An unfamiliar blond-haired man opened the door for Paula as she carried her suitcases inside. "Oh, thank you!" she said to him.
As she saw the familiar lobby of her dorm, she set her suitcases and backpack down to rest for a moment. The man who had opened the door said, "You're welcome."
Deciding to be friendly, she introduced herself. "Thanks! My name's Paula Selmer," she said, extending a hand.
Paula thought he seemed a little hesitant, but it might just have been her imagination. Quickly enough, he shook her hand and said, "Hello, Paula; I'm Colin Allen. I recognize your name; it's on the door next to mine."
"Oh, so we're neighbors!" The dorm had been co-ed as long as Paula had lived there. "I've never met you before - did you move here from another dorm, or did you transfer from another school?"
"Another dorm. A single room opened up, and I jumped at the chance."
"Hey, good deal," said Paula. "Tell you what - I'll go put my stuff in my room, and I'll be right back."
"No, that's OK" said Colin; "I'll go with you. I need to start unpacking anyway." Colin held a door open for her, and the two of them went down the hall to her room.
Paula had been wondering how she was going to get her keys out while carrying her backpack and suitcases, but the door to her room was already open. Cheryl, her roommate from last semester, was already back. Cheryl had been sitting on her bed and watching TV, but she jumped up and hugged Paula before Paula had had a chance to put down her suitcases. "Paula! How was your break?"
"It was fine," said Paula, putting things down once she had a chance.
"Who's this?" asked Cheryl, looking at Colin.
"Our new neighbor," Paula answered. "His name's Colin. Umm, Colin, don't tell me, Allen. He's living next door, now that Sarah graduated."
"Oh," said Cheryl. She leaned over to one side of Paula, waved with her fingers, and said, "Hi, Colin."
"This is Cheryl, Colin," said Paula.
Colin grinned and waved similarly. "Hi, Cheryl," he said.
"Show us your room," said Paula to Colin. "We saw it last semester, but you've redecorated, I'm sure."
Colin went out into the halls and got his keys out. "Not yet," he said. "Most of my stuff's still in boxes." When he opened the door, Paula and Cheryl could see that he wasn't kidding. The room was bare, except that the bed was made and his towels hung on the towel racks. One or two boxes were open, probably the ones that had contained the sheets and towels, but most of the boxes were still neatly stacked and shut. They were all brown and identical, but each box had a number written on it in blue marker.
"Hey," Cheryl asked, "how do you know what's in which box?"
"I have a code numbering system," Colin said, then paused. Paula thought he wanted to continue, but didn't for some reason. Maybe he didn't want to bore Cheryl and her with the details. After the pause he said, "Well, I'll deal with this stuff later. Want to go out to the lobby and meet people?"
"That sounds better than watching TV," said Cheryl. "There's nothing on."
The first person they met in the lobby was a short, red- haired woman who had been watching two men play ping-pong. Paula and Cheryl knew her. They introduced her to Colin as Fiona Bradley, and they introduced him to her as the man who lived next door to them now. Fiona shook Colin's hand and said, "It's good to meet you; I'll probably see you a lot; I'm taking a lot of the same classes as Paula, and I live down the hall from you."
Then, one of the two men lost the ping-pong game, looked at his watch, got wide-eyed, and said, "Jeez! I have to meet my girlfriend."
The winner, a tall dark-haired man, said, "Whoa! You'd better run. I'll put the ping-pong stuff away."
The one who didn't have to go was new to all of them except Fiona. "This is Dylan," she said; "he lives upstairs; he's a psychology major."
"Pleased to meet you," said Paula as Dylan smiled at her. They met other friends, new and old, as the day went on.
Paula spent the late afternoon unpacking her clothes and other things she'd brought from home. Cheryl helped some, but Paula managed to convince her to relax. At dinner, Cheryl told Paula about a party that she was going to and asked her if she'd like to go. "I don't think so," said Paula. "I'm not done packing, and I don't want to get into a stay-up-late, get-up-tired routine like I did last semester."
"Okay," Cheryl said. "I'll be in late, then." When they had finished their meal, the two went their separate ways. Cheryl went to her party, and Paula returned to the dorm.
When she arrived, Dylan was playing ping-pong again, and Paula stopped to watch him. He won this time, and the man who lost said, "Good game," and went off to finish unpacking and give his ego time to recover.
"How 'bout a game, Paula?" asked Dylan.
Thinking it could be fun both to play and to get to know Dylan, Paula said, "Sure!" She picked up the paddle on her side of the table.
As they played, Paula asked, "You must like ping-pong. Both times I've seen you you've been playing."
"Yeah," Dylan said, as they volleyed back and forth. "At home my neighbors have a ping-pong table, and I always used to play on Sunday afternoons."
"One of my friends had a table," said Paula, "and I'd sometimes play." They continued to talk and continued to play.
Paula finished unpacking her things and rearranging her part of the room, then she got ready for bed. She lay in bed awake for a while, still excited after having returned to school and having met and remet all these people ... especially Dylan. Lying there, trying to go to sleep, she could faintly hear music from all over the dorm, played by all the students' stereos. One tune, though, had a soft and soothing melody, the right kind to listen to if you wanted to go to sleep, and Paula did, so she focused on that one. It sounded like it came from a nearby room. It must be Colin's, she thought. She remembered no more.
Cheryl must have come in later that night, because Paula saw her sleeping in her bed when Paula woke up at three to use the bathroom. In the morning they both decided to go buy their textbooks together, and they met Fiona on the way. Since Fiona and Paula were both English majors, they compared their class schedules and found them almost entirely the same. They wound up buying almost the same books.
There was a party in their dorm that evening, and Paula went to it, but she didn't stay very late, because classes started the next day. Again, she heard the music from next door as she lay in bed. Again, it was so soothing that it put her to sleep right away.
The first day of classes was not a particularly great day for Paula. She got up and had breakfast, making it to her first class just in time, but when she got there a sign on the door told her that the class had been moved to another room, so she was just a few minutes late. As she walked in, the professor stopped talking and looked at her, making Paula feel uncomfortable as she found a seat. Other students came in later and got the same treatment, though, which made Paula feel less bad. After class she and Fiona complained to each other. "God! What a grouch! Can you believe it?"
Paula's other classes followed this same basic pattern. In one class, she discovered that the bookstore had run out of the course's most important textbook. In another, she learned that they'd be having their first test at the end of the week already. When she finally went to bed, she was so glad to get to sleep she didn't even listen to all the music that made its way through the thin walls.
She woke up. It was the middle of the night. All was quiet. She felt like she had to use the bathroom; in fact, she had a distinct feeling that she had been about to start urinating right there in bed, but had stopped herself. This was strange, but she was too sleepy to think much of it. It could have been a dream. She got up and went to the bathroom. When she went back to sleep she heard the music from next door. Colin must somehow leave it running all night, she thought. Oh well, at least it's not annoying.
