Attitude of Gratitude (Patreon)

 I just want to tell you how much I appreciate everything you've done for me. I really can't overstate how wonderful you've been over these last few weeks. When I think of the person I used to be, I don't even recognize her. I used to be so stressed out, so uptight, so overwhelmed by all the pressures in my life. It was like I was trapped in this constant life-or-death struggle. I felt like I had to win everything. Trying to be liked, trying to get promoted at work, trying to be fit and fashionable and up-to-date and informed. Looking back, I realize that the reason I was trying to do so many things at once is the same reason that I was so unhappy. My life was empty. I was trying desperately to please everyone except myself. I was lonely, and yet I felt compelled to keep everyone around me at arm's length, never showing my real feelings for fear of being judged.

 Our first date was so wonderful. I can't remember the last time I found it so effortless to just open up and be myself around someone, especially someone I had just met. I felt so accepted, so reassured. I may have hit the wine a little too hard, I'll admit. When you pulled out that pacifier and asked me if I want to try it, as strange and out of place as it was, I felt it just made sense to say yes. I remember how my cheeks glowed when I realized how many people were watching me suck on a pacifier, but it felt so nice that I didn't really want to stop. It was scary when I tried to take it out and realized that I couldn't, and also when I tried to stand up and realized I couldn't do that either. Here I was, struggling and thrashing around, trying to make my butt lift even a single inch off that chair, and you were just talking to me so calmly, just casually explaining how you were going to take control of my life. I don't remember everything you said, of course, but I do remember how I felt when I finally stopped struggling and just sat there, relaxing. I felt so...weightless, so free. It was like I suddenly had no options to consider, no choices to make. It was like I had been running on a treadmill for years, and I was finally allowed to just sit down and let things happen. I remember how you were talking to me in that smooth, confident way you do, and I just started smiling and nodding along, even though I couldn't really follow what you were saying. It felt so relaxing to let my thoughts wander off and allow your voice to flow into me. All the way home, I couldn't stop smiling. It was unlike anything I had ever imagined, but it was exactly what I needed.

 And that night, I had the most peaceful sleep I've had in years. I can't quite recall all the dreams I had, but I definitely remember floating in the air above a beautiful range of snow-capped mountains, the wind carrying me through white clouds and lush forests and past tumbling waterfalls. It was the most deep, peaceful night's sleep I had had in years. It felt so good I was barely even angry to find out that I had wet the bed. Having to clean my sheets and pajamas was a chore, of course, but compared to sitting up half the night, staring at the ceiling, running through every mistake I've ever made and worrying about everything I would have to do tomorrow...I would gladly accept a wet bed over that.

 I wet the bed the following night, too. And the next. But you knew that, of course. Our second date was you taking me to buy me my new nighttime diapers. Having to go through the checkout with two big cases of adult diapers would have been bad enough, but you also told me to get several sets of fleece footie pajamas in my size and a little stuffed koala.. My "Bedwetter Kit" is what you called it. My face was already blazing when we went through the checkout line. I felt like everyone was staring at me. Then you told me to explain to the nice lady scanning the items that all these things were for me because I was a silly little bedwetter. I don't think I'd ever felt embarrassment on that scale before! I wanted to just melt into the floor and never be seen or heard from ever again!

 But, the moment passed. I have no idea what that poor woman thought about what I had told her, but a few minutes later, we were loading my new diapers into the back of your car, and I felt that beautiful, weightless feeling fall over me again. It was like my ego had been torn down the middle, and all I felt was how wonderful it was to be rid of it. I could just...be embarrassed, be a silly little laughingstock, and it wasn't the end of the world. I no longer had this desperate, insane need to try to impress complete strangers. I didn't need to constantly show how tough and smart and independent I was. I could just wear my silly little bedwetter pants to bed every single night, and wake up every morning with them full and sagging and smelling of pee, and it was okay. Suddenly, I was allowed to just be cute and silly and pathetic, and it didn't hurt.

