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female The Capacity of Friendship


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Avery watched as the clock continued to tick, one black rectangle at a time. Tic-toc. Tic-toc. Each noise was another second closer to freedom from the stuffy classroom and the droning voice of Mr. Du

Starting this attempt at 2:45, Grace headed back to her room, noticing the bloated feeling in her torso. She continued to clean up the floor before, after about half an hour, she felt the need to go p

“Why are you carrying a diaper around?” Avery whisper-asked, her incredulity at the situation taking her mind off of the accident she had just had. ”My mom insists on it-she says it’s a good idea

“Why are you carrying a diaper around?” Avery whisper-asked, her incredulity at the situation taking her mind off of the accident she had just had.

”My mom insists on it-she says it’s a good idea for situations like these or if I run out of period protection in an emergency.”

Avery was not in the mood to think too critically about this at the moment, nor had she had much firsthand experience with protection, or she would have realized that a pull-up was not a reasonable choice for this function.

“So what do we do now? Thank you for saving my life, but now I’m in a soggy diaper, and I can’t wear that home.... My underwear is soaked too.” 
 

“Don’t worry, I’ll deal with it-I have a plastic bag as well. I can’t do much about the underwear, you’ll have to deal with those.”

As Avery recovered from the shock of wearing a diaper, she began to become more hysteric: “Oh god, I just wet myself like a baby. You won’t tell anyone about this, right? I can’t believe it”. The rest of the bus ride was filled with Grace assuring Avery that she wouldn’t publicize her wet diaper. Eventually, the two girls reached their stop, and started walking home.

Once they were safely out of sight of any other students, Avery ducked behind the cover of a nearby tree to remove her panties and try to at least dry them off. Her skirt was still damp in a few spots, but it didn’t obviously originate from her crotch. She eventually got her underwear dry enough that they wouldn’t further dampen anything else, and resolved to change as soon as possible.

After a few minutes, they reached Avery’s home, which wasn’t strictly speaking on the way to Grace’s, but it was close enough that they walked home together. Avery turned, and went in the house, miserable from the shame of wetting herself in front of her best friend and hoping to disguise it from anyone else. Meanwhile, Grace skipped off towards her house, looking quite pleased overall. A few blocks before getting there, she paused, turned to the side, and squatted slightly. An astute observer could have spotted the slight moist bulge and wet brownish patch in her grey leggings, and she finished her journey home, she fixed her face in an unhappy scowl and walked slowly with a slight waddle.

——————————————————-

“How did the day go, sweet?” came the call from the kitchen as Grace walked in the door. 

Poking her head around the doorframe, she responded: “Terribly. I need to go get changed-I had two bad accidents at school today, and ran out of protection. I had another accident walking home, so my clothes are messy.

Twin sympathetic expressions of care from her mom and little sister, Ally, followed Grace up the stairs into the bathroom. For her, messy clothes weren’t nearly the cause for concern that they were for Avery—she was used to them by now. She hopped in the shower, rinsed some of the poop out of her leggings, and started cleaning herself off. 
 

As the hot water ran down her body, she thought back to the circumstances that had lead her to her current situation. 
—————————————————
It was a Friday night like any other at Grace’s families house. Both girls having finished their weekly homework, and procrastinating that that was due Monday, the family settled down for dinner (this week, pizza) in the living room, with a family-agreed-upon movie. This was slightly more complex than it appeared, given that the tastes of a 14-year-old girl, 8-year-old girl, 45-year old mother, and 43-year-old father are not entirely congruent, and someone was usually unhappy. On top of that, because Ally had a habit of dozing off during the movie, she had to get ready for bed before it started. She still wet the bed, so on top of the already seemingly interminable process of changing into pajamas and brushing teeth, she also had to change into a GoodNite, which, despite always being on the same shelf in the same shared kids bathroom, seemed to add a significant amount of time to the whole process. 
 

By the time everyone was content with their positions on the couch (parents to the left, kids to the right, Ally ready to pivot to lie on top of her sister after pizza had been scarfed down) and the opening credits of Sing (much to the chagrin of Grace’s father, and preformed chagrin of Grace) began to roll, the pizza was slightly cold, but no less enjoyable for that.

Midway through the movie, Grace grabbed the remote and froze the faces of animated elephants in a perpetual “Hap-“. 
 

“I need to go to the bathroom, does any pst need anything?” she sighed. Everyone else shook their heads, prompting her mom to ask Ally if she needed to go to the bathroom. Ally shook her head again, but as Grace began the process of extricating herself from a half-awake Ally (not an easy task, as despite being 6 years younger than Grace, Ally only weighed about ten pounds less than she did, due to their decidedly different builds), she felt her GoodNite grow suddenly warm. Chuckling to herself, and not a little resentful that she had to interrupt the movie and move from her comfortable position, she went to go relieve herself. As she sat on the toilet, she cursed her small bladder that was apparently the exact wrong size: not small enough to justify wearing a diaper, and not large enough to permit her to go more than a couple hours without using the bathroom.

The next morning was a Saturday, meaning everyone got to sleep in or entertain themselves. Grace woke up early, and moved to grab her book from her nightstand before realizing that her bladder was urgently calling her to the bathroom. With an aggrieved sigh, she tore off her covers, and went to the bathroom, knowing that she’d have to brave the cold fall corridors at least once more this morning before her parents were properly awake to start the day. She didn’t mind the time to herself, but she wasn’t a fan of having to get out of her warm bed. Upon her return to her room, her slightly overzealous closing of the door woke up her sister in the bunk above her. After cursory greetings were exchanged, both began to pursue the activity of their choice (reading for grace, listening to an audiobook with earbuds for ally).

A few minutes in, another noise broke into Grace’s sound cocoon of gentle scrapes of page turning: a gentle hissing coming from the top bunk. She’d heard that noise often enough while trying to go to bed at night to know that Ally was peeing herself, so she looked up to see whether she had dozed off. Ally’s open eyes confirmed to her that she wasn’t the only one who didn’t like getting up in the morning, and she almost commented on it before she thought of better of it.

 

In another hour, the sun firmly above the horizon but still not in the position it would attain by the 10:00 alarm clock their parents had set, Grace went to the bathroom again, but rather than sitting on the toilet, she carefully opened the door to the cabinet where Ally’s nighttime protection was kept. Heart beating rapidly, she took one of the many pull-ups there, and examined it closely. It was noticably thicker than her underwear, slightly crinkly, and proudly proclaimed itself to be a Girls GoodNite L-XL. A quick glance at the package confirmed that her sister being much pudgier than she was meant that her 90 pounds would fit in the underwear intended for a smaller girl.

Suddenly emboldened, she decided to try it on, and see why Ally was so willing to wet herself. Trying to avoid excessive noise while also moving quickly, she pulled off her pajama bottoms, and pulled up the absorbent underwear underneath. It felt strangely bulky to her, but, after she pulled up her pajama bottoms, she realized it was impossible to tell she was wearing a diaper. Now came the next step: using it to relieve the fast-building pressure in her bladder. She tried to let go, but she couldn’t convince her body she really wanted to pee here and now, and this inability gave her some pause to consider whether she really wanted to be trying to wet herself. She quickly overcame her indecision, convincing herself that she just wanted to see how it felt, and nobody would ever know. However, she still couldn’t bring herself to actually use the pull-up, so she decided to force the issue, and flushed the toilet, examined herself in the mirror to make sure nothing was showing, and headed back to her bed to continue reading.

 

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As she walked down the hall, she felt the unfamiliar thickness of a pull-up between her legs. Her bladder was getting quite full, but she knew she still wouldn’t be able to go to the bathroom without sitting on the toilet. As she re-entered her room, and walked back to the lower bunk, she was careful to make sure her shirt was fully covering her waist, even though Ally was immersed and not paying attention. She went back to her book, but was unable to focus, distracted by the twin influences of her bladder and new lightly padded undergarments. As more time passed, she grew increasingly desperate, and started to squirm in bed as she felt the pressure build. She strengthened her resolve to not go to the bathroom and instead concentrated on ignoring her bladder, making sure to not cross her legs or anything else that would make it easier for her to hold her pee. It didn’t take much longer before she was truly about to have a not-so-accidental accident. For a moment, she considered rushing to the bathroom, before she realized she couldn’t make it there: if she got out of bed, she would almost certainly wet herself immediately. Secure in her decision to try using her underwear, she closed her eyes and relaxed slightly. 
 

This time, her beleaguered bladder released, spilling a flood of pee into her GoodNite. She felt warm liquid on her buttocks and-for a terrible moment-thought her pajamas were soaked, before realizing that she was lying on her back and the GoodNite was rapidly absorbing her urine. The rush of warmth was a bizarre sensation, but it wasn’t entirely unwelcome, and the warm pull-up wasn’t as uncomfortable as she had expected. Even as she lay in bed, feeling this new sensation and puzzling out what to think of it, she realized the GoodNite wasn’t exactly soaked: the surface felt only slightly damp, and while it was substantially more bulky now that it contained the contents of her bladder, it didn’t feel like it was about to fall off. Rationalizing her decision based on the fact that wearing a pull-up would only be more convenient if she didn’t have to change instantly, she decided to wait, and try to pee again. Marveling at the effectiveness of the GoodNite at containing what would have soaked her entire bed and most of her pajamas, she quickly guzzled the water bottle she kept at her bedside but rarely drank, and turned back to her book, first verifying that it was only 8:45, meaning she still had well over an hour to get cleaned up before her parents awoke. 
 

As she read, her pull-up started to get colder, which was annoying, but not terrible-it certainly wasn’t worse than the chill brought on by getting out from under the covers. Her bladder slowly filled back up, and when she was next disturbed from the quiet world of Rand al’Thor by a twinge of urgency, the clock read 9:30. At first, she was annoyed at yet another interruption-for some reason, she always had to pee far more often in the morning than any other time. She quickly remembered what she was wearing, though, and considered what to do. She knew there was a risk that she would leak, wetting the slim pull-up again, but she also knew that her sister regularly wet the bed at least once, and then went again in the morning without too much trouble, and the mattress was protected in case of spills. She decided to try again. This time, it was somewhat easier, but still required her to be far more desperate to go then she would have been on a toilet.

Grace shivered as her pee cascaded into her already-wet pull-up again, reheating the clammy padding and further increasing its bulk. After she finished wetting, she was briefly worried as she was left sitting in a pool of urine, but realized that the already-partially full GoodNite merely needed more time to finish absorbing. Eventually, she was left with a very soggy, but not liquid, GoodNite, and a thrill of excitement at the prospect of avoiding future constant bathroom trips, if she could convince her parents to let her wear one. 
 

As she carefully walked back to the bathroom, regulating her stride to avoid waddling too much, she reflected on how she’d get access to more pull-ups. She couldn’t rely on discretely stealing from her sister, and she knew asking her parents wasn’t an option either. She had to convince them it was necessary in some way before they’d go through the hassle and expense.

After changing out of her sodden pull-up and putting it-perfectly disguised-with Ally’s used ones in the special can, Grace went through the motions of going to the bathroom before returning to her room, this time unencumbered by two bladders worth of pee. Instead of going back to her book, she decided to do some Internet research about conditions that could cause sudden need for pull-ups. 
 

Twenty minutes or so later, she heard the alarm clock of her parents go off in the other room, and quickly eliminated any incriminating digital evidence, delving back into The Fires of Heaven. Her research had been partially successful: while secondary diurnal enuresis (a fancy name for sudden daytime peeing) was very rare, and normally caused by trauma (and thus not suitable for her purposes), trouble with fecal incontinence, at least to some extent, was far more medically reasonable. Apparently, either constipation or diarrhea could cause urge bowel incontinence, and with that, she set her plan in motion.

The rest of Saturday, Sunday, and the school day on Monday all passed smoothly. Now that she was on the lookout for it, Grace spotted a few more instances where Ally used her pull-up while not asleep, even sneaking it in to a school morning before changing into her school clothes. Nobody suspected what she had done on Saturday morning.

On Monday, rather than heading straight home from the bus stop, she stopped at a nearby Wal-aid instead. Mustering all her courage, she walked in, chin up, and went to the medicine aisle, picked out a bottle of Miralax, and went to register to inquire whether such a medicine as “mirlax” existed, or that was a text typo from her mom. Having safely dodged any questions, and knowing that Miralax occasionally made its appearance in the medicine cabinet and would not be considered out of place, she headed home with her prize in a well-concealed pocket of her backpack. Once home, she found a quiet window to make the transfer, and her acquisition was safely ensconced in the medicine cabinet.

