Search the Community

This is my first story I’ve written here. This part contains desperation and wetting. Future parts will have messing and diapers. Part 1 Hi, I’m an 18 year old boy in my final year of High School. Anyway, I’m not here to describe myself all that much because I think it’s my twin sister, Sarah’s story that you’ll want to read. My sister and I are in the same year in school but hang around with friendship groups that are worlds apart. She’s in the stereotypical popular girl group which has led to my far less popular and thus considerably less attractive friends relentlessly teasing me over all the things they’d love to do to my sister. Even though she’s my sister, and I’ll never be sexually or romantically attracted to her, Sarah is clearly the most attractive girl in the school. She’s about 5ft 6 with wavy, dirty blonde hair, green eyes and a great body with perfect proportions everywhere that mattered. Although she’s my twin, we look nothing alike. Im 6ft 1 with black hair and blue eyes and I would say I’m pretty average looking. It was nice of her to take all the good genes! Despite us being opposites in looks, we actually get on really well with each other. We tell each other everything and pretty much always sit next to each other on the bus to and from school. The start of this story takes place on one pretty fateful bus journey home. It had been a fairly average Friday at school, grey, rainy clouds in the sky and I couldn’t wait to just get home. I was sitting on the bus wondering where Sarah was. Just a minute before the bus left, I saw Sarah get on. She hobbled down to the back of the bus looking for where I was and sat down next to me once she found me. Something wasn’t right with her. “What’s wrong with you?” I asked, cutting right to the chase as we always did with each other. “Sorry! I wanted to go to the ladies before we left but it was too busy. I’m bursting to go to the toilet,” she said, shaking her right leg up and down. The conversation ended pretty quickly after that and I stared out the window on the way home trying not to focus on her shaking. 5 minutes away from home though, I couldn’t ignore it anymore. She was clearly desperate, more desperate than I had ever seen anyone before. “Do you think you can hold it?” “Not for much longer,” Sarah said with tears clearly forming her eyes and sweat on her brows. Shortly after that, the bus arrived at our stop and we were the only people to get off. Our house was about a 2 minute walk from here but I could tell this was going to be a struggle. We walked (Sarah was speed walking) in silence until she quickly said “I’m gonna sprint home. Spurts are already coming out!” She sprinted ahead and just as she was out of sight I suddenly came to a sickening realisation: I had our only key! I took off after her as fast as I could. I really wanted her to make it. There was no telling what Mom would do if she saw Sarah had wet herself. Once I reached the house, I knew I was too late. Sarah was standing in the garden, looking down while facing the house but I could see the bum of her light blue jeans darken at a rapid rate. She was helplessly peeing herself. As she was doing that, I walked past her and opened the door. I turned around and saw her crying her eyes out. I felt so bad for her. At least she had peed standing over the already wet grass so no one would see an oddly placed wet spot on the ground. “Come on, let’s go in and you can clean up before Mom gets back,” I said sympathetically while ushering Sarah into the house. “Oh God!” She said through her tears. “I can’t have her find out about this. She’ll give me a crazy, awful punishment that no normal parent would give their child. Just like she does whenever we do anything wrong,” Sarah continued. As I was about to shut the door, we heard the all too familiar sound of Mom’s SUV pulling into the driveway. This was going to be BAD for both of us, not just Sarah because usually Mom’s punishments impact the two of us. —————————————————————— I hope that was enjoyable. Please let me know if you want part 2!

Hey Guys I want to make a thread for pictures of girls who have wet through their diapers into their pants! I really like this sort of thing but I haven't seen more than maybe two pictures ever so if you guys could help me out that would be so awesome :) After a bit of looking I found one to start off the thread with :)

Reader warning: This chapter contains a young Claire dealing with budding lust and struggling to repress those naughty feelings. While future chapters may contain similar content, Clair will be older in them. Clair was lying in bed staring at the ceiling. Had she gone too far with mom? She knew she had been meaning to mom and that made her feel bad, but she hated wearing diapers. She hated all babyish things. She would be a teenager soon, what was mom thinking, diapers in the car? She was not Emily, who had more accidents than anyone could count. OK, that was mean. Emily had accidents, a lot, but she was about the sweetest little sister you could ask for, and pretty too. Many of her friends had sisters Emily’s age, but most were intolerable to be around and the ones that were OK, being sweet was about all they had going for them. Emily really was a great little sister. Then Claire’s mind snaps back to the diaper thing. God what if she did have an accident. Three weeks in diapers. She would be like Sarah. Mom changing her, eww. And what about Brad? That cute guy she had met last summer at the marina. He said his family had just gotten a house that summer. She did not see him until the last day of last year. But she was hoping to run into him early this summer, so they could hang out some. If she was in diapers that would be out of the question. What would he say if he found out? Then the answer was clear! She had already won! Tonight, when they’d gotten home she had reminded mom that the van was down to a ¼ tank. The van could do just over 3 hours on a tank of gas, but on a ¼ tank, she only had to wait about an hour in her diaper. Smile crept across her face. She had won. No more diapers ever! As Claire drifted off to sleep, she thought back to her last struggle with diapers. She never understood why Emily still let mom diaper her for bed. By nine Claire was so embarrassed by the nightly diaper ritual, she had demanded Goodnites and insisted on changing herself before bed. But once Claire had turned 10 this was not a solution anymore. She did not want to wet the bed like a baby. She had been in big girl panties for years. --------------- Claire had talked to mom and convinced her to let Claire wear cotton training panties at night, with a waterproof sheet on the bed. Her theory was that since the Goodnites kept her feeling warm and dry during the night, she would never wake up to pee. Mom agreed. The first few nights were a disaster. While the training panties were absorbent, they held very little compared to a diaper. A few times, Claire woke up midway through peeing the bed and these were the worst nights. Claire would wake to the sensation of a warm puddle spreading around her bottom and thighs, and of course the sensation of peeing. More upsetting still, even if Claire was awake, her bladder was not. All she could do was slow down the flow and piddle herself like a baby. She would lay in bed, crying as she pissed herself. After about five nights, mom had come to her before bed. “Honey, I really appreciate how hard you are trying to not wet the bed, but things do not seem to be improving. Every night we wake up hearing our oldest daughter crying and it breaks our hearts.” Claire was distraught, but she knew mom was right. Mom continued, “Also, remaking your bed at 3:00 AM every night is really taking its toll on your father and me.” Then an idea popped in Claire’s head. “3:00 AM? Always at 3:00 AM?” “Um, yes. Your father has even started calling it his 3:00 AM wakeup call.” “So never before 2:45?” “Yes, why?” “OK mom, let me try one more night. But tonight I will set the alarm to 2:45.” “Well why not one or two and make sure you’re able to make it”. Claire may have agreed, except mom implied that she could not make it if she waited until 2:45. She did not wet her panties when she was awake, well not that anyone noticed. However, she knew this argument would hold little water with mom. “Well if I wake up and pee at 2:45 I should be able to make it until morning. But, if I wake up at one I may just wet the bed later.” While it was hard to admit she may wet again later in the night, it was better than agreeing she might pee herself while she was awake. “OK, get ready for bed and I will come tuck you in. Be sure to wear training panties just in case.” Claire got ready for bed. She changed into a short cami. When she opened her underwear drawer, her big girl panties caught her eye. If she had not agreed to wear training panties, she would have worn a pair of big girl panties to bed tonight. As she pulled her training panties up her legs she cringed when the padded crotch pressed into her mound. Well, one last night she thought. She called her mom as she got into bed, that familiar bulk between her legs reminded her, even at 10, she was not a big girl. Mom helped her set her alarm to 2:45 AM and kissed are good night. When Claire’s alarm went off, her first instinct was to grab her crotch. It was dry! Then she slipped her hand into her training panties, which made her blush. Mom had told her girls did not touch down there, unless it was to clean up. As her hand slid down the front of her training panties, her middle finger inadvertently slid between her lips. Her hand felt warm, but her middle finger almost felt hot. Her training panties were completely dry! Then it happened. With her hand still in her training panties, she felt her bladder spasm. She immediately pressed against her pee hole and she felt her muscles down their contract. She fought off the first spasm, but she was not sure what to do. She had one hand in her training panties and the other trying to disabled the alarm. Once the alarm was off, she tried to move. She did not want to remove her hand for fear of peeing right in the bed. Suddenly another spasm hit her. She fought it with all her strength, but as the spasm subsided, she felt a little dribble escape past her finger and trickled down her cleft. She shuddered with disgust. Here she was, fully awake, in her bed, piddling into training panties, her training panties. She had to get out of bed, no matter what. With her finger firmly pressed against her pee hole, she threw the covers back. It was a cool night and the thin short cami did little to keep the chill off her body. As soon as she felt the chill, her bladder spasmed hard. A spurt of pee shot around her finger and into her training panties, followed by a constant dribble. Knowing her training panties would not hold much, Claire decided to make a mad dash to the potty. As soon as she jumped out of bed her bladder sent spurt after spurt of hot piss into her training panties. She made it out of her bedroom before the training panties started leaking onto the floor. Claire ran to the bathroom and hopped on the potty. She did not even try to pull her training panties down. As soon as her bottom hit the cool toilet seat her spurts turned into a constant stream, flooding past her finger. The flood rapidly filled her training panties. So when Claire removed