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MikeK

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  1. Upvote
    MikeK reacted to BedwetterStacy in How many people here are actually bedwetters?   
    Lately I haven't been wetting my bed as much accidentally. While I do still have frequent accidents and I sleep in diapers, it seems like it's happening less often (maybe 1/2 of nights).
    Overall, this is somewhat of a relief to me. Paying for so many night-time diapers costs a lot, and I'm hoping to have fewer and fewer night-time accidents overall.
    It also seems like I've been wetting myself fewer times each night. Often times I wake up wet, change my diaper, go back to sleep, then wake up wet again. These days, it seems like I wake up less wet, so I think I'm sleeping dry for a while and then waking up to only one wetting.
    If it continues like this, I'd consider wearing Goodnites to sleep again. Currently I use Tenas for night-time, but I love Goodnites so much. The new XL size is really good and they tend to hold a full wetting of mine (just one, though). It would be easier for me to pee in the toilet when I wake up (instead of wetting myself).
  2. Upvote
    MikeK reacted to rachelkirwan in Goodnites coming out with new larger XL size!   
    I still haven't found these in Canada yet 😞
  3. Upvote
    MikeK reacted to rachelkirwan in My First Diaper Cuddle   
    So it’s been a while since I’ve written in an experience, and this one happened several months ago. I’ve been meaning to share it because well it was such a significant experience (in my mind) and one which I hope those of you into diapers out there (for need or pleasure or both) will share some time. The experience I’m going to share is a highly emotional one for me, so don’t expect the detailed wetting descriptions in my usual fun time experiences I share with you, but I hope you find it enjoyable none the less.
     
    This is the story of how I came out to my boyfriend about my bedwetting and UI problems and how I eventually spend the night with him, wearing a diaper, the very first time I’d ever shared the bed with someone while diapered and they knew I was diapered (apart from my parents and sister when I was very little). I should say that this story, looks like a pretty common one if internet searches reveal anything. One of the highest searches which come up when you type in ‘adult bedwetting’ into Google, is ‘how to tell partner.’ So I’m not alone, though this didn’t help too much, knowing that countless others have also suffered through this, it was somewhat reassuring, and believe me, I spent many hours reading people’s posts on this subject as I attempted to rehearse the event in my head.
     
    Note: pet names have been removed to protect the innocent ;) and to avoid embarrassment for all parties involved.
     
    The Background
     
    So the back ground, which regular followers will already know:
     
    Growing up I suffered from mild mixed UI. I leaked during the day (stress and urge UI) and wet the bed consistently at night. I would always wear absorbent pants to bed (diapers, pull-ups, then Goodnites and adult diapers as I grew up). During the day, pads were enough, except if I knew I was going to be away from a toilet for a protracted period of time, such as for long exams, travel ect., when I would wear something more absorbent. To answer questions before they are voiced, yes I have worn Goodnites and Depends fitted briefs to write University exams. A particular 3 hour history of philosophy exam comes to mind. I will get to writing an experience about one of those time, eventually.
     
    So I went through all sorts of tests, took different drugs, and tried all sorts of different things. Some of the drugs worked pretty well, which was good for sleepovers and stuff, but did not work 100% and (vessicare particularly) had bad side effects. So basically I relied on absorbent products.
     
    Not to get into my fantasy life too much but I’m on an Omorashi site and as many of you can see I post a lot. I also have an erotic interest in wetting and diapers. I’ve discussed this elsewhere, but basically I attest this to a few things. The first being how my discovering of my awakening sexuality as an adolescent was closely linked to wetting and diapers, while I’ve always had a fascination with diapers my entire life. These in particular have been a comfort object to me (given the protection they afford me), and well this is another reason why they are likely linked. I’ve also got a keen interest in erotic humiliation/embarrassment, and again there is certainly a link between more humiliating portions of my medical problem. Yes, I am still embarrassed by wetting events and the one I’m about to tell you, but later, reflecting on the emotions, I can also be aroused by them, or what is more accurate, is the emotions themselves and the physical responses associated with them (blushing, heart rate increase, chemical changes in the body) which get me really wet… this is reading like a psychology paper, you’re all wondering when I’m going to get to the experience, almost there.
     
    Now more than 4 years ago I had a Botox injection procedure which greatly improved my UI problem. This dealt with the overactive bladder components of my UI and left me with only minor stress issues. As I was dry almost all nights (baring nights when I drink a lot, which tends to lead to accidents of all sorts, drinking alcohol is not advised for those with UI problems and well is unfortunately hard to avoid for students), and dry during the day. The few exceptions to the daytime dryness were, again apart from drinking related issues, have all been when I have been doing very strenuous exercise, a little bit when sneezing, an infection I had a few years back, and if I hold it too long (which I always avoid).
     
    I’m will never be a champion ‘hold-it’ contestant. And I still am very careful to visit the loo as often as I can, especially before lectures. I still wear a diaper/pullup on long flights and in situations where it would be impossible to find a washroom, usually travel related. And if I’m not too far gone, I’d put a diaper on before going to bed if I’d had more than a couple of glasses of wine. The few times this step was missed, I woke up wet, though apparently this is ‘more common than you think’ amongst binge drinker types and is usually forgiven/explained away by the booze.
     
    After the procedure, my problem was largely resolved and I was, among other things, finally able to expand my collection of panties, and, importantly be a little more outgoing in my personal life. I was pretty reclusive during my undergrad years, partly because I was (and remain) very studious, and partly because I freaked out about having to tell a boy about my bedwetting, his reaction, and well ‘spending the night’ which would ultimately end in the disaster of a wet bed, or the horror of having to wear a diaper. I actually mulled over the possibility and I think I would have rather wet the bed, and written it off to alcohol rather than shared a bed with someone while diapers. Don’t get me wrong, some nights I’d like nothing more to be cuddled in a diaper and treated like a little girl (with all the fabulous hair brushing, bathing, diapering and cuddles which go along with it), but this has always been a hypothetical fantasy, like having your white flowing robe ripped off you by a lustful leather clad warrior, and violently taken against the wall of a castle (drool). In order to enjoy this kind of experience as the age play it is, I’ve first have to come out to my BF as both a bedwetter and a wetting pervert, neither of which I was keen on ever doing.
     
    After I sorted out my UI problem, I have had several boyfriends, lost my virginity, and even spent the night with boys! Lots of progress, of a kind. Well heart break and long distance ridiculousness occurred and I’ve met a pretty amazing guy, we’ve been together for a little under a year now and let’s just say we have spent the night quite a number of times (not to kiss and tell). I’ve been very careful to not spend the night when I’ve been drinking a lot, which I’ve not always stuck to. I have wet the bed (a small college single bed by the way), with my BF in it after a mad night of drinking. Fortunately it was my bed (which has a plastic cover over it) and  it was also a big relationship moment for us, while the wetting was written off by me being way too far gone after polishing off much too much, my boyfriend was amazing, he wasn’t mad at all and I should add that he was a perfect gentleman the night before as well, a nice change from some of my previous experiences with males. A few indications that added ticks for him in the ‘keeper’ column, for those keeping score.
     
    So this incident aside (and a few leaks here and there which were expertly concealed by yours truly), things have been pretty normal between us, as normal as things can go for too frantic grad students. Anyhow, and realizing that this has strayed into almost 3 pages of background, things were going well however there was a hiccup. Almost 6 months ago, my UI-related problems started coming back. The Botox injection to deal with an overactive bladder work but not always forever. 3 years it typical and I was lucky to get 3.5 years. So about 6 months ago I started leaking at night and increasingly during the day. It wasn’t as bad as it had been but it did present several problems.  The first problem was that I now had a rather serious boyfriend and we had been spending the night together often, which took a while to be sure I’m not hasty with these things.
     
    Coming Out
     
    Well now I had a problem, I certainly wasn’t going to share the bed with someone if I was almost certain (or let’s be honest, if there was any chance) that I would wet the bed. I’ve written about this elsewhere but I do leak a little during sex, whether its pee or female ejaculate depends on the timing, not too much and the recurrence of the problem meant that a little more was coming out during. This just meant an additional folded towel during adult extracurricular activity, so no big problem there.
     