Thursday night, the night before her first test of the semester, she studied fairly late, but she did get to bed at a reasonable hour. She was worried; she wasn't sure what the professor would ask after only one week of class, but they hadn't covered much material yet, so it hadn't been difficult to go over everything. Still, it was her first test.
That night she again awoke with the feeling that she'd been about to wet the bed. I haven't wet the bed for a long time, she thought, as she sleepily got up and went to the bathroom.
The test, luckily, was nothing difficult. Friday night she gave Dylan a call and the two of them went to a movie together. Afterward, since she was starting to feel very tired, they just talked for a while in the lobby of their dorm, then she went back to her room.
She was glad that she'd taken the opportunity to have some fun, and now she just wanted to relax. She listened to Colin's music through the wall and went into a deep sleep.
In the middle of the night she woke up and felt a wet spot under her. Oh, no, she thought, wasn't I just thinking the other night how long it's been since I last wet the bed? She took a washcloth with her to the bathroom, ran some hot water on it in the sink, and scrubbed the wet spot on her sheet and mattress pad. She went back and rinsed the washcloth out, then went back to sleep, with a dry towel on top of the wet spot.
The next morning she embarrassedly told her roommate. "Cheryl, did I wake you up last night?" she asked.
"No," Cheryl answered. "Why do you ask? What were you doing?"
"I, well, I, wet my bed a little. I can't believe it! The last time I wet my bed, I was 14."
"Whoa. I hope you're not getting sick."
"Sick? Yeah, maybe that's it."
"Maybe you should go to the student health center and have a doctor look at you."
"Good idea." Paula picked up the phone to make an appointment.
It was Saturday, and there were many students in the waiting room at the health center. Some of them were probably there to get their required vaccinations. After a longish wait, Paula's name was called, and she went in to see the doctor.
"Hello, Ms. Selmer," said the doctor, motioning Paula into an examination room. "I'm Dr. Michaels."
"Hello," said Paula, as the doctor closed the door.
"Have a seat on the table. Now, you said over the phone that you thought you might be getting sick?"
"Er, yes. I, uh, wet the bed a little last night, for the first time in years. My roommate said that I might be getting sick."
"How many years?"
"Um, seven."
"Seven years; so this probably isn't a continuation of the same problem. Well, enuresis can be caused by stress, infection, or some sort of physiological problem. Have you suffered any recent injuries, especially to the lower abdomen?"
"No," answered Paula, "none at all."
"All right, then the physiological explanation is probably out. A few tests will tell us whether it's an infection. I'm going to do some routine ones, like taking your temperature and examining your throat, but I'm going to need a urine sample too, and probably a throat culture."
Paula cooperated, and the doctor told her that she'd have to wait until Monday for all the test results to come in. He said he'd have a nurse call her.
Paula slept through the night that night and Sunday night without any wetting, although she did hear the soothing music. Monday morning the nurse did call. "The tests didn't show anything," said the nurse. "So far we can rule out just about any infection, so our best guess is that stress is causing your problem. Is there anything in particular that could be causing you stress?"
Paula thought about the textbook and the test. "Yes, there are some things," she said. The nurse told her to come in again "if her problems continued," and perhaps they could teach her some stress management techniques.
Dylan took her out for dinner Sunday night, but over the next few days, classes continued to be as stressful as they had always been. During the night she always heard the music, and it seemed to take the day's stress away. Fortunately she had no more nighttime accidents.
One day she and Fiona were studying in the lobby when Colin walked by. "Hey, Colin!" called Paula. "How are you?"
"Oh, pretty good," he answered, stopping. "Studying?"
"Yeah. British literature. Oh, yeah, I was going to ask you. I hear music coming from your room all night. It's pretty; what is it?"
Colin looked nervous for a moment, but he said, "Well, I have trouble sleeping sometimes, and it helps me sleep. It's special music, designed for it."
"Well, it works on me, even through the walls! No matter how stressful the day's been, it puts me right to sleep."
"That's good," Colin answered briefly.
"Well, I have to get moving here," Paula said, "because I have an assignment due at five."
"Uh-oh; it's almost two now. How close are you to finished?"
"Not close enough! Bye!"
Colin waved as Paula hurried toward her room. She worked and worked, and the clock seemed to rush toward zero hour. Finally she got it finished, ten minutes before five. She didn't know how good it was, but she ran to get it turned in. Her professor gave her the usual comment about getting started earlier, but he accepted the assignment. As she was leaving, Fiona rushed in, also just in time.
After that day's stress, Colin's music was very welcome indeed. Paula went right away into a deep sleep.
Paula awoke. The sky was dark. The clock said 5:16 a.m. She felt cold. Actually only part of her body felt cold ... the part that was touching her mattress. She sat up. Her pajamas were soaked. So was her bed. It was hard to find a dry spot anywhere on her sheet. Her pillow was partly wet, and she knew she'd have to wash her blankets.
There was no point trying to sleep now; she had nothing to sleep in. Her pajamas clung coldly to her as she got out of bed and took them off. She dried herself off with a towel and put on some old clothes, then she started stripping the sheets, blankets and mattress pad off the bed. She put more dry towels on the mattress; hopefully they'd soak up the wetness there.
"Wha ..." said Cheryl, waking up.
"Oh, I was hoping you'd stay asleep," Paula said.
"Huh ... uh-oh; did it happen again?" Cheryl said sleepily.
Paula sighed. "Yeah. Only worse this time. I soaked everything."
"Want some help?" Cheryl asked. "I'm awake now."
"Thank you," Paula said. "What can I do? It got into the mattress."
"You're off to a good start with those towels. Let's get some wet washcloths and scrub it with soapy water."
They got to work cleaning up Paula's mattress. After the soapy water they scrubbed with plain warm water until the soap was gone, then they threw everything into Paula's laundry bag, and Paula took everything downstairs to the laundry room. Because of their quick attention, after the mattress had air-dried there wasn't even any urine smell to it.
"Well," said Paula, "what do we do now? It's not even 6:30 in the morning, and my bed is still wet."
"We could study," Cheryl suggested.
"Yeah, right," Paula answered sarcastically, "and then I'd fall asleep and wet my chair or something."
"You need one of those plastic mattress covers," said Cheryl. "Then if you wet again you wouldn't have to worry about the mattress, just the sheets."
"That's a good idea," Paula said. "I'll go buy one before class. I've got plenty of time." She got on the bus, went to a department store across town and bought one.
Paula tried everything she could think of to keep herself from wetting the bed. Some things she remembered from when she had wet the bed when she was younger. She made sure she didn't drink very much water in the evening, and before bed she always went to the bathroom to make sure her bladder was completely empty. She thought of other measures that she had wished her parents had taken, but they hadn't. She'd never mentioned them to her parents, and she didn't mention them to Cynthia.
As a result of her preventive regimen, Paula didn't wet the bed for an entire week. She decided not to call the doctor and tell him about her accident.
The next weekend Paula spent almost entirely with Dylan. They went to another restaurant and another movie. He liked picnics, he said, so they packed a lunch and went to a city park.