her hand, it was soaked in urine. Claire began to cry. This was to be her big night, no more diapers forever. Here she sat on the toilet in her sodden training panties, hand covered in piss. While her bladder has finished emptying, her overflowing training panties still were releasing a steady stream of urine into the toilet. Mom woke up to the sound of her oldest order crying for the sixth night in a row. But as she headed down the hall to Claire’s room, something caught her eye. The hall night light illuminated droplets of liquid going from Claire’s room to the bathroom and the sound of crying was coming from the bathroom. On her way to the bathroom, she looked in Claire’s room and noticed no droplets there. As she rushed down the hall, she saw Claire sitting on the toilet in her soaked training panties, crying her eyes out. Claire had one hand keeping the hem of her cami from getting wet and the other hand outstretched away from herself. “Claire, what happened?” mom asked. She wanted to comfort Claire, but knew from past experience Claire had a line that separated help and comfort from being babied and babying her may just upset her more. “I… I woke up. An… And I was dry. But started… I… I started to pee.” Claire sobbed. “I tried to get out of bed but… I… The cold air… Ran down the hall… Tried to stop peeing… Hand in the naughty place… Flooded training panties when sat on the toilet… I… Hand… Covered in pee.” Mom gather what had happened. Claire woke up and her plan worked, but she had an accident when getting out of bed. She knew this may have upset Claire even more, as she would consider this having an accident. Over Claire’s soft sobs, mom heard another sound. There was a dripping noise coming from the toilet. Was Claire still trying desperately holding on and slowly leaking? “Claire, what is dripping? Do you still need to pee?” Claire realized mom must think she was still having an accident. She started sobbing loudly. All mom understood was, “no… Flooded… Training panties… Soaked… Stuck on toilet… Dripping.” Then Claire began crying uncontrollably. She lowered her head and covered her face with one arm, the other arm still outstretched away from her. Mom ran some warm water and wet a hand towel. She washed Claire’s outstretched hand, assuming that she must have peed on it while holding herself. Claire sobbing seem to subside. After Claire’s hand was clean, mom asked, “Honey, do you want to stand up?” “I can’t… Might get pee on the floor.” Claire’s mom tried not to laugh. Maybe Claire did not know that she had left a trail from her room to the bathroom and there was already a puddle in front of the toilet. Mom decided it was better not to mention the trail. “It’s OK, we can clean it up, but we need to get you cleaned up.” Claire looked up at her mom, blushed and nodded. Claire held the hem of her cami as mom helped her off the toilet. As Claire stood up, a stream of pee ran down the inside of each leg. She cringed at the feeling, but let her mom help her up. “Claire, do you want to take your panties off or can I help you?” Claire just looked at her mom, then the ground and begin blushing furiously still holding the hem of her cami. Knowing Claire was too embarrassed to ask for help, mom knelt down in front of Claire and slowly lowered her sodden training panties down her slender pee streaked legs. Claire shuddered as the cool air brushed up against her warm wet crotch. Thankfully, she thought, at least she was empty and the cool air did not make her pee again. “Left foot… now right foot,” said mom, helping Claire step out of her training panties. As Claire silently followed mom’s instructions, Claire’s mind was in whir. Here she was, 10 years old, standing half naked in front of her mom, while her mom helped her change out of a pair of training panties that she had soaked while she was awake. She did not want to look like a baby, but all she wanted to do was put this night behind her and go back to bed. So for the first time in years, Claire let her mom take care of her. “Honey, do you want to take a bath or shower?” Mom was surprised when Claire just shook her head. So mom asked, “Do you want me to clean you up?” Claire blush furiously and gave an almost imperceivable nod. Mom rinsed out the washcloth and got it nice and warm. She was happy that Claire was letting her help, but this was so unusual for Claire that mom was worried. As Claire stood there in the middle of the bathroom, legs slightly spread, she watch mom rinse out the rag. The cool sticky feel of pee drying on her mound, and the occasional whiff of urine, reminded her why she hated not being able to control such a basic part of her life. She did well in school, had lots of friends, none of whom know about “this”, and her parents considered her very responsible. Why couldn’t she control her bladder? She could manage during the day. She always went to the bathroom between class breaks and after lunch, she always made sure to note where the nearest bathroom was when she was out, and she always went pee before she left the house. Mom, walking back over to her with the washcloth, broke her train of thought. She watched as mom knelt down in front of her. When mom asked her to spread her legs she felt her face grow hot with a blush. Claire complied and bend her knees slightly to make her mom’s job easier. As she bent her knees, she felt her lips, till now stuck together with her dried pee peal open, exposing her even more and as her nethers grew a little cooler, her face grew a lot hotter. Then the warm washcloth warmed her crotch. While the feel of the warm washcloth was similar to her freshly wet training panty and she felt very babyish for letting her mom clean her, anything was better than the feel of cool, sticky urine between her legs. In fact this warm wetness felt good. As she relaxed and mom continued to clean her, she began to feel a funny tingle between her legs, especially when mom would clean near her pee hole. At first the feeling relaxed Claire, but then, was she supposed to feel this? Mom had said this was a naughty place, so a good feeling from a naughty place must be bad. Claire tried not to think about the feeling and fixed her eyes on the far wall. Claire’s rigid stare did not relax until she felt mom clean her legs. “OK, all clean, let’s get you back to bed.” Claire finally lowered her cami and let mom lead her back to bed. On the way back, Claire noticed they were walking to one side of the hall. When Claire looked down she saw the trail of droplets leading to her room. She hid her face against her mom in shame, until she got back to her room. When they were back in Claire’s room, mom sat her on the edge of her bed and went to get a pair of her panties. “Claire…um, what too you want to…put on?” Clair did not know how to respond. She felt like a little girl that could not make it to the potty. Maybe she needed diapers. Could she even make it till morning without an accident? Mom thought about a pull up, but as Claire never wet after this time of night and sense she wanted to boost Claire’s self-esteem, she chose a pair of pink big girl panties with a penguin on the front. Claire looked in surprise. Mom was going to let her where big girl panties to bed? She had even thought to ask for a pull up, since she felt like such a baby. “Um mom, but I had an accident.” “Yes, but you did not wet the bed.” Until now Claire had not noticed that the trail of droplets stopped, or rather started, at the door to her room and her bed was dry. She had done it, sort of, she did not wet the bed and mom was letting her where big girl panties to bed for the first time! Claire still was upset about her accident and she was not free of bed wetting like she had planned, but maybe she was getting there. Mom notice Claire’s normal cheerful and confident demeanor return a little. When she came over to Claire with big girl panties she asked Claire, “Can I help you?” Claire smiled and nodded. She let her mom slipped her panties over her feet and then stood up so her mom could slide them up her legs and onto her hips. It felt a little weird to let someone put panties on her. Even after wetting the bed, she always cleaned and changed herself. As the thin material cradled her soft lips Clair felt a bit better. Mom had finally put her in big girl panties to go to bed. As Claire laid down and her mom tucked her in, she said, “Thanks mom. I know I get mad when you help me sometimes, but I just want to be more like an adult and I hate feeling like a baby.” “Sweetie, it’s OK. Your father and I think you are a very responsible young lady,” mom said a she tucked Claire in and kissed her on the forehead. Mom left and turned out the light. As Claire turned on her side, between her legs felt funny. She had never slept without any padding between her legs. She slid her hand over her tummy to feel her panties. They were the same as what she wore during the day, but somehow they felt different now that she had them on at night. As she felt her big girl panties on her crotch that funny tingle started to come back. She blushed and took her hand from between her legs. She tried to focus her thoughts on how great it felt to not have padding between her legs while she sleep. The thought reassured her, it was a disastrous night, but she did not wet the bed for the first time ever and she was going to sleep in big girl panties. As she drifted off to sleep she felt the funny tingle was still there. When Claire woke up at her usual and responsible 7:00 AM, the first thing she noticed was she fell like she was not dressed. The familiar warm bulk was not between her legs. Then she remember mom let her where big girl panties to bed after her…after last night’s unpleasantness. The next thing she was aware of was her bladder singing warning signs. And yes she did make a dash to the bathroom, and she did have one hand buried in her crotch, and if the bathroom had been locked she would have completely flooded her big girl panties. When she got to the toilet she snatched down her her big girl panties and sat. She immediately began to pee. While she hated the fact that she had little bladder control when she actually sat on the toilet, this was just one unpleasantness of life she did her best to ignore. As she relaxed on the toilet, letting her bladder void, all she could do was stair at the crotch of her light blue big girl panties. They were dry, she kept them dry! Then she blushed in the horrible realization that at 10 years old she should be so proud of her panties being dry. But she finally knew how to stop wetting the bed. It was going to be a lot of work, but she knew how. The next night she put on a fresh pair of training panties and made sure her alarm was set. She did not wear her light cami as usual, she wore a big sweatshirt that came down below the waist of her training panties. She knew that she needed to get out of bed and to the bathroom as quickly as possible. She would not even turn off the alarm. It was the cold and her not immediately rushing to the bathroom that got her last night and tonight when she got up, she would stay nice and warm and not dawdle. She drifted off to sleep with a smile on her face. When her alarm when off, the first thing she was aware of was the fullness in her bladder, the next was the first spasm as her bladder also awoke. All she needed to do now was hurry to the potty. She threw back her covers