 I never would have imagined a date ending with being taped into an adult diaper and tucked into my bed. I certainly never would have imagined how amazingly good it would feel. I loved how soft and thick the diaper was. I loved how it cradled my rear and pushed my thighs apart. But it was more than that. It was the way you told me that I was a good girl, that it was okay that I wet the bed, and that you were there for me to keep me comfortable and safe. It was the way you kissed me on the forehead and told me everything was going to be alright. I remember the hot flashes in my cheeks, the quickening of my pulse, and the lump in my throat, as you held up my pacifier and slid it between my lips. Then, I effortlessly drifted off to sleep, you voice echoing in my mind.

  After a few days, I found myself adjusting to the life of an adult bedwetter. I always slept beautifully, always with happy dreams that I couldn't quite recall the next morning, always wearing my diaper and my footie pajamas, with my pacifier in my mouth and my cute little koala snuggled in my arms. Then the next morning, I would peel off my soaked diaper, face glowing, shower, and change into my grown-up clothes for work.

 I didn't expect my nighttime life to bleed over into my professional life, but my co-workers noticed the difference almost immediately. I got tons of compliments about how much more relaxed and easy-going I was all of a sudden. Obviously, I was in a much better mood from getting so much high-quality sleep, but it was more than that. The simple, inescapable fact that I was a bedwetter was always hovering in the back of my mind. I couldn't snap at people or put on airs like I used to, knowing that my soggy nighttime diaper was still sitting in a trashbag at home. I kept finding myself apologizing when I used to get defensive, or nodding along in agreement when I would normally argue or complain. As the days wore on, in was pretty clear that I had been essentially declawed, that I gone from a tough, assertive, independently-minded woman to a cute little pushover. And everyone around me liked me better that way.

 And when I realized that, I also realized that I didn't want to go back. I wanted more. I wanted to soak in this magical feeling of blissful contentment that you had given me. I couldn't wait for you to call. I texted you, asking for another date, begging you to take me even deeper.

 This time, you started by tying my hair into a pair of pigtails, and explaining that this would be how I wore my hair from now on. It was frightening to think of changing my appearance in such an obvious way, making myself visibly more juvenile and immature, but I nodded and accepted it. Then, you told me that it was time to destroy all my big-girl underwear. I remember how conflicted I felt as you watched me pull every pair of panties I owned out of the drawer, cutting each one down the middle with a pair of scissors, and discarding them into the trash. I was blushing down to my toes, but it was also such a relief. I wasn't being given a choice. I simply had to listen to you and do as I was told. Nothing was my choice, so nothing was my fault. I can't describe how freeing it felt every time you would speak to me, and I would instantly feel all my desire to resist dissolve. When I finally tugged my last pair of panties down my legs, snipped them in half, and tossed them into the growing pile in the trash, you announced it was time for me to get acquainted with my new daytime underwear.

 I couldn't believe how ridiculous I looked in my new pull-ups. They were all in bright colors and decorated with cartoon princesses. You gave me a choice between Cinderella and Tinkerbell. I eventually chose Tinkerbell, although it was a struggle. It was so hard to make even simple decisions without your help. I bit my lip and stared down at my feet as you made me step into them and then slid them up my legs. When you straightened them around my waist, something about the way they felt on me was so...permanent. You just kept patting and rubbing my rear through the padding as you explained how they would be a constant reminder of my new status. How I would be aware, at every moment, that I was wearing pull-ups, and how that would make it almost impossible for me to take myself seriously anymore. How my bladder was going to keep getting weaker and less reliable, and how I would start having accidents in my pull-ups whenever I was scared, or stressed, or if I tried to focus too hard on something. I bit my bottom lip. My toes curled up. I couldn't believe that anything could feel so humiliating and so satisfying at the same time.

 Over the next few weeks, I was in pull-ups whenever I wasn't in my pajamas. There were definitely times when I missed my big-girl undies, but more and more I found myself missing the security of my nighttime diapers instead. Running off to the restroom to change into a dry pull-up became a normal part of my routine. I started bringing my pacifier with me to work, so I could slip it into my mouth whenever I was alone. It was so hard to focus on work. I ended up spending way to much time on my phone, watching cartoons. A few of my co-workers started getting concerned, especially when I started making little doodles in the margins of my reports without realizing it. It didn't bother me, though. I knew you would be there to help me, no matter what. I counted the hours until I could see you again.