The next morning, as she hair-dressed in front of the mirror post-shower (for entirely too long, according to the rest of the family), she quickly read the instructions on the miralax bottle, mixed the upper end of the normal dose with a cup of water, and drank it quickly before rinsing out the cup. 

Normally, she would have gone poop in the morning, but she decided to hold it for later, because she wasn’t particularly desperate. 

The school day posed no major challenge, and everything went according to plan. She got off her bus, her colon starting to feel quite in need of the bathroom. Because it was a Tuesday, rather than walking home, she hopped in her mom’s care, and chatted passively while clenching her buttcheeks for the thirty minute crosstown drive to her piano lesson. An hour of intense, but not dangerous, desperation later, and she found herself back in the car. She couldn’t remember the last time she needed to poop this badly-normally, she went every morning, and didn’t have any issues. Smiling internally, she made her first statement of outward need:
“Mom, I need to use the bathroom” 

Her mom was a bit taken aback-normally, Ally would be the one with poor bathroom planning. “Ok, sweet-we’ll be home soon”

About five minutes later, Grace was starting to get seriously desperate, and she could feel her control starting to slip. She knew she could hold it until they got home, but that would have defeated the point of the exercise.

”I really need to go mom-can we stop at the gas station by 17th?”
 

“Sure, I guess-I’m sorry about that”

The gas station she referred to was about 5 minutes away, but Grace had no intention of letting them get there. She waited a minute, and then unclenched her butt and pushed slightly, causing a messy accident with a very obvious wet-sounding fart accompanying it. 

“Are you ok?” asked her mom

Grace promptly broke down in tears: “I pooped myself-I can’t believe it.”

Her mom, seeing her daughter in distress, switched immediately into comforting mom mode. “It’s ok, what happened? It happens to everyone. Let’s get you home and cleaned up.”

Grace felt a bit guilty at her deception, but tearfully replied “Right after we got in the car, I suddenly needed to go, and then it just came! I didn’t even know I could go before!”

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Grace did not particularly enjoy the sensation of her “accident,” but it was a price she was willing to pay. If her plan worked at intended, she wouldn’t have to poop herself too much more. 
 

The car pulled into her driveway, and Grace finally got to go clean up. Much to her embarrassment, her accident was impossible to conceal from Ally. She trudged up the staircase, hearing her sister’s voice ask her mom what happened. 
 

She got herself cleaned up, taking a shower and changing into a new outfit. After she had done so, she was greeted by a very sympathetic Ally reassuring her that everyone had accidents sometimes, and that it was ok. As cute as Ally was, she couldn’t help but internally smirk at the irony of the situation.

Her mom, conscious of the embarrassment that Grace must be feeling, chose to not mention her earlier accident again, something Grace was quite grateful for. The rest of the evening proceeded in a slightly subdued fashion, but was mostly normal.

After Grace finished her homework, and Ally was safely tucked into bed and asleep, she went to get ready for bed, pausing to cast covetous glances at the GoodNites still in the cabinet. 

She pulled the covers up over her, and drifted off to sleep, ironing out the details of tomorrow. 

The next morning, she repeated her morning laxative ritual. She wasn’t exactly sure what the effect would be, but she knew her “accidents” would be both easier and more convincing if she had diarrhea. 
 
As she hopped in the bus and went off to school, she realized that she was less anxious than she had been yesterday: her afternoon bowel desperation had gone on for long enough that she was fairly sure she wouldn’t have a real accident, despite taking morning Miralax. She couldn’t wait to get through the school day and into her planned events of the afternoon, and while this excitement elongated several of her more inane classes, she was able to distract herself by going over her plan again, and making sure it didn’t have any holes. 

By the time the school day ended, and she got on her bus to ride back home, she was starting to feel a slowly increasing need to use the bathroom. She’d already emptied her bladder, knowing that further bathroom trips were dangerous because they might result in her pooping as well. Her walk home felt slightly longer than usual due to her need to be careful about accidentally having an accident before she got home, but she persevered, and made it home safely.

“How was your day at school?” Her mother’s welcoming voice wafted out of the living room.

”Fine, I have quite a bit of homework tonight, big test tomorrow” she responded, going to briefly see her mother before ascending the stairs to her desk, in her bedroom. Ally was at a choir practice session, so she had the room to herself. 

The causes of the fall of the Roman Empire, while undoubtably fascinating, failed to capture her attention. The pressure in her bowels was building, and she’d normally be finding a bathroom rather quickly, in hopes of preventing a real accident. As she heard her mother call everyone down for dinner, she smiled, realizing that having a real accident tonight was not a concern.

Her father’s troubles at work were never of particular concern to Grace, but he found the need to regale the family with them, much to the boredom of both Grace and Ally. After almost an hour of discussion about his colleagues various failings, their mother intervened, suggesting that it was time for Ally to go bathe.

Grace knew that this was her opportunity, and not a moment too soon. Ally was dismissed, and Grace quickly cleared the table before going up to her room. She waited until the water had ran for several minutes, and the splashing sounds from the neighboring bathroom indicated that Ally was in the tub. Through the wall, she shouted to her sister:

”How much longer until you’re out?”

”Only about 4 minutes” 

Grace knew that this was manifestly untrue, but took her at face value.

”Ok, I’ll wait until then!”

After another minute, she stood up, walked towards the bathroom, and let go, allowing her rather full bowels to empty into her underwear and leggings. Now the owner of a rather large bulge in the seat of her pants, she shamefully waddled down to the kitchen, where her mother was, and half-whispered “Mom, I had another accident. I’ve been feeling nauseous all day, and I think I have a stomach flu”

 


 

 

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Grace’s mother was worried about her: it wasn’t like her to have accidents, and certainly not to poop herself twice in as many days. While she didn’t have a high temperature, it was decided that she would stay home from school tomorrow in case she did have a stomach bug, both for her own comfort and to avoid passing the bug onto others. In the mean time, Grace, after cleaning up, showering, and giving her soiled clothes to her mother, was brought back down to the living room to watch finish her homework and email her teachers while her parents watched the evening cable news. She was given strict instructions to stay hydrated, use the bathroom regularly, and make sure to avoid over-exerting herself. 
 

Grace was quite willing to closely follow these instructions, and knew that her mom’s acknowledgment of her bowel “issues” being more than coincidental meant she was free to proceed with the next phase of her plan. As she studied for her test, she reflected on the sensation of pooping in her pants, and decided that while it wasn’t pleasant or something she’d seek out without ulterior motives, the worst part by far was the clean-up afterwords and the liquid that had a tendency to run down her leg, especially because of the laxative’s effects on the consistency of her stool. After a bit of time had passed, and the first segment of outrage d’jour came to a close in the background, Grace got up and headed upstairs to the bathroom. She sat down on the toilet and peed as usual, but this time, instead of pulling her pants back up, she took off her sweatpants and underwear, took one of her sister’s pull-ups out of the cabinet, pulled it over her feet and up onto her waist, and pulled her underwear and sweatpants back up over it. Checking to make sure that it wasn’t immediately obvious (her parents discovering it at this moment wouldn’t fit her plans very well), she felt a thrill of excrement race through her body. The worst was over: the few more poop accidents she was forced to have to achieve her goals would be properly contained, and her end goal was definitively in reach. Pausing to pull her thoughts back to the present, she reminded herself that she didn’t intend to use the pull-up she was currently wearing for quite a bit of time.

She headed back down to her spot at the kitchen table, surprised by how unobtrusive the dry pull-up felt beneath her normal clothing. Slightly distracted, she continued on her work, knowing that her wearing a pull-up now was not crucial, but taking secret pleasure in the thought that even though she didn’t intend to, and she hadn’t had an actual accident for years, her undergarments were well-prepared for any release of bodily fluids.

When the time came for her to go to bed, she went about her bedtime routine like normal, with one key exception: rather than changing in the open area of her room, as was her custom, she decided to change in her bunk, knowing that if her sister happened to wake, she wouldn’t immediately see her sister in one of her pull-ups. Making sure that the wasteland of her GoodNite was well-concealed by her pajamas, she went down, said goodnight to her parents, and went to bed, her palms sweaty after her first padded interaction with her parents. 

Drifting off to sleep, Grace realized that the next few days were going to involve a lot of crap that hopefully would be over by next Monday. If not by then, she’d have to take more drastic measures.

The next morning, she woke up to sunlight filtering through her blinds. Because she hadn’t had to set her alarm, her sister was already off to school, and her father already off to work. After informing her mother that she thought she felt better, but wasn’t sure, she proceeded with her normal morning ritual at a more relaxed pace, making sure to remember to take more Miralax.

For most of the rest of the morning, she read next to her mother, who was busy replying to emails. She hadn’t expected to need to poop again until late in the day, or even tomorrow, but by mid-morning, she began to feel the need to go, and it escalated quickly. Elated that the Miralax appeared to have been a successful investment-it would make these next few days much easier and more believable-Grace carefully planned her second real test of her pull-up. 
 

By the time it was lunch time, she was starting to get quite desperate for the bathroom. She knew that if she wanted to avoid another messing, she needed to make her way onto the toilet rather quickly. However, she also knew that her leaving a few clues for her parents was key to crafting her story later on, so she refrained from getting up to her book. 
 

She and her mother sat down to eat lunch, reheated leftovers from the sausage they had had last night. Her portion was small, and heavy on the rice in an attempt to assuage her suffering stomach. Grace showed the futility of that goal by the end of the meal. As they cleaned off their plates, chatting about grades, trips, and the news, Grace’s need to relieve herself grew to an unbearable level, and relieve herself she did. Her bowels emptied themselves into her pull-up with the noise of a fairly loud fart, and her mother turned to look at her.

”Are you ok?” She was clearly worried about another accident.

Grace was tempted to confess, but she knew it would pay off in the end. “Yep, I’m fine, I just need to go to the bathroom” she said, turning and walking towards the stairs. As she turned around, a grin grew on her face: while her GoodNite was undoubtably full, her accident had been fully contained, as far as she could tell. She went upstairs to the bathroom, and changed into a fresh GoodNite, taking care to wipe all feces off of herself first and flush the toilet. The thoroughly soiled Goodnite went in the same scent-proof can, but she took care to tuck it beneath the top layer of used pull-ups, an operation that she didn’t hesitate to wash her hands after.

The next several days proceeded similarly. On Friday and Saturday morning, she once again observed her sister wetting herself more for convenience than by necessity, and the same thrill raced through her again By Saturday, Grace’s mysterious “stomach bug” was deemed to have passed, and she prepared to go back to school on Monday, despite having not pooped in the toilet for 5 days. She had messed herself in front of her family several more times, but carefully wearing only bulky clothing had allowed her accidents to stay concealed for the time being. As she went to bed on Saturday night, her waist safely wrapped in a pull-up, she determined that it was time to take action. Ideally, she’d be discovered wearing a full GoodNite, for maximum sympathy, but she’d prefer to not make it too obvious, and orchestrating that could prove difficult, as she always changed immediately. 
 

The next morning, she woke as normal, and preformed the same morning routine. While the girls could sleep or read in on Saturdays, it was expected that they would practice their respective musical talents on Sunday mornings. By the time her obligatory piano practice was over, it was mid-morning, and Grace desperately needed to use the bathroom. However, rather than relieving herself, she decided to wait, knowing what came next on Sundays: a trip to the nearby park, so that the family could walk, skip, or run around in nature. The only bathrooms available at the park were porta potties.

After the family was successfully wrangled and in the car, the stereo was playing wait-wait-dont tell me, and everyone had successfully buckled their seatbelts, Grace’s need to use the bathroom began to grow to the point where she knew from recent experience she wouldn’t be able to hold it much longer. Seizing the opportunity, she inquired as to their progress:

”Mom, how long till we’re there? I need to use the bathroom.”

”About fifteen more minutes. Can you wait that long?”

”Yep, I should be fine.”

