall. Kid could have killed his mom if he'd gotten a mind to, he was that strong, and how do you handle that? How do you correct that behavior? TL;DR, I guess lots of people around here have had (unfortunately posted in other parts of the board) fantasies about faking mental illness to get to wear diapers all the time, but fantasizing about making a mockery of people who are that far from being able to function in society is a sickness all its own, I think. 1
spark Posted March 12 Posted March 12 5 minutes ago, WBDaddy said: I mean, if we're going with autism, my wife can tell you all sorts of stories about autistic kids who are still in diapers in teen years, but she worked for the state dealing with developmentally delayed patients who needed intense services. Those kids weren't going to high school. Or any other school. They were on the far end of that spectrum, nearly non-functional. She told me once about a kid that was taller than her and very stocky, a real bruiser, and his mom was at her wits' end because every time he'd drop a load in his diaper, he'd reach back and grab a handful and smear it all over the wall. Kid could have killed his mom if he'd gotten a mind to, he was that strong, and how do you handle that? How do you correct that behavior? TL;DR, I guess lots of people around here have had (unfortunately posted in other parts of the board) fantasies about faking mental illness to get to wear diapers all the time, but fantasizing about making a mockery of people who are that far from being able to function in society is a sickness all its own, I think. We have a severe class at our school, and I know most of the students (like 10 students) and some of those students are in diapers. The kids in that class are not able to communicate at a significant level, which sounds like the level that your wife is in. Behavior is communication, so smearing poop is the kid trying to communicate. PS- that's why I don't teach in that class. We have life skills, and these kids don't get a diploma. These are kid's with down's syndrome, and functioning closer to elementary school (very nice kids). Most, if not all, use the bathroom without prompting. I heard the teacher (she's my neighbor) say that one of her students' mother still wipes him, but as far as I know- that is not an issue in her class. It's hard to gauge Hannah's functioning level from the story, but based on the narration- she seems to be mild/moderate rather than M/S. At that point, they are functioning and navigating the campus independently. I have a colleague who taught M/M at an upper elementary. She shared that she had a student who wore Pull-ups, but could independently change them when necessary. I've personally never dealt with this in my career, but I know that we would be responsible if a child wasn't able to independently use the toilet. With that being said, there are about a combined 3000 adults and students at my high school. I can say with 100% accuracy that at least one of them wears a diaper to school, and as AFAIK- nobody else knows. There is a non-zero chance that there is another person in diapers at the school that isn't part of the M/S program, and there might be ten people in diapers. On a given day, there are about 9 or 10 students on crutches 1
WBDaddy Posted March 12 Posted March 12 29 minutes ago, spark said: With that being said, there are about a combined 3000 adults and students at my high school. I can say with 100% accuracy that at least one of them wears a diaper to school, and as AFAIK- nobody else knows. There is a non-zero chance that there is another person in diapers at the school that isn't part of the M/S program, and there might be ten people in diapers. (I know what you're driving at with that repetitive "at least one of them" thing, but that's cool) I'm just saying that the only likely reason for a mildly autistic kid such as the one in this story would be in diapers (not pull-ups during the day and diapers at night as is described) would be if the parent were some sort of hardcore about accidents and trying to shame them about it (such as my mother did to perfectly normal pre-K kids when she was doing daycare as a business out of our home, though that was the 80's and a very different time when it came to child psychology, not that it would have mattered much to her if it wasn't, other than the threat of authorities getting involved. She was nothing if not exceptional about walking that line) 1
spark Posted March 12 Posted March 12 5 minutes ago, WBDaddy said: (I know what you're driving at with that repetitive "at least one of them" thing, but that's cool) I'm just saying that the only likely reason for a mildly autistic kid such as the one in this story would be in diapers (not pull-ups during the day and diapers at night as is described) would be if the parent were some sort of hardcore about accidents and trying to shame them about it (such as my mother did to perfectly normal pre-K kids when she was doing daycare as a business out of our home, though that was the 80's and a very different time when it came to child psychology, not that it would have mattered much to her if it wasn't, other than the threat of authorities getting involved. She was nothing if not exceptional about walking that line) I can't remember where I said that line, but i think it's a good line. The fact is: there is a very good chance that some students at my school wear a diaper. In fact, I would say its highly unlikely that there are zero students (excluding M/S) who have protection for bladder problems at my school. However, nobody would know because they manage it so well. It's the same reason nobody know that I'm wearing a diaper. Just based on the way she is described, Hannah would be in an M/M SDC (apologies for the acronyms). SDC is self-contained, so 100% of the class peers have an IEP Another thing to note is the difference in attitude between K-6 and 7-12 SPED teachers. K-6 Sped teachers are usually maternal (I call them mother-hens). BTW- a lot of parents have the same attitude. By 8th grade, we realize there is a deadline quickly approaching, and they need to be independent by the end. 1
AB_DeLane Posted March 31 Author Posted March 31 And we are back with a new chapter. A little longer of a wait than I intended, but the chapter is also rather a bit longer than intended. Chapter 43: Promises It was still dark outside when I woke up the first time, cutting my dream in half. The details of the dream that had been interrupted were a bit fuzzy in my head. I felt like it had been something to do with trying and failing to hide my nighttime pull-ups from my little brother Jackson, the only member of my family still oblivious to my bedwetting situation. I blinked a few times as the realization that I wasn’t home hit me. I was at camp. In a cabin. With a bunch of bedwetters. And Hannah. A couple minutes passed as my eyes gradually acclimated to the darkness, calmed by the fact that the present situation was at least better than the nightmare I had been in the midst of a few moments ago. Not that it was a particularly high bar to clear. My attention was redirected to the other side of the room by a creak from a floorboard. I couldn’t make out who it was in the dark, but I could make out the silhouette of someone on the opposite side of the room who wasn’t being stealthy enough as they rummaged through a suitcase on the floor before tip-toeing toward the bathroom. I craned my neck as I watched them go down the hallway; the light that flickered on from the bathroom showed me that it was Lily with a white pull-up clenched