 "I admit, I was skeptical at first when you told me you were going to start spanking me. I guess I had this image of being spanked as this really negative thing, you know? I never would have imagined that it could feel so liberating. For one thing, I've never had such clear, easily-understood boundaries in a relationship before. When I think back to the person I used to be and how I felt trying to navigate other people's feelings, I felt like I was constantly crossing all these invisible boundaries. I never really knew what was a problem and what was fair game. I never really knew when I had screwed up, and I would just play everything I said and did over and over wondering where I had gone wrong, and whether or not I was being punished for it. I can't tell you how much better it feels when you just...correct me. No need for arguing or anger or any passive-aggressive bullshit. You tell me exactly what I did that didn't please you, you pull me over your lap, you spank me until I'm crying, then you rub my bottom and tell me that all is forgiven and that I'm a good girl again. No ambiguity, no grudges, no snipping and snapping back and forth, just a good spanking and it's all over. I don't know how to describe the absolute peace that settles over me right after you finish spanking me. I've actually started to relish the feeling of a sore bottom. It's like a warm glow that follows me around all day, reminding me that you cared about me enough to put time and effort into setting me right. Even after the soreness has faded, that sense of peace lingers. It's like I have a clean slate, and I'm free to just relax and focus on being a good girl.

 I got demoted at work. I wasn't all that surprised, really. I knew my performance hadn't been very impressive lately. My mind kept wandering off while I was trying to work. Sometimes someone would ask me a question, and all I could think about was how badly I wanted my pacifier. I felt overwhelmed by all the paperwork I was expected to handle, and I had to keep asking my subordinates for help with things I used to do myself. It would probably have been a good idea to phrase it more as an order and less as a plea for help, but I just felt silly trying to order people around now that I was in pull-ups. When my supervisor called and asked me to see her in her office, I knew what was coming.

 Getting demoted should have been my worst fear come to life, but all I could think about was how relieved I was to be out from under the burden of all that stress and anxiety. It wasn't like my superiors were even really mad at me. They seemed to find my new, more congenial attitude just as charming and endearing as all my subordinates. Former subordinates, I should say. I just smiled and nodded along as they explained that the position called for someone decisive and forceful, and I had to agree that that simply wasn't me anymore. They mentioned my pigtails, which made me blush so hard! I wonder what they would have thought if they had known what I was wearing under my pantsuit. I just sat there beaming as they went over my new duties with me, feeling my bladder let go yet again. It's lucky my pull-ups didn't leak!

 I love my new job. The pay isn't as good of course, but that isn't so important to me anymore. I love how I never have to make decisions for myself these days. My brain is almost completely silent the whole day! I have such a nice supervisor. She used to work under me, and my demotion was such a wonderful opportunity for her. She really stepped up and proved herself! She's been so patient with me, and she does a great job of making sure I know what I'm supposed to be doing at all times. I make coffee a lot, I'm good at that. I was surprised to find that I never have any trouble remembering people's coffee orders. My brain is pretty fuzzy most of the time, but there's something about being given an order that just grabs hold and won't let me go until I've...obeyed. Oh my, what a lovely word! I get to obey and obey all day long! Just hours of pleasing people, giving them all exactly what they ask for, without ever having to think for myself. I've never been so happy at work before.

 I was so excited when you told me it was time for me to move in with you. It felt like such a natural next step for us. I hate being home alone, with no one around to tell me what to do. I love having plenty of little chores to do when I get home from the office. Lots of simple little tasks that don't require much thought or concentration, so I can just relax and watch myself go through the motions, enjoying the silence in my mind. And of course, the second I get home, it's off with my pull-ups and on with my diapers. They aren't just for nighttime these days. I thought being put back into pull-ups was embarrassing, but it's nothing compared to being a silly little diaper baby around the house. Every day, I get to look forward to soaking my pampers again and again, and skipping over to you to beg on my knees for another diaper change. Every time you pat me on the head, slap my rear, tickle my belly, or send me scurrying off to fetch you any little thing you might want, I feel that blissful weightlessness fall over me again.

 I never want this to be over. I feel like I've finally found the recipe for real, lasting happiness, and I owe it all to you. Thank you so, so much.