 This last statement was a blatant lie. Long before they had arrived at the park, Grace’s undergarments were filled with the contents of her bowels, the noise safely concealed by the general ruckus in the car. Normally, she’d change out of her GoodNite at this point, but (by design) she didn’t have another one to change into, so she was going to test out the other function of protection: how well it could hold messes for longer periods of time.

At the park, everyone unloaded, and Grace-pointedly-didn’t go to the bathroom. This didn’t go unnoticed by her mother, who prompted her to at least try to go, especially given the events of the week. She agreed, and reluctantly trudged off towards the portapotty. When she arrived inside, rather than pulling down her pants, she merely washed her hands and disarrayed her shirt such that the wasteband of her GoodNite was clearly visible sticking up above the waist of her pants. Biting back nervous shivers, she walked out of the portapotty, pull-up on display.

Her mother managed to not notice the GoodNite when she rejoined the party, but her sister wasn’t one to miss other kids wearing protection. Using one hand to fiddle with it, and the other to repeatedly tap Grace, she loudly demanded an explanation:

”Why are you wearing a pull-up?”

Grace outwardly crumpled as her parents looked at her, confusion on their faces.

”I’ve kept on having accidents” she replied, outwardly downcast.

”It’s ok, big girls have accidents to sometimes!” replied Ally, clearly enthused that she wasn’t the only one with less than perfect control of her waste.

Grace’s mother finally seemed to understanding, comprehension dawning on her face. “You had an accident just then, in the car, didn’t you? And when we were having lunch that day? Is your pull-up full now?”

Grace miserably nodded.

”So once you had two accidents, you’ve been wearing one of your sister’s  diapers ever since? How many accidents have you had? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Grave nodded some more, only to be interrupted by an angry protest from Ally: “They aren’t diapers, Mommy! They’re big-girl pants! Diapers are for babies!”

Grace’s mother chuckled slightly, and reassured Ally that she was right. 
Grace finally spoke up: “I’ve had six accidents. I was hoping they’d just go away, and I was worried you’d think I was immature. I just wanted to solve the problem!”

”Oh, I’m not upset with you, sweet, I just wish I could’ve helped you! Let’s get you home and cleaned up, and we’ll schedule a doctor’s appointment. In the meantime, I agree that protection is a good idea.”

Grace was elated and triumphant as she was escorted back to the car. Despite the discomfort of a smushed mass of poop in her pants, she was thrilled at how well her plan had worked. Now to let her use these pull-ups like she wanted to, and make sure she could stop pooping herself!

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After Grace had showered, she put on a clean pull-up, pulled leggings over it (happy to be able to stop wearing baggy clothes) and went to talk to her mom. She knew that to maintain her story, she’d have to continue having at least semi regular poop accidents until her parents stopped paying as close attention. She considered starting to use her pull-ups like she wanted to: for urine at her convenience, but decided that the risk at the moment was too high for the temporary reward. She’d stick to her plan, which was centered on the ski trip they were taking in a few weeks.

In the meantime, though, she had a conversation to have. She found her mother in the living room, gave her a hug, and sat down next to her. Her mother realized that her daughter wanted to talk, and gently probed:

”How are you doing?”

”Ok. I’m glad you understand, and I hope the doctor will be able to figure something out.”

“I’m sure she will. What does it feel like to you when you have an accident?”

“I just feel like I normally would if I needed to go badly suddenly, but then instead of being able to hold it for another hour, if I don’t go to the bathroom in the next 3 minutes, it just comes out.”

”I’m so sorry. Before the doctor’s appointment, why don’t you try to try to go more often? I still think you should keep on wearing protection, because you won’t always be within 2 minutes of a bathroom”

”I’ve tried, but unless I’m desperate, I usually can’t go. I don’t know what’s wrong with me”

”it’s ok, sweet. We’ll get it figured out. I’ve schedule an appointment when we go for your sister’s physical in about a week. Do Ally’s pull-ups fit you OK? They say up to 125 pounds, so they should.”

”They fit fine, mom. Thanks.”

Grace, pleased with the outcome of the conversation, retreated to her room for most of the rest of the day. While she was reading her book, comfortably ensconced in a soft chair, she felt her bladder twinge. She  considered using her pull-up, but decided the risk was too great that her parents would see her walk to the bathroom afterwards, especially because the leggings she was wearing did only a passable job of hiding the pull-up when it was dry. She suspected they’d do almost nothing when it was wet.

Instead, she got up, went to the bathroom, sat on the toilet, and let her bladder go, finding it easier to flood her pull-up while sitting on the toilet. Once she felt the last few drops of her per be absorbed, she stood up, relishing the squishy warm feeling of the underwear between her legs. Looking in the mirror, she confirmed, as she expected, that her leggings had a very visible bulge that clearly told a practiced observer that they weren’t bone-dry. After a minute or two of feeling what it felt like to walk around in a sodden pull-up, she changed into a fresh one, the old one safely disguised as one of Ally’s. 

That evening, she pooped in the toilet for the first time since Tuesday. 

Monday was a school day, and while she would have preferred to not wear pull-ups while at school, she didn’t think she had much of a choice, at least for the first part of the day. However, she certainly didn’t plan to use them, and as long as she came up with a solution before Wednesday, she was pretty sure she’d be fine. 

In order to conceal her new underwear, she chose a long skirt with leggings underneath and an oversized hoodie. The weather was getting colder, so this wasn’t an abonormal choice, and she knew that it would be almost impossible to notice anything amiss under all of the layers of loose-fitting fabric. If the skirt happened to flip up briefly, the leggings should provide sufficient camouflage. This properly attired, she attempted to head out the front door, before being intercepted by her mother who reminded her to take an extra, well-hidden somewhere in her bag. After dashing back upstairs to get a spare, she headed off to a perfectly ordinary-but padded-day in school.

By 4th period, she was starting to feel the need to poop again. She knew she could safely make it home, or use the bathroom before getting on the bus, but decided not to. As she rode home next to Avery, she thought about her walk home, and picked a space in a nearby park that wasn’t in view of any noisy neighbor’s windows.

After passing Avery’s home, feeling the pressure building in her abdomen, she took the slight detour she had decided on. Once she reached the aforementioned spot, she let go, letting her poop fill her pull-up. She still didn’t enjoy this, but she had gotten used to the sensation, and even the vaguely squelchy feeling she got between her legs as she finished her walk home didn’t irritate her too much. 
 

As she entered the house, her mother quickly checked up on her, having worried about her eldest child wearing diapers to school again:

”How was the day?”

”It was fine. Nobody discovered what I was wearing, but I had an accident as I was walking home. I almost made it, but I couldn’t quite.”

”Well, that sounds alright. Why don’t you go get cleaned up. Don’t feel bad, if you only learned you needed to go 3 minutes earlier, there’s no way you could have made it through the bus ride and walk home. That’s why you’re wearing the pull-ups.”

Grace sullenly nodded, and headed upstairs to get cleaned up.

Tuesday proceeded in identical fashion, except rather than having an accident on the way home from school, she replicated her initial accident on the way home from her piano lesson. This time, she didn’t deny it:

”I just had another accident.”

”I’m sorry about that. Are you OK until we get home?”

”Yep, it’s a bit uncomfortable, but not too bad.”

On Wednesday, she did something slightly different: knowing she’d have Gym today, she chose not to wear a pull-up to school, but reassured her mother that she was wearing one when she asked on her way out the door. Feeling her bowels fill more quickly than normal during 2nd period (the Miralax was working) she made sure to use the bathroom during lunch, to avoid any real accident. While there, she disposed of the clean spare GoodNite she was carrying, wrapping it in the opaque plastic bag her mom had provided and burying it in the trash. Despite this, by the time she got home, she needed to use the bathroom again.

As she walked in the house, she settled on her story: 

“Hi Mom!”

”How was your day?”

”Not so great. Mr. Flynn doesn’t give bathroom passes, so I had an accident this morning. I wouldn’t have made it anyway-by the time I realized I needed to go, it was less than a minute away. I changed during lunch. It was fine.”

”I’m sorry. I can ask the teachers to make sure you always get bathroom passes, if you want.”

”No mom, then my friends would ask questions! It doesn’t matter anyway-there’s not enough time for me to get to the bathroom usually, because the bathrooms are somehow always halfway around the school.”

”Ok, just let me know”

Grace went upstairs, used the toilet, and diapered herself, happy that she’d managed to convince her parents she’d had an “accident” without actually having to poop herself.

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Hey! As you may have guessed, most of the messing content in the story should be over soonish. More use detail coming then as well! 

The rest of the week and the weekend passed uneventfully, and despite the discomfort it came with, having “accidents” started feeling less abnormal to Grace. While before, every use of her pull-up was accompanied by myriad worries and secret excitement, along with anticipation of the end result of her scheme, occasionally pooping in her pants began to feel like a fact of life, at least for another week or so. Much to her relief, she her parents had given her enough privacy that she didn’t have to use her pull-up every time she said she had an accident, but in order to make sure that they didn’t wonder why they never saw any evidence in the trash, she still had to produce soiled pull-ups occasionally, preferably while near her parents. In order to do so convincingly, she put herself in a situation in which the toilet would take more than a few minutes to become available, and then made it obvious that she needed to go about a minute before allowing her bowels to release. Her mom had eventually decided that asking her how she was doing after every accident was only embarrassing her, and decided to wait for the doctor’s appointment.

Normally, her pediatrician wouldn’t have been able to see her on such short notice, but her sister’s physical was scheduled for Monday, and the doctor’s office said she could squeeze her in right afterwards. 

All through the school day on Monday, Grace thought about her appointment with a mix of excitement and dread. She knew that there was a low chance of anything untoward happing, but she couldn’t help but worry that her story would be uncovered. On the other hand, the doctor’s appointment would hopefully result in her getting a more permanent license to wear protection that she could coopt to her own purposes. Grace had decided to hold her bowels until they arrived, allowing her to provide a demonstration if need be, but repeated her trick of disposing of the spare pull-up to fake having had an accident.

They arrived at the doctor’s office with little fanfare, and languished in the waiting room for a few minutes before being called back to a room. Grace checked where the bathroom was, and was pleased to note that it was a shared bathroom for the entire clinic and required leaving the building and walking a few feet. Her need to go was sufficiently intense that she could go at any point. The nurse read their charts, verified that both girls were comfortable having their appointment at the same time, and took their heights and weights before leaving them to allow for them to change into their paper gowns. Grace awkwardly verified with the nurse that she should continue to wear her pull-up.

After a few minutes of waiting, Dr. Park came in. She greeted them cheerily, and engaged in a few minutes of quick chatter about schools, activities, and life before getting down to business. 

Ally’s examination went smoothly. As her nose was being examined, Grace quietly expressed her need to go to the bathroom from across the room. Dr. Park quickly responded:

”Feel free to get changed back into your clothes, the bathroom is out across the way from the waiting room.” 

Grace, inwardly smiling about the fact that her assessment was correct, began changing back into her clothes at a moderate pace. It took her a minute or two to get changed back into leggings, skirt, sneakers, blouse, sweater, and jacket before she exited the room for the hallway. Purposefully dawdling slightly, she left the room, walked to the door of the bathroom, entered, and allowed her bowels to release, filling her pull-up with diarrhea. She walked back to the examination room, noticing Ally back in the waiting room with her face already buried in a screen. As she approached, she could hear Dr. Park and her mother talking, and decided to take a minute to evesdrop, mostly in case it was about her:

”...about her weight” Dr. Park’s voice sounded, along with the rustling of papers on a clip board.

”Really? I know she’s built bigger than her sister, but it just seems like baby fat to me”

”Yes. As you can see, a weight of 83 pounds-” 

Grace realized the conversation was not, indeed, about her, and decided to make her presence known. As she opened the door and entered the room, taking care to compose an ashamed face, her mother immediately knew what had happened:

”I’m sorry, sweet. Did you get cleaned up?”

“Not yet-I already changed once at school today, and I don’t have another with me.”

Dr. Park had quickly surmised what had happened, and took the opportunity to offer a solution. 

“We had protective undergarments here-they won’t be quite what you’re used to, but they should work. Let me ask my nurse to get one for you, and in the mean time, we can talk.”

Grace nodded. 

“What size clothing do you wear?”

“Normally somewhere between a girls 8 and a girls 14, depending on brand.”

Dr. Park chuckled. “Well, women’s clothing inconsistency starts in youth. Do you have any idea what dress size you are?”