and felt the cool air rush up her legs, her bladder gave another light spasm, but she clenched hard and did not leak. Then she jumped out of bed….”Trampoline, always pee before you get on the trampoline” was her only thought as her body to the shock of hitting the floor. As impact of the floor drove her distended bladder down she could feel her bladder being to leak. As hard as Claire squeezed her legs together and grabbed her crotch the little trickle of pee would not stop. Then her bladder, feeling relief, contracted again, sending a little spurt into her training panties. Claire’s lips not only felt warm but we’re getting damp as the training panty reached its limit. Claire knew she was fighting a losing battle, so she ran to the bathroom as quickly as she could, with one hand clasped against the crotch of her training panties. The whole way down the hall she felt spurts and dribbles coming out from between her lips. By the time she was about halfway down the hall, her fingers started to get wet, and by the time she got to the toilet, her training panties were soaked. Pee was trickling down her fingers and little runner had started down her right leg. Like the night before, she sat on the toilet and her bladder immediately flooded her training panties. While she was again helplessly wetting herself like a little baby, her eyes noticed something on the sink. There was a pair of big girl panties, a washcloth, and a note from mom. She could not read the note from where she sat, but the thought offered a brief distraction from her current situation. As she sat on the toilet, her crotch wrapped in warm piss soaked cotton and the runner of pee cooling on her leg, she noted that the pee drops tonight did not start until she was most of the way down the hall. Now this only meant her training panties were working until then, but is was measurable progress. She thought about what to do next. Her trainers were too wet to put in the laundry, she would have to wring them out and rinse them, but they were still dripping into the toilet. And her alarm was still ringing! She cringed as she grabbed the crotch of her training panties and quickly squeezed piss out of them. . When she did the sodden training panties gushed urine into the toilet, as she had planned. However, some of the pee was forced back into her vagina. Claire shuddered and she felt the still warm pee spurt back up into her. Claire thought with disgust, “Well, I finally found something grosser than wetting myself. It was gross to feel a diaper fill with hot piss and cover her mound when she wet herself, but it was absolutely disgusting to feel warm piss force it way back up between her lips and start to fill her down there, then fell the piss flow back out when she relaxed the grip on her crotch.” When Claire relaxed her grip on the crotch of her training panties, it stopped dripping. Claire use some toilet paper to wipe off urine droplets that sprayed onto her thighs and exposed butt. Then she got up and went to the sink. When she got there she took off the yellowed, wet, rapidly cooling training panties and place them in the sink. Once her trainers were in the sink, her mound and butt were beginning to feel sticky, cold, and even grosser. She padded them dry with toilet paper and ran down the hall to finally turn off her alarm. As she then returned to the bathroom she noted how odd is was to wear no panties, her sweatshirt did not go much below her waist so as she walked the air blew between her legs. If anyone were up she would feel very exposed, but now she just wanted to clean up and get back to bed. First she cleaned up the floor with toilet paper then she began running warm water into the sink. That is when she finally read the note from her mom. “I know that you like to feel independent, so I took the liberty of laying you out some of your panties so you can change. Going to leave the washcloth here just in case my big girl needs it. – love mom. PS. If anything is wet just leave it in the sink.” She turned on the water and got it nice and warm. After rinsing her trainers and wringing them out the best she could she put them in the laundry hamper. No need to make any more work for mom. She wet the hand towel and begin to clean herself. She cleaned her thighs and butt. Each time the towel approached her crotch she began to get a tingling sensation, similar to when her mom was cleaning her last night. As she began to clean her crotch, the warm rag moved across her mound she decided she would clean it well inside too. She rinsed the rag out and pressed it against her lips. As the warm wash cloth pressed into her she closed her eyes slightly and she rubbed the hand towel up and down her mound. Then her middle finger began to slide the warm damp rag into her slit. As she cleaned herself the tingling got stronger, she felt naughty but she really wanted to be clean. The tingles continued to grow until her knees started to feel weak and her free hand was gripping the edge of the sink for support. She needed to stop, but it felt so good. If she could just stop moving her hand, then she became aware that it was not just her hand that was betraying her, her hips were rocking too. She was being a really bad girl and knew it, but she could not stop. As she kept rubbing her slit the washcloth seem to get warmer and damper, her hips began to rock faster, and her mind became fuzzy. She became only aware of that wonderful feeling growing from between her legs as she continued to grind herself against the towel. “Honey, are you OK?” Claire spun around hand towel still firmly pressed between her legs. Had mom seen her, oh God how would she have looked? Her butt, sticking out from under the hem of her sweatshirt, rocking up and down. But mom was not yet in the hall. She tossed the towel in the sink. “I…I am OK mom, just have to clean up a little. I did better tonight, but did not quite make it,” Claire responded, noting her voice sounded a little odd. As her mom came into the hall she said, “OK, I just heard the water running for a while so I thought I would make sure you did not need any help.” “No just finishing up,” as she wrung out the hand towel, tossed it in the hamper, washed her hands, and turned off the water. As she walked back to her room she fell both embarrassed and silly. Her mom was still in the hall and she knew her sweatshirt was not hiding anything, but her mom had cleaned her up down there just the night before. “Night sweetheart,” mom told her as she hugged her by the shoulder and kissed the side of her head. “Night mom.” , slipped on a fresh pair of panties and got in bed. As she drifted off to sleep she formed her plan for the following night. Don’t jump out of bed. The heat and tingles between Claire’s legs were fading but we’re still very noticeable as Claire returned to her room. Claire stopped at her dresser and slipped on her big girl panties. As Claire’s panties pressed up against her mound the warmth and tingling stop fading. As she walked back to her bed, she noticed that even the little her panties moved as she walked seem to wake up the tingles. As she get in bed, she had to fight the urge to let her hand slide down between her legs. “This must be why mom told me it was so naughty, once I started I can barely keep my hands out of my crotch,” Claire thought. She placed her hands under her pillow and decided never to touch herself like that again. As she drifted off to sleep she formed her plan for the following night. Don’t jump out of bed. The next night went about the same way. She woke up to her alarm, her bladder greeted her with a sharp pang. She gently slipped out of bed, when her bare feet pressed on the cold floor a shiver went up her legs and stopped right in her crotch, causing her to start to dribble. “Not again tonight,” she thought as she doubled over with effort and stemmed the flow. She did not bother to check the damage and quickly made her way to the toilet. About two thirds of the way there her bladder began to get excited and shot a short little spurt into her training panties, she clenched hard and managed to all but stop peeing. As she took the last few steps she was aware that a small trickle of urine was still flowing from between her lips, but she was at the toilet. Claire spun around and slid her trainers down as she sat. Immediately she was aware of two things, the cold air against her wet mound and her total loss of control as torrent of piss erupted from between her folds and sprayed into the toilet. Thankfully she was over the toilet, she had perfected this move years ago when she was younger and had more close calls. As she sat and enjoyed sweet relief, she examined the crotch of the trainers. Yes, they were more than damp, soaked, maybe, but not leaking and as she examined the floor, she noted not one drop. After she finished peeing she dropped her sodden training panties into the sink, turned on the water, and walked back to her room to turn off the alarm. When she got back to the bathroom she found a note and two items tonight. “Thought you could use both of these tonight. Love mom.” Under the note was a fresh pair of panties and a hand towel. She blushed bright red at both walking around without panties last night and … what she had done with the hand towel last night. While her mind was mortified at the latter she felt a warm tingle from between her legs. She tried to ignore it as she wet the towel and tersely wiped herself clean. She dried herself with toilet paper and slipped on the fresh pair of panties. She then rinse and wrung out her trainers and washed her hands before returning to bed. As she walked down the hall she searched proudly for pee droplets and found none. She climbed into bed and thought, “socks, I will wear socks tomorrow night.” She was comforted by this though, but unsettled by another. Between her legs was still warm and tingly. First her hand was playing with the hem of her sweatshirt, then waist of her panties. It was not until her fingertips were slipping into her panties she realized what she was doing. She wanted to touch down there and the more she thought about it the more warm and tingly she got. She was being a naughty girl. Mom had said not to touch herself. She then reached up and grabbed her pillow with both hands and gripped it tightly. She just needed to sleep and the naughty feeling would go away. She drifted off to sleep as the tingles subsided. The next night as Clair slipped on her training panties and remembered her socks. Her mom had also gotten her another alarm that only went off for a minute so she did not have to worry about turning it off. That night Claire went to bed knowing she would not wet the bed. It was just a question of how damp her training panties would be when she got to the toilet. When her alarm went off, Claire fought off the first bladder spasm with success, she slipped out of bed and made her way down the hall. She was out the door and partway down the hall before her bladder spasmed. She crossed her legs and doubled over, trying to fight to maintain control. As she was frozen and bent over she felt herself piddle just a little before the spasm subsided. She had leaked a little bit but she had stopped it. As she hurried the rest of the way to the toilet, she felt a few more little spurts escape. Once she got to the toilet she again clenched hard, determined not to pee when the cool air slipped between