in her hand. I pretended to be asleep when the bathroom door opened again and a flicker of light appeared from it before Lily flipped the switch off. But pretending to sleep swiftly changed into actually sleeping. It was past sunrise by the time my eyes opened up once again. I had shifted out from underneath the blanket in my sleep, and my shorts had slid down enough that the waistband of my pull-up was visible. I grabbed the blanket and pulled it back over myself before surveying the room. Half the bunks were already empty. Lily, Hailey, and Hannah also remained in bed, but they showered last night, so there wasn’t any rush to get ready for the day. Amy, the cabin counselor was already up and dressed. She was laying down on her bed flipping through some papers on a clipboard, going through what looked like a schedule for the day. Isabella had also finished getting ready for the day; she was beside her bed organizing some soccer equipment into a smaller drawstring bag. While a dry pull-up or diaper might not be as noticeable underneath pajamas, I discovered, to my chagrin, that a fully wet one was rather obvious, at least in the case of Hailey, who I watched carefully as she got out of bed, grabbed some clothes, and made their way out the bathroom. The pull-up wasn’t directly visible, but from the way her pants sagged down, it was clear she hadn’t come close to staying dry last night. I winced. The way my older sister Grace had figured out I had a wet pull-up beneath my pajamas that one time suddenly made more sense. Had It really been that obvious the morning after the sleepover? I slid my hand beneath my shorts to inspect my own pull-up. It was only a little full, all from when I had wet it before falling asleep last night. I reassured myself that it wouldn’t be nearly as noticeable as Hailey’s. I did need to pee. Now, it wasn’t nearly so bad that I needed to rush off to the bathroom, but it was enough that I knew better than to risk wetting the pull-up for a second time, which would probably result in it leaking out over the bed. That had been one of my considerations when I had been contemplating how I could get my hands on another type of pull-up or diaper. I had thought about wetting my pull-up so much that it leaked, and then using that as an excuse to borrow some of the better protection options from the other girls. It hadn’t taken me long to soundly reject that plan. For one, I wasn’t sure if I could endure that level of humiliation. Secondly, there wasn’t any guarantee that there would be any extra pull-ups that would fit me. Amy glanced up from her clipboard as Olivia and Maya returned from the bathroom, before turning her eyes in my direction. “You need to hurry up, Maddy. You’re the last one, and there should be a shower open now.” I tugged my shirt down and slid out of the bed. There weren’t many times where I was happy to get out of a pull-up, but this was one of them. It would be a welcome relief to not be worrying about if anyone could see what I was wearing beneath my shorts. As I gathered some clothes for the day and grabbed a washcloth, shampoo, and a pair of flip-flips, I tried to focus on what Chloe had said to me the night before, that feeling embarrassed was perfectly OK. The problem was that the source of my discomfort was the exact opposite of the obvious assumptions Chloe was making. Or was it? If I had been an actual, real bedwetter, would I have still been as uncomfortable, or would I have been so at peace with that situation as to be able to walk around like she did with her pull-up fully exposed? Everyone was too wrapped up in what they were doing to pay any attention me as I made my way over to the bathroom, quickly using the toilet before slipping into the shower stall with a quiet sigh of relief as I admitted that this whole situation would have been much easier to handle as a regular bedwetter rather than someone pretending to be one. The shower was partitioned into two sections. Behind the first curtain was a small changing area with a few hooks on the wall to hang a towel and a wood bench where I could set my clean clothes. That was separated from the tiny shower stall with another curtain. It took several minutes of twisting the hot and cold knobs back and forth to get the water to an acceptable temperature. I looked down uneasily at the plastic shower flooring, grateful that Mom had insisted on having me pack flip-flops. I wasn’t all that keen on the idea of stepping onto it with bare feet. Once I was finished showering I ran into another problem as I looked down at the pile of pajamas still on the bench. I hadn’t thought through how I was going to dispose of the wet pull-up without anyone noticing. If I had been thinking properly, I would have tossed it in the small garbage can in the toilet stall. My only option was the trash can at the far end of the bathroom, which meant having to walk all the way past the sinks. I shifted the wet pull-up to my left hand so that my body could somewhat naturally shield it from view as I walked by everyone to my right by the sink. I kept my eyes laser-focused on the garbage bin. I didn’t glance over at the mirror. I didn’t want to know if the girls at the sink were reacting in any way to what I was doing, though out of the corner of my eye, I could tell that it was Chloe and Hannah who were in the middle of brushing their teeth and hair, respectively. I took a peak inside the garbage bin as I deposited the pull-up. The only thing that made me feel better was that there were already several pull-ups and what must have been Hannah’s used diaper at the bottom of the otherwise mostly empty garbage bin. Well, that was over with, at least. I turned to glance back toward Hannah, who was still busy with a brush, trying to get a few tangles out of her hair. My face burned with second-hand embarrassment at the sight of the purple waistband of her pull-up sticking up an inch over her shorts. She must not have tied her waistband snugly enough. She was completely hopeless. I returned to my bed, which I made by haphazardly tossing the sheets and blanket on top before pulling out my phone to enjoy what I suspected were my last few Hannah free moments of the morning. I was midway through responding to a text from Mom when I overheard a conversation between Chloe and Maya behind me. “You won’t believe what I saw in the bathroom,” Maya said. “Hannah is actually wearing a pull-up still. I honestly thought it was some sort of weird joke that she wore them during the day. What’s wrong with her?” “Maya,” Chloe said. “You literally piss your pants every single night. I don’t exactly think you are in any position to be judging someone about having accidents.” Maya rolled her eyes. “Whatever, you know what I meant.” I had hoped that Hannah would at least be discreet with her pull-up during the day. It was one thing with a diaper, which was basically impossible to hide, but there wasn’t any excuse for letting a pull-up show. --- When I stepped outside the cabin behind Hannah, there was already a steady stream of campers making their way to the cafeteria. Once everyone had gotten dressed, Amy had given us a rundown of the schedule for the day. We’d have some practice sessions based on what positions we played, followed by some with our actually teams for the week. Outside of that, there would be some non-soccer activities organized by cabins. My stomach grumbled as I tried to keep up with Hannah. Even though I would normally skip breakfast most mornings, I was feeling quite ravenous today. Surely, breakfast would be better than the disaster that had been