”I tried on a 00 adult dress this summer, and it was a bit big?”

“Ok, I’ll be right back.” Dr. Park ducked out in the hallway, and briefly talked to a nurse, before coming back inside.

“Feel free to sit wherever you want, or stand-I know it can’t be comfortable to have to deal with that.”

Grace politely nodded, and elected to sit down on the examination table.

”So, you’ve been having trouble with fecal incontinence? When did you first notice an issue?”

”The Tuesday before last.”

”What happened? I’m sorry if it’s uncomfortable to remember, but I need to know to try and figure out what’s wrong.”

”We were driving home from my piano lesson, and all of a sudden, I needed to go to the bathroom. Normally, I’d have been fine to hold it until we got home or even later if I had wanted, but it suddenly got way worse, and then it just came out.”

”I’m sorry, that sounds terrible. Did this happen again? When did you start wearing protection?”

”It happened again the next day;my sister was taking her bath, and I couldn’t go to the bathroom until it was too late. From the time I realized I needed to go to when I had gone was only a few minutes. At the time, I thought it was a stomach flu, but I started wearing protection. It turns out that was the right call” she said with a bitter smile.”

”About how many accidents have you had since then? Don’t worry, I won’t think less of you because of it: I know you can’t control it.”

Grace made a show of briefly counting on her fingers. “11, I think.”

”Have you made it to the bathroom? About how much time do you have when you need to go?”

”I’ve made it a few times. I normally have about 2 to 3 minutes, so it only works if I’m right next to a bathroom. As you just saw, even the time it took for me to get changed and walk to the bathroom was too much. I’ve tried going regularly in preparation, but I usually can’t seem to go if I don’t desperately need to”

At this point, their conversation was interrupted by a knock from the nurse. Dr. Park slipped out again, and came back in holding a much bulkier tape-on diaper. “I think it’ll be a bit big for you, and I’m sorry it’s so different from what you’re wearing now, but it should work. I’d like to examine you, and then you can go change while I type up what I think we should to. Do you want me to step out while you change back into a gown?

”It’s ok.” Grace thought that would be a bit silly-after all, Dr. Park would be looking around and under the gown for her examination. 

Dr. Park began to fill in Grace’s chart as she removed her clothes and changed back into a gown, soiled pull-up still on underneath. Once that was done, she began her examination, finding nothing abnormal in her abdominal area, or anywhere else for that matter. Indeed, the only thing she was surprised by was how full the pull-up Grace was wearing was: based on her description of her symptoms, she had thought that severe constipation was the most likely cause, but the leakage of feces normally caused by that was much more minor than the full-blown loss of control evidenced by the bulge in the young girl’s pull-up in front of her. She also noted with amusement that the pull-up she was wearing was clearly intended for bed wetting, and was almost certainly from her sister’s supply. It seemed to be serving her fine for the time being, however, so she didn’t comment on it. 

She finished her examination, and sent Grace off to go get changed while she talked to her mother. 

Grace, after changing back into her clothes again at a rather more expedited pace, walked back to the bathroom, making sure to conceal her new protection well in her purse. Once she entered the stall, she cleaned herself up the best she could before trying to figure out how her new piece of protection was supposed to be worn. Careful examination didn’t yield much, suggesting only that this obviously more serious undergarment was some generic medical supply brand. Of slight interest to her was that unlike the baby diapers she had seen before, the tapes purported to be refastenable. She made sure to use the toilet before attempting to put her new protection on, failed miserably, and decided to rely on the pressure of her leggings to hold it in place until she got back to the exam room.

Back again she went, this time feeling like the bulge in her crotch was very obvious. Unlike the GoodNites, this diaper was not designed for discreetness, and felt like a pillow between her legs. Marveling at the increased thickness and implied increase in capacity of her new underwear, she walked back in the door to the examination room.

”All changed?” asked Dr. Park.

”Mostly-I don’t think I got the tapes on right. Would you mind checking just in case so I don’t leak?”

”Of course not! Again, I’m sorry about this. Why don’t you get on the table?”

Grace dutifully hopped back up on the table and followed Dr. Park’s instructions, watching closely as she tightened the tapes around Grace’s waste. Once she was done, she stepped back, and announced “it’s a bit big, but it should work”

Grace was left with the very strange feeling of being effectively diapered by someone else for the first time in twelve years. It mostly helped that that someone had seen her since the last time she was in diapers, in similarly compromising situations, but she still felt a tinge of embarrassment. The newly fastened diaper cupped her groin closely, and somehow managed to feel even larger than it did previous. As she pulled her leggings and skirt back up, she realized she had been right walking in: her leggings revealed the outline of a rather thick diaper to any observer, leaving her skirt as the only layer of visual protection.

Dr. Park was ready to conclude the appointment: “I’m not quite sure what is wrong, but I have a few suspicions. One is that some poop is stuck in your rectum, and it’s messing up its normal function. Another is that there’s something upset in your GI tract that’s changing the consistency of your stool to an extent that you can’t hold it any more. There are a few other possibilities, but those are the main ones. In order to figure it out, we’re going to do a scan, but your insurance won’t cover it until the new year. We probably wouldn’t be able to get you in much before then anyway, so you’re going to have to wait a few months. I’m sorry, kiddo, but I know you’re tough, and you’ll get through this. There’s a good chance it will clear up on its own. In the meantime, keep wearing protection, and try not to worry about it too much.”

Grace nodded along, and departed to the waiting room to get her sister ready to go. As they got into the car, her thoughts are only on two things: when she could get to test out her only real diaper without fear of detection, and the skiing trip next weekend.

The car ride home was subdued: her mother clearly felt bad that she couldn’t figure out what was wrong, and Grace was quietly marveling at how thick her current underwear were. Once they got home, Grace quickly went up to the bathroom to change out of her clean diaper, but rather than put it in the pail, she discreetly brought it back to her room and tucked it under her mattress for easy access later. Her sheets wouldn’t be changed until the weekend, so as long as she retrieved it by then, she should have a chance to explore the capabilities of real diapers.

The rest of Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday morning were rather dull, but saturated in anticipation. She continued to worry about her mother discovering that she hadn’t actually worn a pull-up to school on Wednesday, but, thankfully, her secret remained undiscovered. During gym, she made sure to drink two full waterbottles, so that her bladder was full to bursting by the time she got home to an empty room. Rationalizing her desire to use a diaper as a wish to test out how much it could hold, she retrieved her diaper from under the mattress, went to the bathroom, guzzled another cup of water, taped up the diaper in the best initiation of Dr. Park she could preform, put her clothes back on over her diaper, fully hiding what she was wearing unless one looked up her skirt, and went back to her room to relax and read her book. 

Within minutes, her need to pee was too bad for her to concentrate on her book. She decided to see just how long she could hold it, suspecting that she didn’t have to worry about overfilling the diaper she was wearing. 

Before long, her need grew desperate enough that her previous tactic of sitting with muscles tensed was about to fail. She crossed her legs and shoved her hands into her crotch, putting pressure on it in a desperate attempt to stop the oncoming flood. Grace, in the few pee accidents she had had since she was potty trained, had never been a “leaker”: once she started to go, her whole bladder emptied. 
 

When she felt like she couldn’t hold it any longer, she stood up, hoping to squeeze a few extra minutes of control. Instead, the motion shocked her bladder into release, and she stood in a half-upright position as she felt warm pee cascade into her diaper, flow down her crotch, and be absorbed into the thirsty fabric that currently swaddled it. The accident was over in under a minute, leaving her diaper warm and engorged. She peeked at the outer shell, and noticed that a blue line had started to fade at the tip, suggesting that the diaper was wet but still had plenty of capacity.

Grace, thrilled with the results of this first accident and emboldened by the absence of her sister, decided to continue with her initial plan. She went back to the bathroom, noting the unusual thickness of the diaper between her legs, and guzzled several more cups of water, hoping to accelerate the filling of her bladder and realizing that it would take quite a few wettings to fill the diaper. She then returned to her room, and continued to read her book as her bladder started to twinge.

This time, she resolved to try something slightly different, and as her desperation grew, Grace didn’t respond. She allowed her bladder and urethra muscles to do whatever they did naturally, but she didn’t move her legs, arms, or hands in any way to assist. Instead, she kept her concentration of the book in front of her, simulating her eventual dream of not having to think about her bladder at all.

Eventually, Grace felt a new cascade of warmth enter her diaper, resoaking and reheating clammy fabric. Because she was sitting this time, different areas of the diaper absorbed most of her accident. She realized that she was impressed by how long her brain alone had resisted before giving in to the inevitable tide. It seemed as though all of her contortions had only enabled another minute or two of control. She slowly walked to the bathroom again, relishing the feel of a warm diaper between her legs. It was starting to get swollen enough that it impeded her normal gait.

Once she was in the bathroom, she checked the time and peeked at the wetness indicator on her diaper again. It was appreciably more faded, but it was comfortably under 50%. She was sure that the diaper would contain at least two more full wettings, but she was running out of time: her mom had gone to pick up her sister, and it was almost dinner time. The rest of her family would be home in about five minutes.

Grace decided to take a calculated risk. She went to the sink, and quickly drank another two glasses of water. She then looked in the mirror, and realized that despite the significant swelling of her diaper, her dark and opaque loose skirt still completely concealed the outline of her underwear. Just in case, she went back to her room, and put on her oversized hoodie, knowing that it came down to midway on her butt, further disguising any outlines.

She then went back to her homework, and waited for her mother to arrive with her sister and her father to arrive with Chinese takeout for dinner.

The food was excellent, and Grace took advantage of the slight spice to drink several more cups of water. At this point, she was feeling rather bloated, and by the end of their meal, she was desperate to pee once again. She waited for the conversation between her parents to reach a brief high in intensity and for Ally’s attention to wander off before she allowed her tired bladder muscles to release, dousing her diaper with yet another cascade of warm urine. She was shocked at the capacity of her new underwear, as her previous pull-ups would certainly have leaked by this point. However, the diaper ably contained her pee, leaving her once again with a warm diaper as she cleared the table. Her family, thankfully, hadn’t noticed anything.

After clearing the table, she retreated up to her room to do some quick phone research. Apparently, the capacity of medical diapers like these was rated at 4000 mL of pee, but in real conditions, it was more like 1500 mL. Teen girl’s bladder capacity was a bit more difficult to find, but it seemed like 250-400 mL was a fair range, and because she’d always had to go to the bathroom often, she figured she had a bladder capacity of about 250 mL: in other words, she could safely wet her diaper three more times.

She decided to see whether she could manage to dodge her inevitable wake-up to go pee using the diaper.

When she was almost done with her paper on the fall of the Roman Empire, she was rudely interrupted yet again by the call of her bladder. She knew that if she was interrupted, she’d loose 15 minutes trying to remember where she was, so rather than get up or make an attempt to hold for a longer period of time, she simply released her bladder as soon as she felt the first twinge of need. With a warm diaper between her thighs, she continued to write, and finished quite quickly. As she uploaded it to the LMS software her school used, she started internally celebrating: diapers not only were convenient to pee in, they also brought her productivity gains. The diaper between her legs was starting to feel noticeably damp and very heavy, but a quick check of the wetness indicator showed that it was only about 2/3 full.

After messing around on her phone a bit, she went to say goodnight to her parents, careful to  avoid any contact that could give away her secret, she then finished getting ready for bed, changing to pajamas that weren’t quite as good at obscuring her diaper than the leggings and skirt, but were sufficiently baggy that it wasn’t obvious. One unexpected side benifit of the change was that her diaper grew noticeably drier: it seemed that the leggings were restricting its swelling and absorbency. 

She dozed off in bed, and was almost asleep when the familiar need to pee shook her awake. Pulling off her covers, she rose to go to the bathroom, at which point the weight of the diaper between her legs reminded her that there was no need. Laying back down, she relieved her bladder, and quickly dozed off again.

The next morning, she woke, as usual, at 6:00 am sharp, her bladder demanding relief an hour before she had to be awake. In her morning confusion, she did the exact same thing as the previous night, getting out of bed unnecessarily before realizing the foreign object in her crotch. She settled back into her covers, and relieved herself one last time. Once she was done, feeling the flood of warmth around her crotch cease, she checked the wetness indicator and watched as the last remnants disappeared. She checked her alarms, and settled back into bed, ready to get an extra hour of sleep to face the day.