her legs. As she slipped her training panties down and begin to sit the cool air brushing passed her damp vagina was too much and she begin to leak. Claire knew a little stream was dribbling out from between her folds but she did the best she could to hold on, until her pee hit the water in the toilet bowl. The sound was too much and she lost all control just before her bottom made contact with the toilet seat. As Claire waited for her bladder to finish voiding and relinquish control. She examined the damage to her training panties. The crotch was yellow and damp, but she had not leaked again tonight. While it was way more than what her big girl panties could adsorb, she figured with a little more practice she would be ready to try a whole night in big girl panties. When she was done peeing, she wiped herself off with toilet paper, took off her training panties, and walked to the sink. She placed her training panties in the hamper. Again her mom had left her a hand towel and a fresh pair of big girl panties. She washed her hands and slipped on the clean panties. When she glanced at the washcloth that was beside the sink she smiled, she would leave it folded up for mom to find the morning. Then she blushed when she remember what she had done with the washcloth two nights before and her crotch got warm and tingly. She blushed hotter, quickly looked away, and went back to bed. She had made sure to leave the hand towel just as her mom left it, so her mom would know she did not need it. Claire cleaned herself off with toilet paper, tossed her trainers in the hamper, and went to the sink. Over the next week, Claire made progress. Her trainers were never dry once she made it to the toilet some nights only a dribble escaped before she got them down. The worst accident she had that week was one night her thumb missed the waist of her training panties and she let out a long spurt before she could get them down. The last few nights she managed to get to the toilet with only a few dribbles. The she decided, damp big girl panties were better than mostly dry trainers. The next night she put on a pair of thin white cotton panties. The material was so thin that all but the crotch was see through. She also wore one of her usual sweatshirts, but tonight’s was a little short, only coming to her waist. “A little bold she thought, but no little girl would dare where these to bed,” she thought whit a grin. As she lay done she blushed with the thought that these panties were almost like wearing nothing down there to bed compared to what she had always worn before. When her alarm when off she threw back her covers with zeal, excited about her imminent victory. Then two things happened in rapid succession. First, her bladder gave its wakeup spasm. Then, while she was struggling to keep control a cool breeze rushed up her legs and right through her big girl panties. The thin cotton did little to keep her neither regions warm. As her lips rapidly cooled she begin losing her battle. First it was just a little trick bubbling from between her lips and running down her slit, but no matter how hard she clenched she could not stop it. The thin gusset of her panties grew warm and wet almost right away and a slow dribble began to run down her bottom and make an all too familiar pool. She grabbed her crotch with both hands, working her fingers deep into her soft folds, trying to stem the flow. She was able to stop long enough to get out of bed, but as soon as she was standing up she started leaking again. Then her bladder contracted again. This time, with her big girl panties already soaked with pee, the spurt streamed down her legs and sprayed through her gusset onto the floor. Claire rammed her hands deeper into her crotch and she sunk down on her knees. She struggled to regain control, but it was not meant to be. Every time she stopped leaking her bladder sent a fresh little spurt of pee through her panties. Each time a she regained control it felt like her hand was pulled up into her body. But then the next spasmed would push it out again. After what fell like several minutes of fighting little spurts of urine that simply cascaded over her hands and dripped onto the wood floor or ran down her legs, the spurts subsided. Not sure if she had stopped peeing or was sill slowly leaking, she ran down the hall as best she could with both hands crammed between her legs. About half way down the hall, she lost. She froze in the hall as pee just began to flow out over her hands and pool on the floor. It fell like all her muscles down there were still tight but the pee just kept coming out. Here she was, again wetting the floor like a little girl, no a baby, piss running down her legs and dripping from her knuckles. As her pool grew, she felt her socks grow warm and wet. When she could move again, she got to the toilet and just sat. It was the first time she could remember sitting on the toilet and tom immediately peeing. She sobbed quietly at her abject defeat. So much to clean up and such a total failure. Then her sadness turned to anger, with herself. How could she have overlooked the cold air again? Every night before her crotch had always been well padded and kept warm by the thick material, and sometimes a little warm pee. But whenever she pulled down her trainers the cool air almost always caused her to leak, at least a little. Then it dawned on her, pants! She had some warm pants that she could wear to bed tomorrow night. As she contemplated her next step in her conquest of her diapers, Claire slipped off her soaked and rapidly cooling, big girl panties, tossed them in the sink, and did the best she could to wipe up the sticky mess between her legs. Once she was no longer dripping wet down there, she when into the hall to get a towel. Dhr dried her bed as best she could. She wiped up the puddles on the floor, including her sock prints. Then she wrapped her panties in the towel and went back to the restroom. Her mom had left her a spare pair of panties with a note. “I know you probably will not need them, but just in case. -Love mom.” Claire close the door and start crying. She felt she let her mom down. She knew she had let herself down. She started running some warm water in the sink and looked for a washcloth, but when she saw the washcloth she blushed. The memory of what she had done two months before rush back to her and that warm tingly feeling returned as if her crotch longed for the washcloth. Claire turn off the sink and decided to take a shower. The warm water felt really good. As the water ran through Claire’s jet black hair and over her fair, thin body, she thought back over the last two months. She sat on the floor of the shower, arms wrapped around her knees, and began to cry. She had worked so hard to stop wetting the bed, but after two months here she was, bed wet, floor wet, and she may have ruined a pair of panties. About that time there was a soft knock on the door. Claire thought it was her mom so she sobbed, “Come in.” It was not her mom that came through the door, but her little sister Emily. Claire was surprised but not upset. She could see Emily was wearing a long pink princess t-shirt with a wet diaper drooping below the hemline. “What are you doing up?” Claire asked, her voice still breaking. “Oh, I heard the shower and wondered what was wrong. Emily’s room was right by the bathroom. Claire thought she must have woken her up. “Claire are you OK?” “I just had an accident and wet the bed. I thought I’d finally stopped.” Claire tried not to act upset. Although it was a little easier to tell a girl in full diaper that she wet the bed than tell her mom. “Um… Well I could wash your hair and back if it would make you feel better.” Claire was always very private about her body and normally did not let anyone see her naked. But to have someone wash her back and hair did sound very relaxing. Claire agreed and what happened next shocked her. Emily took off her nightshirt and diaper, put her diaper in the trash can, and hopped in the shower with Claire. For a moment Claire smelled a whiff of urine, but once Emily rinsed off it was gone. As Emily shampooed Claire’s long black hair, they talked. “Claire why is it so important to stop wetting the bed? You can just wear a diaper like me.” Claire did not want to offend Emily, who’s always kind to her, but the thought of anyone wearing a diaper, beside a baby, was gross. So she said, “Um, well I don’t really like wearing a diaper and I guess it’s kind of a controlled thing. I don’t want to need a diaper every night and I want to be able to take care of myself.” “Well… but don’t you like it when mom takes care if you. I… Kind of like it when mom diapers me at night.” “I think we’re just different. While I love mom and appreciate how she takes care of us, I just get a better feeling when I take care of myself.” “I guess that sounds more adult, but I kinda like…” Emily trailed off with a blush. “Oh never mind, you can rinse hair out now.” After Claire rinsed her hair, Emily washed her back and then played in the water while Claire finished washing herself. “Emily I’m done, you want me to wash your hair?” “No, but… Can you… um… Dry me off and diaper me?” This was one of the few times that Claire ever saw Emily blush. “Um, sure let me just grab a towel,” Claire blushed a little herself at the request, especially at the thought of diapering her little sister. Claire open the door to the shower and grabbed one of the big fluffy towels hanging on the wall. She wrapped it around her sister shoulders, then grabbed one for herself and wrapped it around her own shoulders. She first dried Emily’s hair, which did not take very long as Emily’s hair was only shoulder length. She then dried Emily’s body and arms and blushed as she got down on her knees. She then dried Emily’s legs and then made to stand up. Emily saw that her big sister was about to get up and said, “Um Claire, I’m still wet down there, mommy normally dryers me off between my legs too.” Claire felt her face turn red with a hot blush, “Ah, OK. Can you spread your legs a little bit then?” As Emily spread her legs to let Claire finished drying her off, Claire tried to not think about what she was doing. Claire first reach around and dried off Emily’s bottom and then put the towel over one hand and gently patted off between her little sisters legs. Finally she dry off the inside of Emily’s legs. Claire looked up and asked, “All dry?” With a big grin Emily answered, “All dry, thank you.” “OK let me dry off and then I’ll, er… Get you ready for bed.” “OK” Claire stood up and wrapped the towel around Emily shoulders again. Then, Claire quickly dried off, getting embarrassed again at being naked in front of her little sister. Claire begin to blush when she’d wipe off between her legs and her blush depend when she noticed Emily was watching her. She decided not to say anything, she didn’t want to embarrass Emily who’d been so sweet to her tonight. After Claire finish drying off, she wrapped her towel around her hair to keep it from dripping on the floor. Claire stepped out of the shower and then turned around and helped her sister out. She went over and picked up her big girl panties and slipped them on. Again she noticed Emily watching her. Blushing with embarrassment she finally asked, “Are you watching me?” Emily’s eyes fell to the ground and her face went crimson, “Um…ah…yea. I know I shouldn’t but