At the park, at a picnic table on a hilltop, he confessed, "Paula, I want to sleep with you."
"Don't you think it's too soon?" Paula asked. It was too soon; Paula was usually fairly cautious about whom she slept with. Also, though she wasn't wetting her bed anymore, in the back of her mind she was worried about what might happen if she spent the night in a bed other than her own protected one. "I mean, we've only known each other for a couple weeks."
"That's true," he said, "but I have to tell you that I want to."
"I'm glad you're sharing your feelings, but I think it's too soon."
"How long will it be before you're ready?"
"I don't know, but you're making me sound like a cake in the oven."
"I'm sorry. I also have to admit that I feel impatient."
"Well, don't push me."
"I won't." He was quiet for a few minutes. Finally, he said, "Want to play Frisbee?" Paula was glad that conversation was over, but she knew others like it would come later if she stayed with him, and she knew she'd have to avoid telling the truth about her bedwetting if she did.
That night, Paula woke up in a wet bed again. She didn't feel as panicked as she had the time before, probably because of the mattress protector and because the bed wasn't as wet this time. Not drinking so much water hadn't kept her bed dry, but it had kept it less wet. As before, she put on some old clothes and threw all her bedclothes into the washing machine. Cynthia woke up, but Paula assured her she could handle everything herself. It's not such a big deal anymore, she thought.
The next two nights the same thing happened, and she dealt with it in the same way. In fact, Cynthia didn't even wake up the third time. But, Paula thought, I should probably call the doctor and let him know that it's happening again.
She called the doctor and made an appointment. It was a Thursday afternoon. After lunch, Paula had done some studying, then gone to the student health center in plenty of time for the appointment. As she waited, she read some more of her assignment.
She suddenly felt as if she had to go to the bathroom very badly. She shoved her book aside, stood up and somehow got to the receptionist's desk. "Excuse me; where's the bathroom?!" she half shouted.
"It's down that hall and to the right," said the receptionist, pointing. "But are you sure you can't wait? The doctor may need a sample."
Paula was no longer listening. She was already walking down the hallway, trying to look as dignified as someone who was about to explode could look.
Then she did explode. Unable to hold on any longer, she let loose. She ran for the bathroom and got inside, but she was too late. She had already wet her pants and gotten a good amount of urine on the floor of the hallway and the bathroom. The rest made it into the toilet, but it wasn't much of a victory.
As this happened, Paula heard the receptionist say, "Oh, no. I'm gonna need some help out here!" Footsteps came running, then she heard the receptionist say, "No, don't worry; a young lady's just had an accident all over the floor. I'll get a mop."
A female nurse knocked on the bathroom door and asked Paula, "Ms. Selmer, I have a gown for you, if you'd like to change."
Paula was embarrassed and upset. "I don't understand! I'm so sorry."
"Ms. Selmer, it was an accident; that's all. Many people have these problems. It's happened before."
"It has?"
"Yes, many times. May I hand you in the gown? We can rinse and dry your clothes."
"OK." Paula opened the door a little, and the nurse handed the gown in. Paula changed out of her clothes and put the gown on. Then she opened the door the rest of the way.
The nurse said, "Good, now let me show you to an examination room, where you can wait until the doctor can get to you." She and Paula went further down the hallway to an empty examination room, as the receptionist quickly finished mopping up the floor.
"Just sit down on the table, and the doctor will be here within five minutes," said the nurse, motioning to the table. She closed the door and went back to her patient. Paula sat and tried to calm herself down.
Cripes that was embarrassing, Paula thought. They must think I'm some kind of baby or something. No, they said lots of people have problems like this. Still, I hope nobody in the lobby saw what happened.
The doctor knocked on the door, then opened it. It was Dr. Michaels again. He said, "Hello, Ms. Selmer. I hear your problem has gotten worse."
"Yeah," said Paula. "I mean, not just this today. I've wet the bed the past three nights. But it wasn't so bad as the other time."
"Other time?"
"The night after I was here before. I really soaked it. But then my roommate said I should get a mattress cover."
"Good idea," said the doctor.
"And I've been trying not to drink too much before I go to bed. For a while it worked. But now I'm wetting again, and now this!"
"Ms. Selmer, it is perfectly all right. I must admit I'm puzzled, because this isn't like any stress incontinence I've ever seen before. But then, people are all different, and new things are always happening that doctors have no explanations for."
"First of all, assuming that it is stress, here is a pamphlet about some simple stress reduction techniques you might want to try. Meditation, time management, those sorts of things."
Paula took the pamphlet. "OK."
Dr. Michaels took a breath. "Now, Ms. Selmer," he continued, "it would be good for your bedclothes and save you time if we got you some protection against your enuresis."
"Protection?" Inwardly Paula liked this sudden turn of the conversation, but she didn't dare let him know how she felt.
"Yes. I can prescribe you some absorbent undergarments, and there are a variety, for you to wear to bed, and during the day if it becomes necessary."
He was going to put her in diapers! It was a sexual fantasy of hers, and it had been for a long time - but how strange that it would happen this way! She said, "Er, yes, I understand. It sounds like a sensible thing to do."
"I have a list here of what our affiliated pharmacy can supply you." The doctor produced a list of what amounted to cloth and disposable diapers for adults. Paula tried not to stare. She had had only some idea that such things existed.
"There's quite a variety," said Paula. "Do they actually stock all these?"
"Adult enuresis isn't much talked about, but it's a far more common problem than most people think."
"Oh."
The doctor went on, "First of all, you should choose between washable and disposable undergarments."
Paula swallowed. "Well - washable ones are better for the environment, aren't they?"
"There's a lot of debate going on about that. I think you should choose which would fit your lifestyle most closely. Do you live in a dormitory?"
"Yes."
"Then probably washable ones are best for you. It would be difficult to discreetly dispose of the disposable ones. What do you think?"
"Yeah, I think you're right."
"Fine, washable ones it is. Now you must select a style. This is pretty much up to you. As you see, there are folded and fitted ones, some that need pins and some that have Velcro, and so on."
Paula chose some fitted diapers that fastened with Velcro. The doctor said, "Those should be very easy to put on and take off. However, like almost all of these, they have no waterproof outer shell, so you'll need some waterproof pants too."
He indicated a list of these. Some were plain, some came in colors, and some were ... "What does this mean, 'nursery prints?'"
Clearing his throat, the doctor said, "They're juvenile print designs. Ducks, teddy bears, toys, and such. Some people prefer the whimsical."
"Oh, how adorable! How about 'fancy pants'? What are those?"
"They're just regular waterproof pants, but they have a decorative outer layer attached. The women's style is somewhat lacy, I believe."
"That sounds pretty," Paula said, trying not to sound too eager. "Can I have all nursery prints, with one or two 'fancy pants'?"
"As I said, it's your choice," said the doctor. He began filling out a form, labeled "Pharmacy Clothing Requisition." He then gave it to Paula. "They'll want you to fill in your sizes, I believe. Just take this to our affiliated pharmacy, and they'll take care of it. Your student health insurance plan will pay for everything."