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She woke up to the sound of her alarm, an uncommon experience for her: she often had trouble going back to sleep after her early morning bathroom visit. Before getting out of bed, she realized that her diaper would likely be somewhat obvious through her pajamas, so after verifying that Ally had already gone downstairs, she went to the closet and grabbed her bathrobe to pull on over her pajamas.

This way, if she ran into her parents on the way to the bathroom, she could comment about the chilly morning while remaining discreet. Her fears turned out to be unwarranted, however, and she made it to the bathroom without encountering anyone else.

Grace’s diaper felt incredibly heavy and full between her legs. She pulled off her pajamas and bathrobe, getting ready to take her shower, and looked in the mirror. The previously white fabric of her diaper was now yellow-tinged, and the wetness indicator on the front had completely faded. The diaper was starting to sag from its weight, and was massively swollen compared to how it had been when she had put it on. She moved to take it off, and get in to the shower, but realized that her morning need to pee frequently had already started to return. Instead, she went to stand in the shower without taking her diaper off and released her bladder a final time, feeling yet again the warm flow of urine into the soaked diaper. This time, before she was halfway done, she felt the absorption of the diaper slow down dramatically, and by the time she was done, pee had began to run down her leg from a unabsorbed pool in the crotch of her diaper. She stood for a moment, getting over the rush of peeing her diaper, and then stripped it off, bundled it up, and buried it in the pail of pull-ups.

After showering, she put a GoodNite on again. Given how oblivious her family was to her wetting the thicker diaper, she was tempted to start using the pull-up regularly, but she opted to wait instead, knowing the risk she took had been imprudent. Instead, she went about her day as normal.

As she woke up the next morning, she felt a thrill of excitement run through her body. Her family was driving to the mountains to go skiing this evening, a day she had been waiting for for almost a month. The school day seemed to pass interminably slowly.

Grace decided she had no wish to have an “accident” later in the car, and likely be forced to sit in her poop for hours, so she messed her pull-up while walking home from school instead. She got changed and cleaned up right as her mother began to enlist the help of both girls to get ready and packed for the trip.

After some minor tomfoolery, delays, and “missing” items, clothes, ski clothes, skis, ski gear, food, and plenty of GoodNites were safely stowed in the trunk of the car. Her mom quickly verified with Grace that she was wearing clean protection, and made sure that she had a spare, before grabbing another pull-up for her sister to change into after dinner, when she normally fell asleep. After last minute dashes to grab water bottles, books, and devices, the family was on their way.

The first leg of the trip went smoothly, and they made it to the Mexican restaurant at which they always stopped for dinner safely. As they sat down at the table, Grace noted her thirst: “I’m glad I’ll get to refill my water bottle here, I ran out a while ago.” She then set to drinking the glass of water in front of her. When it came time to order, Grace decided to ask for spicier salsa than she normally did in her burrito. Due to the spice, she ended up drinking several more glasses of water, but still ended up with her eyes watering, a condition her parents expressed bemused sympathy for. Grace was cautiously optimistic about the success of her plan at this point, because she’d managed to drink a significant amount of water without inciting concern.

As her father settled the bill, both girls were sent to the bathroom to try to mitigate any accidents on the road, though it was always futile in Ally’s case. Grace took care to imitate the actions of going to the bathroom without actually trying to do so, knowing that because she didn’t feel the need to go yet, she’d be able to safely hold her bowels for the remaining two and a half hours until they got to their destination, and wanting to preserve the quickly mounting pressure in her bladder. Grace then helped Ally get her pull-up on, and the family got back on the road, heading up into a mountainous approach to a pass.

Grace waited until they were out of any urban or suburban area and the lights of a truck stop were a few minutes behind before commenting on her need to use the restroom. 
“Mom, I need to pee.”

”Ok, we’ll find a gas station up ahead somewhere.”

Her dad interjected at this point, pointing out that there wouldn’t be a gas station for half an hour or more.

”Do you think you can hold it till then?”

”I should be fine, I just drank a lot of water at the restaurant-I shouldn’t have gotten the spicy salsa!”

About 10 minutes later, they had gotten to the section of road that Grace had been holding in her mind for the past few weeks. As the road got steeper, it was cut increasingly narrowly into the side of the mountain, and there was no room to pull over. She was legitimately desperate to use the bathroom at this point, and was squirming around in her seat and holding herself to show it.

”I really need to go, mom”

”I’m sorry, sweet, but I can’t do much until we get past this area.”

”How much longer?”

”About 20 minutes.”

Grace nodded, and went back to attempting to hold her bladder. She knew from her experience the day before yesterday that she only had about 10 minutes left. She let 8 of those pass, staring at the clock in agony, before expressing her desperation:

”I don’t think I can hold it, mom. I’m going to wet myself.”

Grace was somewhat surprised her mom hadn’t pointed out the obvious by now: she was wearing a pull-up.

”Well, try to hold on, and we’ll find a spot to pull over soon.”

”I don’t think I’m going to make it. Do you want me to find a towel or-“ 

At this point, Ally cut her off.

”Gracey, you’re wearing a pull-up like me. Just use it!”

“Thanks, Ally. I’m going to try to hold it, but I’ll keep that in mind.”

Her mom, while not exactly forgetting about Grace’s accident troubles, hadn’t remembered that she was wearing the same protection as Ally wore when she wet the bed in the heat of the moment. Relieved that her older daughter had a solution, she said “Ally’s right: if you can’t make it, it’s ok, that’s what your pull-up is for. We can change at the next stop.”

Grace nodded, too desperate to speak coherently, and internally pumped her fist. Her plan had worked, if a little differently than she’d been expecting. 

A minute later, her best efforts were for naught, and she flooded the GoodNite with pee. After wearing the diaper, it felt almost laughably thin, but it did a good job of holding in her accident.

”Mom, I wet myself.”

”I’m sorry, sweet. We’ll get you changed soon.”

In about ten minutes, they indeed arrived at a gas station, and Grace went in to change. Ally, kept awake for longer than usual by the excitement, remained in the back seat listening to her audiobook through her headphones. Her pull-up was also wet, as she had experienced a similar need to Grace, but hadn’t bothered to express it to anyone else or try to hold, instead figuring that she was already wearing a pull-up, and there weren’t any bathrooms around.

The rest of the ride passed uneventfully, with Grace in a fresh pull-up. Once they got to their condo, Grace drifted off into a deep sleep, elated that she now had an excuse to wet her pull-up whenever the bathroom was inconvenient. 

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The next morning, they attempted to hit the slopes as the lifts were opening, but as always, were half an hour delayed. Grace was accustomed to taking her morning dose of Miralax discreetly, but was unable to do so this morning. She wondered how quickly she’d notice the effects of not taking it. After breakfast, everyone got suited up, Grace with her pull-up still on underneath her ski pants. Normally, she’d have to stop skiing and return to the lodge a few times each day to relieve her bladder, but she didn’t anticipate doing so today, outside of the need to get herself cleaned up from the messy accident that she could already feel building in her abdomen. She was a bit worried about her pull-up leaking, so she made sure to pee in the toilet before hitting the slopes. Grace and her mother typically skied together while her father snowboarded with Ally in the kiddy areas, so the two of them headed off up one of the black lifts. The air was chilly, especially as they rose higher on the mountain. Once they got to the top they stopped to briefly consult the map before skiing down a steep and moguled run to access another lift, which serviced a bowl that was supposed to have fresh powder. It lived up to their expectations, and by the time they had rode the same lift 3 more times, Grace started to feel the need to pee. Not entirely confident in her ability to ski well while peeing, she waited until they got back down to the lift line before letting go, feeling the very strange sensation of her pee slowly causing her pull-up to expand under her long underwear and ski pants. Crotch warmed with the heat of her urine, she hopped on the lift, only to realize that her need to poop had grown increasingly desperate. She probably could have made it back to the base camp if they had headed there now, but that would require a few different lifts, many of them less fun to ski. Instead, she decided to wait another run, temporarily ignoring her bowels as she flew down the slopes.

On the next run down, she pulled to the side of the bowl, feeling her stomach cramp in desperation. As her mom swerved to a stop next to her, she pulled down her neck gaitor, and said “Mom, I need to go poop. There’s no way I’m going to make it from here. I don’t think I can hold it even until we get back up the lift, much less until we get back to camp.”

”Sorry sweet. I guess you’ll have to use your pull-up.”

Grace nodded, and seemed to freeze for a moment, standing in place slightly crouched as she released her bowels. Under all of her layers of warm clothing, she knew there was no way anyone could tell. She would have preferred not having to ski in her poop, but she also knew it was unrealistic for her to go a day with no easy access to the bathroom without having an accident, and this was as good a time as any. She then took off down the hill, feeling the squishy mess between her legs with every turn.

Her underwear squelched as she plopped down onto the lift chair, covering her butt with poop and mashing the mess out towards the sides of the GoodNite. She knew that they weren’t really designed for poop, and realized that leaking was a legitimate concern. She and her mom slowly journeyed back to the lodge, where they went in for an early lunch, accompanied by proper hot-chocolating and hydration, and a change.

After lunch and attired with a clean pull-up, Grace looked forward to an uninterrupted afternoon of skiing. Because of the high risk of accidents while skiing, Grace had packed a second clean pull-up with her, meaning she could wet without fear of discovery as long as she used the bathroom in the lodge at least once before stripping down at the end of the day.

The first few runs proceeded uneventfully as they got back over towards the advanced areas of the mountain. After one or two more runs, Grace felt a twinge of pressure mount in her bladder on the chair up. Deciding not to use her protection quite yet, she headed down the slope, and back to the chair for another run, growing increasingly desperate. By the time she was at the top of the decidedly non-express lift, she was desperate to go, and decided to try skiing and peeing once she got past the technical first section of the run. Unfortunately, she caught an edge in a patch of uneven snow, and ended up tumbling for a few feet down the hill. She wasn’t injured, but the shock of her fall shook her enough that it took until she had gotten both skis back on her feet and stood up that she realized her previous desperate need to pee had been assuaged, and her GoodNite was now bulkier and warm between her legs. She chuckled to herself, and continued skiing.

Later that afternoon, however, her goal of skiing while peeing was more successful, and accomplished by more passive measures. On the first run she had tried to pee on, her bladder refused to give in, throwing some error message at the thought of releasing while pumping her legs. Instead, she waited for the next cycle, doing her best to conceal her desperation as cold during the chair ride. She was able to do this surprisingly well, as shivering while pressing together her legs and sticking her hands between them fit both problems nicely. On the next run down, she was desperate to go, but once again denied conscious relief. One more chair trip up left her barely able to stand and ski at the same time, and a slightly jarring turn triggered a true accident, pee flooding her already wet diaper as she skied down the mountain. The sensation was novel, as she could feel her GoodNite swinging even as it struggled to absorb a second full wetting. On the lift again, she realized that her underwear were on the verge of leaking, and remained damp to the touch of her thighs. 

The next time Grace needed to pee, the lifts were about to close, so she suggested they make their way back to the lodge. Grace realized she needed to justify taking the extra time to change in the bathroom, lest her mother’s familiarity with the appearance of a soaked GoodNite give her away. On the last chair, she tapped her mother and half-whispered “I need to poop again.” 
“You might be able to make it back to the lodge, but if not, don’t worry.”

Grace nodded, and turned back to looking ahead. Once they got to the bottom, her mother looked quizzically at her, and she shook her head, apparently downtrodden under her helmet and neck warmer. She headed into the lodge while her mother tried to spot the other half of their family.

Entering the warm stall, Grace began the laborious process of pulling off all of her clothing to access the soaked GoodNite. At this point, she was quite desperate to pee yet again, as she had chanced drinking far more liquid than she normally did during lunch, knowing that peeing wouldn’t interrupt her skiiing. She wondered how a leaky GoodNite would feel compared to a leaky diaper, so rather than changing immediately, she sat down on the toilet, soaked underwear sagging slightly into the bowl, and wet herself once more.

She had been right that the GoodNight was full to bursting: almost immediately, her pee began to leak out the sides of the crotch area, and very little was absorbed. Once she was done, she changed back into a fresh GoodNite, wrapped her used one in a plastic bag, disposed of it in the trash can, and pulled on all her clothing once more before heading out to greet her mother.
 