    With the recurrence of my problem I started avoiding spending the night. A girl can only claim a head ache or womanly issues so many nights and my boy was pretty aware that I was hiding something. It’s not that we didn’t still have fun adult time together, it’s just that we did less often and I’d make an excuse and run off not spending the night (we generally ended up at his place for a number of reasons), or I’d duck into the loo to remove my pad prior.
     
    Well as I went to doctors appointments and got moody and sad about my problem, it was pretty clear that I needed to tell my BF about the problem (at the very least) or it would end up negatively effecting and possibly wrecking the relationship. I tried to hold off as long as I could, as the doctor’s appointments indicated that I would just need an additional treatment and I was hoping that if I could get this done and sort things out, that the problem would go away without my ever having to talk to him about it (yes I know, not healthy relationship behavior), I could chalk up the stand-offishness as being stressed out with school or something (which isn’t totally inaccurate). Well that became less likely as I was given a really long wait for the procedure and waiting for additional confirmatory tests (as most of my previous tests had been done in another country) took a long time too.
     
    Things were getting a little strained and the reasons to tell him became overwhelming: fostering an open and loving relationship, getting the emotional support I needed for what I was dealing with (I’m an old hand at UI but it’s still trying, especially tests and the procedure which freak me out), getting cuddles and things of this nature, and well generally holding onto this one as he is really great, compared to my embarrassment at having a medical problem and the possibility that he might take it the wrong way somehow (though he’d already passed the waking up in a bed filled with my pee test, so this was less likely).
     
    Anyhow, I screwed up the courage to tell him. Now this was no mean feat, and while I can have a pretty wild and kinky and outgoing fantasy life (see my collected work on this site), I’ve always been a bit of a coward with relationship stuff and sex in real life, take my long-held virginity and sexual inexperience well into graduate school as a case in point.  I’m shy about my boyfriend spotting feminine hygiene products in my bag or sometimes even excusing myself to use the washroom, so sitting down and talking about a leaky vagina was very intimidating. I vacillated for weeks and in the end I just had to force myself to do it, the equivalent to holding a gun to my own head (Fight Club-style).
     
    So we were laying in bed after an amorous encounter (if gentlemen don’t kiss and tell a lady certainly won’t), and I got up to get changed to go back to my room. I could see the look in his eyes that he’d rather I stayed and I probably had a similar look in my eye.
     
    He asked me if everything was ok, and instead of coming up with an excuse, I blurted out ‘No actually,’ and before I could change my mind, ‘there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you and talk about.’
     
    He looked immediately worried as I’m sure he could see the panic in my face and well I’m sure every guys wants to hear anything like that. I wasn’t making eye contact and by this time had pulled on a pair of panties (into which I was most certainly going to leak…) and t-shirt. Before he could say anything else, and I don’t think he was going to, I sat on the side of the bed and just plowed ahead.
     
    I quickly assured him that it wasn’t anything like that (not ‘we have to talk’ kind of relationship barn burning stuff), and that I really cared for him and trusted him and that’s why I was going to tell him what I was going to tell him. This of course didn’t help and he still looked totally freaked out. Thinking I was botching the job I kinda skipped ahead and blurted out almost word for word, the following, in a rush (the whole awkward conversation is kind of etched into my mind, like a horror film):
     
    “The reason I’ve got to go and I’ve not been spending the night is because if I did I’d wet your bed.”
     
    He looked relieved and blustered something like “hun we put down a towel it’s no big deal…”
     
    I didn’t let him finish, and getting a little flustered continued, “No, not like that, like um…” getting a little lost at this point, trying to think of something short and quick which would explain a much more detailed and nuanced history and issue, “no, like I’d pee your bed.”
     
    He still have a relieved look but was a little surprised, and gave one of his adorable quizzical eyebrow arches. I’d gotten to the point a lot quicker than I’d have liked, so no I backed up and took comfort in history, which isn’t (or can be) less horrific than the present. I began a long winded personal bedwetting and UI history. I told him how growing up we had thought it was just a development thing and I would grow out of it, but this didn’t happen, and how it had persisted into high school and university. I sat listening intently as I told him. I told him about my first UI treatment and how it had worked so well and that it was working when I had met him. I explained that I had still had stress incontinence (or problems as I told him, I still don’t like using that word, it’s amazing how euphemisms can provide emotional support when we least expect it). I got very flustered when he asked me to explain about the different forms can causes of UI. I think as a scientist he took a little comfort in a more clinical description, rather than my more historical narrative. He looked like he was thinking hard as I prattled off some facts.
     
    Anyhow, I explained how after my first treatment things were great and I only leaked during sports and sometimes drinking.
     
    And when I mentioned this his face changed to a look of recognition, I was just explaining this when he interjected, saying “so that kinda explains some of those stories and stuff?”
     
    Sheepishly I replied “yeah.”
     
    He’d hung out with my friends and thought they generally keep these stories to girl talk, he’d heard a few stories of drunken ‘messy Rachel’ behaving abhorrently (the ‘we found her sleeping sitting on the toilet’ story, or the ‘she was so drunk she forgot to pull down here trousers’ story). I’m sure there are a few from other observers as well.
     
    I did a lot more explaining, and explained to him that yes, this was why I had insisted that if I was drunk, he always take me back to my room and leave me there alone (there are other reasons I won’t get into but those were the ones I had told him at the time, rather than bedwetting related ones). And why I had wet the bed when he had stayed over, and why I never let him look for things under my bed etc.
     
    It was very cathartic to tell him all of this. The truth was actually relieving and like a burden had been lifted. I was also very scared; here I was opening a page of my life which was one which was usually reserved for tearful conversations with my doctor or mom. And I didn’t even share everything with them. I felt like I was standing in front of a class of students and just tearing off my clothes, laying open-legged at the front, and inviting them to come and take a look (this reminds me of a scene from a documentary we watched in my woman’s studies class where a woman actually did this (‘Too Much Pussy’), actually in the documentary the woman invited them all to fist her…). So it was both horrifying and relieving at the same time. The words spilled out of me and I’m pretty sure that a few times I went off on random tangents, made references to things only I knew about and didn’t explain, and generally blabbered on. He let me continue on like this until I was totally done, and I lay down with my head in his laps, tears pouring down my cheeks, while he stroked my hair.
     
    Now he talked, he was a little hesitant. He consoled:
     
    “You really had me scared there. You know, I don’t mind hun, it’s ok…” He talked slowly, like he was carefully picking his words. He explained how he had been worried I wasn’t into him lately as I’d been ‘acting a little funny,’ and he thought it was something he’d done, like not spending enough time together (were very busy and usually only get to hang out a few times a week).
     
    He told me, blushing a little, “I wet the bed when I was little… well until I was like 5.” Which I didn’t really think was comparable, but I was trying. I just lay in his lap sobbing. And then he said the magic words, “hun, it’s ok, please spend the night, I don’t mind if you wet the bed.”
     
    I didn’t see his face when he said this, but well he sounded very sincere, I looked up at him then with my wet messy face and he look like he was thinking hard about it, not just like he was saying it to make me feel better, but like he’d actually do it.
     
    He made a joke, “I mean it just means that we can take a shower together in the morning.” And I made a sobby, wet laugh.
     
    And here I found my voice again. “It’s not that….” I immediately regretted saying this, as what I wanted to say was, when you say that, you make me so happy, but I immediately went into practicalities and something else I hadn’t explained yet. “I… it’s just…” It was very hard, I was now no longer sobbing, but I kept my head in his lap and did not make eye contact, screwing up my courage, my stomach was full of butterflies and my heart was pounding like mad. “You wouldn’t have to, probably…” Referring to the shower, I trailed off and he looked inquiringly. “I mean it wouldn’t be like that time, you wouldn’t have to because I usually wear protection.” Choosing my words carefully, studiously avoiding the ‘D’ word.
     
    I stopped abruptly, listening for his reaction, tense with jaw clenched.
     
    “Oh.” He said, with the sort of inflection which indicates some degree of dawning insight. “Well that’s ok then.”
     