dinner last night. Breakfast was pretty hard to mess up. Hannah was dressed like normal with yet another Harry Potter themed shirt and a drawstring bag that I assumed contained extra pull-ups to change into. The problem with the bag was that it was causing the back of Hannah’s shirt to roll up slightly, which, when combined with the fact that Hannah’s shorts had slid down an inch again, meant that the waistband of her pull-up was showing. “Hannah, wait up,” I yelled. But, of course, she didn’t seem to hear me. I still didn’t really get why she needed to wear those stupid noise-reducing ear-muffs. The only time the earmuffs came off was when Hannah was sleeping or when she was going out onto the soccer field. That would be too much of a safety hazard. I wouldn’t have wanted to try a header with those on. I quickened my pace and finally caught up to Hannah a few seconds later, quickly reaching out to grab her shirt and give it a tug down. Hannah paused and swatted away my hand as she turned around. “Don’t,” she said in a whiney tone. I managed to hold back my irritation at her response. “Your underwear was showing,” I said. Hannah just stared at me with a look of confusion on her face. “But I’m not wearing…” I glanced around. There were too many campers walking nearby. At least no one seemed to be looking directly at us. I leaned in closer to Hannah. “I mean, your pull-up was showing,” I said in as soft of a whisper as I could manage. Hannah tugged up her shorts. Now that she was facing me, I could see that her drawstrings had come undone. “Just tie your shorts,” I said, trying not to let my exasperation show. “Then you won’t have to keep worrying about them falling down.” Hannah fumbled at the drawstrings for about ten seconds before giving up. “I’m not very good at tying knots.” I was inclined to believe that statement. After all, both her regular shoes and soccer cleats had Velcro clasps in lieu of laces. My initial annoyance at her request turned to relief with the realization that this was exactly what my plan was needing. I needed to Hannah to think I was her friend if I wanted to get her to keep my pull-ups a secret. “I can do it for you.” I reached down and cinched both of the drawings before tying a double knot to keep her shorts securely in place. I tried not to think about what everyone else would be thinking if they were watching me tie Hannah’s shorts. I tried even harder not to think about how awkward it would be if Hannah’s pull-ups were showing at all during the practice sessions after breakfast. With the shorts in place, Hannah dashed off again toward the cafeteria without so much as a thank-you. I let out a long sigh as I slowly walked behind her. Best friend? More like babysitter. --- To my chagrin, I learned several minutes later that it was, in fact, incredibly easy for a cafeteria to mess up breakfast. On my plate were a few rubbery pancakes, an unpeeled orange, and some yellow gunk that was allegedly scrambled eggs. The only normal thing was a small plastic cup of yogurt, which had the benefit of at least being pre-packaged. For her part, Hannah had barely touched any of her breakfast. Instead, she stared down at her phone, which she had set on the table next to her tray, casually swiping down on what appeared to be a never-ending block of text. I was kind of curious about what she read if it wasn’t the Harry Potter series. “What are you reading?” “It’s a fic about what would happen if Harry got sorted into Slytherin.” I stared at her dumbfounded for a few moments, attempting to processes what she was saying, recalling that Hannah had mentioned reading fan-made Harry Potter stories before. “This is one of my favorite ones,” Hannah continued as she swiped down on her phone to scroll through what looked like a massive wall of text without pausing to look up at me. “Harry and Malfoy are dating.” I spat out a mouthful of yogurt all across my plate, earning more than a few glances from other campers. “What? The? Heck?” Hannah provided me with enough of an explanation that I understood why the parental controls my dad had set up would have blocked the particular fan fiction site she was on. Hannah went back to reading as if I hadn’t said anything at all. At least this kept her quiet, or, to be more accurate, it prevented her from talking my ears off. I instead had to contend with her smacking lips as she chewed loudly with her mouth open like she was attempting to mouth the words to herself as she was reading. I managed enough bites of breakfast to sustain myself through a morning of practice but didn’t take a single bite beyond that. Thankfully, our schedule didn’t allow much time for breakfast. Hannah tagged along behind me as we returned our trays with half-eaten breakfasts. “Don’t leave without me,” Hannah yelled back to me as she darted off toward the bathroom while we were walking to the exit from the cafeteria. I leaned back against the wall as other campers streamed out past me, resigned to the fact that I’d be waiting like his on Hannah all week long. I felt a twinge in my bladder. I had just used the toilet a short while ago before showering. May as well go now since I was waiting for Hannah either way. It turned out that I didn’t need to pee that much. I was in and out of the toilet stall quickly. It was only when I was washing my hands that I realized Hannah hadn’t finished doing her business. “Maddy!” I turned around. Hannah’s head was peeking out of the stall. I grabbed a couple of paper towels to dry off my hands, getting a quizzical look from the girl who had been standing next to me at the counter before heading over to the toilet stall where Hannah was. Probably just needed me to tie her shorts again. At the rate this was going, I hoped I wasn’t going to be changing her diapers by the end of the week. “You tied it too tight. I can’t get my shorts off,” Maddy said, not bothering to keep her voice down. There was a poorly disguised snicker from the other girl at the sink. I bit my lip. Six more days. I just had to get through that, and everything would be better again. Just six more days. “Here, I can help.” I pushed the door to the stall open slightly further and looked down at Hannah’s shorts. In my haste to get them tied on the way to the cafeteria, I had double-knotted them extremely tight. My fingers fumbled around with the drawstrings on Hannah’s shorts for more than a few seconds before getting them loose. It was harder to do it from a different angle, and my tighter-than-normal knot didn’t do me any favors. I got the knot undone, but I went too far in loosening her shorts. Hannah’s shorts slid six inches down her legs. Not much. But also more than enough to reveal the pull-up that Hannah had wet after being stymied by the double-knot. “Oh my god, for real?” The girl at the sink was now staring at us, a couple of crumpled-up paper towels in her hands. Hannah tugged her shorts up as I pulled the stall door shut, but the damage was already done. The girl at the sink didn’t say anything else. She just stood in place, gawking at us, one hand held over her mouth. My face burned as red as my hair. The only thing more humiliating than this would have been if I had been caught wearing pull-ups myself. She finally dashed out of the bathroom, dropping the wet paper towels in her hand onto the floor. I took a few steps away from the stall to give Hannah some privacy. A few seconds later, I heard a faint trickling in the toilet bowl. I shifted my feet impatiently. It was already enough of a delay to stop and use the restroom. I didn’t want to be late for practice. But a minute