 

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As they drove back to their condo, Grace thought about her overfilled pull-up. She certainly had appreciate being able to go without using the bathroom for the afternoon, and she kind of enjoyed the feeling of wetting her pull-up, but the GoodNite had been fully saturated after only two wettings, which wasn’t ideal. She wondered if she could have squeezed in a third if she hadn’t waited until her bladder was completely full the first two times, but she remembered how quickly her pull-up had started to leak into the toilet: the warm damp fabric had refused to accept any more liquid, and had acted only as a container for the pee. The flexible leak guards had quickly spilled the majority of her urine into the toilet, meaning that her pants would have been totally soaked if she hadn’t recognized the need to change. With that said, she didn’t see a realistic path to getting thicker diapers at any point in the near future, and the discrete nature of the GoodNite came with significant advantages. If she managed it properly, she shouldn’t ever have to deal with needing to pee again, at least for the foreseeable future. 
 

That evening, in accordance with their tradition, they watched the Goonies. As usual, Ally was diapered in preparation for her inevitable dosing off, but this time, she wasn’t the only one. 

A third of the way through the movie, Grace felt the familiar urge to use the bathroom. She wasn’t suprised by this, especially because she had just felt the still-very-awake Ally’s pull-up suddenly heat up on her thigh, a sensation that she was now quite familiar with. She realized that Ally’s proximity might pose an issue for her own wetting, so she shifted around a bit, expressing discomfort through her body language. Eventually, through whispers and gestures, she managed to convince Ally to lift her body up for long enough for her to get a pillow underneath, ostensibly for her comfort. Thus safely isolated, Grace released her bladder, and felt the now-anticipated rush of warmth in her crotch and gentle tingle up the rest of her body. Once she was done, and the liquid was safely absorbed by the polymers of the GoodNite, she leaned back, content with finally watching a movie uninterrupted.

As she lay in bed, damp pull-up and all, Grace realized that she had only peed directly in the toilet once that day, in the morning. Every other time, it had simply been more convenient to use what she was fast coming to think of as an extended bladder.

The next morning, she was waken as usual by the call of her bladder. As she woke up, she noticed that she had to poop as well, but not nearly as urgently. She had to get up slightly earlier than normal in order to get ready to ski, but she still had a while before she had to expose herself to the chilly morning air and leave the warm den of her sheets. Unfortunately, the pressure in her bladder was fast mounting, forcing action upon her. Fortunately, she was wearing a pull-up with enough capacity for at least one more wetting. She decided to do nothing, allowing her to preserve her state of perfect morning bliss. She looked out the window, ignored the quickly rising need to urinate, and reflected on the beauty of pine trees in fresh snow. It didn’t take long before her morning need became a morning accident, and her inner thighs were engulfed in slowly-absorbing liquid. She grabbed her book, and read for the next twenty minutes.

After that, it was time to start getting ready again. Unfortunately, Grace realized that there was an issue: unlike at home, the surplus of wet but not messy pull-ups might be noted by her parents. The previous day, this hadn’t been an issue, because she had disposed of all of her dirty pull-ups at the lodge, but she couldn’t very well explain a wet pull-up while she was at the condo. Instead, she hopped back under the covers, and put her best bleary-eyed sleepy teenager look on, which wasn’t particularly challenging.

One of the perks that came with being a bedwetter was that Ally always got the first shower in the morning. Within a few minutes, Grace watched through lidded eyes as Ally left the room, walked down to the bathroom, and closed the door. Soon, the sound of rushing water followed. Grace waited for a minute of two more, then hopped up as well, went to the bathroom and knocked on the door, asking how much longer Ally would be. She didn’t get a clear answer, but she knew that “Just a little bit” meant she had plenty of time. She loitered by the bathroom door for a minute or two more before trying to go poop. However, her not-quite-desperate state and the absence of Miralax yesterday morning meant that rather than having an accident as soon as she stopped holding, she had to squat slightly and push, and her poop slid out in a far more coherent form into her pull-up, leaving less of a mess for the time being. She knew, however, that as soon as she sat down, it would squish all over her, making just as much of a mess.

Thankfully, Ally was out within another five minutes, allowing Grace a chance to go in and change her now very overworked pull-up. She pulled her pj bottoms off and looked in the mirror, noting the sagging of the pull-up, the significant bulge in the seat, and the overall damp and swollen appearance that it had gained from engorging itself on her urine. She pulled of off, wrapped it up carefully, and discarded it in the plastic-lined trash can her mother had provided, taking care that it was obvious that it was messy. Hopefully, her mother either wouldn’t pay close enough attention to note that it was also soaked.

After another hour and a half that nobody could quite account for, her family was headed for the slopes. Grace had resolved to take an even more extreme path than yesterday, choosing to completely ignore her bladder today, and see where it took her. By the time the second round of desperation hit, it was getting close to 12:30 pm, so she decided to be purposefully ambiguous in what she told her mother as they were in the lift line, bladder already far past the state when she normally would have used the bathroom. 

“I really need to go to the bathroom, mom.”

”Just like yesterday, huh? That sucks, I’m sorry. We’ll head towards the lodge.”

”Thanks. I doubt I’ll make it, but I’d like to change.”

Grace was correct in her prediction, and as they were polling across on of the traverses nessecary to cross from the back side where they were skiing back to the main lodge, she lost control of her bladder. She hadn’t been particularly trying to hold, just thinking about other things, so she was somewhat shocked when she felt liquid splash through the pull-up. She was quite chilled from the high winds, so she appreciated the added warmth she got as they finished their crossing and headed down to the lodge for another change and a late lunch.

The afternoon required Grace to be somewhat more careful, as she was hoping to be able to avoid having to stop at a gas station on the ride home, and she knew that having two poop “accidents” in less than 3 hours was risky, especially if they were both fake. Instead, after wetting her clean pull-up once, she made sure to hold her bladder until she could use the lodge at the end of the ski day. This posed a slight issue for her, as she was stuck in a damp pull-up until she had a chance to change, and she still needed to get out of her ski clothes and into the sweatpants she had brought so they could stop for dinner without showing her protection off to the family. This ended up being slightly easier than she expected, as her parents had apparently decided that while her sister was still young enough to change in the trunk of the car, she was allowed to take her pants and change in the lodge bathroom.

Now respectably attired for a stop for dinner, they headed off, quickly arriving at the pizza place. It being a Sunday night, traffic was usually murderous on the way home, so what should have been a three hour drive often took more like six. Grace, preferring not to go through this in a damp pull-up (and wanting the additional capacity) managed to sneak in an additional pull-up into the bathroom where she was sent to go to make sure she had tried to go before getting on the road, and without her ski clothes and boots on, was able to effect a change in a reasonable amount of time. Knowing that they could be in the car till midnight, which would almost certainly trigger Ally to sleep, her sister was also safely pull-uped after she attempted, but was unable, to use the bathroom. 

With both girls properly protected, they got on their way home. About two hours into the drive, Grace considered making a point out of her need to pee and inability to reach the bathroom, but decided against it, realizing that she didn’t want to draw her parents attention to any sort of pattern at the moment. Glancing out the window as she nonchalantly relieved herself instead, she realized that the drive had gone much more quickly than anticipated, and they were most of the way home, even before Ally had gone to sleep.

Even as she thought this, she heard Ally starting to change into her pajamas, which were strategically placed by her feet. As she removed her old pants and lifted up her butt to get her pajama shorts on, Grace realized that her GoodNite was clearly soaked, as it sagged down far more than it did when dry. As Ally got herself situated for sleeping, she seized the opportunity to test the waters with her parents: “Ally, it looked like your GoodNite was falling off you-do you mind if I get it situated on you so you don’t leak?”

Ally shook her head. “I think it’s fine.”

At this point, her mom interjected-“You don’t want to leak in the car, Alls. You’d get your pajamas all wet. Why don’t you just let your sister check?” Ally had had occasional issues with having her GoodNite get twisted or stretched out of place, so she was leery of allowing any potential leaks in her car.

Ally knew that at this point, resisting wasn’t profitable. “Ok.”

Grace leaned over, and pulled down her pajama shorts slightly, and adjusted the GoodNite, confirming her suspicions that Ally had used it at least twice.

“Why is it so wet? It feels like it’s already full!”

Ally, with a vague sense of her wetting her pull-up on on purpose as bad, denied the situation. “I don’t know, it’s been like this since I put it on.”

Her mom, after glancing back to verify that Grace was right, said “No it hasn’t been, Alls. Remember? It was a clean one, out of the package. It’ll be ok, but you need to tell me the truth.”

Ally broke down at this point, and looking deeply distraught, confessed. “I just needed to go in the car, and didn’t want to stop, and I already had my pull-up on, and I was going to end up wetting it at night anyway, so I just used it now. Don’t be mad at me, you said it was ok with Gracey!”

Her mom gently responded. “I know, Alls, but that was different. We could have gone to the bathroom whenever you wanted if you had asked. Your pull-ups are only for accidents: they can’t hold enough pee if you wet them on purpose, so you’d have to wear diapers for babies, not big-girl panties.”

Ally meekly nodded. “Ok, mom. Can I change my pull-up, so I can go to sleep?”

Her mom reluctantly agreed, and one of the two wet pull-ups in the car was swapped for a dry one. Ally dozed off to sleep, and a few minutes later, they arrived at home. Grace fell asleep almost immediately as well, and woke up with a burning need to pee. Taking a moment to make sure she remembered how wet her pull-up was correctly, and suddenly realizing that she also needed to poop quite desperately, she let go, allowing her pee to flood her pull-up, fully saturating and reheating the clammy fabric. She decided to wait on pooping until plausible deniability was established, but knew she needed to use her pull-up to justify a change, and lay still in bed. After a few minutes, she heard the quiet noises of her sister waking up above her. Then, she heard a faint hissing sound permeate the silent air. Grace choked back a laugh: Ally’s behavior hadn’t changed one bit after last night. As her sister went to take a shower, she went to greet her parents, her bowels starting to demand release.

They briefly talked about scheduling for the week, but a few minutes into to the conversation, Grace began “I’ll be right back, I need-“ before glancing at the bathroom door and sighing. Her mother understood what had happened, and sympathetically continued their conversation. A minute later, the bathroom still closed, a rather loud and wet fart noise emanated from Grace’s pull-up, and her mother gave her a hug. The topic of their conversation transitioned as Grace sighed again:

”Lot on your mind?” asked her mother.

”Yeah, I was just thinking about skiing. I have so much fun, but I have to worry about the bathroom now, and I can never make it if I’m on the slopes. Then I have to worry about leaking while we ski back, and it’s not at all comfortable. It just sucks.”

”I’m so sorry, sweet. I wish there was something I could do. Hopefully, the scan tells us something, or it goes away like Dr. Park said.

“Yeah.”

Grace was mostly telling the truth: she didn’t enjoy having messy pants, mostly because she had to worry about leaks. She’d never had a full-blown containment failure, but she remembered the first few accidents when she hadn’t been wearing protection, and it wasn’t uncommon for her leggings to get some poop on them even with protection. The GoodNites just weren’t designed for poop, and even though they did surprisingly well, she needed to convince her mother to get her a thicker diaper, at least when she wasn’t at school. In the meantime, though, she had her first school day when she didn’t have to worry about hall passes or making sure to use the bathroom during passing periods to enjoy.

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I just realized one of the middle posts hasn’t been mod-approved yet, sorry for the confusion. Hopefully it’ll get straightened out soon. If you’re wondering what happened to the doctor’s appointment, or how Grace got a diaper, it’s all explained in the missing post!

As Grace rode the bus to school, seated next to Avery as usual, she looked out the window and decided on a plan for the day. She’d very much enjoyed ignoring her bladder yesterday, and she decided to do the same thing again today, neither going to the bathroom to relieve the slight pressure in her bladder she could feel or going to great lengths to hold it in. The result of this was slowly increasing need to go, followed by brief desperation in English that she continued to ignore, followed by sudden release into her pull-up. This was the first time she’d used her pull-up in front of her classmates, and she was careful to avoid showing that she had gone to the bathroom on her face. Thankfully, the classroom was noisy enough that the slight hiss wasn’t noticeable, and the cold weather lended itself to thick and multi-layered clothing that hid her wet GoodNite well. She repeated this same process towards the end of second period, now confident in her pull-ups ability to hold exactly two full bladders worth of urine. As class released, she hopped up and went to go get changed before lunch, trying to avoid waddling as she headed to the school bathroom stalls with soggy underwear. She didn’t encounter any difficulties, and as she headed to the cafeteria, she reflected that her gender conferred a slight advantage: nobody was surprised by a teen girl headed to the restrooms with a purse, or disposing of tightly wrapped products in the bathroom, and even a slight bulge in her crotch could be played off as a pad.