    My heart gave a little flutter at this. This dealt with one of our mutual dreads I think, that of waking up in a wet clammy bed. I can’t imagine what it took for him to say yes, not knowing I wore protection. Waking up in a cold, wet bed filled with your own pee is horribly annoying and occasionally loathsome, I can’t imagine how horrid it would be to wake up in a bed filled with someone else’s pee.
     
    I was slow to answer, not expecting such a quick and positive reply. I don’t know exactly what I was expecting actually, I had avoided playing the scene out in my head for weeks. I hugged him really hard then and we held each other for quite a while. I still hadn’t told him what kind of protection, I mean as a bedwetter I know exactly what that means, but I don’t know if non-bedwetter types have any idea, for all I knew, he thought I meant just a thicker overnight period pad (on an aside, we’ve not really spend the night together in this situation either).
     
    I then tried to explain to him that while I really appreciated him offering and not being too bothered and how amazing that was, and how it meant so much to me and so on. I didn’t offer to spend the night however. While he may have been contented to share the bed with me while I was ‘wearing protection,’ I certainly wasn’t ready. While we held one another all I could think of was cuddling up next to him and his feeling my padded bottom and recoiling. Another note, I don’t wear Goodnites to bed anymore. While I may be able to fit into these (squeeze into them), they don’t offer enough protection, instead I wear flat out diapers, not pull-ups which still have the dignity of resembling underwear, but rather tapped (do up) diapers (a range of varieties, which I select between based generally on how well I’ve followed my evening routine of avoiding liquids, caffeine etc., and whatever is laying around).
     
    While I have a strong age play side to myself and thoughts of how comforting this action could be entered my mind, they were quickly pushed aside by other thoughts. The fear that he would recoil from my diapered self. That seeing me in diapers would shatter the image he had of me as a powerful and confident woman. That somehow this would irreparably damage or change our relationship dynamic. And a host of other thoughts.
     
    I tried to explain some of these thought to him but I was emotionally and physically exhausted. I ended with saying something like how I’d like to spend the night together but I wasn’t quite ready. He looked inquiringly at me, same eyebrow raise, asking an unasked question. I blurted out “they aren’t like little pads or anything, they’re…” Still unable to say the ‘D’ word, “like big and stuff…”
     
    “Oh” he replied again, the same tone of understanding. “Like a…”
     
    Not wanting him to say it, I interjected “Diaper, yes.” I was no longer sobbing but tears were still streaming down my face, and I buried my face in the blankets to dry it and hide my growing embarrassment and burning cheeks.
     
    “Oh” he said again, somewhat lighter. “Hun, it’s ok.” He comforted. “I don’t mind, or… I don’t think I’d mind.” His self-correction seemed honest but a little scary. “We can give it a try?” He inquired.
     
    I explained how I wasn’t sure how I’d feel about it and then, in a strange attempt to change the topic, or maybe avoid the issue entirely, I lapsed into a lengthy explanation of the treatment I was planning on receiving. I explained the Botox, how it can wear out (not the technical term) and how I was waiting to do it again, and how after that things should get back to normal. Basically pushing away the whole spending the night together issue until then.
     
    He asked how long it might be, and I explained how I had different appointments first and it would likely be a few months. He seemed downcast at this point and suggested again that we could try, that that was a long time. I ended by asking for some time and that I would think about it. A little vague but I was exhausted.
     
    I hugged him again, sobbing a little more, and thanks him for being so wonderful. He just held me until I broke free and got up to finish changing for the walk back to my room (it’s not too far, in the same college, but involves lots of stairs and some outdoors). I pulled on my Pyjama bottoms and collected some of my remaining clothing (in the past few weeks of my making nightly cuddle-avoiding escapes I had left all sorts of clothes around his place and also taken to bringing my pijama’s with me on occasion to change into, sort of a suggestion that I might stay but really just something comfortable to scamper home in). I got my bag and kissed him good night and hurried to my room.
     
    I hurried to the downstairs bathroom to pee (I always go after sex and I am constantly worried that if I don’t, I will get another UTI). My underwear was sticky and wet, and left over from our almost forgotten love-making earlier in the evening. I then went straight back to my room.
     
    When I got back to my room I immediately changed for bed, and yes this involved taping on a large diaper, as I didn’t hadn’t gone much before. I crawled into bed, grabbed an additional pillow and stuffy and cuddled them until I fell asleep. Sleep didn’t come quickly despite my exhaustion, and I spend a bit of time crying, but not sure why, my mind filled with fleeting images and scenarios, and part of it making other wild calculations.
     
    The Planning
     
    Oh, so you thought this was going to be a short experience. It’s not. Anyhow, things between us were much better. For the next week and a half, I spend at least 4 evenings over at his place and he didn’t ask any questions when I got up at the end and didn’t come back. At the end of the second week since I ‘came out’ I had another appointment, this one with a specialist, having been previously referred from my GP. I was a consultation and I wasn’t expecting much, but was still nervous. It was a new urologist, I don’t know what happened to the elderly Indian doctor who I had seen previously for my UTI, but well he was replaced with an unknown doctor. Helping to foster our new even more open relationship, I told my boy friend about the appointment and my worries (new doctor, different health system, unknown length of time to treatment etc.). And he was comforting, I declined his offer to come (which would have been embarrassing having him wait in the waiting room, and also inconvenient because it would be like mid-day and likely drag him away from his research). While reassuring me, he again offered to have me spend the night, a sort of way of making me more comfortable with this sort of thing. I said something like, that’s ok, not yet.
     
    Well the appointment was not bad. They didn’t tell me that I would be doing a flow test but I came with a pretty full bladder anyhow, so that worked out fine. I was relieved not to see the very attractive male nurse who sometimes worked there and well the doctor was a 40 something friendly British guy who talked me through the next few steps. When I came back and next saw my BF again I told him some of this timeline, again part of the new open thing. He was really caring and again offered to have me spend the night, which again I declined.
     
    Well another week went by. On the bedwetting front things had not really changed. I was on a different medication (Desmopressing, one which I’ve had before), which helps during the day, but does only a little during the night (well a little bit, I tend to wet a little less, which means I can wear smaller diapers but they are still wet in the morning, damp on good nights). A few more evenings at the BF’s room and me still stealing away like a thief in the night. My BF was getting a little antsy and told me again that he wanted to try to spend the night. He expressed his fears to me, saying that I had a lot invested in the treatment and what if it didn’t work, and I still ended up ‘having problems’ at night. He’d looked into the treatment a little and found that there’s no guarantee (being the scientist that he is, I should have guessed he’d research it in greater depth). I hadn’t thought of this, in my mind the Botox would be the golden bullet which solved all of these problems, I hadn’t thought about how it might take a few weeks to really work (like last time), and what if it didn’t, or again what would happen in 3-4 years…
     
    I was surprised and gratified, he saw us being together for a long time, which was great, and was really making an effort to make things normal and work despite my problem (another check in the box!). But this was also scary, it meant that I couldn’t get out of avoiding the whole spending the night thing, that I would need to do it.
     
    So this time when I told him that I needed to think about it, he said ok, but that I should think about when as well as how. He didn’t ask again for a week, but it was clear that it was going to happen. And well part of me wanted it to happen. As I have said, I’ve not (still as of writing) told him about all my fetishes. He knows I like it a little rough, some hand-cuffs (but what girls doesn’t right?), a little spanking, and that I love dressing up like a schoolgirl (which he also loves). But he doesn’t know just how little that schoolgirl is in my mind, or my other fantasies…
     
    Spending the night with him in a diaper, for medical reasons, was a very, very first step to these kinkier things, if they were ever going to happen. If I couldn’t cuddle next to him in a diaper, however could I ask him to change me, or spank and punish me after I’ve had an accident? The analytical part of my brain kicked into planning mode.
     
    I study philosophy and planning and analytical thinking is part of that, and I like to plan things out very carefully. You should see the amount of planning I put into trying anal with one of my previous BF’s or on the night I lost my virginity…Anyhow, so plan I did. I spent many hours planning out what I would do, how and where I would do it, and a wide range of contingencies.
     