passed, and Hannah was still inside the bathroom stall. I knew from experience that changing a pull-up didn’t take long. With the bathroom still empty of any other campers, I approached the stall and lightly tapped on the door. “Hannah, we need to go now. We’re going to be late for practice.” “Go away, I’m not going.” “But Hannah…” “Go! Away!” I flinched as Hannah yelled out from the other side of the bathroom stall, and then was drawn closer by the ensuing sound of muffled sobbing. I stepped closer to the stall door once again. “Everything is going to be OK.” I had no idea how I was going to make this better. All I knew was that abandoning Hannah here would mean abandoning any hopes of coercing her into keeping my secrets. “You promise?” Hannah asked quietly. “Yes, yes, I promise. Now, will you come out and wash your hands?” Hannah opened the stall door slightly. Her shorts were back on with a single knot, but they looked secure enough this time around. Hannah held out her hand with one small finger extended toward me. “Pinkie promise?” I fought the urge to roll my eyes. I clasped my pinkie finger around her. Whatever would make her happy. “I promise,” I said. A smile spread across Hannah’s face. “Friends don’t break promises.” “Of course. Now, let’s go.” Hannah inched forward, then leaned back. “I can’t.” “Of course you can.” “But she saw my pull-up.” That was going to be a problem. Or would it? Hannah would have been done for if her shorts had dropped like that in the middle of a soccer match. But with just one witness, was as much at stake? “No one else saw besides her,” I said. “If she says anything, we can just say she is lying. I mean, who is going to believe that someone your age is still wearing pull-ups?” Hannah’s eyes turned down toward her feet. I rolled my own eyes. What had I done now? “OK, so can we go? I don’t want to be any more late.” Hannah mumbled something incoherent and took another step inside the stall. “I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.” “Of course you can. Your shorts are tied right. Your pull-up will stay hidden.” Hannah still didn’t move. My irritation got the better of me. “What’s wrong?” I snapped. Hannah wiped the back of her hand against one of her eyes before replying. “No one else my age wears pull-ups during the day.” I guess that out of the millions of girls in the country, her statement wasn’t technically true. But providing that information wasn’t going to be a solution. This was a disaster. And it was all my fault. If I hadn’t helped tie Hannah’s shorts so tight, she wouldn’t have gotten into this predicament. I had a stupid idea. No, that was putting it mildly. It was downright reckless. But one more glance at Hannah’s distraught face made me fear losing any chance of building a friendship that simply had to exist by the end of the week. How far was I willing to go to earn her silence? “Here,” I said. “I’ll wear a pull-up during the day, too, so you don’t have to be alone.” I looked at her bag. “You have extras, right?” The next few seconds felt as though they were being strung out for hours as I waited breathlessly for her response. If this gambit didn’t work, what would? “OK.” Hannah handed me her bag. “One more thing,” I said. “I’ll wear the pull-ups for you, but you have to promise not to tell anyone that I’m doing it. Pinkie promise.” Our fingers locked again. There. A simple test. Could Hannah be trusted to keep a secret for a week when the stakes were far lower than what awaited me back home? I ushered her out of the stall to go wash her hands as I stepped inside, beginning to contemplate the repercussions of this offer. I tried to reassure myself that it wasn’t a bad idea. Hannah was the only person I knew at camp. If, somehow, my secret did get out, would it actually matter? It wasn’t like I was ever going to see anyone here again. I had never considered wearing pull-ups anywhere other than the privacy of my own home. Sure, there was the standard fear of discovery, but it was also such a private act that there was somehow a wrongness to doing it in public, no matter how hidden the pull-up might be. I told myself that I was just doing it as part of the deal to win over Hannah’s friendship. That my shaking hands were only because of the fear of what might happen should other campers discover what I was doing. That there weren’t other factors guiding this decision. I opened Hannah’s bag and pulled out the single object I had desired most over the past three years. The pull-up I had hoped my parents would have purchased for me instead of the generic brand I had been stuck with. The distinctive purple waistband. The pastel rainbow on the front. But there was no time to admire it. I couldn’t deny a sudden rush of giddiness that was running over me as I felt the stretchy waistbands of the pull-up brush up against my legs as I slid it up to my waist. --- I took a sharp step forward with my left foot, planting it in the direction I was aiming my pass across the field. I swung toward the ball with my right foot, striking the ball on the inside of my cleat and sending it flying on a low trajectory toward Hannah twenty yards away. Hannah received the pass easily, executing a fancy side-step with the ball before kicking it back over to me. And no one could tell that we now had matching undergarments beneath our shorts. We’d gotten some looks from the coach running the morning drills, but he let us off with our excuse that we had gotten lost during our first morning on the massive complex. The drills had begun right away, leaving me little time to fret over how the pull-up was going to hold up. It turned out that there was no need to be worried. The pull-up was snug beneath my compression shorts, but to my pleasant surprise, it seemed like keeping them hidden during the day would be quite easy. So far, I hadn’t noticed any difference between these long sought-after pull-ups and the generic brand my parents had gotten for me. They felt the same. I hoped these would be more absorbent, but now wasn’t the time to test that. The compression shorts came up higher on my waist than the pull-ups did, reaching nearly to the top of my soccer shorts, and the snug fit of the compression shorts seemed to mute the crinkle sound, which I now could only make out faintly when I was close to Hannah while she was walking. It was impossible to forget that I was wearing the pull-up, not with how the compression shorts held it and pressed it up tightly against my skin. I mishandled the return pass from Hannah, the ball bouncing over my leg and coming to rest a dozen yards back. I jogged over to retrieve it, conscious the entire time of the extra padding between my legs, hoping fervently that it wasn’t forcing me into any type of waddle. Hannah’s semi-frequent runs over to the port-a-potty continued, my annoyance tempered with the relief that she seemed to be avoiding accidents, except perhaps for the time she’d grabbed her drawstring bag before heading in. There weren’t any more mishaps with her shorts, though I made sure to look over each time she returned to make sure that the drawstrings were in fact tied. I kept an eye out for the girl we’d encountered in the bathroom, but I didn’t catch a single glimpse of her. With the amount of campers, I hoped that this would stay the case for the rest of the week. I tried to re-assure myself that such an encounter wouldn’t matter. Like, who would believe her even if she accused Hannah of wearing pull-ups? Kids our age just didn’t do that. By the time morning practices were over, I was hungry enough that I didn’t care what