Wet American Summer (Chapter 9) (Patreon)

Here I am. Back to the start.
My name is Ashley. I’m 19 years old…. and I’m currently in bed, wearing a diaper.
I know you’re thinking that I must be some kind of bed wetter. That even though I’m an adult, I still need diapers to stay dry at night. Think again.

Now you know how I got to this point. Sitting on my bed in my purple pajamas that hardly cover the thick, crinkly, baby-powder-smelling bulge under them. 

There is now a half-finished package of Goodnites in my dresser, an unopened package of the same Pull-Ups to follow it up as well as a pack of big puffy Bambino diapers such as the one I’m currently wearing, with printed blocks spelling ‘’baby’’ over them.

I have to leave this place, it’s making me crazy. I feel helpless and ashamed. Even though I could just take off that diaper and go, I don’t have the strength. All I can think about is that tomorrow I’m packing my things, walking to the bus stop and taking the first one back to the city.

I can’t shake off the image of myself in the bathroom with Frankie, my wet Pull-Ups sagging between my legs as she brought me a diaper to wear for the night. It was pure humiliation, but at the same time it felt familiar. Like I was back to my 4 year old self for a moment.

Even now as I’m sitting on my bed, my thighs pushed apart by the thickness of my diaper, I can’t help but feel a sort of resilience. Do I deserve this? Did I bring it all on myself?

I’m now at the stage where I wear Pull-Ups during the day and diapers at night. If I stay here, what will happen next? Will I find myself slowly regressing, having ‘’accidents’’ in my Pull-Ups more often? Is my whole family gonna start checking the state of my Goodnites, like it’s normal for a fucking 19 year old to be pissing herself every now and then…. And after a few of those times, are they gonna put me back in diapers in the daytime too? Carry a diaper bag around so they can ‘’change me’’ wherever they want? I don’t think so. There’s only so much I can take.

I heard a knock on the door. It was Aunt Sally. Probably the last person I wanted to see except maybe Frankie.

Sally: Hey honey… can you tell me what happened earlier?

Frankie had probably snitched on me at the first occasion.

Ashley: Aunt Sally… it’s not a good time. I’m sure Frankie told you her version already.

Sally: She did nothing of the sort… however I did find this hidden in the bathroom upstairs…

She was holding my wet jean shorts. I was planning on coming back to get them when everyone was asleep, but I guess she found it under the towel I had put over it.

Sally: Could you care to explain? I thought I was clear about you wearing protection in case those accidents happened… weren’t you wearing one?

The was a moment of silence. 

Sally: Ashley? Why weren’t you wearing your Goodnites?

Ashley : I was…

Sally: I’m sorry?

Ashley: I said I was. They leaked.

Aunt Sally had a look on her face, like she already knew the answer but wanted me to confirm it.

Sally: I see. Ashley what’s going on? You’re 19 years old… you’ve been potty trained for years now. Or at least during the day. Why the accidents all of a sudden honey? Are you looking for attention, is that what’s happening? Maybe you see Frankie is taking on more responsibilities and you act out to get everyone to look after you again.

I couldn’t say anything to that. Is that what she thought was going on? That I would deliberately act like a child in order to be the center of attention?

Sally: I know you’ve always been the baby of the family and had all kinds of special treatments, but your behavior lately… I can’t accept it. Do you expect me to believe that a young woman like yourself, reverting back to peeing your pants and wearing Pull-Ups is normal? I thought the child treatment for a few days would get you to see reason. That it would make you want to act like a grown up again, but if it’s my attention you want, you’re gonna get it, let me tell you that. 

So it was all a test? Putting Frankie in charge, making me wear Goodnites, threatening to spank me… And I failed it? 

Ashley: Aunt Sally, it’s not…

Sally: Let me finish. You wet yourself two days in a row now. 2 times you peed in your Pull-Ups that were only meant to teach you a lesson. What am I to do with this? I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing… but I won’t encourage it. I was thinking by now you would be back to your regular underwear, but clearly you’re not ready yet. So tomorrow it’s Pull-Ups once again, but this time if you have an accident I will know, and it’ll be spanking for you, young lady. If it’s the child treatment you want, you’re gonna get it.

She paused and looked at me for a second. I was speechless. Exhausted. I had no motivation to even try to make her change her mind, knowing it would only make her angrier. I only wanted to go away.

Sally: Are you wearing the diaper I asked Frankie to buy?

Ashley: Yes…

Sally: Show me.

I slowly swallowed, tears in my eyes. I was broken. I got up and pulled my pajama pants waistband down a few inches, just enough for her to see the blocks on the diaper that spelled ‘’baby’’.

She walked over and grabbed the pants by the side and yanked them down my ankles. Causing me to gasp. I was now standing in the middle of the room, pants down, my puffy, childish diaper exposed. 

Sally : Look at you. What a big girl you are. Do you enjoy that?

I shook my head. 

Sally: Good. You can pull up your pants up now. You’ll be put in your diaper every night until you stop wetting yourself. And that includes bedwetting. Understood? It’s about time we do something about it. I’ll see you in the morning.

Sally walked away and left me with my shame. Grabbing my pajama pants and covering up my diaper. One thing was clear in my mind: tomorrow I’m leaving.