    While cuddling in bed with a diaper under a thick pair of pyjamas may be ok, I was also horrified about such things as:
     
    -          Walking about the room where he could hear the crinkle. Now diaper lovers love this sound and without context, most people would assume it’s just clothing, but if the other person knew, then well every step would be a giveaway, and just heap more embarrassment on.
    -          I had to think about changing. Again, cuddling was one thing, but there was no way I was going to lay on the bed in front of him, with my legs spread, and change myself into a diaper. So this had to be planned for.
    -          I also had to make plans for changing in the morning. Waking up wet was almost an inevitability, though I would certainly take precautions (like going to the bathroom before (twice), avoiding liquids 6 hours before bed, no caffeine or sugary drinks all day, extra (double or triple) desmopressin), these things would certainly minimize wetting, which was crucial to avoiding any leaks, as this would be even more horrific, but I still needed a morning plan. Again going to bed with someone wearing a diaper is not the same as waking up next to them in a wet one. More embarrassing than wearing a diaper is wearing a wet on, a dead giveaway that you need the diaper, a sign of shame, of failed continence, and so on.
    -          Leak minimization was certainly required and here a difficult decision needed to be made. I had to balance the desire to wear as thin, as inconspicuous, as discreet a diaper as possible, with the counterbalancing desire not to have said diaper leak. I mean I could have worn a Goodnite or a Tena Discreet and I don’t think he’d have noticed (I’ve worn the latter some times during the day and he certainly has not noticed), but I would have woken up in wet pyjamas. Basically I had to come up with the Pareto optimal absorbency-to-discretion ratio.
     
    So for the next week I kept a meticulous voiding diary. I’ve kept these before for my doctors so it wasn’t too big of a deal, and I’ve also analyzed them myself to understand my body and its foibles. As I’ve said I’ve done this in the past, back when I was an undergrad, I knew all the steps to take to make my wetting manageable when I was away on conferences (and even did a few awake all nights things… which is of course a different story). But since my UI had come back, it wasn’t quite the same as before, so some studying was necessary.
     
    I took a 200mg dose of Desmopressin all week, and this was pretty good at keeping wetting down. I also experimented with different padding options. I rejected Goodnites, even though with reduced wetting they could have worked but they are also tight, could tear (and fall off), and most of all, the feature which I like best about them (the adorable designs), is an added embarrassment. Wearing a diaper in front of someone for the first time is one thing, but wearing a children’s diaper is quite something else. So I experimented with my rather large collection. I even tried slipping a baby diaper into one of my slimmer diapers as a soaker.
     
    I worked out the following plan, which rather than tell you the plan, I’ll just tell you how I went about spending my first night with my BF in a diaper. And yes that is a 6000 word preamble.
     
    Diaper Cuddles
     
    So the week had gone by and my planning was in full swing. After dinner on Friday I told my BF that I wanted to spend the night with him the next Friday night-Saturday morning. This would give me lots of wiggle room in the morning (so neither of us had to get up for work and I could slip out and change as needed, and no pun intended), it also happened to work for both of us.
     
    All week I was frightfully nervous, and kept my voiding diary (I actually used a copy of the forum my doctor had given me and well I ended up later giving it to my doctor and he was rather impressed by the detailed two week account to say the least). I planned and re-planned. It was a busy week so we weren’t able to get together and spend too much time together, but I made time Thursday evening for an amorous encounter.
     
    A crucial part of my plan was not changing in front of him, and so if we got together (did Friday night dinner), and then things got frisky, I would have to change in front of him. The other options involved:
    -          changing in the washroom downstairs when I went down for my pre-bed time pee, was impractical as while I’m pretty adept at putting on a diaper standing in a stall I’d rather not, and also it would mean trudging up several flights of stairs with a very padded and potentially crinkly bottom and risk running into neighbours and other students etc. So that was out.
    -          Changing in the room (yes it’s just one room), with him say outside of the room, would be an awkward (post-coital), and in the room but not looking would be too risky (men always peek, right?).
     
    So sex was off for Friday night, so to make up for this, I texted him Thursday afternoon and he came over to my place for a quickie. While most of our amorous adventures took place at his place, my room is not entirely off limits, though since the recurrence of my problem it has been. This may be kissing and telling but when he did come over I at first tried to have him take me up against my dresser so that we would avoid going on the bed, with the now tell-tale crinkle of the plastic mattress cover, but well we ended up on the bed…
     
    So skipping tastefully and discreetly ahead to Friday. I was very careful during the day. I basically followed all of the lifestyle things they recommend to cut back wetting. I drank a normal about of water during the day (yes dehydrating yourself it not actually a good option, believe me, and medical research incidentally). However, around 5 pm I cut back, and only had a small glass of water over dinner. I took two Desmopressin tablets (400mg) over the course of the day (one in the morning the usual time and another one with my last cup of water). I visited the washroom every hour, as close to the hour as possible and tried to pee eve if I didn’t have to (I usually try to visit the washroom every 2 hours and had been working to extend that somewhat).
     
    Dinner was fantastic as always and after dinner on a sort of ambling walk, I told my BF some of the plan. I had previously told him that we were going to be spending the night at my place, with the unspoken implication that this was clearly because of the plastic sheet and proximity to my supplies, and he understood this well. Nothing like home turf advantage. I also told him how things were going to work out, or how I’d like them to work out (guys, when a lady tells you how she’s like things to work out, that is basically how it’s going to be, no arguments).
     
    I was wearing a semi-formal black dress (nothing fancy, I couldn’t be bothered to plan my wardrobe as I was too busy planning my evening and night time arrangements. A simple ponytail, flats, a strapless bra and simple white cotton bikini panties with a pad (for those following along at home this is a non-optimal panty choice for a black dress but the dress was long and also the dress does not lead to VPLs). The BF, as an aside, was handsome as always in a dark gray suit, with a funny science tie (he somehow has about 12 of these, things with little DNA molecules on them, frogs all sorts of ridiculousness). Anyhow we walked about town a little, it’s a lovely town and lots of funny things going on all the time.
     
    The walk may have been a little longer than normal but it was partly to calm my nerves and partly to let the glass of water I had with dinner work through my system. It was about 10:30, and I’d planned bedtime for lime 11:30 to midnight, so not too late but also not too early so there was lots of cuddling while awake going on (with all the inherent and potentially horrific  opportunities for feeling a girls diaper under her pyjamas). We ended up at a college bar where the BF had a beer, and I, not wanting to appear too paranoid, had another small glass of water, which I got mostly as a prop, but ended up drinking most of it as the evening wore on.
     
    At about 11:20 we left the bar and made it back to the stairs up to my room. I told the BF to come up and wait in the sort of common area for a while, while I got changed. Well, I didn’t say that directly but what I did say was “you wait here” as we passed the lounge, “and come in in exactly 20 minutes, no sooner, ok? I’ll leave the door unlocked, just knock and come in.”
     
    He agreed and sat in the lounge. I felt a little bad just leaving him there but all of my neighbours know him, and he’s got a spiffy phone which contains hours of entertainment. Anyhow as I walked to my room my heart was pounding. I almost forgot some of my careful planning, like visiting the washroom one more time before bed. So I hurriedly took off my dress, took out my pony tail, took off the somewhat uncomfortable bra and pulled on a t-shirt and PJ bottoms. I took a few minutes brushing my hair to calm my nerves and removed my makeup.
     
    Next I checked the bed one last time, I’m not sure why, but I guess making sure that the plastic sheet in place and not too noisy. It’s a pretty good quality one I bought. The college supplied a cheaper one but it was too noisy for sharing the bed so I went to M&S and bought a quilted thing. It is harder to clean but less noisy. I went to the box under my bed where I keep all my diapers and selected the one I’d planned on wearing. For tonight I decided to wear Depend’s Fitted Briefs. I had initially wanted to wear my Tena Flex, because they are so quiet but they are way too bulky. Depends are less bulky but more plasticky.
     