The rest of the day passed fairly uneventfully, until she got on the bus home. She’d been ignoring her bladder, causing her to wet herself once shortly after lunch. Now, she was starting to feel the need to go again, and knew that if she hadn’t been wearing a pull-up, she’d have used the bathroom before getting on the bus. Unfortunately, she was now stuck on the bus sitting directly next to Avery, which made discreet wetting hard. She decided to hold it until she got home, something easier said than done. Worst-case, she knew that the noise of the bus would likely disguise any accident, but she still thought the risk was somewhat imprudent.

Her need started to escalate as the bus ponderously travelled down the freeway, and she stuck her hands in her crotch, pressed tight against the already-wet GoodNite.

They had previously been talking about Avery’s social life at school, as Grace was more of a quiet nerd while Avery was very popular and socially exuberant, when Grace interjected into the conversation:

“I really need to go pee, I should hav engine before we left.”

Avery nodded, biting her lip, and Grace realized that in her desperation she had ignored the increasingly obvious desperation of her friend. Now that she noticed, she realized that Avery was at least as desperate to go as she was, and didn’t have any backup protection.

They continued to talk to take their mind off their increasingly full bladders, but by the time the bus came to a stop, Grace realized that she was about to wet herself, and cursed herself for forgetting that there was a section of the day where she couldn’t trust her pull-up. Avery got out of the seat, and slowly walked towards the front of the bus as the air brakes released, and Grace took the sudden moment of loud noise and lack of proximity to start peeing her Goodnite as she followed Avery. They started to walk towards Avery’s house, Avery truly desperate to go at that point, and Grace doing her best to to pretend the contents of her bladder weren’t currently in her underwear. Thankfully, she had an excellent model, as Avery was starting to have to hobble along, both hands in her crotch. As her house came into sight, she started for a moment, and said: “I just leaked pretty badly, my crotch is wet.”

Grace nodded in sympathy, and suggested they hurry home. Avery agreed, and Grace went off towards her house, straightening up as soon as she got out of sight. From the on, Grace was careful to go to the bathroom before she got on the bus.

The next day, Grace, mostly happy with the results of her escapades, did the exact same thing, wetting her pull-up at will. Deciding that for the time being, at least one witnessed poopy accident every two days was a good rate at which to convince her mother of her continued need for pull-ups, she used the bathroom for her morning poop, allowing her to get to her piano lesson safely. Midway through her lesson, she started to feel the need to pee again, and was careful to avoid wetting herself until she was walking out the door and back to the car, and headed back home in a very wet pull-up to get changed.

The next day was a Wednesday, meaning she couldn’t wear diapers to school because of Gym class. Instead, she was forced to use the bathroom during passing periods, and was probably over-cautious in doing so, using the bathroom in every passing period possible even when she didn’t need to go. This payed off for her: on the bus, when Avery was desperate enough to wet herself, Grace had gone only a bit over an hour ago, allowing her to be relaxed as she diapered her best friend.

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Stepping out of the shower, she went to check on her phone, and saw that she had frantic text messages from Avery.

”u rly won’t tell anyone, right?”

“That would be so embarrassing”

”I’d be dead at school”

”why aren’t you respondinggggg”

”ahhhhhhhhhh”

Grace shook her head, put a clean pull-up on, and started to write back.

“Ofc I won’t. you're my bf”

“Mmm. I’m so embarrassed right now. I know my parents don’t know, but I’m hiding in my room for some reason. You know on Monday? When we both needed to go pee?”

”Yeah?”

“I didn’t quite make it then either-I got in the bathroom, but then I lost control. I’ve wet myself twice in one week. I’m such a baby.”

Grace considered sharing that she’d wet herself many many times in the past week, but realized that just because Avery was embarrassed about loosing control of her bladder didn’t mean she’d be accepting about Grace wearing pull-ups and using them all the time. More messages came in.

”I’m so glad you had that diaper, you're mom is pretty smart, even though it’s weird.”

”yeah, she’s good at things like that. She used to always bring one places when I was younger, and once I started having my period, she insisted I carry one along with other stuff, just in case.

it was a good idea, I ran out of pads once, and had to use it, and it got me home fine. Before I forget, let me go replace it.”

”Does you're mom just keep a pack of diapers around?”

”no, Ally wets the bet still.”

”ohh, that sucks for her.”

”yeah, she’s not thrilled about it, but she doesn’t seem to mind too much. It’s still pretty common at her age.”

”yeah-I heard some crazy number like 3% of 14 year olds still wet the bed. I wonder who does at our school?”

”lol that must suck”

”yeah, srsly. All of this pee stuff is such a pain, I wish humans just had bigger bladders.”

”yeah, even just how often you have to go to the bathroom-you must waste almost half an hour a day.”

”lol yeah, that’s an interesting way to put it. Years on the toilet by the end of your life!”

”lol”

Grace’s heart quickened as she realized Avery might not be as opposed to diapers as she had thought. She wanted to take it slow, though, so she signed off with a final “hw time”

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Avery set her phone down as well, and reflected on the events of the last few weeks. She hadn’t told Grace quite the full story; not only had she wet herself twice that week, but she’d leaked badly while in the car home from lacrosse practice. She just couldn’t seem to hold it for as long as she was regularly expected to: if she was ever forced to go more than three hours without peeing, she almost always had trouble, or was very desperate at the very least, and she regularly pushed up against that amount of time-long classes without bathroom breaks, lacrosse, and long drives where she wasn’t careful about using the bathroom before hand all left her desperate, and she had to get out of bed at least once every night, woken by a desperate need to pee. She resolved to be more careful in the future, and try and drink less water whenever she might have an issue.

Meanwhile, Grace, curious about her sister’s vicarious wetting habits, decided to try to investigate a bit more. She didn’t want to get her sister in too much trouble, but she was intensely curious as to how her parents would react. Taking advantage of the time before her mom and sister got home, she went to the bathroom, grabbed a pair of nail scissors out of the cabinet, and made a slight incision around the crotches of the top two GoodNites. Putting them back in place, she checked her work, and confirmed that it took careful examination to notice. She then replaced the scissors and headed back to her room before beginning her math homework.

After dinner, Grace already in a wet pull-up, Ally went up to grab her GoodNite as usual and put it on. Grace just managed to stay nonchalant by browsing TikTok, explaining any brief grins away. Soon, her mother headed up to put Ally to bed. While she was waiting for her mom to finish reading, Grace went up to go to the bathroom and check that Ally had taken the sabotaged pull-up. Indeed she had, and Grace went back downstairs to await the arrival of her mother, soon followed by Ally if her suspicions were correct.

Her mother came down the stairs and started cleaning up the kitchen. Grace waited for a few minutes, knowing that Ally hadn’t used the bathroom before putting on her pull-up. Sure enough, she heard Ally’s footsteps on the stairs as she edged through the living room and into the kitchen, her pajama shorts clearly soaked.

”Mama? My GoodNite leaked.”

”I’m sorry sweet! Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Ally turned back to head up the stairs, suddenly lighter of step.

”Wait a minute, it’s only been five minutes since I left. Why were you using your pull-up?”

”I needed to pee all of a sudden, and I didn’t see any point in getting up and going to the bathroom! You’d just tucked me in. Please don’t be mad, mom.”

”I’m not made, sweetie, I just don’t understand: we talked about this the other day. Your pull-ups aren’t made for being wet on purpose, they’re just for accidents. If you keep on using them on purpose, you’ll have to go back to baby diapers, because big girls don’t pee in their pants on purpose.”

Ally nodded. “Ok, mom.”

Her mom decided that now was not the time to press her daughter on this, and went up to get her situated. She was well acquainted with wet bedding, and this went quickly. Grace felt slightly ashamed of the distress that she’d caused Ally, but knew that she likely wouldn’t even remember this time; leaks weren’t an irregular occurrence. Grace’s own voyeruism was further sated when she overheard her parents faintly talking: “Doesn’t seem to care ... might not be a bad idea to have them around, just to point to ... I guess she has a point, it’s not like she’s going to reuse them ... leaks ...” by this point, their voices trailed off, and Grace could make sense of the conversation. Before going to bed, she changed, making sure to not grab a leaky pull-up.

Thursday passed without incident, other than Grace demonstrating her “need” and further attempting to differentiate herself from Ally by refraining from using her pull-up in the morning before pooping her pull-up again, this time while her mom was in the bathroom, ostensibly delaying her for too long. She made sure to put the proper look of misery on her face as her mom exited, sympathetic to her daughter pooping herself right outside the bathroom door. While Grace cleaned up, she got ready for school the next day, making sure her pull-up was replenished in her purse before pulling yet another fresh one on. That night, she anticipated Ally coming down, soaked again, before realizing that she had accidentally grabbed the leaky one for her purse. She began to go up to put it back on the top of the pile, but when she got there, she realized it was imprudent to have a GoodNite mysteriously fail two nights in a row, so she instead buried it in the trash, not trusting herself to remember to not grab it anywhere else. She replaced the GoodNite in her purse, and went to bed.

Friday, however, was quite an exciting day. On the way to school, the bus broke down, stranding them on the edge of the road for an extra hour. Grace, already needing to go pee because she hadn’t bothered to go in the morning, relaxed, knowing that if they waited too long, she was wearing a pull-up. Avery, on the other hand, was struggling quite a bit more: she normally relied on ducking into the bathroom before her first period, to empty the second wave of morning desperation, but it was looking like she’d be unable to do that this morning, as she heard the bus driver announce that the bus had broken down. She shivered, and furtively whispered to Grace “Crap, I need to go pee.” She wasn’t desperate quite yet, thankfully, so she still hoped to make it to school. Grace nodded, “I hope the replacement bus comes soon.” They weren’t far from school, maybe five or ten minutes by bus, but they were stuck where they were until a replacement arrived. The friends continued to chat about boys and classes as Grace watched her friend’s growing need rise in tandem with her own. After about twenty minutes of waiting, Grace knew she’d start showing signs of desperation soon, so she discreetly peed, trusting the road noise and that of the bus heater to hide any hissing noise. Avery was not as lucky, and had stuffed her hands in the crotch of her leggings, squeezing tightly and hoping to avoid an accident. After a few more minutes, she nudged Grace, and whispered again: “I’m not going to make it.” Grace was very tempted to claim that she hadn’t replenished her diaper yet, and watch as Avery had an accident in her leggings, but she decided that would be a bit too mean-spirited. Instead, she nodded, and whispered back “Do you want to use my emergency pull-up? I didn’t realize you’d need it again so soon!” with a faint smile. Avery nodded, shamefaced. “I hate dealing with having a small bladder. It feels like the amount I need to pee goes up as I get bigger, but my bladder doesn’t get any larger.”

Unfortunately, Avery was wearing leggings, not a skirt, which made putting a pull-up a challenge, especially because Avery was clearly desperate at this point and not much of a help. Thankfully, they had the back of the bus mostly to themselves.

“Ok, you might not like this.” Grace whispered back. “But it’s better than going to school in wet leggings. you’re going to need to take your leggings off.”

Avery began to ask why, before looking at the underwear Grace held and realizing the exact reason. She reluctantly nodded, and after making sure nobody else was looking, pulled off her leggings after kicking off her sneakers. She then gave Avery the GoodNite, but before she put it on, she suggested that she take off her underwear as well, to keep them from dampening her leggings. Avery reluctantly agreed, and did exactly that, asking Grace to avert her eyes while she pulled the GoodNite up, and her underwear and leggings back over it. Still desperately trying to hold her pee, she attempted to rekindle a conversation with Grace, but was unable to hold up her end of the conversation. Grace, meanwhile, had noted how the GoodNites were barely visible beneath Avery’s black leggings, at least while dry. To her credit, Avery wasn’t giving in to the temptation of using her pull-up, and was managing to hang on for a surprisingly long time. When the new bus arrived, she was writhing in her seat, but still managed to hold on. They transferred safely over on to the new bus, and were almost at school when Avery slumped over in defeat, and froze for a minute, clearly soaking her pull-up. Grace watched as her crotch started to bulge, the excess of jelly material evident under her leggings. She went to pull them down right as the bus came to a halt, and briefly panicked, realizing she didn’t have time to change before heading to second period. The bus driver hurried them along, and after observing the increasingly obvious diaper line from behind as they exited the bus, Grace quickly suggested tieing her sweatshirt around her waist to hide her diaper. “It should work. We have to go to class now, but we’ll get you out of it by lunch.”