"Thank you very much, Dr. Michaels."
"You're certainly welcome, Ms. Selmer, and I hope you won't need these for long." The doctor left, and minutes later the nurse came by with Paula's clothes and books.
Paula walked down the street toward the nearby pharmacy. Oh, great, Paula suddenly thought. They're gonna take one look at my prescription and laugh their heads off. But she walked on anyway. There was nothing else to do. On one hand, there was no other way to protect her bed from her wetting, and on the other hand, this was like the fulfillment of a daydream.
When she handed the prescription across the counter, there was no laughter at all. It was as if she had brought in a prescription for cough syrup. The pharmacist took the piece of paper, looked at it, and went through a door to the back of the store. He's probably going back there so he can laugh, said the paranoid part of Paula's mind, but he came back very quickly.
"This prescription is going to be big," said the pharmacist. "We can deliver, so why don't we just do that? Your address is on the form."
Paula nodded. "All right."
"Good; when would be a good time?"
"I'm going home right now."
"All right; our delivery person should be there in about half an hour."
Paula walked back to her dorm room. No sooner did she walk in the door than Cheryl asked her, "How did the doctor's appointment go?"
"Jeez, Cheryl, I wet my pants in the waiting room!"
"Oh no! Do they know what's wrong with you?"
"I haven't had any injuries, and they can't find any infections with their tests, so all they can think of is stress. They gave me a booklet about stress reduction."
"Oh. Did you read it yet?"
"No." She took it out and read a little. "Could be useful."
"Did they say -" The phone rang. Cheryl answered it. "Hello? Yes, she's here. Yes, I'll tell her." She hung up. "The front desk says there's a delivery for you."
"That's my prescription!" Paula said.
"Prescription? Delivered?"
"Yeah. I'll be right back." She left the room and went to the front desk. A woman in work clothes was there, holding a clipboard, standing next to three brown unmarked boxes of different sizes.
"Hi!" said the delivery woman. "Paula Selmer?"
"That's me."
"Sign here," said the woman, holding out the clipboard.
Paula signed, and she and the woman carried the boxes to Paula's room.
After the delivery woman left, Paula said to Cheryl, "I was just about to tell you. The doctor said I should wear ... some absorbent undergarments at night. These came from the pharmacy.
"So ... like diapers? Unless you don't want to call them that."
"Yeah, diapers. I guess they'll protect the sheets."
"I suppose," Cheryl said. "Well, let's see 'em."
"OK," said Paula, opening the largest box. It contained what was clearly a diaper pail. Made of pink plastic, it had a lid that opened when a pedal was depressed, and inside the lid was a compartment for a deodorant disc, two of which were included. Included also was a package of liners.
"Hmm," said Paula, and opened the medium-sized box. Inside were three smaller boxes, each labeled "Washable incontinent briefs, Velcro closures. Contents: 1 dozen".
"Three dozen?" asked Cheryl. "Isn't that kind of a lot?"
"I don't know," Paula said. "Well, better to have too many than not enough."
"True." Cheryl opened the smallest box and found five small boxes inside. Four of them said, "Waterproof pants, nursery print, female. Contents: 3". The other said, "Waterproof fancy pants, female. Contents: 3". Cheryl said, "Hey, what are nursery prints?"
Paula blushed. "Let's find out. Open some."
Cheryl opened one of the boxes. The nursery print pants were cuter than Paula had thought they'd be. They were white with pink elastic bands at the waist and legs, and the patterns were of diapered teddy bears, rocking horses, and alphabet blocks. "These look like they're for babies," said Cheryl.
Paula said, "I picked them because I thought they'd be cute. Anyway, no one's going to see them but me and you."
"They are cute," said Cheryl, "but cute like for kids, not cute like for grown-ups."
"I just like them," said Paula. "I don't know why."
"How about the fancy pants?" Cheryl asked, opening that box. They were just as the doctor said. Outwardly they were pretty panties with pink lace either across the seat or around the waist and leg elastic. Inside they were securely waterproof.
"These are cute too," said Cheryl. "What are they for?"
Paula said, "Special occasions, I guess."
"I guess. Shouldn't you try some on," asked Cheryl, "to see if they fit?"
"Nah," said Paula. "If they don't, the pharmacy's closed by now. There's nothing they can do 'til tomorrow." They took all the diapers and plastic pants out of the boxes, got rid of the boxes, and found space in Paula's bureau to put everything.
As usual, Paula tried not to drink anything after dinner. When bedtime came, she went to the bathroom last of all to make sure everything was out that could be out.
Then she got into bed and put a diaper on herself. I've babysat enough times that I should be able to do this, she thought. She opened her drawer and took one out, along with a pair of plastic pants. She laid the diaper out on her bed, then lay on top of it, folded the two back sides forward, and fastened the Velcro. She adjusted it until it was tight, then she slid the plastic pants up over her diaper. Finally, she ran her fingers under the elastic to make sure the diaper wasn't sticking out.
Cheryl returned from the bathroom as Paula was getting under the covers. "Do you, uh, have one on?" she asked.
"Yup," answered Paula. "G'night."
"Night."
She went to sleep amid Colin's relaxing music. This morning, though, she actually awoke when her alarm clock went off. It seemed almost strange not to wake up to a wet bed. She got up and turned the alarm off, feeling the heaviness of her diaper. Sure enough, I'm wet, she thought. She checked the bed, and found only a few tiny wet spots, where she'd leaked.
Cheryl woke up and said, "Morning," groggily. "Dry bed?"
"Yeah!" Paula said. "Mostly. There are a couple little spots, but that's all."
"Cool. You could wear two diapers tonight, and that'd probably fix that."
"Hey, good idea!"
"Thanks. Say, Paula ..."
"Yeah?"
"Do you think I could put your diapers on you tonight?"
"Um, sure; why?"
"I don't know," Cheryl said. "I just want to try it."
In class that day Paula fell asleep. It was as if, now that it had the chance, her body were catching up on the sleep she'd missed when she'd been wetting the bed. But she awakened with a jump. As had happened right before she'd started wetting the bed, she had awakened with the feeling that she'd been about to wet her pants, but had awakened just in time.
Sitting next to her, Fiona noticed Paula's jump, rapid breathing and startled look. "What's wrong?" she whispered.
"I almost fell asleep!" Paula whispered back.
"Oh. But why are you so upset about it? You're not the only one who's falling asleep; this is biology with Sivers."
"Well -" Paula wondered whether to tell Fiona. "I'll tell you later."
The next night Cheryl diapered Paula at bedtime, using two diapers. It was so much easier for Paula that when Cheryl asked if she could do it every night, Paula was glad to say yes. Colin's music and the thought of having Cheryl to diaper her put her peacefully to sleep. The next morning Paula's bed and pajamas were completely dry, though her diapers sagged heavily.
That day in class, Paula brought a can of soda with her. Hopefully the caffeine in this will keep me awake, Paula thought. Throughout the class she sipped the soda, and she didn't fall asleep.