    I took the diaper out and hid it under the pillow. Then, taking my keys, and shower bag, I left (locking the door), and hurried downstairs for my last pee(s) before bed. I hurried past the lounge so I didn’t have to run into the BF, and headed downstairs, where I peed as much as I could, brushed my teeth and then tried peeing again (double voiding for those following along at home). I then hurried upstairs, aware of the fact that I had about 6 minutes to get changed into a diaper and into bed before my boy came knocking. So I got back into my room, my heart rate high, and stripped off my bottoms and panties (the pad was pretty much dry thanks to my daytime routine and likely also to the Desmopressin, I think the moisture in it may have been from sweat). I locked my door, pulled out the diaper and laid it on the bed, and spread it open.
     
    I got out my baby powder. I had had previously debated using this, as the smell, always a huge comfort and turn on for me, would also be a very obvious non-visual sign and very baby-ish, more so than wearing a diaper. My initial plan was not to use any but the moisture in my pad and sweat from stress suggested I do otherwise. And so I made a split-second change of plan to use a small amount.
     
    I lay back on my bed on top of the open diaper (while I can put on a diaper standing up in a small bus washroom, I prefer not to and it’s harder to get everything in the correct place to cut down on leaks), I spread my legs and applied a tiny amount of baby powder to the sweatier places and pulled up the front of the diaper. I tried fastening the tapes and ended up messing them up, leaving way too much room around the legs. Normally if this happened I would just re-adjust the tapes but as this was a special occasion and I didn’t want a tape coming undone in the night. So I dove under the bed and grabbed another fresh diaper, tossing the other one back in the box. I lay back down and this time fastened the tapes, my heart was still pounding.
     
    Once it was fastened, I stood up to check everything was in place, which it was, this time (I’m usually pretty good at this, I should be by now). I went to my panty drawer and selected a pair of boy-short panties (the ones with the polka dots, which are both thick and have lots of coverage, I might have featured them in other experiences, and pictured here:), and slipped those over the diaper, being careful to obscure the waistband, another giveaway. I then hastily pulled my pyjama bottoms up, tied the waist string in a double knot (I usually don’t bother tying them up), and walked over to the door.
     

     
    I had accomplished all of my preparations in about 18 minutes, a little longer than planned, but I had given myself a little extra time for panicky fingers fumbling with tapes and general panic. I turned down the lights (leaving only the bedside light on), unlocked the door, brushed the little baby powder which had got onto the duvet cover away, and crawled into bed, pulling the covers up to my chin. The diaper crinkles ominously as I move. Making sure they cover all of the waistband of the diaper, I run my finger all the way around and I pull up the pyjama bottoms again.
     
    And now I waited, it was too late now to go back. I fought the urge to jump up and lock the door, and text my BF that we would do it another night. I fought the urge to take the diaper off and shove it under the bed with its companions, soggy morning be damned. But no I lay there, hugging myself, staring at the door, waiting for it to open.
     
    Wow waiting sucks, I was sweating pretty good and glad I had put on the baby powder, I suddenly realized that I should never have excluded it at all, as I had not thought about the temperature difference sharing a bed with someone.
     
    While I was contemplating this, there was a knock at the door and my BF’s voice. “Rachel, can I come in?” He asked.
     
    I struggled for words. This was the moment of truth, where everything would be revealed. Well not quite, I was still protected by the duvet and layers of clothing. I let out a sort of croak, which after clearing my throat, was able to turn into a loud “Un-Huh.” And the door opened.
     
    In walked my BF, still in his suit from dinner, the tie off and collar loosened. He was smiling reassuringly and first looked to my desk where I’m often sitting when he comes to visit (working of course, what else). I made a little noise from the bed and he looked over, and I felt naked before him, despite the covers, duvet, pyjamas and panties. The look he gave me wasn’t one of those looks thought (the kind you get at bars when you wear a short skirt and you feel like the man is staring at your most intimate parts even if they are just barely covered, and well ladies will know what I’m talking about), it was all in my mind, his look was kind, inquiring and concerned, but I felt exposed before him, laid bare. This wasn’t a good start I thought, as he was only just standing in the room. I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to calm down and when I opened them he was still there, locking the door behind him.
     
    “Shall I?” He asked. I nodded and he began to undress. With each item – the jacked, the shoes – I felt like I was getting closer to something – the socks, the shirt – closer to some significant moment for which I was both terrified and excited. I felt very much like I did on the night I lost my virginity, though perhaps less apprehensive and scared of physical pain and more of an emotional kind of fear, fear perhaps of being humiliated or heartbroken. My mind filled with thoughts of this nature, and it’s a little overwhelming. The shirt. And now he was standing before me in his boxer-briefs (that’s what you call the tight sort of boxer things right?) and I nodded. I usually sleep with in pyjamas with panties and a t-shirt from force of habit, and he varies, usually wearing boxers or boxer-briefs only, maybe a shirt in the winter.
     
    His reassuring smile and look was comforting as he approached the left side of the bed (I’m ensconced on the right). Now did I mention these are small college beds? Not a hotel king sized where you can splay out and never know that there’s another 6 people sharing it with you (hyperbole), or even a queen where cuddling is encourage but still optional. The beds are not quite singles, I think the college knows that student’s will fuck, but they certainly don’t encourage it, or apparently do not, due to their bed size selection.
     
    Anyhow I dared not move for fear of making a crinkling sound, which was audible when I first dove under the covers. He pulled back the covers and climbed in. As he did I looked down, inspecting my bottoms to see if anything was visible. There was certainly a bulge (or was I only noticing it), but no, the waistband is thankfully still concealed (as it should be as I’ve not really moved since climbing in).
     
    So there he was, laying beside me, propped up on an elbow gazing at me caringly, and he cracks a joke, well sort of, he says jocularly “Looking a little tense there sport.” I cracked a smile, and without any further warning he wrapped his arms around my neck and torso and pulled me into a hug. Too quick for me to squirm away, though once I was ensconced I can’t imagine doing so. I heard a tiny crinkle as he pulled me into the embrace and grimaced inwardly. But he didn’t appear to notice, or, what is much more likely, pretended not to.
     
    I let out a huge breath which I hadn’t realized I was holding and let myself be enveloped. “See, nothing to worry about hun.” He reassured, hugging me closely. I hugged him back and a few tears of relief escaped my eyes. I’m not usually a weepy type of person but all of this had really touched on some conflicted and powerful emotions for me. I murmured something about being so relieved and we laid down, still hugging. Despite his reassuring nature I was mostly hugging with my torso, pressing my breasts into him and keeping my pelvis a little further away. If this were a regular night, he’d likely bring a hand down to my bum and pull me into him, and I’d usually feel his hard bulge pressing into me. But not tonight thankfully. Respectfully he only hugged  my top, a sort of awkward Jr. high school hug, keeping the important bits far away.
     
    “Are you ok hun?” He asked.
     
    “Yes, now I am,” I stammered out the cliché, but it was true. In his arms I felt ok, I don’t know what I had been so worried about, and then shifting my weight slightly I heard the crinkle and remembered.
     
    Well we hugged for a while, longer than would be normal, I’m pretty sure his bottom arm was falling asleep but he kept hugging like a pro. After a while we came apart and lay on our sides, facing each other but about a foot apart, and talked, just like it was a regular night. After a little while, I moved a little closer and kissed him, and then thanked him for being so supportive. He smiled and kissed me back. We talked for a little while longer and then moved over to turn off the light. As I did, the sound of the diaper was audible in the silence. I cringed inwardly, at least I think it was inwardly, but he must have noticed my discomfort and hugged me from behind. “Rachel,” using my name, “look, please don’t worry so much, I don’t care really, it’s not big deal.”
     
    I gave a sort of sheepish smiled squirming around to face him in his arms. “Well it is to me, I’ve been so scared and well nervous and stuff, and well I shouldn’t be embarrassed I guess but I am.”
     
    “I understand, just don’t worry about me, ok?” He said.
     
    “Ok.” I said. We said our good nights and kissed and lay down to sleep, still a little apart. My heart was still racing and I wasn’t going to sleep any time soon. I just lay there, a million thoughts running through my head. Did he really think it was ok? What was he really thinking? What if I leaked? Should we cuddle or spoon? How did I really feel about this? How was it going? Could I tell him more? Should I cuddle him? I lay there for a good while, just trying to breathe deeply and calm myself down and sort out my thoughts.
     
    “Still awake hun?” He asked after a good while.
     