was being served in the cafeteria. I intended to clean my plate down to the last bite. Hannah trailed behind me as we walked amidst the crowd, all flowing in the same direction, and she suddenly veered off to the side. “This way,” Hannah said, grabbing my hand. “Hey, the cafeteria is the other way,” I said. Hannah leaned in to whisper in my ear. “I need more pull-ups.” “Fine. But let’s be quick.” The detour to our cabin only took a few minutes. I had to nearly jog to keep up with Hannah’s speed-walking. I had done it. I’d survived a whole morning wearing a pull-up with no one else having a single clue. The small wave of giddiness I had felt earlier was back, and I didn’t know why. I suddenly felt like I needed to pee. Not so badly as to rush to a bathroom, but enough that doing so wouldn’t be difficult. What if I just went in the pull-up right now? I fought back at the intrusive thought. I knew that was a bad idea. I had no idea if these pull-ups would be much better than my own. I realized I had a decision to make as we arrived at our cabin, empty besides ourselves. I initially had intended to only wear the pull-up for one day. I had no desire for any of my cabin-mates to catch on to what I was doing. The opportunity to continue to wear these long-desired pull-ups was too difficult to pass up. And I really liked wearing the pull-up, even if wetting it wasn’t an option. And when was I ever going to get a chance to wear them for a whole week in a row without having to worry much about what the consequences of being caught would be? “Hold up,” I said as Hannah was making her way to the bathroom after restocking on pull-ups from her suitcase. “Would it make you feel better if I wore pull-ups the rest of the week?” Hannah didn’t answer right away. I began to worry that I had gone too far with my request, that she would be weirded out by my willingness to wear pull-ups without any actual need to do so. Instead, Hannah raced forward and wrapped her arms around me in a tight hug. “You’re the best friend ever.” “Um, thanks,” I said as I eased myself out of her grasp. “Can I take enough extras to put in my bag? That way, no one else has to know. Just us?” “Sure.” After Hannah went into the bathroom, I turned back and scanned around carefully, double-checking to make sure that none of our fellow cabin mates were approaching the cabin. I swept over to her suitcase, which she had left unzipped. I had no issues locating her pull-ups, which took up a third of the suitcase. Unlike me, Hannah had made no attempt to hide their presence. I counted out enough pull-ups to wear one each remaining day, scooping them up into my arms. Then I spotted something else. A bag full of Hannah’s nighttime diapers. Could I? Did I dare? There was no time to answer the question. There was only time to act. I counted the diapers quickly. There was one for each remaining night at camp with four spares. Way over-prepared, which was good, because that way she would be likely to overlook one of them going missing. If she had only brought one diaper per night, it would have been too mean to take one. I looked around once more before pulling the diaper out of the suitcase, sprinting to my bed, and tucking the diaper at the very bottom, away even from my own nighttime pull-ups. I looked around again. The coast was still clear. Hannah was still in the bathroom. No one else had entered the cabin. It wasn’t exactly a heist worthy of *Ocean’s Eleven*, but I still felt like I had pulled off a major job. Assuming Hannah didn’t notice anything was off tonight, once I got home from camp, I would finally be able to discover what it felt like to wear an actual for real diaper. I stared off into space, my mind awash with a whole new world of possibilities that I had never before considered. Would it fit? Would I be able to get it on by myself? What would it feel like? What would it sound like? And what would it be like when I finally released my bladder after holding it in as long as I could? “Maddy. Maddy! Is my pull-up showing?” Hannah asked, turning around so that her back was facing me. I didn’t see any tell-tale signs of the pull-up’s waistband above her shorts. “You’re good, it’s not showing.” “Thanks,” Hannah said as she turned around to face me again. “Why don’t you wear something like compression shorts over the pull-up?” I asked. “It hides my pull-up perfectly. You wouldn’t have to ever worry about anyone noticing.” I pulled down the waistband of my soccer shorts and my compression shorts, letting the top inch of the pull-up show briefly before hiding it again. Hannah crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t like them. They’re too tight on my skin. They feel funny.” “So? Isn’t it better to feel a little funny than to have someone see your pull-ups on accident?” Hannah shook her head firmly. “Uh, uh.” She was hopeless. I shuddered to think how this week of camp would have gone for Hannah if I hadn’t been along to hold her hand each step of the way. I didn’t know what to say next to help Hannah. My experience with wearing pull-ups paled in comparison to hers. “Well, maybe just make sure your shorts are tied tight enough so they don’t sag down.” I excused myself to go use the restroom. May as well be extra cautious. It was one thing for Hannah to be aware I was wearing a pull-up to make her feel better, but wetting them, on purpose or otherwise, would only serve to confuse things. Only kids like her had daytime accidents. --- I needed to pee so badly that I barely made it to the toilet on time. I should have gone before going to the campfire, but I had an experiment I was desperate to perform. I had lingered in the bathroom longer than normal each time, reluctant to remove the new pull-up from my view. Why did Hannah have to be so lucky as to get to wear these as well as her nighttime diapers? The thought of trading places came and went. No, that wouldn’t be worth the humiliation of everyone knowing that I wet my pants all the time. I let my soccer shorts and compression shorts fall to my feet. I didn’t remove the pull-up from my waist, sitting down on the slightly cool toilet seat with the pull-up still on. It was time to get ready for bed, and no way was I going to wear these at night. I didn’t want any of the other girls to get any hints of the extent to which I was now wearing pull-ups. If I was going to throw the pull-up away in the tiny garbage can in the toilet stall, there wasn’t any point in not wetting it first. I stared down at the pull-up as I let my bladder release. It filled up quickly. Too quickly. In a matter of seconds, there wasn’t a single dry stop remaining. I could feel urine pooling inside, not getting absorbed, but not quite leaking out yet, either. And then a few drips in the toilet, followed by a tiny stream. I sighed. Different pull-up. Same result. --- The next few days passed by in a blur as I settled into a routine. Sneaking an extra pull-up to change into after I showered in the morning wasn’t easy, but I managed to pull it off. And if anyone in Cabin B guessed that I was wearing a pull-up beneath my compression shorts, they kept that knowledge to themselves. Outside of the cabin, keeping the secret was even easier. By the second day, I hardly noticed that I was wearing a pull-up while I was running around during different soccer practices, games, and other camp activities. Hannah was basically a shadow, considering how she almost never left my side. That may have been for the best, considering the amount of times she needed my assistance, leaving me to feel almost as though I had gotten stuck in the role