you are so pretty Claire.” Claire tried to keep her composure. She had already had a long night and Emily had helped her feel much better. Maybe it was ok? Emily certainly did not think anything of being naked in front of her. Claire finished dressing by pulling on her sweatshirt. Emily was still standing in front of Claire with her towel draped over her shoulders. “Um…Emily do you want to where your nightshirt to bed?” “Yep,” Emily replied, tossed her towel in the hamper, and raised her arms, expecting Claire to dress her. Claire was surprised how unabashed Emily was, just standing naked in front of her, waiting to be dressed. Claire helped Emily on with her nightshirt. Emily may not think much of being nude, but Claire felt better that Emily was not naked anymore. A few times since they were in the shower Claire had noticed that Emily seemed a little fidgety, so she asked, “Emily do you need to go potty?” “Um…no I am fine. I must have wet just before waking up.” “OK, let’s go get you ready for bed,” Claire tried to stay in a cheery voice. While she had been uncomfortable with most of what happened tonight, she feared diapering her little sister may be the most embarrassing part of the night. As they made the short walk to Emily’s room, Emily walked very close to Claire, put her arm around her big sister’s waist, and laid her head against Claire’s shoulder. When they got to Emily’s bed, Emily said, “Thank you Claire” “It’s OK, this is the least I can do for my sweet little sister, who tries so hard to cheer me up.” Claire kissed Emily on the forehead. “Emily, um where are the…supplies?” “Oh, the diapers are on the bottom shelf of cabinet there, and the baby powder is on the shelf above,” Emily responded, pointing to the cabinet by her armoire, across the room. Claire had already started over to the cabinet, but stopped in her tracks when she heard Emily tell her about the baby powder. She was surprised, at 8 Emily still got powdered. Claire was wondering if Emily really wanted to be a baby. She decided not to say anything and went and got the supplies. When she turned around, Emily had already laid out her changing mat and was lying across the bed, nightshirt already pulled well above her waist. Claire walked back to Emily’s bed, “Um, what do I do Emily?” “Well first you need to open the diaper and put the big end under my bottom, then sprinkle the baby powder in the crotch of the diaper and between my legs. Finally just rub the baby powder around on my peach and tape me up,” Emily explained, as if this were as mundane as making a PB&J sandwich. Claire just stared at her sister, red faced and completely baffled. Did her sister have no humility whatsoever? “Earth to Claire. Did you zone out? I am getting a little cold down there.” “Oh, sorry. Ok Emily can you lift up your bottom, so I can put the diaper under you?” Emily lifted and spread her legs and put her feet on the edge of the bed. Then she lifted her bottom off of the changing pad. As Claire slid the diaper under Emily’s bottom she could not help but look between Emily’s legs. In a moment she saw more of her sister than she had ever seen of herself. Emily’s lips were spread wide, due to her position on the bed. Claire tried to look away, but something caught her eye. Claire could see Emily’s pee hole, and from it a little dribble of urine was leaking out. As Claire positioned the diaper under Emily, she stared, fixated at the trickle of urine and it leaked down her sisters pink folds. Claire lost her view when Emily lowered her bottom onto the diaper and her lips closed. “Hey Claire, are you falling asleep?” Claire looked up red faced from her little sister’s crotch, to see Emily staring at her. Claire was mortified. Had Emily noticed her staring at her peach? Did Emily know she had leaked? “It’s OK if you want to look, but I am kinda tired now.” “Oh, no, um.. Sorry I must have dozed off. Um, powder that’s right,” Claire stammered. She did not think Emily would buy that, but it was something to say. She sprinkled power in Emily’s diaper and on her crotch. She then gently rubbed the powder over Emily’s mound, hopping Emily would not piddle on her hand or the pee already under Emily’s lips would not seep out. She glanced up at Emily, who was now happily sucking her thumb and staring at the ceiling. Claire finished rubbing in the baby powder and hand stayed dry. She taped Emily up and patted her on the thigh. “Ok all done. Was I as good as mom?” Emily looked at Claire, took her thumb out of her mouth, and said, “A little slow on the start, but my diaper feels just as snug as when mom does it.” Emily gave Claire a big smile and said, “Thank you Claire.” “No problem” “Um, Claire, can you say with me tonight?” Claire was feeling very weirded out by the night and just wanted to sleep. But, she had also enjoyed the support Emily had given her. “Claire. It’s OK you have already done enough tonight. Mom will help you change your sheets in the morning. Just sleep here.” Emily had a point. Emily may have no bladder control while she slept, but she was the one with a dry bed. “Ok, let me go wash my hands.” Claire went to wash her hands and saw Emily getting off the bed. When Claire got to the bathroom she peed again, just in case. It would look really bad if she wet her little sister’s bed. Then she washed her hands. When Claire got back, Emily had put the changing mat away and was in the bed. Emily had slid to the far side of the bed to give Claire room. Claire turned off the light and got into bed. Once Claire got into bed, Emily snuggled up to her. Claire hugged her little sister close. As Emily was snuggling up, Claire’s knee slid up against the crotch of Emily’s diaper, it was warm and felt like Emily had already wet it. She wondered if Emily had leaked before, during her diaper change, because her bladder was almost full, but she did not know she had to pee until the diaper was already on. “Emily, do you need a change?” “Um, no, I am fine, thanks. I love you Claire, good night.” “I love you too Emily, goodnight.” That was the last night Claire wet the bed and there were no more trails of pee down the hall. She had learned what to look out for and how to make it to the toilet without any bad accidents. That is not to say there were not a few night each month that Claire’s panties were not damp by the time she got to the toilet. Claire just told herself, “that’s life.” ---------------------- Thinking back to when she was 10 and concord her bed wetting made her feel proud of herself, but it also reawoke those tingles in her crotch. What was that? And the more she thought about them the stronger it got. It was like her mind had gotten stuck in a loop, she kept trying not to think about what she was feeling down there but the more she did the stronger the tingling got, and it felt so warm. She noticed that here nipples had also hardened and felt a little tingly. Finally, she gave in. She would not touch herself down there, but mom never said not to touch her breast. She began rolling her nipple with her left hand, it felt so good. But as good as it felt it only made between her legs tingle more. Before she knew it her free hand was tracing its way over her tummy and down the front of the panties. It was not until her fingers touched the soft scant hair just above her mound that she relied what she was doing. She stopped her hand from going any lower but she continued to massage her breast. Then her hips rocked forward, sliding her pussy up towards her fingers. Her middle finger slipped between her soft folds and her clit pushed against her fingertip. Claire let out a long guttural moan which was abruptly cut off at her own surprise. At first it did not register that she had made the noise. She instinctively snatched her hand out of her panties and away from her breast. It was only after she had her hands at her sides that she realized that she had made that noise. “Never again, I won’t do that again. Touching my breast made me want to touch down there and touching down there is bad. So touching my breast must be bad too.” With that thought Clair drifted off to sleep.

September 18th, 2009: A diary? That’s my mom’s big surprise? A stupid diary? How’s that supposed to make me feel better about everyone leaving me behind? She says she’s tired of me moping around the house and being all depressed. Well of course I’m depressed! I’m ten years old now, I should have been there with my friends getting my first Pokémon and leaving home. Instead I’m stuck at home with my mom who’s been asking me every hour “how I’m feeling?” How do you think I’m feeling?! I’m PISSED! I’ve never been so frustrated in all my ten years of living! Instead I always reply with “fine.” What else can I say? That I’m hurt that all my so called “friends” got up and left without even glancing back? If I ever tried to put my feeling into words, I don’t think I’d ever stop crying. So she gave me this diary to “let it all out” and that bottling my feelings would only make things worse in the long run. What am I even supposed to write in this anyway? October 19th, 2009: I woke up with a wet bed again. That’s the second time this week. I feel so weak and sick to my stomach, not to mention embarrassed. Mom keeps telling me not to worry and that she knows it’s not my fault. She says when I’m feeling better she’s going to take me to the store and see what we can do about it. I’ve seen every Dr. in Pallet town, (well a pretty easy feat considering there’s only one) I don’t know what she expects to find at the store to make me stop having seizures. October 19th (again) : I’ve never been so humiliated in my life! She wasn’t taking me to the store to look for something to help me with my seizures, she was taking me to the store to buy diapers! She keeps telling me they’re not diapers, they’re good nights and that I only have to wear them to bed. You know what she did then? She took one out and HELD IT UP TO MY WAIST! In front of God and everyone else in that store. I could have sworn I heard people laughing. Then she has the nerve to go “hmm, I can’t tell if these will fit or not, maybe if I had you take off your pants.” That time I knew people were laughing. By this time all this talk of “wetting” and “accidents” was making me have to pee so I told her I was going to the bathroom and I’d be back. Instead of waiting for me, she follows me into the bathroom. It was a three stall bathroom so I’m like fine whatever figuring she had to go too. I’m about to walk in a stall but then she stops me and that’s when I notice she still had the diaper with her! “Please try it on?” she asked me. Normally I’d fight her with every fiber in my being, but after having had a seizure the night before I was totally wiped out already from this little excursion. I really wanted to just get this over with and go home. I reluctantly agreed and changed in the stall. She told me to come out so she could see how it fit. I told her it was fine but she made me come out anyway. I grumbled a bit as I came out of the stall and said, “See, it fits” and turned to walk back into the stall since I still had to pee, but now twice as bad. She told me to come back and started playing with the waist band as I danced in place a bit. “Mom, are you almost done? I really gotta go.” I said as the urge intensified even more. She said she was almost done as she started checking the leg holes, but then told me to stand