However, by the time the class was nearly over, she had to go to the bathroom pretty badly. Fiona noticed her crossing her legs and the anguished expression on her face. "You OK?" she asked in a whisper.
"Yeah - I just have to go real bad!" She didn't want a repeat of what had happened in the health center waiting room!
"Oh! Go! Go! I'll show you my notes if you miss anything, but you won't." Paula quietly left and hurried toward the bathroom. She made it, but she'd left a wet spot in her panties.
When she returned, Fiona said, "I was right; you didn't miss anything, but you have to tell me what's going on."
"I will," Paula promised. "Just come to my room after class so we can talk."
In her room, Paula told Fiona about everything: the wetting, the doctor's visits, the diapers, and the near- accidents she'd had in class.
"Wow!" Fiona sounded amazed. "You actually lost control at the clinic? That must be some stress you're under!"
"Must be," Paula echoed.
"And it looks like it's getting worse. Are you going to have to wear those diapers all the time?"
"Maybe." Paula didn't dare tell Fiona the real truth: that in a way, she hoped that that was precisely what would happen. "Don't tell anybody, OK?"
"OK," Fiona agreed.
That weekend, Dylan called Paula. "How are you?" he asked.
So much had happened in just the last week! If she were to continue her relationship with Dylan, he would have to know about her diapers, since she'd be wearing them to bed every night. In fact, of things continued as they were, she might soon be wearing them all the time. So she said, "Fine. You?"
"I've missed you," he said.
"Dylan, I have to confess that I haven't been thinking about you too much. This week's been so busy!"
"That's OK. Want to get together this weekend?"
Paula paused. Cheryl and Fiona were friends, but she didn't know Dylan that well yet. "Um, I don't think we should. Dylan ..."
"Uh-huh?"
"I'm sorry, but there's really too much going on for me this semester. I don't think I'm going to be able to see much of you." It was halfway true, but she couldn't bring herself to break it off completely.
There was a sigh on the other end of the line. "I understand," Dylan said, sounding sad. "We haven't known each other that long, so I don't know if you can call it this, but you want to break up."
Paula sighed. "Yes."
"OK," he said, still clearly not happy but at least definite. "Friends, at least?"
"All right. We'll be friends."
"I'll see you around, then."
"OK, goodbye," said Paula, and she heard him hang up the phone. Paula was a little sad; she'd hoped this relationship might go somewhere, and she knew she'd miss Dylan. She spent the weekend mostly studying and reading.
Saturday night, though, Cheryl went to a party with one of the clubs she was in. "Have fun," said Paula, as Cheryl opened the door to leave.
"I'll try," Cheryl said. "I'll probably be back late. Will you be OK?"
"No problem," Paula said. Cheryl said goodbye and closed the door.
Paula was all by herself, and it was early Saturday evening. What could she do?
Her mind strayed to one of the things Cheryl had said, "Will you be OK?" She thought Cheryl had probably been reminding her to diaper herself before bed. Paula wasn't sure that she'd have remembered without Cheryl's reminder. Wouldn't it be a good idea to put my diapers on now, she thought, while I'm thinking about it?
Paula took her jeans and panties off and took out two diapers, a pair of plastic panties, and the baby powder. She laid the diapers on her bed, settled herself down on top of them and powdered herself thoroughly. Then she fastened the two diapers on, one by one, and pulled up the plastic panties, making sure the diapers didn't stick out any of the openings.
Paula lay there, thinking about how good the diapers felt. It was hard for her to get her legs together with all this fabric between them. She thought about how babyish she'd become, having to wear diapers every night and always waking up soaked. It felt so safe to be in the diapers, and the plastic of the panties felt so nice. She ran a hand across the plastic.
She thought about the fantasies she used to have, long ago. Being turned into a baby by my fairy godmother and being carried off to a magic land where I could stay a baby forever. She felt the thickness of her diapers between her legs. She rubbed a little. It felt good.
Being put back into diapers by my parents because I wet the bed, then having to sleep in a big crib and play in a big playpen. She was rubbing her diapers harder, feeling wonderful.
Waking up one morning to find that I'm the baby in the crib and my brother's the older child instead of me. Her left hand had sneaked upward to her face, and she put the thumb into her mouth. Her right hand was inside her diapers, stroking her clitoris. A moan might have escaped her lips, but if it did Paula didn't notice.
When all my friends are going off to summer camp, finding out that I'm being sent to a day care center for toddlers who still wear diapers ... This time Paula was sure she cried out. Waves of pleasure coursed through her body, and she lay there in heaven for several minutes.
She hoped nobody had heard her. Tired, she went to sleep.
Another day, during a chemistry lab, she was performing a titration, being very careful to watch the color of the solution. Each drop of acid turned pink when it hit the clear solution in the beaker, then disappeared. As drop after drop fell, the pink color lasted longer and longer. Sometimes, she thought, I can tell why Cheryl studies chemistry. This can get very interesting - oops! She felt a little wetness in her panties like before; she'd started to wet as soon as her attention was absorbed. She resolved to pay better attention.
That afternoon Dr. Michaels called Paula. "We've gone over your test results once more," he said, "and we still can't find any reason for your problem."
"Oh, dear. I suppose you must have been right about it being stress. I've read the pamphlet you gave me, but I haven't done anything in it yet. Oh, and Dr. Michaels ..." She paused.
"Yes?"
"I've started wetting during the day. Not much. Just a little, and it only happens when I really have to go, but once it happened when I was really interested in a lab."
"Hmm, I was afraid this might happen. Paula, I must tell you that it's likely you'll start wetting more during the day."
Paula sighed. Inwardly she felt excitement, though she knew nobody should be excited at the prospect of becoming diaper-dependent.
"You might have to wear your undergarments all the time. I prescribed many more than you would need just for nighttime, because I feared you'd need to wear them in the daytime too."
Paula said, "That was good thinking. OK, I can wear them all the time."
"Remember to use powder, and remember to clean yourself well after changes. It's essential if you're to avoid getting a rash."
As soon as she was off the phone, Paula took off her pants and underwear, spread baby powder all over her diaper area and put on a diaper and a pair of plastic pants. When she put her jeans back on, there was a visible bulge where her diapers were. This won't do at all, she thought. She took the pants off and tried a skirt. In the mirror she couldn't tell whether she had diapers on or not. That's a lot better.
That night, when Cheryl came over to diaper her, she saw that Paula already had a diaper on, though it was dry. "Uh-oh, why do you have your diaper on already?"
Paula explained about her phone call from the doctor. "Well," Cheryl said, "looks like I'm going to be changing you more often."
"Really," said Paula, "you don't have to."
"No, I like doing it. Don't you worry, I'll be sure to wash you off and use plenty of powder."
"That's what the doctor said."
"Well, he was right." Cheryl pulled down Paula's plastic pants, put a second diaper on her, and got her all ready for bed.