of a babysitter. I found myself once again in the restroom with Hannah, though at least she was proving to be more self-sufficient with her shorts. The stalls were narrow, and the walls didn’t go super close to the far. The effect was that you could see the feet of the person sitting in the stall next to you, along with whatever clothing they had dropped down to their feet, something I had noticed quickly and had made sure to be careful with my daytime pull-ups so as to keep them out of sight. I didn’t mean to notice Hannah’s pull-ups as I sat down in the stall, but it was impossible not to. I shuddered at the thought that anyone else she had been using the restroom next to might have inadvertently caught a glimpse of her different underwear. “Hannah,” I whispered, though I was fairly sure we were alone it the bathroom again. “You need to keep your underwear pulled up when you’re on the toilet. Otherwise someone might see it.” At least after a few days Hannah did understand that when I used the word underwear in public, I was instead using it as a euphemism to refer to her pull-ups. I saw her hands quickly grab her pull-up, and a second later it was out of sight. --- I kept a close eye on the back of Hannah’s shorts as we sat down in a semi-circle in the middle of the practice field while one of the coaches pulled out a white board to talk about some passing tactics to break offside traps. There was no sign of a pull-up sticking out. I breathed a sigh of relief. After the drawstring mishap on the first day at camp and the incidents in the bathroom, I was constantly checking to make sure her pull-up wasn’t visible. I still didn’t understand Hannah’s aversion to the compression shorts, but it did seem to be a theme, with all of her clothing looking large and loose-fitting on her. But, I would happily suffer any amount of discomfort if it meant preventing others from seeing my pull-ups, and it didn’t make sense that Hannah, who did have a sense of embarrassment at her insufficient toilet training, wouldn’t go along with that solution. Especially when it was so obvious. I was really enjoying all of the practice sessions. I couldn’t wait till this fall when I’d be back on a team with Emma and Angie and would be able to put this into use in games that actually mattered. Then Hannah’s hand shot up into the air in the middle of the coach’s explanation. Not again. I wanted to disappear into the ground. Her tendency to ask awkward, off-topic questions was only slightly better than her proclivity to just spout out whatever unfiltered thoughts were on her mind. “Hannah,” the coach said. “We’ll have time for questions later.” Hannah continued on, undeterred. “Are we going play capture the flag after dinner?” How and why her brain made that connection from what the current topic was something I couldn’t figure out. I looked down at my feet, second-hand embarrassment rushing through me, as the coach again gently explained to Hannah that there was a time and place to interrupt and ask questions. --- Three nights in, I realized something significant. As far as I could tell, not a single one of my fellow bedwetting campers had experienced any nighttime leaks. I hadn’t noticed any wet spots on pajamas in the morning, and no bedding had ever been removed or replaced. I knew from the evidence discarded in the bathroom garbage bins that plenty of bedwetting was happening each night. Why was it that the pull-ups didn’t work for me when the various forms of protection they wore seemed to work so well? My generic pull-ups did technically work, but only under the right circumstances when I peed in a moderate amount while my body wasn’t contorted in a bad position. And while I hadn’t tried to wet one of Hannah’s pull-ups fully in bed, I suspected the result wouldn’t be to my liking. Anything more than that, or if I tried to wet myself while lying on my side, and I was nearly guaranteed to create a big puddle underneath myself. Did some bedwetters just not pee as much? That might explain the situation for some of the campers. But the fact that Hannah wore a diaper to bed at night seemed to suggest that her pull-ups would be insufficient for the task. And whatever brand the pink pull-up was that Chloe wore, it appeared noticeably more absorbent than my own ones. The knowledge that there were better options than my pull-ups continued to taunt me. The problem was that I couldn’t see anything to do about it. No way was I going to ask my parents to buy diapers for me. That would put an end to the careful charade I put on to allow myself to continue going on sleepovers with my friends. The best I could do was the one I had stolen from Hannah. The thought of better pull-ups was also intriguing, but I couldn’t see a way to easily convince my parents to switch over to them, not when they thought my current pull-ups were doing an adequate job. I was in bed once again with one of my own fresh pull-ups. I’d last gone to the toilet about an hour ago, so I didn’t need to pee a lot, only a little. I shifted off of my side and onto my back and let my bladder release. Everything was warm, and warm was good. I was asleep before the pull-up cooled off. --- The soccer matches we played at the camp were adjusted slightly from the ones I normally played, The matches were shortened. That, and having large teams with lots of substitutions, allowed us to get a lot of games in while making sure everyone got sufficient playing time and enough rest in between. The beginning of the camp was a round-robin tournament. Our team won the first four games in our group, with Hannah and I tied for the most goals scored. But now we faced our biggest challenge. The team we were up against had also gone undefeated, meaning whoever won would get to go to the champion’s bracket for the ensuing playoffs over the final two days at the camp. It wasn’t my turn to start, so I had to wait about ten minutes until I got sent in with a substitution. The game remained scoreless. Hannah had also come off the bench to play the forward position across from me. Then I saw her. The girl from the bathroom. And she was playing defense for the opposing team. Maybe she wouldn’t recognize Hannah. Just as importantly, perhaps she wouldn’t recognize me. Then I saw the look on her face. How she ran over to whisper in the ear of another defender while pointing at Hannah. The girl and Hannah were both playing on the same side of the field, with the defender shadowing Hannah. There wasn’t much for us to do at the moment, with the action taking place on the other side near our own goal. As much as I wanted to move closer to Hannah to make sure she wasn’t getting bullied, doing so would put me well out of position. The other team finally got a shot off, with our goalie making an easy save. Now, it was our turn. The punted ball landed right in front of me at midfield. I trapped the ball and then turned to make an upfield pass toward Hannah. The defender got there first. She intercepted the pass, but knocked it out of bounds while in the process of doing so. The referee signaled for us to make a throw-in. One of our midfielders came up to throw the ball in while Hannah and I, the two lone forwards, attempted to get free of our defenders to receive it. The ball was thrown in toward Hannah’s feet, but it wasn’t aimed well. The defender slid between Hannah and the ball, shielding Hannah from it. A quick shove as she turned to pass the ball, and Hannah was on the ground. And, of course, the referee didn’t blow the whistle. There was a smirk on the defender’s face as she watched me run up to help Hannah