    “Unh-huh.” I confirmed.
     
    “Wanna talk some more?” He inquired.
     
    “Unh no, but I do want to…” I said and moved closer to spoon him. As I curled my body around his I was totally aware of the minute sounds my diaper was making, and its feeling against my slightly-sweaty skin. I manoeuvred close to him, my diaper pelvis close to his bum. He was content and I was, surprisingly, rather relaxed. I snuggled up against him, cognoscente of my padding, but tried to make the cuddle as normal as usual.
     
    We spooned for a little while but it didn’t quite seem as physically intimate as usual. It was certainly emotionally intimate thought, as here I was pressed up against a man, wearing a diaper. Well without too much warning, and still awake, he rolled over and moved to entwine our limbs into a more cuddle position. I kept my legs firmly together when he tried to interpose one of his legs between them, though part of me wanted to acquiesce. “Spoon then?” he mumbled and I assented.
     
    I lay there expecting to return to being the big spoon as before, but he didn’t move, and instead moved to roll me over. I was loath to be the little spoon as it took away much of my agency in controlling the distance between parts of our bodies this time I gave in and noisily rolled over and curled into the little spoon. He enveloped me, pressing his body around me, like warm clay being pressed against a mould. I could feel his chest against me back, his left arm draped over me, moving across my stomach. His pelvis pressed against my amply padded bum and his legs running the length of mine. At first I had a minor panic when his pelvis made the back side of my diaper crinkle, but he did not pull away, and if anything pushed a little harder, as if he’d forgotten I was wearing protection.
     
    My initial panic subsided and was soon replaced by a most magnificent feeling, I felt warm and comforted and secure. Like the way a diaper makes me feel but then some, and all over. Warm and protected in all possible ways. I was amazing, like I was being cuddled in every possible way, like all cuddles before this one were not quite as cuddly as they could have been. All my fears were somehow unfounded or at least over the top. In all my panic, I had not thought about all the benefits associated with taking this risk. I’d forgotten how long I’d yearned to be held like this while wearing a diaper. To be treated as a little girl and held in Daddy’s strong arms, protected from the monsters of the world. In other words, bliss.
     
    Curled inside the safe embrace my heart rate slowed and I was soon asleep.
     
    The Morning After
     
    I awoke, remembering the warm embrace in which I fell asleep, a marvelous feeling of being protected and cuddled like a little girl. It was not too early, around 9:00 am, the sun was up though and it was a pretty nice day outside. I was wrapped around my BF, having some time in the night assumed the big spoon position once again, and pressed against him for warmth. I was groggy and my eyes were full of sleep, and I subconsciously pressed myself into him further, pushing my pelvis against his bum. As I did so I felt the wet, squishy-ness of a wet diaper. As expected, I had wet in the night and now here I was almost humping my BF while wearing the wet diaper. I was suddenly wide awake, and would have jumped out of bed right there if it would not have woken him. Instead, and showing amazing quick thinking for that early in the morning, I slowly moved away from him adding about a foot and a half between us. I then reached down, feeling the crotch of my pyjama bottoms, checking for leaks. I reached my hand around to my bum, to check the usual spots. Fortunately, my regime had worked and the diaper had absorbed everything which I had leaked in the night, and the night time leak had not been very significant.
     
    I now faced the conundrum, and one for which I had been thinking through different eventualities during my previous weeks of planning. I was laying beside my sleeping BF wearing a wet diaper. The challenge was now to somehow change without him seeing, and preferably knowing. I knew that this wasn’t going to be like the odd sleepover Goodnite thing where you could get up and change and be dressed for the day when your friends woke up and just claimed to have got up early (or even change in your sleeping bag and wear the wet Goodnite home which I did once as well), he would know I had wet the bed. I don’t know why this mattered so much, I had already told him I wet the bed (nearly every night as I had admitted), so he could very well expect me to wet this past night, only that admitting to it verbally and providing physical evidence seem totally different. I lay there thinking. My plan was, once he woke up, to have him go to the washroom while I changed (again there was certainly no way I was going to get up and head downstairs to the washroom to change out of the diaper. This may have been a student building and it was a weekend but people would still be up in the morning and I didn’t relish waddling and crinkling my way downstairs in a wet diaper.
     
    To put my plan in motion my BF had to be awake, which for the time being, he wasn’t. Waking  him up urgently wasn’t really a good option either, as this would imply that some urgency was needed, which again would have been not part of my plan of ‘playing it cool.’ So I moved a little closer to my BF and nuzzled him a little in an effort to gently prod him awake. He made a noise and unexpectedly rolled over and pulled me close. Painfully aware of the wet diaper between my legs I lay there being hugged and tried to shimmy my pelvis away from him. I was not successful and I could feel a hard thing pressed against my padded sex. At once I felt scared and naughty. Oh how in my fantasies I’d be woken up, gently changed by Daddy and maybe given extra special attention down there. I was also scared that his amazing acceptance of last night would vanish in the morning once he found out I was wet.
     
    I squirmed a little and moved away. This time he stirred and I saw his eyes open blearily. “Mornin’ hun.” He mumbled.
     
    “Morning.” I replied, trying to not let me complete wakefulness and nervousness into my tone.
     
    “Sleep well?” He asked.
     
    “Urm… yeah.” Not expecting the question. He had noticed my nervousness.
     
    “Everything ok hun?” He asked, a little more awake.
     
    “I’m ok, yeah.” I said with some trepidation. My body language and inflection had given the game away, now he’d know I’d wet the bed and would laugh at me, or be disgusted or something like that. Or so I thought. He smiled blearily.
     
    Now that he was awake I could put my plan in action. “Sweety?” I asked, “do you need to visit the washroom?” The line seemed even more corny and contrived when I said it allowed, believe me. Maybe a little too mothering as well.
     
    “I’m ok for now.” He replied hesitantly.
     
    “Well if you go now we can do some more cuddling when you get back…” I suggested.
     
    Getting my hint, I think, he agreed and slowly got out of bed. He was still a little hard and I could see the not-inconsiderable bulge in his underwear. He stretched and bent down and pulled on his pants and in bare feet slipped into his shoes, and without putting on anything else unlocked the door and headed out.
     
    The second the door closed I sprang into action. I threw off the covers and stood up, checking once more that I had not leaked. I stepped over to the door and locked it. Then I pulled down my pyjama bottoms and polka dot panties to inspect the damage. The wetness indicator was indicating what I already knew. I tore open the tabs and dropped the diaper to the ground. I quickly rummaged in the spot where I hide my baby wipes and pulled them out. I rapidly swabbed my diaper area with the wipes, attempting to clean as thoroughly and quickly as I could. Halfway through I realized I was not doing a very thorough job and slowed down. I probably used more wipes than I actually needed to (well over 5), but I cleaned everything as best I could. I tossed the used wipes into the diaper which was still laying open on the floor where I had let it fall. Touching myself was strange, I was trying to go quickly, as I know how quick boys can be in the loo, so it as a little clinical but at the same time I felt tingles and blushing of sensation and it felt good. I again thought about the warm complete feelings I’d had while being held wearing the diaper and the eroticism of the moment hit me again.
     
    Breaking my own revelry I then grabbed a towel and towelled off my diaper area, as it was rather damp from the wet-wipes. Clean and dry I went to put my pyjama’s back on. I thought about putting on the same panties, just sans-diaper but then thought against it. Instead I went to my panty drawer and pulled on a pair of while with pink polka dot bikini cut panties. Then I pulled my pyjama’s back on. While I was doing this there was a thump on the door. I don’t think my BF knew that it was locked and just walked into it, thinking it would open.
     
    “Rachel?” I heard muffled from the other side. “You there hun?”
     
    Panicking again I hastened “One minute.” And I sprang went into overdrive. I quickly bundled up the diaper filled with wipes. I balled it up, using the tapes to hold the tightly rolled ball together (anyone who has changed a diaper knows this trick). I then reached under my sink and pulled out a very opaque plastic bag which I’d kept for this purpose, and making far too much crinkling sound, I stuffed the diaper into the bag, knotted it, and then, in a total absentmindedness and haste, tossed it under the bed into my box of diapers.
     