still. I did as she said, but my body was just too weak to hold it back anymore as my bladder gave up and started emptying itself into the diaper. My mom could hear the hissing and saw the diaper suddenly start expanding. “Emily. . . “She said sounding concerned as tears started rolling down my face. “Oh, Emily it’s ok.” She said as she wrapped me in a hug while I started crying into her chest as I continued to wet the diaper uncontrollably like a baby. She continued to hold me as she waited for me to finish before inspecting the now soggy diaper. “Good, no leaks. These will do quite nicely. Go ahead and change back while I go pay for these.” She said and thanked me for my cooperation. October 19th (ONCE AGAIN) I can’t believe what she’s making me do. Not only do I have to wear these stupid things at night but now she’s making me wear them during the day too! She told me she understands that what happened was because of my weakened state and that it would stay between the two of us. I pointed out that it only happened because she wouldn’t let me go. She then apologized for that but followed it up with the fact that the point “when I realized I had to go” and” when I had the accident” were too close together to be normal. At least she’s only making me wear it on the days I wet the bed, since those are the days I feel the worst. It’s not like I have to USE them or anything, thankfully they’re kind of like a thicker version of pull-ups so I can just pull them up and down whenever I need to go. She said they’re there for any reason I couldn’t make it in time. I don’t see that being a problem, this was definitely just a onetime thing. October 20th Woke up totally dry so my mom said I could take this thing off now. Feels so good to be back in regular underwear although I do kind of miss the puffiness. Tried to sit down at the kitchen table for breakfast but let myself drop too high up from the seat and hurt my butt when I landed. Mom laughed at me while I was having to massage my sore backside. It was fun to do that in the pull-up but I have to remember I can’t do that in normal panties. November 3rd I keep hearing weird noises at night while I’m trying to sleep. I’ve asked mom to check it out several times but she keeps telling me it’s my Pull-up crinkling. Even when I’m lying still, really mom? November 18th Ok now I know this is seriously not my imagination. I heard the same noise in the kitchen, even mom heard it this time. Now I KNOW it’s not my pull-up, I secretly stopped wearing them a week ago. Sure they’re comfy, but I’m not like some baby who needs them. Mom said the noise was probably from the refrigerator. I didn’t realize the refrigerator squeaked. November 22nd No! No! No! I wet the bed again! I was doing so well! I realized while I tried to stand up that I felt exactly like the pile of mouse droppings I had just stepped in and fell to the floor. I awoke three hours later to find myself lying in my mom’s bed with a cool wet washcloth on my forehead. I shifted my weight and realized I was wearing a pull-up and a wet one at that. Mom came in and saw that I was awake and came to my side. She asked me how I was feeling and I replied “wet.” She pulled back the cover and stuck a finger through the leg hole; something I would have normally kicked at her for if I had been feeling better. She left the room and came back a minute later carrying a few things. She laid out a towel on her bed then came and placed one arm behind my shoulders and the other under my knees and lifted me into the air and set me back down on the towel. “Don’t have to” I weakly mumbled. “I can…” but trailed off due to lack of energy. She told me to just relax as she removed the wet pull-up but stopped when I winced in pain as it came into contact with the back of my right leg. “What’s wrong?” She asked. “Leg hurts” I mumbled. She rolled me onto my side and took a look. “Yikes.” She said as she looked at the bite marks on my leg. “Those weren’t there before. Hold on I’m going to take some pictures”. I saw a few flashes then mom showed me the pictures. The back of my leg was swollen along with five or six red and purplish teeth marks. Mom then very carefully slid off the wet pull-up and cleaned me up with some wet wipes while I blushed deeply. She then slid on a new one and told me for the time being not to get up, if I had to go I was to just go ahead and use the pull-up. I cringed at the thought, even if I was sick there’s was no way I’d purposefully use this thing. “Don’t worry about it” She said as she handed me a pillow and covered me back up with a blanket. The last thing I remembered was her telling me to stay on the towel so that way the next time, she could change me where I was. “No next time.” I mumbled into the pillow before drifting off to sleep. I woke up about four hours later to the worst stomach cramps of my life. I knew I only had minutes before I lost control and there was NO WAY I was going to have this kind of accident. I tossed the blanket off so I could get up but when I moved a sharp pain shot up my leg. “Mom!” I yelled in a panic. “Mom!” Surely she didn’t intend for me to GO in the pull-up. “What’s wrong, sweetie?” she asked as she came in. “Please, help me.” I begged clutching my stomach. “Need to go.” “What’s wrong?” she asked not seeing the problem. “Are you having trouble going?” “No, I need to go really badly.” I said, doing everything in my power not to mess myself. Wait did she ask if I was having TROUBLE going? She can’t possibly expect me to use this in that way? “We talked about this earlier, don’t you remember? Go ahead and use your diaper and I’ll change you when you’re done. You’re in no shape to get up.” “Diaper?” I asked looking down and realized I was no longer in a pull-up, but in a full on adult diaper. “What?” I asked. “I went out and bought them while you were asleep so they wouldn’t hurt your leg, and I’m glad I did. You’ve been having some intestinal trouble.” “What gave it away?” I asked sarcastically hoping I could somehow convince her to carry me to the bathroom. “Wait . . . have been?” Instead of answering my question she gently pushed me back down onto my pillow knowing I was at my limit and sat on the edge of the bed. “Just go sweetie, you’ll feel a lot better.” “No!” I cried as another painful cramp hit causing me to curl in a ball. “I don’t want you to have to change me.” “Honey, don’t worry about that.” She said as she began stroking my hair as sweat began to run down my face from the efforts of trying to hold it in. “You’ve had diarrhea most of the day. You’ve already messed and been changed a few times in your sleep.” She admitted as if that would make me feel better about consciously letting go. She removed her hand from my head and pried me out of my human ball so that I now laid on my side facing her. “Don’t fight it anymore.” She said as she began rubbing my tummy making me relax. “No,” I whined and started crying as I lost the last bit of strength I had as I began heavily messing myself. “Shh, there you go, let it all out.” She encouraged softly, continuing to rub my stomach. With my eyes shut tight I continued crying, but obeyed as I noisily pushed out the rest, knowing there was no real point in fighting it anymore. I had already messed, so I figured the more I got out now the less I’d have to deal with later. After what felt like an eternity (10 minutes) all was quiet except for my pitiful wails of humiliation and my mother’s attempts of cheering me up with “See, that wasn’t so bad” and “Don’t you feel better now?” “Do you think you’re done or should I wait a few more minutes before changing you?” “I’m done.” I said into my pillow more than ready to get out of this disgusting thing. “Before I change you, I want you to try going pee, ok?” I didn’t respond but pulled the blanket over my head before emptying my bladder as requested and felt it mixing with the mush below. “Emily?” I raised my pointer finger out of the blanket letting her know I needed a minute before giving the thumbs up signal when I was done. “Did you go pee?” she asked bluntly, making my face blush under the blanket. I flashed the thumbs up signal again. “Alright, thank you for being so co-operative. Now let me get you out of that and I promise you’ll feel better.” I uncovered my head and nodded as I felt the last of my strength leave me and I drifted back to sleep, only awakening a few times at my mom’s insistence that I keep drinking water.

Starting with a short and sweet fantasy of mine, I will most likely post more stories of these characters, a married couple in their late 20s refered to currently as just 'Him' and 'Her' in this thread as well. This is mostly unedited, unbetad, and rather short. Other stories of Him and Her will most likely be of similar length as they are just short clips of them playing out their various fantasys. He was focused on the movie when he heard it beside him. A faint hissing, followed by a quiet grunt, and it took all his willpower to keep a grin from appearing on his face. The grunting got slightly louder, almost insistent, but he waited until he could hear the first drops start to hit the floor before turning to her. She was looking at him intently, trying for defiant, and this surprised him as she was supposed to play it off as unconcerned, and he briefly sat there open mouthed, before she smirked at him with a particularly loud grunt, and he remembered his role. "Are you pooping your pants right now?" "I didn't want to miss any of the movie!" She exclaimed as the drips to the hardwood below them increased to a constant stream. "I asked if you wanted to wear a diaper for it." He responded, trying to sound mad and gesturing at his own sodden padding. Her eyes travelled down his body and her grin widened at the obvious bulge in the front of said garment, but she managed to keep her tone as she taunted, "I'm not a baby," grunt, "like some people here." By now the bulk in the seat of her jeans was obvious and her stream had slowed to a trickle, and it took rather an effort for him to say "Well, your going to miss it anyway. You go to your room and think about what you've done while I clean this up." "Fine!" She shouted, giving a final push as she stood up, nearly doubling the size of the mass in her pants, and began stomping up the stairs. He took a second to get his arousal under control, before setting out to do as he had said. The cloth cover was stripped off of the couch, revealing the protective waterproof cover underneath, and he used it to mop up the pee that had flowed to the floor and was about to toss it into their covered hamper when he heard footsteps behind him. He whirled around and said "I thought I told you to go upstairs. Don't make me have to spank," before she interrupted him quickly saying, "Lightbulb" He stopped immediately, but was rather confused as he said "ok, what do we need to change?" "Nothing," she said blushing, "we just need a second safe word for... When I'm too horny to finish the scenario." He burst out laughing, "Babe, it's your fantasy." "I knoooow," she wined, "but it was way to hot, maybe we can try and get through it some other time, but right now I just want you." She started back up the stairs, bulge in her pants a tantalising milisecond behind the sway of her walk. When she didn't hear his footsteps behind her she turned and smirked at him. "You coming diaper boy? Because you could be."