Avery nodded, seeing no reasonably alternative, and headed off to class wearing a wet pull-up. She sat through English with it on, realizing that it wasn’t as terribly uncomfortably as she expected, but still rendezvoused quickly with Grace at lunch. The two girls ducked into a stall quickly, and got Avery safely de-diapered, nothing the worse to show for her experience.

Unfortunately for Grace, this meant she was without a spare pull-up. Her current one had reached the quota of two settings, so after loosing Avery, she changed out of it. For the rest of the day, she was somewhat paranoid, worried that every urge could signal disaster, but made it safely home. Her control hadn’t been affected by her time in pull-ups, but after Avery’s morning experience, she couldn’t believe that people risked going around without one on. When she got in the door, she breathed a sigh of relief, and explained to her Mother that she had ran out of pull-ups before getting on the bus, but had made it home safely before going up to put protection back on.

That evening, they sat down to watch another movie, and Grace planned her third attempt at exposing Ally. Her interest had been peaked by the discussion of real diapers, even just as a scare tactic, and she wanted to see what her mother would do. She made sure she had on a dry pull-up, and let Ally lie on top of her, making sure to be in contact with her pull-up. As expected, shortly after they had finished their burgers, Grace felt Ally begin to squirm slightly. Inwardly smiling, she asked out loud “Do you need to go to the bathroom, Ally?” Ally quietly shook her head, saying “No, I was just a bit uncomfortable.” Her mom verified that Ally was sure, but didn’t press it-eight year olds were known to be squirmy, and Ally hadn’t been very obvious.

A few minutes later, however, Grace felt the telltale flood of warmth turn Ally’s GoodNite from a dry and crinkly texture into a gooey one. She remarked aloud: “I thought you said you didn’t need to go to the bathroom!”

”I didn’t!”

”I just felt you pee, Alls. Your pull-up is wet now.”

Her mom paused the movie and asked Ally whether that was true. Ally shrugged, not wanting to answer one way or the other, and was summoned by her mother for a pull-up check. Unsurprisingly, it was discovered to be soaked.

”Ally, what have we talked about?”

”That my big-girl pants are only for accidents. This was an accident mom, I didn’t decide to go, I just couldn’t hold it any more.”

”Ally, you could have gone to the bathroom whenever you wanted. That’s what big girls do. Only babies just use their diapers, so if you keep using your big-girl pants on purpose, you’re going to have to use diapers. You can use big-girl pants again once you can show us that you only use your diapers for accidents.”

Ally, face downcast, responded “But mom, I am a big girl! I’m already wearing them, why shouldn’t I use them?”

”Alls,I know you’re a big girl, but you’re not acting like one. Once you start acting like one, you can wear big-girl pants again. They aren’t designed to hold enough pee that you can just use them whenever you want, that’s what diapers are for. The reason these pull up and down is so you can use the toilet while you have them on. You clearly aren’t behaving like you’re ready for that, so once you are, you can have your big-girl pants back. For right now, you’ll use diapers, and your sister can keep wearing your big-girl panties. Now go get changed, and we can finish the movie.

Ally nodded, and agreed. Once the movie started again, Ally safely isolated from her lap with a a pillow, Grace leaned back and wet herself, soaking her big-girl pants. 

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I noticed that this story didn't have many comments, and that's too bad because I'm really enjoying it. I like these DL stories that don't involve AB elements, and people using diapers for the convenience.

Grace was definitely mean about sabotaging those pull-ups (even if she threw away the other one) but I can definitely see how this is going to lead to full-on diapers, likely for both of them.

Minor editing correction: You seem to swap between calling the pull ups "big-girl pants" and "big-girl panties" at random. I would guess the latter is the correct one, but it should at the very least be consistent.

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The next day, it was finally time for Grace to take advantage of her pull-ups in the context that she originally intended. Before bed, she had made sure to change into a clean pull-up, and now, as she woke up to a cold and silent house, she relished the thought of not having to get out of bed. Instead, bladder yearning for release, she grabbed the book from her side table and started reading. After a few minutes, the tug of her bladder grew to a point where it was distracting, and she relaxed, immediately dampening her padding with the contents of her morning bladder. She snuggled further under the covers, and continued reading.

After a bit more time, her sister woke up, and reached down for the tablet on which she listened to audio book. She put her noise-cancelling headphones on, which were one of her most prized birthday presents, and relaxed back into her bed, enjoying the leisurely morning. Grace, in the bunk below, could just hear the faintest trace of her sister’s book’s narration, but it wasn’t too bothersome. Another chapter into her book, Grace heard the anticipated faint hiss from above, and shook her head, laughing internally. She decided not to tell on her sister this time, as if she did, it would beg the question of why she hadn’t heard in past weeks.

Grace’s own bladder had started to make its need known again, and with Ally safely wrapped in the cocoon of her headphones, she didn’t hesitate to re-flood her pull-up, soaking the padding again.

Meanwhile, Avery was having a somewhat less carefree morning. She had an early lacrosse practice every Saturday morning, which she was currently at, bemoaning the lack of bathroom facilities at the field at which she practiced. She had relieved herself after groggily rolling out of bed, but it didn’t seem to help that much: less than 2 hours later, she was already desperate to pee. Thankfully, her lacrosse practice was coming to a close: just one more brief drill left. As she was running down the field, trying to hide her desperation, maintain a hold on her bladder, and get in position for the ball, she felt someone else slam into her, the two girls getting tangled in a mess of stick and body. After getting untangled and straightening up, she apologized to the other girl for not looking where she was going, and realized that her shorts, while not soaked, weren’t entirely dry any more. Thankfully, the loose white fabric held leaks well, and she walked off towards the car after a few minutes of debriefing, desperate but not obviously wet.

Her mom began to drive home, and Avery mentioned her desperation to her.

”I badly need to go pee, mom”

”We’ll be home soon”

Avery, knowledgeable after the experience of the past week, suspected she wouldn’t be able to make it that far.

”I really need to go.”

”Ok, I’ll try to hurry home, but you should have used the bathroom before you left.”

”I did!”

Avery knew, at this point, that further protestation was useless. Hands pressed against her crotch, she desperately tried to hold on for the fifteen minute drive home. When they were about 5 minutes away, she felt another spurt of pee cause a large bloom of wetness on her underwear, and spoke up again:

”I’m about to wet myself, I don’t think I can make it.”

Unfortunately, they were now in a residential area, and the closest bathroom was home. Avery’s mother said as much to her, and reassured her desperate daughter that they’d be home shortly.

Avery turned out to be correct: as they turned on to their street, she felt another spurt of pee into her underwear. Briefly elated at the sight of home, she quickly realized that this time, she was unable to regain control of her bladder, and froze as her pee soaked her underwear, shorts, and the seat.

Her mom looked over at the noise. “Avery, we were almost there! Never mind, we’re here now. You should go get cleaned up. You wouldn’t have this problem if you just went pee before going places and drank less water, you know.”

Once Avery got in the shower, wet clothes stripped, she broke down into tears. She tried going to the bathroom before she went out, but it just didn’t seem to be enough. She wished she could get a doctor to tell her mother that there was something abnormal about her bladder, because she was sure there was, but her annual checkup wasn’t for another 8 months, and her mother wasn’t likely to take her to the doctor over what she thought of as her daughter being lazy. Avery was miserable, and would be until she found a solution, but she could only think of two, both of which were risky.

Back at Grace’s house, her parents finally woke up and got out of bed. Unfortunately for Ally, she hadn’t considered the time, and  forgot to change out of her pull-up before her parents woke up. When her mom came in to say good morning, she saw that Ally’s GoodNite was still sticking out of her pajamas, and knowing her daughters’ habits of early rising, zeroed in on what happened.

“Good morning girls! Ally, when did you wake up?”

”6:47, mom. I slept well.”

”And you haven’t needed to go pee since?”

”uh-uh, mom.”

”Alls, don’t lie to me, I know you always need to go in the mornings.”

“Mom, I knew it wouldn’t leak at night, because it was the morning! I’d already used it at night, it would be a waste if I didn’t use it all the way.”

”Alls, we’ve talked about this before. You’ve shown us that you can’t act like a big girl, so you’re going to wear diapers until you can show us you’re ready again.”

Ally looked downcast. “But I am a big girl, mommy!”

”No arguments, Ally. We’ve talked about this too many times, and you still aren’t acting like one.”

Ally went to go change out of her sodden protection, which, contrary to what she had said, had leaked mildly, wetting the thigh of her pajamas.

Saturdays were mostly restful for all three girls, and with easy bathroom access, they passed without mishap.

That evening, however, when it came time for Ally to get ready for bed, her mom went with her to the bathroom to get into her nighttime protection.

”Go pee, Ally, and then we’ll get your diaper on.”

Ally sat on the toilet for a few minutes, but didn’t pee. “I don’t need to go, mommy”

”Are you sure?”

”Yes, mom.”

Her mom shook her head, and opened the cabinet, reaching into the second corner that she’d stocked with the small package of absurdly thick diapers she’d ordered after their conversation on Wednesday. She knew that they were overkill for Ally’s wetting, but she wanted to make the alternative seem as babyish as possible, to dissuade Ally, so she’d found the most absorbent diaper that came in an extra-small she could.

Ally, seeing her new protection for the first time, scowled at her mom. “Why do I have to wear that big thing, mom? I want my princesses.”

”I’m sorry, Ally-bear, but your princesses are only for big girls like your sister. If you act like a big girl, you’ll get them back.”

Ally reluctantly nodded, and lay down when prompted. The diaper, labeled a MegaMax, was cartoonishly thick compared to the GoodNites, but fit her surprisingly well in the extra-small size. She had been on the smaller end of the waist measurement, but it had worked out.

She hopped back up, and pulled her pajama shorts back over her diaper. They didn’t do much to hide the bulk of the diaper she was wearing.

“This diaper is too big, mom.”

”No, honey, it isn’t. You’re too big for baby diapers now, but they make bigger ones for bigger people who use their diapers like babies. If you use your diaper like a baby at night, that’s what you have to wear. It fits you well.”

Ally reluctantly nodded, and went down to say goodnight before going off to bed. Grace almost laughed at the sight of her sister waddling up the stairs in a very bulky diaper, but managed to contain her laughter. After putting Ally to bed, her mom came down.

”I hope that puts a stop to that.”

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33 minutes ago, WriterForce6XV said:

Welp, guess I'm following this now. There are technical issues here and there, but overall, nice job so far. xD

My primary gripe is how long it took to get to the tape on diapers, but that's just personal preference talking, nothing objectively wrong with the way you did it. Nice start, and I hope to see some more from you in the future.

Thanks! The missing chapter actually addresses this, I really hope I can get that published soon-when I started, I was below seven posts, and one seems to have gotten caught. 

 

Edited by Fjjfjfnnskkbfn (see edit history)
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4 hours ago, Fjjfjfnnskkbfn said:

Thanks! The missing chapter actually addresses this, I really hope I can get that published soon-when I started, I was below seven posts, and one seems to have gotten caught. 

 

Ah, I see. Best solution I can think of for the missing chapter to avoid reading out of order is to ask a mod to edit its content into the post with the chapter chronologically right before it. Hope that missing chapter issue works itself out, however you manage to post it.

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2 hours ago, WriterForce6XV said:

Ah, I see. Best solution I can think of for the missing chapter to avoid reading out of order is to ask a mod to edit its content into the post with the chapter chronologically right before it. Hope that missing chapter issue works itself out, however you manage to post it.

That’s not a bad idea-I can edit my most recent posts, so I could edit it in to one of those, but it would be out of order then. I’m trying to get in touch with a mod. 

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