Paula was now diapered 24 hours a day. Cheryl changed her in the morning and checked her at lunchtime, dinnertime, and bedtime, though the only time she found Paula wet was in the morning.
The next time Paula was in chemistry lab, though, she found herself doing something very interesting again. When she returned to reality this time, though, she discovered that she hadn't just leaked. She had just finished emptying her bladder into her diaper. The diaper and plastic pants had protected her clothes, but she hadn't noticed it until it was already all over! What was happening to her control?
After the lab, Paula hurried back to her room so Cheryl could change her for supper. "Cheryl," she said as she closed the door, "I had an accident."
"Uh-oh! Well, I guess I'd better change you." Paula took off her skirt and lay down on her bed. Cheryl pulled down Paula's plastic pants, unfastened her diaper and dropped it into the diaper pail. Then she used one of the baby wipes they'd bought to clean Paula's diaper region. She spread plenty of baby powder there too, then fastened a fresh diaper on Paula and slid the plastic pants back up.
"Thanks Cheryl!" Paula said, pulling her skirt back on. "You know ... I've never told anybody about this before, but ... I find diapers kind of exciting. Like a sexual fantasy. Ever since I was a kid I've wished I could be in diapers again, and now here I am!"
"Really?" asked Cheryl.
"Yeah! In fact, I used to sometimes sneak my baby brother's diapers and put them on. I tried to wet in them, but I never could. I always had to put them back."
Cheryl paused. "Paula ..."
"Oh great, now you probably think I'm some kind of psychotic."
"No," Cheryl said, "I did that too."
"You did?"
"I did. Only I did manage to wet my baby sister's diapers. When I was old enough to have an allowance I bought diapers of my own, until I didn't fit into them anymore."
"Wow! I thought I was the only one. Frankly, I thought I was some kind of sicko or something."
"I used to think so too, but I've heard of other people liking this. Hey, what do you think of other baby things, like pacifiers and bottles, and baby clothes?"
"I don't know," said Paula, "but I think I'd like them." Other people liking this? Paula thought.
Cheryl continued changing Paula's diapers when she needed it, which was more and more often. Paula seemed to be headed for no bladder control at all. This would be maddening for some, but it was wonderful for Paula.
Over time they traveled to every store they could find, looking for baby items they could use. Soon Paula was never changed without a pacifier in her mouth. The two roommates always drank their soda from baby bottles in private.
Cheryl bought some diapers and plastic pants for herself from another pharmacy, which was a scary experience in itself. They had to put their names in their diapers with laundry markers so they could tell them apart when they washed them together. Although Cheryl didn't need to wear diapers, she wore them and wet them sometimes just for fun.
Midterm exams were approaching, and Paula decided to get started with her studying two weeks early. It was one of the tips in the stress management pamphlet Dr. Michaels had given her. She knocked on Colin's door one evening.
In a moment, he opened the door. "Oh, hi, Paula. What's up?"
"Colin, want to start studying for the poly sci midterm? I want to study about an hour a day for it."
"You know," Colin said, "that's a really good idea. I wonder why more people don't do it."
"Other things they'd rather do, I guess."
"Probably. But I'm not doing much of anything right now. Want to study tonight?"
"Okay. Where?"
Colin looked around his room. "My room's a mess. How about the library?"
The room didn't look messy, but Paula said, "All right. Let's go."
When Paula sat down to study with Colin in the library, she noticed her wet diaper. She didn't remember when she'd wet it. Paula found it strange, the way she kept finding her diaper wet. It seemed like she could stay dry only if she concentrated on it. As soon as her attention wandered from not wetting, it seemed, she would wet.
Another night, Paula invited Colin to study in her room. She knew that Cheryl would be gone, because there was a basketball game that night and she played in the band. "Why don't you take the desk, and I'll sit on the bed?" Paula offered.
But Colin had already sat down on the bed. "No; it's your room; you take the desk," he said.
Paula had been worried that he'd feel the plastic sheet, but he made no sign of noticing anything out of the ordinary. "Okay," she said, "if you insist." Colin spread his books right out on the bed, but Paula noticed to his credit that he never set an uncapped pen down on her bedspread.
"You're seeing a lot of Colin lately, aren't you?" asked Fiona as they walked back from their morning class the next day.
"Yeah, but mostly we've just been studying," Paula said. She was headed for her room for a diaper change, then to lunch.
"Oh. Want to go to lunch?"
"OK, but I have to stop at my room first. I, uh, have to drop off my books."
"I don't. I'll just come to your room too."
"Um, Fiona," Paula said, and then whispered in her ear, "I also need a diaper change. Cheryl's usually there now; she does it for me."
"It's all right. I won't be offended or anything."
Paula agreed, and the two went to Paula's room. Sure enough, Cheryl was there. "Hi, Paula," Cheryl said. "Hello, Fiona."
"Hi, Cheryl," Fiona said, entering and shutting the door.
Cheryl looked at Paula, then at Fiona, then back at Paula. "Time for a change?"
Paula nodded. "Yes, please. Fiona knows." She folded her bedspread out of the way and lay down on her back. Fiona got out of the way. Cheryl quickly pulled down Paula's skirt and plastic panties, then removed Paula's wet diaper and cleaned her off with a baby wipe. She then slid a dry diaper under Paula's derriere, dusted plenty of baby powder all over Paula's diaper region, and spread it around with her hand. Paula looked over at Fiona, who was looking at her with a supportive smile.
Cheryl brought Paula's diaper up between her legs and fastened it, then brought her plastic pants and skirt back up. "There you go."
"Thanks, Cheryl!" Paula said. "We're going to lunch. Want to come?"
"I've already been," said Cheryl. "See you this afternoon!"
"OK. Bye, Cheryl!" Paula said. Fiona waved goodbye as they left the room.
"Why does Cheryl do that?" asked Fiona as they walked toward the dining hall.
"Um, I don't know. She says she likes to."
"Really? Well, all right."
That night at the appointed time Colin came to Paula's door and suggested they study in his room. "It would only be fair," he said.
It's only studying, thought Paula, but she agreed. "Okay!" she said with enthusiasm. "I've seen your room from outside, but I've never been inside."
"Not many people have," he said. "I mean, it's pretty small, not big enough for a party or anything. I usually go other places to talk to people."
So did Paula, but she didn't remember ever seeing Colin at any of them. Maybe the computer science majors went to different parties than the English majors.
Paula got her books, locked her door and went right in. His room was mostly dark, with lots of science-fiction movie posters on the walls. She sat down on the bright red bedspread that covered his bed. "Fair's fair," she said, looking at Colin.
"If you used the desk, it'd be easier on your back," said Colin.
"No, I got the desk last night."
Colin shrugged. "OK," he said, taking a seat at his desk.
Paula and Colin studied silently for a while, looking over their notes from the third chapter of their textbook. Paula loved his bedspread; it was so thick and soft.
She broke the silence by asking, "Colin, did you buy that one book he said was optional? What was it, The American Polity or something like that?"
"Yeah," said Colin, "I got it. It's on my shelf there, above the alarm clock."