What brand? What size? What gender? What type? I use my younger brothers dry-nites. If you get the bulk package, it says it can be used on a higher age. So my mum normally gets the 4 - 7 ones (ahh arent mums awesome? :D) but occasionly she gets the 8 - 15 ones (obviously better) If you can post photos of the packet or diaper/nappy. Oh and im wearing a diaper right now :D https://www.dropbox.com/s/whyc5wg934j73xf/Photo%209-07-13%209%2013%2013%20AM.jpg https://www.dropbox.com/s/0q92t1p8o118b05/Photo%209-07-13%209%2013%2007%20AM%20%28HDR%29.jpg (can someone seriously tell me how to post the photos not links)

I'm not sure why I listened to her. I nearly didn't. I didn't actually intend to when I told her with all my misplaced pride of my strong bladder. And I was proud of my strong bladder. I was never the girl who needed to stop the car halfway to where she was going for a pee. I never waved my hand in desperation in class. I never had to skip part of a movie to run to the restroom. I hadn't wet myself since I was a toddler, not even come remotely close, so I certainly didn't need to wear diapers "just in case". So I'm not sure why I did. Respect for advice sincerely given? An abundance of caution? I'm really not sure. But on just my third day on the job I was infinitely glad that I had. Because anyone can have a bad day. I was dying. Maybe I should have taken it a little bit easier with my water bottle. If it's just sitting there I tend to drink mindlessly. Probably I shouldn't have drunk that cup of coffee before my shift to wake myself up. I didn't ever do that again. Whatever. However my bladder was filled it most definitely had been filled. Now it was full. Overfull. I'd fucked up. By the end of my shift I badly needed to go to the toilet. Not enough to be at any risk of an accident or anything though. Just regular badly. It would have still been fine if my replacement for the next shift had turned up. But he didn't. When he was around fifteen minutes late I called up the office to ask what the hold-up was. "Didn't anyone tell you?" A crackly voice fractured down the line. "We had to move Al over to section B. We've called someone in for you. Probably about an hour or so." My heart sunk. I didn't mind the overtime, the money was welcome, I'd accumulated some debts through the fault of mostly others, but I was officially desperate. I asked if they could send someone up to relieve me for a few minutes but I just got an unsympathetic "We don't have the staff right now." I was to learn they never have the staff. Before I started this job I'd always thought that employers had to give people restroom breaks. It turns out that isn't quite true. They have to provide restrooms. They don't have to actually let employees use them. And this particular job, which shall remain nameless, didn't. You could pee before or after your shift. If you needed to go during... tough. Think dry thoughts. Cross your legs. Piss your pants. I didn't know what to do; should I try to hold on and make it to the restroom completely dry? Or should I try to leak slowly into my diaper to take the pressure off? If I tried to hold it and failed I was pretty sure that the diaper would overflow and it would be just as embarrassing as if I had wet myself without one. But deliberately pee myself? I'd never done that before. I wasn't sure I even could. And I had another concern... There was this one time back in college. A group of us had driven to the next town over to watch some band play a shitty bar that had the solitary virtue of not carding. The band sucked, I think we only went because someone had a crush on the bassist. On the way back this girl Maddy, I think her name was, needed to pee but my friend Loz, who was driving, wouldn't stop by the side of the road. I can't remember why, there might have been a good reason, or she might have just been fucking with Maddy for the lolz. Then Maddy started saying that she was literally going to wet herself. Emphasizing the "literally". Loz kept telling her she better not. The other girl in the car, whose name I can't remember, was telling her to let a little bit out to take the pressure off until we could stop. I'm pretty sure I was just laughing at the situation. Eventually Maddy announced that she couldn't wait any longer and she was going to try to pee a little bit. Ten seconds later she was yelling that she couldn't stop. Loz was yelling at her to stop peeing. I was dying laughing. She ended up completely pissing herself. I didn't want that to happen to me. To start to pee and be unable to stop. I wished I'd practiced for this moment safely at home. But, of course, I never thought I'd actually need to use the diapers. They were just a precaution. Just in case. My predecessor had recommended them to me the day of my orientation in a hushed tone, even though no one was nearby. "And one other thing..." She started with a blush. She pulled a plastic package out of a drawer beneath her, my, workstation. Adult diapers. I was shocked. "Hopefully you never need to use them. But you'll be ever so glad you did if you do." She went on to explain, "The shifts are eight hours without a break and sometimes you'll have to work unexpected overtime." I was embarrassed to be having this conversation. Embarrassed this woman was admiring to wearing, and wetting, diapers to me. "I've got a really strong bladder." I assured her. "Good." She couldn't look me in the eye, "That will help. But anyone can have a bad day and if one ever does happen to you..." She shrugged and offered one last suggestion, "Make sure you leak slowly rather than let it all out in a flood. They don't cope with floods well." I was dying. I seriously couldn't sit still without feeling like I might lose control. I wasn't going to make it. Accepting that was surprisingly easy. For the first time in twenty years I was going to wet myself. The only question was, "Could I get away with no one else ever finding out?" I had to try. I glanced to my left and right. No one was particularly nearby. No one looking my way. I held my breath and relaxed. It was easy. Too easy. I almost got lost in the wonderful feeling of finally unlocking my tired and burning muscles and gave in completely. Almost. I clamped down firmly and stopped peeing. That was much harder, much more uncomfortable. I understood what Maddy must have felt. Surely it would be impossible to stop if you were drunk. A hand carefully run over the back of my work skirt felt no sign of wetness. I didn't even feel wet. I'd expected to for some reason. I guess you expect to feel wet if you pee in your pants. But I guess I wasn't wearing pants, not precisely. But, if it was possible, I needed to pee worse than ever. I could feel myself spasming painfully between my legs. I needed to leak again. It took all my muscle strength and all my willpower not to leak again. I had to wait for a while. But I didn't know how long was an appropriate amount of time to wait between peeing a little. Thirty seconds? Ten minutes? I decided I would have to wait five minutes. If I held on for just five more minutes I would let myself pee a little. I swear the second hand was moving backward on my watch. I checked it a thousand times. I sweat panic. Finally five minutes had passed and I peed. For two seconds. A quick, desperate, spurt. Then I clamped my muscles shut again as tightly as I could. My body complained. My pussy felt like it was on fire. But somehow, unbelievably, I managed to stop peeing. The next five minutes was worse. Impossibly worse. I think if I'd been anywhere but work I might have just given up and wet myself. Certainly if I'd been alone. It wouldn't have been worth it. It was only barely worth it. But I really didn't want a reputation as "the girl who wet herself at work". So I had to hang on. Somehow. I counted all three hundred seconds, it took hours, I relaxed at two-nine-nine because it would take a second to start. It was glorious. Better than the last two times. Better than any orgasm. And then, too soon, far too soon, it was over and I had to force my exhausted muscles to stem the flow yet again. They wouldn't. I kept peeing. In a panic I tried again, unwilling to give up, unwilling to have an accident, not now, not here. My body resisted my will at first but ultimately relented, to my endless relief. With dreadful heart I surreptitiously swept a hand underneath my ass expecting to find my seat soaked. But it wasn't. The diaper had held up to even my prolonged leak. Thank God. It was easier to wait five minutes this time. I guess I must have released enough pressure so that my bladder wasn't right at the limits of its capacity. Don't get me wrong, I was still desperate, just not on the brink of an accident desperate. I was getting worried about how much more the diaper could hold though. I really had no idea. I cursed myself again for not testing it out at home. At least with a measured quantity of water if I really couldn't bring myself to pee in it. The next time I leaked it wasn't so bad. Maybe practice was making perfect. I decided I better keep up my schedule though. I didn't want to let myself get so desperate that losing control completely was an inevitability. I didn't keep count, but I think I ended up leaking another five or six times before my relief arrived in the form of a call-in I'd never met before. He came sauntering up to my station with a relaxed air and a lop-sided smile. I'd never been so happy to see anyone. I rushed through the hand-over as quickly as I could without letting on my situation. He seemed to want to chat but I wasn't in a position to indulge him. As soon as I could I gave him a tight smile, wished him a good night, and walked as fast as I could toward to restrooms. Before my relief had arrived I'd been letting myself leak enough that I was actually feeling fairly in control, if getting increasing concerned that the diaper must be nearly full, but now I was on my feet I was once again concerned that a complete accident was imminent. Maybe it was standing up and walking, maybe it was knowing relief was just seconds away. I was dearly tempted to stop in the hallway and let myself leak a little more but visions of finally losing control and making a puddle on the floor twenty steps from the restroom were all too real so I forced myself to wait. I don't know how I managed. I had my skirt around my waist before I'd even fully closed the stall door. I ripped down my tights, tore the tabs of my diaper open, and collapsed onto the toilet, peeing as I sat. It was possibly the longest pee of my life. I didn't keep time, but it felt like I peed for minutes. When I finally finished I balled up the diaper and buried it in the trash beneath a layer of hand towel. It was so heavy. I couldn't believe it was able to absorb that much pee. Thankful though. Because if it hadn't, or if I hadn't been wearing it, I would have absolutely suffered the embarrassment of people knowing I wet myself at work. I never needed them again. I was very, very careful with my fluid intake and after about a year I moved on to different employment. I did recommend the diapers to the woman who replaced me, despite the embarrassment of bringing it up. She seemed skeptical and told me she had a strong bladder. I hope she listened though. Because anyone can have a bad day.

So, as the question asks, did anyone else here wear diapers past the age most kids are potty trained? Ergo between 18 months and 3 years of age? I know I did. I wore them until a little past the end of second grade, so about the time I turned eight, since my mom couldn´t find anymore that would fit me. If you can, share any memories you can. Now, this story takes me back. It was in 2003 or so. I was about five years old, maybe five and a half. I went to the local YMCA for preschool, or maybe it was daycare. Maybe it was both, moving on. I was wearing a light blue shirt, dark blue sweatpants, and some shoes. Now, here's the thing, gonna lay a little backstory about me back then. You see, I wasn't technically potty trained. True, I knew how to use the toilet, and how to tell when I had to go, but using diapers and beings changed seemed to help me bond more with my mom. I wasn't nervous about using diapers, and was never caught, not even by the staff. I would fill them, and no one would notice. On that day, I had a pretty substantial breakfast, including a bottle of milk or two. On that day, we were studying the Chinese Zodiac. We were called up to pick the animal we were born under, cut it out, and get it pasted onto two Popsicle sticks. I, at the time, thought I had been born under the dragon, because dragons are cool, and I liked them. What my five year old mind didn't know, which I would find out a few years after, when I was eight or nine, was that, being born in early February, I was actually a tiger, but that's beside the point. I cut out my paper dragon, and joined my classmates in the line. I only knew a few of them by name, but we didn't keep in touch. I was near the back of the line. It was a moment later that breakfast came to haunt me. I felt a sharp tingling sensation in my bladder, and my bowels felt quite full. I gently rubbed my stomach, rubbing my legs together. I normally wouldn't worry about using my diaper, but with the teacher so close, and several other kids behind me, I feared they would sniff me out. I didn't know whether or not some of my classmates were in diapers, or Pull-Ups, I never noticed if they were. Normally, I would just let go into my diaper, or find a place to relax, but I didn't want to lose my spot in line, or tell the teacher where I had been. I could already feel a few dribbles spurt into my padding, and something shifting in my gut. I knew I wouldn't hold it in much longer. I "accidentally" dropped my paper crane. My dark blue sweatpants hid my diaper pretty well. I bent down to pick it up, and began to push. I smiled as I felt a stream of urine soak my diaper, warming it up. At the same time, I blasted out a fart, muffled by my diaper and pants, and began to fill the back with a squishy mush.As this was going on, even though it barely lasted a minute, to five year old me it felt like hours. As I pooped, I kept thinking "Please don't notice my poo poo." I stood up, got my paper dragon glued, and went on my stinky way. I was later change in the car, or get changed, rather.