to her feet. “Aww, did someone make a pee pee in her pull-up?” the girl taunted as I pulled Hannah off the ground. My mind searched for a solid comeback and went blank. Hannah looked like she might start crying. “Come on,” I said, guiding her away with a firm pat on her back. “She’ll shut up as soon as you score.” No sooner had we gotten back into position then the ball was moving up the field toward us again. Once again, I had the ball at my feet. I dribbled past the first defender and attempted another crossing pass toward Hannah. This time, I aimed it better, and Hannah was able to control the ball before the defender arrived. Hannah deftly swept the ball to her right past her. Now, there were no defenders remaining between herself and the goal. The girl spun and reached out toward Hannah as she ran past, grasping onto the back of Hannah’s jersey. A blatant but strategic foul to stop Hannah from getting a clean shot at the goal. I watched in horror as Hannah’s shirt lifted up and came untucked as she pulled away from the defender. There was a brief flash of pink above her shorts before Hannah tumbled to the ground, and the shirt fell back into place. The whistle blew a few times in quick succession. The ref first motioned for a direct kick and then pulled out a yellow card to display in the direction of the defender. I ran up to Hannah. As I helped her to her feet for a second time, I tugged down on her jersey to ensure it was covering her waistband. “Stop,” I said as Hannah started to try to tuck her shirt back in. She had again inadvertently exposed the pull-up, but just for a split second. I managed to get Hannah’s shirt tucked in without further showing off her pull-up. I hoped no one had gotten enough of a look to realize what it was. I lined up to take the direct kick, with the ball about 10 years out of the penalty box. Too far for a shot at the goal to be likely to succeed, but a great distance to send it into the box for an assist. I struck under the ball, getting a nice amount of loft as it dropped into the goalie box. Hannah slid between two defenders, leaping up at the exact right time. She flicked her head and the ball was in the back of the net a second later. We ended up winning by one goal. --- I stepped onto the field confidently, ready for my chance at glory. We’d made it all the way to the championship game, which was taking place on the main field after dinner on the last night of the soccer camp. Five minutes remained on the scoreboard. The score remained tied at 0-0. We had been allowed to let our round-robin matches end in a tie, but if both teams remained scoreless after the next five minutes, the winner would be determined by a penalty kick shootout. But there wasn’t much I could do about that at the moment. The ball remained stuck on the other side of the field as the opposing team attempted back-to-back corner kicks, though they failed to get a good look on goal either time. There was a sudden twinge in my bladder. My first instinct was to ignore it. I’d used the porta-potty shortly before the game began. That was a little over an hour ago. I hadn’t even drunk more than a sip or two out of my water bottle. I’d be fine until after the game was over. I could head over to the porta-potties near the bleachers then if I needed to pee that badly. I didn’t think Hannah would have the same issue. She made a habit of taking a potty break during half-time. Another couple of minutes passed as I stood tensely at mid-field. Just one chance, that’s all we needed. Our defense finally gained possession of the ball, kicking it up to the midfielders. I started a run up the right side of the field, raising my hand to ask for a pass. I got what I wanted, but the ball flew past my head and was easily cleared by a defender. I rested my hands on my hips for a brief second. The need to pee hadn’t gone away. But I really didn’t need to go badly, so I pushed it away again as I jogged back toward midfield, watching as our defense struggled under our opponent’s attack. Two shots on goal. Both deflected. Then three straight blasts of the whistle. Time was up. I returned to the sideline to see what the coach’s instructions would be for the shootout. I was pretty sure I’d be selected. The signals from my bladder were still coming. There was a porta potty about a hundred yards away. But no way was I going to risk missing the end of the game. I didn’t even need to go that bad. Hannah and i were among the five picked for the shootout. Hannah was to go first. I was chosen to go last. I found it hard to stand still as I lined up at midfield to wait my turn for the shootout. It was easier to ignore my bladder when I was focused and moving. It was much harder to do so when I was standing still. The rest of the campers and staff were gathered in a small set of bleachers overlooking the field. No way was I doing a potty dance in front of them. The other team missed their first shot. Hannah went first for us. The goalie dived to the left side of the goal, the ball hit the back of the net on the right. No surprise there. Hannah grinned as she returned to join us. The score was 2-2 after each team had shot twice. The final player for the opposing team missed their penalty kick with the ball bounding off the left post with a loud clang. This was it. Make the goal, and we win right then and there. Miss and it would be on to the single elimination round of the shootout. I walked up to the penalty box, scooped the ball up in my hands, and placed it on the penalty spot marker just how I liked it. My strategy was always the same for the first time I faced a goalie. Hesitate just slightly. Let them make the first move. Then drill the ball safely down the center. I stood up and took a pre-practiced amount of steps backward. As I got into position, the urge to pee transformed from a moderate need to an urgent, you are going to wet your pants right now, feeling in the span of just a single second. One minute, I was holding my bladder in with some effort, but it wasn’t so difficult that it caused me any worry. The next second, I was peeing uncontrollably. The whistle blew. My turn. I stood in place for a few painful seconds. My eyes remained fixated on the center of the goal. My mind remained fixated on what was happening inside my pull-up as urine warm enough almost to the point of feeling like it was burning spread between my legs. The stream of urine ended as abruptly as it had begun. Not enough that it should have leaked. But I didn’t look down to confirm. I moved forward – each step automatic and well practiced – and hesitated just enough to get the goalie to start diving, before tapping the ball straight forward into the net. I sank to my knees as shouting teammates surrounded me. --- In the chaos of the win, I’d managed to slip away, getting back to the cabin by myself. I’d lost track of Hannah, but I could blame the crowds if she ended up being that unhappy about being separated. What had just happened? I stood in one of the bathroom stalls, holding a pull-up I’d grabbed from Hannah’s suitcase. She was nearly out, but the half-dozen remaining ones would be enough for her to make it home tomorrow. My soccer shorts and compression shorts lay in a heap at my ankles. The state of my pull-up ensured that I couldn’t ignore what had happened on the soccer pitch a half-hour ago. I placed my hand on the front, the touch of my hand confirming what I saw. I had peed myself in public. Not on purpose. Not because I had wanted to see what it was like but because something had happened outside of my control. If I hadn’t been wearing