Paula looked up. Yes, there it was, a small blue book like the professor had shown them on the first day of class. She took it out, and a sheaf of paper that had been next to it fell on the floor.
"Oops! Sorry; I'll put that back." She picked it up; it was just 20 or so pages of white paper, stapled together, with ... pictures of adults in diapers and baby clothes? She couldn't help it; her eyes widened and her mouth opened.
Colin saw her. "What is it ... oh God. I forgot all about that."
"All about what?" Paula asked. "I mean, what is this? International Diaper Society?" Could it be? thought Paula.
Colin had turned pale. "It's ... um ...."
"Colin, it's OK. Maybe I've found out something new about you, but we're still friends. But what's this about? It's interesting."
He took a deep breath. "The International Diaper Society is an organization for people who have ... a diaper fetish."
"A diaper fetish. They like diapers?" Like me, she thought.
"Yeah. They're ... sexually aroused by diapers."
"And are you?"
"Yeah. Oh God; now you're gonna think I'm some kinda freak." Colin turned and leaned his head against the closet door, eyes closed.
"I don't think anything of the sort, Colin," she said, as warmly as she knew how.
"How couldn't you? I mean, have you ever heard of anybody liking to wear diapers?"
"You're going to be surprised," she said, and she told him about how she used to sneak her sister's diapers, and how she'd always had sexual fantasies about wearing diapers and other baby things. As she spoke Colin turned around and looked at her, an almost hopeful expression on his face. "So I've felt like this as long as I can remember," she finished.
He said, "Paula, you've almost exactly described me, too."
"Well, that's not all," she said. She then told him about how she'd been losing bladder control, and how she was now continuously in diapers, and how Cheryl was changing her. She left out the part about Cheryl liking diapers; that was Cheryl's business for now.
"So you have a huge supply of diapers," Colin said, amazed, "and you didn't even have to pay for them?"
"Plastic pants too," she said, "but I have to wear them, all the time."
"Wow. My supply," and he blushed a little, "my supply cost me a lot."
"Your supply? May I see? If it's OK."
"Um ... yeah, it's fine." He slid open the closet door and moved aside the hanging clothes. Behind them were several plain brown boxes. Opening the boxes, Colin revealed diapers in cute baby prints, many different colors and prints of plastic pants, and some items Paula had never seen before for adults: babyish clothes, and huge bottles and pacifiers.
"Do you like pink?" Paula asked, because most of the items were a light, babyish powdery pink, and some had lacy ruffles on them.
"Er, well," Colin said, "some of us like to be baby boys, and others like to be baby girls."
"You wear baby girl clothes," Paula said, fascinated. "I must confess I don't understand that part, but it's so interesting!"
Colin opened an opaque garment bag that Paula hadn't noticed hanging with Colin's clothes. Inside she saw a dress; it was pink, and it had more lace and frills than she liked, but she supposed it would be perfect for a pampered baby girl. Behind it in the bag were more dresses, and although she couldn't see them well she supposed they were similar in type. "Very pretty things for a baby girl to wear," she remarked. "When do you wear these things?"
"Sometimes, when I'm all alone, I put them on," Colin said. "And I'm diapered almost every night."
"All by yourself? It sounds lonely."
"Yeah, maybe it is." He changed the subject. "You won't tell anybody ... about me, will you?" Colin asked. "If everybody found out, I'd die. Everyone would laugh at me. I'd never get a job."
"I don't know about that," Paula said, "but no, I won't tell anyone. And you don't tell anyone about me, either."
"No, never," said Colin. He laughed nervously. "We can have our own little diaper club. Speaking of which, are you in diapers now?"
She nodded. "All the time, now."
"Can I ... see them?"
Paula nodded and hiked up her ankle-length skirt, revealing her nursery print plastic pants. Today she was wearing the ones with the pink diapered cartoon bunnies.
"Wow, those are cute," said Colin. "Are you wet?"
Again Paula nodded. "Yes. Unfortunately I never even notice when I wet anymore. But I'm wet now; I can feel it. Cheryl's going to have to change me at bedtime."
"Oh, that would be so cool!" Colin zipped up the garment bag and started closing boxes.
"Cool? To wet all the time, or to have someone change you?"
"Wetting all the time ... it's one of my big fantasies. Having someone to change me is right up there too."
"Well, wetting myself all the time used to be a big fantasy ... but maybe it still is. I don't know."
Colin closed the closet door. "I guess we're done with studying for tonight."
Paula laughed. "Yeah, I guess so!"
"Do you want to come back and look at an IDS newsletter? Maybe you'd want to join, when you see some of the things they have."
"I'd like that," said Paula, picking up her books.
From then on, Colin and Paula spent part of each evening studying and part talking about diapers and baby things. He showed her his IDS newsletter and catalog. The number of members worldwide was in the tens of thousands. IDS sold adult-size baby products of every kind, along with books, videos, tapes, and computer software. The newsletters were full of stories, resource guides, letters from members, and pictures. They even had a big house out in the country, equipped with all sorts of adult-sized baby furniture and available for any member to use, as long as they scheduled in advance. Paula filled out a membership form and mailed it with her dues right away.
Paula told Cheryl that she'd told Colin about her diapers, but she kept to her word and didn't tell her anything about Colin. She thought perhaps Cheryl would be interested in the IDS, so she asked her if she could tell Colin about how Cheryl liked diapers. Cheryl said, "Sure, why not. If he didn't freak when you told him about your diapers, why would he freak when you tell him about me?"
Soon, even concentrating didn't help Paula stay dry. She found she could be thinking about staying dry, and suddenly she found herself wetting, and she couldn't do anything to stop it. It was an exciting feeling, like being a baby again, though of course she wasn't messing her diapers.
The midterm was only two days away, and even with Colin's music playing through the walls Paula had trouble sleeping. She didn't want to try drinking warm milk at bedtime or anything like that, because she was afraid her diapers would leak. She tried some of the relaxation techniques that were in the pamphlet from the health center, but they didn't help her sleep.
One night she told Colin about how helpful his music had been. "Colin," she asked when they had finished studying, "you know that music you play to help yourself sleep?"
"Yeah," Colin said, looking a bit nervous again.
"Could I get a copy of that? Hearing it through the wall's been helping me sleep all semester, but now that the midterm's coming up it doesn't help. But maybe if I was able to hear it better I'd fall asleep."
"I have a terrible feeling," said Colin, looking like it. He looked pale again, like when she'd found his newsletter. "When did you say you first started wetting your bed?"
"What does that have to do with it?"
"When?"
"Right around the beginning of the semester," Paula said. "I don't understand why you're asking."
"Because the music may have been the cause of your wetting," said Colin.
"What?"
"Did you see those subliminal tapes in the IDS catalog? The ones that are supposed to make you lose bladder control if you want to?"
"Yeah, I think I saw them ... oh. Is that what the music is?"
"Yes. The music is designed to be relaxing, and there's a subliminal message under the music. They haven't worked on me yet, but I'm still trying. But I never thought they might work through the walls, on someone unsuspecting! I should have used headphones."