    I then hurried to the door, unlocked it and let my scantily clad and slightly confused boyfriend back in.
     
    “Thanks hun, everything ok?” He asked. I nodded, still a little flustered from my final clean up dash.
     
    I pulled him to the bed, undoing his pants as he went. He had to pull them off, or risk tripping on them. We crawled into bed together and this time I entangled our legs, perhaps in some subconscious effort to show I wasn’t wearing a diaper and to make up for my frigidity the night before, I spread my legs and pressed my sex into his warm thigh. He looked at me as I did a little surprised, or perhaps bemused?
     
    Anyhow we cuddled a little while longer. I thanked him for being so understanding, to which he said ‘it was nothing and I had had nothing to worry about, and that he hadn’t even notice anything’ (at which I blushed considerably). And then I showed him just how happy I was that he had been so understanding and released all that stress and tension which had been building up in the previous days. I didn’t end up keeping those polka dot panties on for very long…
     
    Dénouement  
     
    Wow, so this had turned out to be very much longer than I had anticipated. It kind of turned into a very personal journal entry, more focused on my emotions (silly as they were sometimes). If you’ve gotten this far, hurray, I hope you enjoyed it. It’s not your normal kind of experience focusing on a short wetting incident, but it was very powerful for me.
     
    Since this night, my BF and I have spent many nights together with me diapered (always). Always at my place, which has been a good thing as I got a little complacent and leaked once (which is a story for another time, as is my boyfriend seeing my diapers and me in a diaper (partly), as I wasn’t always so careful with the plan either). I’ve still not come out about my other interests but well soon I’ll get up the courage. I’ve subsequently had the procedure done (again another experience) and things on the UI front have been very good, with things basically back to how to status quo ante (yup that’s Latin).
     
    All in all I went two months sharing the bed with him diapered every time. I wore every night following the procedure (and still had some wet nights and day time troubles), but things have gotten much better. I stopped wearing at night (at first on my own for a week to see how things were), mid-October and so far no problems. So now the only time I wear at night is when I want to (which is sadly when I’m alone) or if I’ve been drinking (when I’m usually not sharing the bed with my BF, though this has happened once so far).
     
    I hope you enjoyed it.
     
    Rachel
     
     
     
  4. Upvote
    MikeK reacted to rachelkirwan in Shyness as an ABDL (Seeking Advice)   
    🙋‍♀️ I'm right there with you hun. It can be hard, but there are good people out there. This was my experience with my husband:
     
     
  5. Upvote
    MikeK reacted to rachelkirwan in Sleeping in diapers   
    Thanks for sharing! This is really inreresting!
    Hehehe I've done this but then if I smoke more than a little bit, I'm bound to wake up wet too!
  6. hearts
    MikeK reacted to rachelkirwan in Wetting the Bed Again   
    Wetting the Bed Again
     
    So as I explained in previous posts (Leaking Again and Leaking Again II), my OAB symptoms started cropping up a handful of weeks ago. After these firs two initial public accidents I started taking regular precautions during the day, so that now, I wear a UI pad when I’m going out and about (which thanks to COVID is not all that often), and I’ve resigned myself to these pads being overwhelmed when I work out and just wear my black running skort that basically hides everything but telltale streaks down one’s legs. And one of the ‘perks’ of COVID and working from home is that when I do get a sudden urge, I can just pop up and rush off to the loo, which is maybe 20 paces from my desk. This doesn’t mean that I haven’t had a few odd leaks when my bladder does the whole key-in-latch thing and decides to squirt into my panties as I reach the bathroom door, but it does mean that I’ve mostly been making it to the loo on time when I do get sudden urges. I should add that these have been happening a little more often this week than say three weeks ago when I had my initial accident at the grocery story. It’s not as bad as say when I was in high school, or before my first Botox treatment, but it’s noticeable.
     
    I’d experienced a few random urges before that first accident at the grocery story, but I didn’t lend these much credence or significance until what happened next. So in addition to my daytime accident at work, I also had a couple of bedwetting incidents about three weeks ago that really clued me in to the fact that the OAB symptoms were back, and that I was going to have to start using protection more regularly (as well as the medication I’ve got squirreled away in my medicine cabinet).

    So a couple of night after the grocery store accident I went to bed late – I’m not the best with early bedtimes as many of you will know if you follow the odd hours when I post stuff on my Tumblr. It was hot in our bedroom despite a fan and our window being wide open. As a result, I opted to go to bed in nothing but a pair of comfortable panties. I chose a pair of Little Mermaid panties which many of you will have seen in my past adventures.
     


    Before going to sleep, I put down my purple Peepod pad. Now this was not some kind of prescience on my part, but rather, I was hoping to get laid. It was the weekend (Friday night to be precise), and I hoped to either have sex before bed or roll over onto my hubby in the morning. The pad, therefore was to make cleanup easier, as in either scenario I was likely to leak a bunch.
    Well evening sex did not happen – we were both too exhausted from the day of work and ended up watching TV shows until late. So I ended up curling up to sleep in my panties on the pad, which just to happened to be a very good, albeit unplanned, tactical move on my part.
    I drifted off to sleep, and the next thing I knew, I was awoken by a gentle nudge from my hubby. I was groggy and surprised by the fact that it was still dark out. He was kneeling in the bed.
     “Hun,” he mumbled gently, “I think you had an accident.”

    I went from groggy to slightly less than groggy quite quickly. I had not wet the bed with my hubby in it accidentally in quite a long time, and my brain, already clouded by sleep, was suddenly awash with a hundred thoughts and emotions at once. As a result, it took me a little while to orient myself, and my husband patiently waited for me to collect myself.

    I rolled off my belly and sat up. I felt the bed around me. I did not feel a large puddle, but when my hand moved towards my crotch I could feel a moderate puddle on the pad and the crotch of my panties was soaking wet with pee that was noticeably still warm. I could also feel the warm pee soaking into the bum of my panties.
    I mumbled something like “Oh.” And I moved out of the small puddle I had created to kneel on the pad. I felt a single bead of pee running inner thigh, gently cooling as it made its meandering way down.

    “Oh… um… I’m sorry,” I apologized. And continued to collect myself.
     “It’s ok, I um… shall we clean up and go back to sleep?” Asked my hubby, who sounded pretty tired as well.
    “Ah, yeah.” I said as I started shimmying down my panties. Having wet many a bed in my day I knew that if I stood up immediately I’d likely drip all over the carpet, and that was not something I wanted to clean up in my sleepy state. I conducted an awkward wiggle-shimmy motion and got myself out of my wet panties and padded down my bum, legs and vulva with a dry corner of the pad. I rolled the whole thing into a bundle and carried it over to the laundry on my way to the washroom. I sat on the toilet to pee, and managed to get out a couple of dribbles. I then wiped myself with toilet paper, before locating a pack of baby wipes I keep around to clean myself up a little. The wet material was cold against my girl parts, and I didn’t like the smell – allegedly lavender if the package is to be believed.

    Cleaned up, and slightly more awake than before, I headed back into the bedroom, my hubby had rolled over and was snoring softly. The fan had stopped (we have it on a timer) and it was considerably cooler in the room from when we went to bed, and I contemplated putting on a Goodnite. I groggily and clumsily located one from my diaper stash without turning on the lights, and took it back to the washroom to put it on (so I wouldn’t get it backwards and to apply some baby powder first).
    I headed back to bed and snuggled in to my husband as a diapered big spoon.
     

    Photos taken the next morning.
    -----
     The next morning we both got up late. Despite my late night bedwetting accident I was still keen on some morning sex, and it did not take too much coaxing to convince my husband to participate. Because we did not have a pad down, and because I was feeling naughty as hell, (perhaps my bedwetting accident had something to do with this), I whispered to my husband something like “Daddy, will you fuck me while I keep my diaper on?”