Apologies if this question has been asked before. I did a search, but there were too many diaper-related themes to check. Does anyone know of scenarios in everyday life where people would wear diapers? I’m not talking about babies or infirm/elderly people, but people with normal bladder/bowel control in situations where there is no access to a toilet. The two that I know of are: astronauts in spacesuits people who do deep sea scuba diving Does anyone know of other examples? For example, what about people who are doing solo ocean sailing? Presumably, they have to be prepared for occasions when bad conditions make it impossible to leave the tiller?

It's been a while since I wrote a diaper story. If you like it and want me to continue, leave feedback. The Weird Scholarship Chapter One: The Drive I drove down the highway with one hand held between my legs. I had to pee and being stuck in a car didn't help. A sign up ahead said that the next rest area was only fifteen miles up ahead and I could certainly hold it. It was just a bit uncomfortable and I didn't know what I would do when I got there. My phone rang and I answered it. I know you are not supposed to talk and drive, but at least I wasn't texting. I looked at the screen and saw it was my best friend Kara. “How's the drive?” “Weird,” I said. “I'm almost to Massachusetts though.” “Good timing,” she said. “What's weird about it?” “You know.” She very well did know why I felt weird. This was her plan. “I'm wearing a diaper.” “You better be, Nora,” said Kara. “You don't want to be found out as a faker and lose your scholarship.” “Yeah,” I said. “That's the problem. I'm not really incontinent. They are going to find out.” Kara giggled on the other end of the phone. “No they're not. Just act natural.” I rubbed myself in the thick padded material between my legs with my phone to keep from peeing. I then picked the phone up and said, “This is not natural.” “Well, get used to wetting yourself,” she said. “You probably should show up in a wet diaper. That way you won't look like a faker to the other girls who are used to wetting their diapers.” “Why did I let you talk me into this?” I asked. “You got a scholarship to MIT. The IRS took your college money, remember? This is your last chance to go to college.” I sighed. “Goodbye, Kara.” “Bye. And trust me about arriving in a wet diaper.” I hung up. I don't understand how things got so weird. My father had saved enough in my college fund to pay for all four years of school. So my junior year of high school, I didn't really need to bother with scholarships. When we had to go to the library to research scholarships, Kara suggested I choose the weirdest scholarships. There were actually scholarships for people who entered a program to study yodeling. Like I could get a job doing that. There was also a scholarship for incontinent girls who were studying engineering at MIT. That was a pretty specific scholarship and it was a perfect target for my entertainment during library time. So when the IRS investigated my father, somehow my college fund was where they though he was hiding the money. It was the summer before college and I had no money. The only scholarships I had applied for were for yodeling majors and for incontinent girls studying engineering at MIT. The scholarship was generous. It paid for everything I needed for college. I remember getting the phone call where I was given the scholarship. “Is Nora Stevens there,” the woman on the phone had asked. “This is Nora.” “This is Elizabeth Jones from the scholarship selection committee. I am pleased to inform you that you are next on the list for the Scholarship for Incontinent Girls in Engineering.” My mouth was opened in shock. I had though my college dreams were over since I lost my college fund. I was in until her next line. “The other girl didn't measure up. She was faking incontinence just to get the scholarship. I made this scholarship so incontinent girls can have the full college experience. That includes living in the dorms. To do that we want to make sure that we pair you with another girl in the dorm that is in your same situation. Will this be a problem for you?” “No problem,” I said. “Good. We are having a summer camp to get to know the other girls. Attendance is mandatory.” Kara had laughed and laughed when I told her, but she had been a big help in getting me adult diapers. They do sell diapers in stores, but the kind that real incontinent people wear are only found online and I had to order some ahead of time. The rest area came up soon after the sign that said that I was entering Massachusetts. I almost stopped, but then I thought about what Kara said. An incontinent girl would show up in a wet diaper. To be convincing, I would do the same. I relaxed and pretended I was siting on the toilet, even though I was sitting behind the wheel of my Ford Fiesta. I still had to keep my eye on the road. As I started to wet, it was so warm as the wetness spread around my crotch and under my bottom. The first time I wet the diaper, I was surprised it felt good. This was the first time I had tried to wet while sitting down. The first time I wet a diaper I was standing. Both times, I was shocked at how good it felt. I looked back at the rest stop through the rear-view mirror. The rest area, like my toilet training, was behind me.

It was a hot day so I had been drinking a lot of water. The diapers really couldn't cope. 20200103_215443_1_1.mp4

I got into a sticky situation in which I feel like I am being a creep: There is this dating app where people join "interest groups" to meet other members. I've been there for a long time, and saw groups before such as "I need to use the toilet often!", "I hate queuing for toilets", etc. But only recently I noticed a group for people who need to use diapers due to medical conditions. I browsed the (very few) members out of curiosity and one woman caught my attention as she was truly gorgeous, had a high level of education, and seemed like a nice person overall. And I swear I got carried away by her profile, sent her a message and totally forgot in which group I found her profile. We started chatting, found we have very similar interests, exchanged messages every day for almost a month, and decided to meet last week. When she asked in which group I found her profile (and what first attracted me to her), I froze. I felt really ashamed of my fetish, as I hadn't in years, and coldly lied about it. Only then I realized her diabetes (which she had told me about before) was the reason she had to use diapers, and I confess I didn't know the connection between diabetes and incontinence. I still haven't told her, but I feel like I was such an asshole for looking for women in that group, as if I'm enjoying their suffering. She also is such a fine person that I feel that she would be traumatized by knowing my fetish (I understand that in reality there isn't really any correlation, but that fear overpowers me). I lost my opportunity to be honest with her and now is probably too late for it (if I ever even had such an opportunity given the weirdness of the situation from my part). anyway... How to ethically approach the situation of potentially enjoying something that for other people is a cause of suffering. More specifically, how to deal with the ambiguity of the crossing between one person's sexual fetish and another's medical condition?

So not more than a couple months ago, I ended up in the ER because I thought I might have a blood clot in both my legs. Why I thought that is an unrelated story, but it's important to know because that's what got me an ultrasound. You see, I'd been having intense pain in both my legs for 3 days, getting worse each day. I thought perhaps I was dehydrated, so I kept drinking and drinking, which meant I was peeing and peeing. One thing that helped the pain was taking a hot bath, and I will fully admit I peed in that water multiple times with each bath. I just kept peeing! Now, everyone's heard of pregnancy ultrasounds, and in this community we've all heard of bladder ultrasounds (thanks @rachelkirwan!), but how many of you know about getting an ultrasound to check for blood clots in the legs? As it turns out, the exam is very thorough, and goes from groin to lower calf. I had no idea this was the case, but if you think about it, it does make sense. So there I was, laying on one of the beds in some pretty bad pain, when a young female nurse rolls in the portable ultrasound machine and informs me that she has to scan my legs from groin to calf, so please take a moment when she steps outside to take off my pants, but leave my underwear on, if I'm wearing any (is it normal for people to show up to the ER commando?). As it turns out, I wasn't wearing my normal boxers, just a pair of loose fitting mesh soccer shorts under my pants, so I left those on figuring she'd be able to do whatever she'd needed to do. She came back in, and was not shy at all about strategically laying a towel over my junk - dudes probably have a tendency to get a bit "excited" over something like this, and I probably would have too if not for all the pain I was in. She then went right to it with the little ultrasound wand, using it and the back of her hand to move my "stuff" out of the way as necessary. The whole thing took about 15-20 minutes, which involved a lot of her touching and manipulating my upper/inner thighs with the wand and her hands. In the process I think I may have discovered the appeal of a medical fetish, and we had a nice little chat too! While we were chatting, it dawned on me that I missed the perfect opportunity to be wearing one of my northshore pullups. It would have been plausible - with all the water and gatorade I had been consuming that day, I was having full bladder pees every 20-30mins, and with all the pain in my legs with trying to get up, walk, and even stand still to pee, it really wouldn't have been too far out of left field for me to have put on some protection, just in case. I know it might sound far-fetched, but trust me, that pain was BAD! There's no way she would have missed the pullup - she probably would have needed to move the inner part of the waistband aside. It would have been so kinky to have to explain to her how I thought wearing something just in case might not be a bad idea because I was having to pee so badly so often, and that with the pain associated with moving my legs and not knowing if I'd be stuck somewhere I couldn't get to a bathroom for more than 30 minutes I might end up in an even more embarrassing predicament! Le sigh... Has anyone else had an experience where they actually did end up wearing a pullup/diaper in a similar situation?