a pull-up… I pushed that thought away. It had been nearly impossible to pee into a pull-up the first time I tried. It had taken a lot of effort to convince my brain and bladder that it was OK to urinate away from the toilet. I’d finally re-wired my brain to think it was OK to pee in a pull-up, and after wearing pull-ups for a week straight, it was inevitable that I would have relaxed enough to create the possibility of an accident. Tomorrow, I’d be back in regular underwear during the day. I wouldn’t wet myself then. My bladder knew better than to do that. --- After several minutes of moving back and forth, I finally found a seat that was a comfortable distance from the campfire. There were at least a dozen campfires in a scattered cluster on the outskirts of the cabins, enough so that a good portion of the campers could be sitting around them at any given time. The campfires had been completely full the first night, but they had gradually lost their appeal as the week wore on, and now, on the final night of the soccer camp, the seats around the fires were scarcely populated. I struggled to find a spot close enough to the campfire where I would be comfortable. Too close, and it felt like my shins were on fire. Too far, and I could barely feel any warmth at all, which was no good since I had forgotten to put on a hoodie before coming out in the surprisingly cool evening air. Hannah jumped back from the fire with a yelp, having set aflame her third straight marshmallow in a row. She pulled it close to blow it out, nearly striking her face on accident, but with the marshmallow’s surface completely charred black, the damage was already done. “Just get another one. I’ll do it for you.” After a week of eating s’mores, I was already sick of marshmallows myself, but Hannah again insisted on coming out to the campfire. Out of more than a dozen attempts this week, she had only managed to properly cook her marshmallow on one occasion, leaving it up to me to make one that would be perfect for a s’more. The problem was that her definition of perfect was very precise, and I was stuck eating the ones that were – according to her – too overcooked. Hannah returned with another marshmallow in her hand. I stabbed it securely onto the end of her three foot skewer and carefully positioned the marshmallow a safe distance from an open flame, rotating it every so carefully to make sure to get an even, lightly gold melt. I pulled it out in the nick of time a couple of minutes later, placing it onto a graham cracker held in Hannah’s outstretched hand. “I’m really glad that I got to spend the week at camp with you,” Hannah said between bites of her s’more. “Yeah, me too.” The lie came easily after a week of rehearsal. I mean, I was kind of glad that I had gotten to wear pull-ups the whole week. Well, aside from what happened in the game, but I was determined to blacklist that memory from my mind. And I was glad for the chance to wear one of Hannah’s diapers afterward. But I would easily have traded all that in for the peace of mind of knowing that my bedwetting secret was safe. But my plan had worked. Hannah had, admittedly to my surprise, held up her end of the bargain. She had not said so much as a word to anyone about the pull-ups I had worn each day. If I asked her to do the same about my bedwetting, I felt like I could trust her to be silent. The alternative wasn’t pleasant. “We’re moving to Minnesota in a month,” Hannah blurted out. I did some quick mental calculations. One month. That meant I’d be away on our family vacation at the time Hannah was moving in. Nothing to bother Hannah with at the moment. I adjusted how I was sitting on the chair, feeling the padding press up beneath me. What if? Maybe, the diapers would work well for me. New plans formed. Sleepovers with Hannah. Waking up in the night to grab a couple diapers from her closet to tuck away in my backpack. A steady supply that would supplement the pull-ups my parents purchased for my nightly use. All that could be mine for the simple price of pretending that I was her friend. --- For the first time in nearly a week, I was wearing regular underwear beneath my shorts, leaving me with the odd sensation of feeling a bit naked even though I, of course, was not. I had experienced a slight amount of trepidation as I pulled what felt like an unusually thin undergarment up to my waist. But the idea of a repeat of last night was unthinkable. This would get my bladder back on track during the day. All my bags were carefully packed. Other than my underwear, which had basically gone unused since the first day of camp, I was down to my last clean pair of clothes. Beneath the layers of dirty clothes bunched tightly into the suitcase was a secret that I couldn’t wait to experiment with. The single white diaper. If Hannah had noticed that her diaper count was off, she didn’t say anything. I was pretty confident it was something she would have spouted off about right away, so in the absence of any outbursts from her, I felt it was safe to assume that I was in the clear. What was the rest of my summer going to be like after camp? Hannah wouldn’t move in until I was already gone on the family vacation. There was the diaper tucked safely in the bottom of my bag. I would have to find the perfect time to try it on. But returning home also meant a return to attending that stupid summer learning program. The only thing good about it was they weren’t making me take any tests. And then there were the therapy sessions, the AD-whatever diagnosis, and some medication I was supposed to be starting for that as well. In less than an hour, my dad would be arriving to pick me up. It was time for the conservation I’d been prepping to have with Hannah all week long. Hannah and I were the last ones in the cabin. This time, I was grateful for how slow she was getting dressed and ready for the day. “Hey, I, um. I need you to do me a favor after camp. It’s really important. Do you think you could do that?” Hannah’s eyes lit up. “Sure!” I looked around, making sure that no one was heading toward the cabin, before inching closer to Hannah and whispering my request. “I need you to promise to not tell anyone else that I am a bedwetter.” I paused, feeling like it was probably best to be specific. “That includes your cousin, Emma, and Angie, and anyone else.” “They don’t know? Don’t you do lots of sleepovers?” Of course, I wouldn’t be able to escape with the promise without facing an interrogation. I shrugged my shoulder in an attempt to act nonchalant about her inquiry. “I’m good at keeping it hidden.” “But aren’t they your friends?” I grit my teeth. Couldn’t Hannah avoid being nosy just for once? “I don’t want them to tease me.” “Emma doesn’t tease me about it,” Hannah said. Of course not. But it wasn’t like I could tell Hannah that the only reason Emma was nice to her was because her parents insisted on it, that the words used behind Hannah’s back were far different and far less kind. “Please,” I begged, no longer fully needing to fake my anxiety and concern. “I’m really embarrassed by it. Can you please do it for me? As something for a friend?” Hannah’s head bobbed back and forth for a few seconds. “I guess I can.” “Pinkie promise?” I said, tentatively sticking my finger out without any hesitation. If I was going to do it, I should do it right. “Pinkie promise!” Hannah stretched out her own hand in return. Our fingers locked. Our hands shook. The promise was sealed. --- Links to all my stories can be found at https://abdlwriter.wordpress.com/ 21 1
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