    He complied, rolling me onto my belly and pulling the gusset of my (dry) Goodnite to one side in order to enter me.
    It was a good thing I left the diaper on – I’ve been known to leak during sex in general, but the fact that I had not yet visited the washroom that morning meant that I had a bunch of morning pee in me. Perhaps not a full bladder’s worth, but enough to lead to some leaks.
     When we were finished, I cuddled into my husband, and oozed juices into a now wet Goodnite. It was an exquisite way to start my morning.
     Over breakfast, my husband explained that he’d been spooning me when he was awoken by a warm wet feeling on his leg. I apologized again for wetting the bed, but he was super sweet and said something to the effect that he knew what he was getting into. We did discuss my OAB a little and my upcoming appointment, and I mentioned that this could have been a one off, or it might become a little more regular in the coming month.
     My husband is used to me having the off bedwetting accident, especially when we’ve been hitting the sauce or pot a little too hard, and he’s a trooper.
     
     ------
     
    Anyhow, the next incident didn’t happen for about a week. It was still hot and so after the first accident, I decided that I would sleep on the Peepod pad for the next while (after laundering it of course, I did order a second one more recently so I would use them in rotation if need be).

    So every night I’d slip into a pair of panties (or wear the panties from that day), and curl up to sleep on my Peepod pad, I am not sponsored by them (though I wish I was as their pads are a little spendy) but they are great and it’s like sleeping on a towel, but one that can be relied upon to absorb over two full Rachel bladders worth of pee.

     This time, I woke up in the morning, groggier than normal, and laying on my belly in a decent-sized puddle.

     I had worn my grey Frozen Olaf panties to bed again.
     

    This puddle was a bit larger than the previous, and it seemed that I had emptied most of my bladder while I slept.
     

    And unlike the previous time, the pee (and my panties) were cold and wet when I woke up.

     

    My husband, who is much more of a morning person than I am, was already up and making tea when I awoke, and as the puddle was restricted to directly under and around me, I assumed he had not noticed. I was glad of this as while I have a complicated relationship with bedwetting I know he’s not into waking up in a puddle of someone else’s pee (or his own pee for that matter).
     
    I rolled over, stripped off my wet panties, and headed into the shower.
    Once properly woken up by the water, I snapped a few pictures for you lovely perverts before rolling up the pad and panties and popping them into the laundry.
    I hesitated before telling my husband that I had wet the bed over breakfast. I know it’s not my fault and I’ve had decades to get over my hang ups about bedwetting but I still get a huge flutter in my chest and an increased heart rate whenever I even mention bedwetting, let alone blurt out that I’d wet the bed over bagels and tea.
    I tried to be as matter of fact about the thing and my husband took it in stride, saying something like “I hadn’t noticed,” and “well I didn’t get wet.”  
    We went about our day and I slipped a pad into my panties for good measure before starting an hour long Zoom call for work.
     
    -----
     
    So as my Botox appointment approaches, I’ve been back to more assiduously following the recommendations of many of my urologists, going back to some of the lifestyle changes I adopted throughout my early life but had let lapse as my OAB symptoms came under control. Things like double voiding before bed, and avoiding liquids and caffeine before bed, avoiding certain foods, a taking medication (desmopressin at the moment).  
    It was still too hot to wear Goodnites to bed up until very recently, hotter than before actually, as our entire city was blanketed in smoke from the forest fires in Washington State and to keep the smoke out of our apartment we had our windows tightly closed for almost a week. 
    Before once again adopting the practice of wearing a diaper to bed, I had one more bedwetting accident. This was about a week ago, and there isn’t too much say other than that I once again woke up in a cold puddle.
     This time I wore a pair of purple Frozen Olaf panties to bed, and despite all my efforts, I peed the bed once more.
     

     The smoke finally cleared up a couple of days ago, and the weather has cooled, so I’m back to a regime of pulling on a Goodnite before bed.
     This is going to be the practice for at least the next three weeks as I’ve got my Botox injection on the 25th of September and it usually takes a couple of weeks to ‘kick in’ as it were. Also, the frequency at which I’m wetting the bed seems to have increased, despite my efforts.
    [Ran out of space, additional pictures follow]
     
     
     
  7. Upvote
    MikeK reacted to Emily Gold in How many people here are actually bedwetters?   
    High school was ok, as far as having to deal with bedwetting in it went. I couldnt really have sleepovers and stuff, but school trips were fine as i didnt really have the opportunity to go on any overnight ones. 
    I did date, but i didnt really get to the point where we were living with each other except with my current bf, who i worked up the courage to tell about 2 months into our relationship. He actually revealed that he had an omo fetish/incontinence fetish, and he helped encourage me to love it myself and now i love it as much as he does. 
    We have worked it into our relationship quite a bit by now, and it is awesome. I love him and it. 
  8. Upvote
    MikeK reacted to BedwetterStacy in How many people here are actually bedwetters?   
    I've been dry for only very brief periods in my life, but I always end up wetting the bed again.
    When I was about 12-16, I would wet the bed most of the time, but I would end up being dry for sometimes a month at once. Nowadays I wet nearly every night. I wear diapers to sleep, but I also use pee pads and a plastic sheet just in case. During the day I have control basically all the time, I just like to wear pullups and diapers for fun.
    I'm perfectly happy with wetting my bed, honestly. To me it just feels oddly right when I wake up and my diaper is wet. I'm sure many of you have had the exact same experience. Often, if I wake up dry, I decide to just wet my nighttime diaper anyway. I only end up changing out of it right away if it's truly soaked and can't hold anything more; often times I just use it until it's about to leak.
    Though bedwetting has been a fun thing for me for a while, it was a source of a lot of embarrassment, especially in high school when it started to get really bad. I felt a lot better about it once I graduated, and I'm glad that the few people that knew about my issues were really nice about it and didn't end up telling anyone.
  9. Upvote
    MikeK reacted to Emily Gold in How many people here are actually bedwetters?   
    I have wet the bed involuntarily almost my entire life (3+ days a week) and i have to say that now i like it. I used to hate it but there is no point hating what you cant fix right? Wetting the bed is lovely, as is wearing a diaper to bed, it is kinda freeing
     
     
  10. Upvote
    MikeK reacted to hahaeggy in Over 100 Rachelkirwan stories compliation!   
    In past about 17 hours I I rummaged ALL POST @rachelkirwan made, which is almost 10000 posts. Phew~
    I was looking for all story posted by her include one fiction and more then 100 experience, lots of the experience story is even longer than fiction!
    These story are just too good that I couldn't refrain myself from re-enjoy them again while I am doing this project!
    OK, let's get back to the point. I must be too tired now to focus on and I am still rewind 'a planned ultrasound accident' in my brain while typing...
    What I did in past 17 hours is search and collect all story her made ONE BY ONE BY HAND, plus some tiny edits include grammar & spelling(Ms. Kirwan I wasn't mean your story contain lots error, in fact I just found less than 15 grammar in all stories), font adjustment as well as rotation of some pics. And compile them into THREE different books (pants&panties, pads&diapers and bed wetting). Export them as EPUB.
    The rule of sorting:
    1. One story will not appear in multiple books
    2. Pants&panties compilation contain wetting without pads, diapers and bed wetting, but period pad is acceptable.
    3. No special rules for the rest two collection.
    Volume of books:
    The pants&panties compilation contain 68,199 words, 40MB
    The pad&diaper compilation contain 107,899 words, 62MB
    The bed wetting compilation contain 11,636 word, 13.7MB
    Explanation of signs:
    The title of story include '(🎇)' means this story contain picture/s, and you could directly see them inside the file
    The title of story include '(📹)' means this story contain video/s, and you could click the link inside to download them here in her original post
    To Ms.Kirwan: I am sorry I did this prior your authorization, if you think it's okay please tell me and I will post these books here and Apple Books as well. In view of the typesetting and collective arrangement I did remove some link of your store from some stories, however, I did made a editor note at the beginning of each books that include your link. Hope you don't mind this. BTW do you have any special plan for your upcoming 10000th post?
    If books success be posted:
    Guys, I need you help find out if there's any story (no matter what the length is) missing or any error or mismatching or misroute in this collection. Thank you!
    I don't know how to operate Lighrroom or photoshop so the cover in books might be blur or has an incongruous hue. I am appreciate if someone help me enhance the pictures.
    Covers of these books:



    Phew~ sleeping time💤 See U~
    P.S.     R.I.P to me if I undergo a sudden death during sleeping.
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