"You mean my wetting is all your fault?"
Colin looked abashed. "Yes, I'm afraid so."
Paula thought for a moment. "There was no way you could have known," she said, "so it's not really your fault. Besides, now I get to wear diapers all the time."
"I wanted to lose all control," Colin explained, "except when it would get me in trouble, like when I wasn't wearing diapers. That's not in the tape; that was part of my expectations."
"But I didn't have those expectations," Paula picked up, "so my mind put my fantasy into action."
"Exactly."
Paula paused to think again. "I like the feeling," she said. "It reminds me of how I used to feel when I wore my sister's diapers. Safer."
"Yeah, diapers make me feel safe too," said Colin. "For me that's part of their allure."
"You said the tapes would make you lose all control," Paula asked, "but does that mean bowel control too?"
"Yes," Colin answered, "that too."
"Wow, so I would have started messing in my diapers soon. That's kind of gross, but also kind of exciting. Like a new level of dependency."
"Dependency is another thing that makes being a baby feel good," said Colin.
"So," asked Paula, "is there a way to reverse these tapes?"
"They say that when you stop listening to them their effect gradually wears off," Colin told her, "but if you've been without control for too long, your muscles are too weak to manage full control right away. You'd have to potty- train yourself all over again. It's only been a couple months. You probably wouldn't have too many accidents."
"So you could use headphones, and I could get control back," said Paula. "Or, I could get my own copy of the tape and listen with the same intentions as you, and get back at least enough control to keep me from having accidents when I'm not in diapers." She smiled. "Although that wouldn't be too often."
"Yes," said Colin, "you could do that too."
"That sounds like the best option," Paula said. "I like the feeling of uncontrollable wetting."
"Don't forget messing," Colin reminded her. "You'd make messes, but only in your diapers, and only when it was safe."
"That's true. But I think that's what I want."
Paula copied Colin's music tape, but felt bad about it and bought her own copy from the IDS. The sound was clearer on the original anyway. She also bought herself a big pacifier, a big bottle, and some big baby girl clothes. She and Colin often played dress-up in his room and stayed in all weekend.
Paula also told Colin about Cheryl, and Colin said it was OK to tell Cheryl about him, so Cheryl was brought into their secret circle. Soon Cheryl had joined the IDS too, and like Paula she wanted to buy everything. Cheryl sometimes dressed up with Colin and Paula, and she started using a tape too, only Cheryl got one that wouldn't make her lose bowel control.
Eventually Paula started messing her diapers in her sleep. This was difficult for Cheryl to deal with, so Cheryl started slipping disposable diaper liners into Paula's diaper with every change, and when Paula woke up with a messy diaper she got up and went to the bathroom to clean herself up.
One weekend when she was staying in with Colin, the two were dressed entirely like babies. Colin had on the frilly pink dress that Paula had first seen, with a matching bonnet on his head, lacy pink rhumba panties over his diapers, lace- topped socks and little-girl shoes. Paula wore yellow ribbons in her hair to match her yellow babyish dress. She'd decided not to wear anything to hide her baby-print plastic panties, and she had yellow booties on her feet.
It was around lunchtime, when they usually changed their diapers, put on bibs, and fed each other "baby food," which they'd learned to make out of grown-up food with a food processor. "Paula," asked Colin, "would it be OK if I changed your diaper?"
Paula thought for a moment. "OK. Just remember the diaper liner, in case I mess."
Colin changed Paula as well as Cheryl did, then Paula asked, "Why don't I change you now?" Colin agreed, and Paula did. Colin had a diaper pail too, and Paula had brought over many of her "supplies" for the weekend.
After they'd fed each other "baby food" until they were no longer hungry, and after they'd given each other a bottle of warm milk, Paula felt very relaxed. "I think it's time for a nap," she said to Colin.
Colin looked a bit surprised, but he said, "OK. I'm kind of sleepy, too." The two of them changed into footed sleepers, both pink, got into Colin's bed together, and snuggled together under the blankets. To Colin's further surprise, Paula kissed him. "What was that?" he asked.
"A good-night kiss," she said with a smile. They put pacifiers into their mouths and went to sleep.
Paula woke up, feeling that she must have slept for about an hour. Unsurprisingly, her diapers were a little wet; she could feel that. Colin stirred. "You wet?" she asked him.
"Yes, a little."
"Me too. Colin ..."
"Yeah?"
She put her arm around him. "Do you think we could ... snuggle a little more actively?"
"Active snuggling? You want to make love?"
"Yeah. Being in these diapers and baby clothes turns me on."
"Me too ... in fact, I've wanted to make love to you for a long time."
"Oh, so have I. I think we've gotten to know each other well enough by now. Besides," she added, "all we'll do is make our diapers wetter. Diapers are like the ultimate in safe sex."
They didn't talk for a while after that. His touch on her breasts through the baby sleeper felt wonderful. They felt each others bodies and diapered bottoms through their baby pajamas. She liked the feeling of the stiff plastic of their plastic pants. They kissed deeply and rolled into a position with her on top of him.
She thrust with her pelvis and felt him thrust back. The feeling was wonderful. They thrust again and again, faster and faster. Paula was so excited she hardly knew where she was, but she tried to hold onto the knowledge of what she was wearing. Normally, thrusting like this wouldn't have been enough to make her climax, but in diapers and baby clothes, and with a man who also wore and loved diapers and baby clothes ... she went over the edge. For some time, she had no idea how long, she felt nothing but pleasure.
When the fireworks ended, she saw Colin and she felt warmth in her diapers. "Wow," she said. "Did you come?"
"Oh, yeah. Wow. Did you?"
"It was the best orgasm I've ever had," she said. "I think it was probably the diapers, and the fact that I'm with you."
"I can't tell if it was the best one I've ever had," Colin responded, "but it was right up there."
Paula felt tired now. "Wow," she said again. They fell asleep again, even forgetting their pacifiers.
Paula went on to lose all bowel control, messing herself frequently and uncontrollably except when somebody who didn't know about her was around. Fiona stayed her close friend, knowing all about Paula's dependency on diapers but so far knowing nothing about her love for them.
When her parents came to visit, she had to go without diapers, so she made sure to go to the bathroom as often as she could. Paula was amazed, but she found that she had no accidents as long as she wasn't in diapers! When her parents left and Cheryl put her back into diapers, she immediately wet them, and she found herself just as uncontrollable as before.
Colin finally started to lose control, too, and he kept Paula up to date on his progress. Finally, Cheryl started waking up wet, and the three had a party to celebrate. They picked Monday as a good day to go without diapers every week, to make sure their muscles didn't get too weak to allow them control when they needed it. At long last, around the end of the semester, they all had exactly the amount of control they wanted, which was none at all except when they needed it.
Sadly, when the semester ended and summer came around, the three had to part, but they all intended to come back in the fall.
Copyright © 1998 by Tom Lee
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This file was last modified on August 29, 2005.
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