(Though based on real events, the following story has been fictionalized)
After going to a Catholic all-girl prep school run by nuns, going to a public high school was bliss. I had been wearing diapers off and on for almost a year, hiding them from my parents after the first incident. The first time I was caught I was made to wear and use an entire package until they were gone whenever I wasn’t in school. My parents had a thing for this, I was caught with a pack of cigarettes once and they made me smoke the whole thing in one sitting to teach me a lesson; not cool. The couple weeks I spent mostly in diapers didn’t seem so much like punishment though, I found I enjoyed wearing and using them. My friends, and frankly everyone at my school, knew I wore them and my friends never seemed to care. I had a deserving reputation at my old school for having accidents in class, which was what got me started wearing diapers. But enough of reminiscing, this is a story about an event from public school. Well, to be more accurate a series of incidents.
As I said before, I had been secretly wearing diapers for going on a year after I first got caught. Going to public school was a lot better than the school I went to before, if you needed to go to the bathroom during class you were allowed. Because of this I hadn’t had a real accident since I started going, but that doesn’t mean I hadn’t peed in class a few times. Our school had gym every other day and we had to change for that, so if I felt like wearing a diaper to school I just made sure to do so on the alternate days. This afforded me several opportunities to indulge in diaper wearing over the first semester I had been there, and I had never been caught. My new friends didn’t even know, and I didn’t see much need to tell them; I left the “diaper-baby” reputation behind me. I was growing a lot bolder in this new school too, several times I packed an extra diaper or two in my backpack to change into part way though the day when the last one was full. I made it a point not to soil my diapers, since that would take some time to clean and if the smell got out it might give me away. That isn’t to say it didn’t happen a few times.
Anyway, time to get to the actual event. I’m sorry, I tend to reminisce a lot. It was near the beginning of the second semester, late January. Before class began, early in the morning, I was hanging out in the hall with one of my friends, Paul. Paul was talking about how he couldn’t wait to go out on his snowmobile, as soon as we got some appreciable snow. The winter had been fairly warm so far and the only places you could really use a snowmobile was on one of the industrially-snowed mountains, which Paul couldn’t afford to get admission to anyway. I remember half-listening to him and thinking about a paper I had to have written for that Friday but hadn’t even started yet. In the middle of this I felt the urge to pee and given that it wasn’t a gym day I just let go. It was actually several seconds before I started to feel wet, and then I felt it dripping down one of my legs. I hadn’t put on a diaper that morning, I was wearing panties, the non-waterproof kind! I froze in place out of sudden panic, and doing so alerted my friends that something was wrong. As soon as they looked at me they knew what was up, a big wet mark was growing on the back of my skirt and a puddle was forming underneath me. Talk about flashbacks. Most of my friends along with everyone currently in the hall started laughing, Paul asked if I was okay. I couldn’t even speak, I just ran as fast as I could to the ladies’. I nearly dove into a stall and slammed the door shut. Upon lifting up my skirt to inspect the damage I found that not only was there a wet stain on my skirt but my panties were soaked.
It was about five minutes of wiping my clothes dry with toilet paper before I was calming down. I tried to figure out what to do: if I went on with my day I’d have a big pee stain over my ass, if I went to the nurse and called home my parents would know I had an accident. The first wasn’t that great but I feared the second more, if my parents knew I had an accident they might start looking through my room and possibly find my stash of diapers. I concluded to go with the first option, took my coat and tied it around my waist. I just barely got to class in time, but the rest of the day wasn’t too bad apart from the slightly damp feeling of my panties. There were so many kids in our school that no one who saw what I did even really knew who I was. After school Paul walked me home, he’s always been a gentlemanly type. He asked if there was anything wrong and what exactly had happened that morning. I decided that it was better to tell the truth at this point, he’s a nice guy and my old friends were cool with it. I explained to him that I wore diapers, to which he asked if it was something medical. I let him know that I didn’t have any medical condition that made me have to wear them, I just enjoy doing so. He was quiet for a bit and I continued on telling him that my accident that morning was because I thought I was wearing a diaper when I wasn’t. Comfortingly enough he was cool with it; he was mostly confused as to how I was able to willingly go to the bathroom while clothed like that. I told him about my older experiences with accidents and such, and how it took some time to get used to peeing regardless of circumstance. He didn’t say much except to say he was okay with it. I got the feeling he found it weird but not freakishly so.
He walked me up to my door and asked if I was going to be all right. I assured him I would and he went home as I went inside. I went upstairs to my room as quickly as possible and locked the door. I rummaged through my closet until I found my hidden diaper stash under a mound of stuffed animals. I took my now-dry panties and skirt off and put a diaper on under a fresh skirt. Fortunately my parents always had me do my own laundry but I had the feeling they spied on my stuff once and a while, probably looking for stray prophylactics or ‘unnecessarily’ sexy underwear. I put my recently wetted clothing in with some of my other clothes and did my laundry to destroy the evidence. After getting my stuff in the washing machine I relaxed a bit and went out to the mall to meet with some other friends from school. There was no snow outside and it was about 55ish degrees, so I just grabbed a coat and left. About halfway to the mall I met up with my pals and we talked all the way there. A couple of them heard about my accident earlier that day and also asked what was up. I feigned ignorance and thought about if I wanted to tell them too, they were more the gossipy types and so I decided not to.
The mall was pretty busy for a weekday afternoon but we didn’t care, we just bopped about different stores window shopping and getting drinks and buying clothes. While we were sitting in the food court I stopped myself from peeing just long enough to remember I was wearing a diaper this time then I let myself go. The number of sodas I had was probably excessive, and after another hour of wandering the mall I had to go again, this time while looking through dresses. I concluded that I would need to change before I had to go again, but were wrapping up our trip and so I decided to wait. On our way out one of my friends, Jen, suggested we go into the Victoria’s Secret and try on some stuff that would make our parents cringe. Sounded like fun so we went in and looked around their selection of sheer and lacy things for a good half-hour before buying a couple items each and leaving. I even tried on a teddy over my diaper, it looked good and I felt sexy in the combination of lingerie and diaper.
As we approached the mall exit we saw that the weather had picked up a bit, but snow hadn’t had much time to settle so we didn’t think it would be worth the cab fare to get a ride and set out into the building storm. I had the unfortunate luck of drawing to myself a strong gust, right as I was talking. The wind blew my skirt right up in front of my friends, which would have been okay except for what I was wearing underneath. Jen was the only one who didn’t see what I had on, and she quickly heard. “Oh my gosh, was that a diaper?” was the first thing anyone said. I steeled myself and confirmed that it was in fact a diaper that I had on and that I had worn them fairly often. After some discussion and questions back and forth I also confirmed that it was in fact wet, and told them that I had my accident that morning because I thought I was wearing one when I wasn’t. To my surprise they wanted to see it, and when no one was looking I showed them again, this time without the aid of wind. They ‘ewwed’ a little but not disgustedly, and then we went on our way back home discussing why I wore them.
When we got back to my house my friends asked if they could come in, and I figured why not. I told them several times over the trip back that they couldn’t tell anyone about my diapers and they agreed. My parents heard me come in when we all got back and asked if there was anyone with me. I told them who was here and they said “Hey” to all of them. We went up to my room and I got another diaper out of my closet and went to the bathroom to change. When I got back they all looked pensive and finally Jen told me that they wanted to give it a try. It took me a moment to figure out just what they meant by that, then told them “sure.” One by one I gave them one of my diapers and they went to the bathroom to change. The all came back looking kind of nervous and excited and commented something like “this feels kinda weird” or “umm... neat.” The great thing was that even with my friends who were wearing jeans you couldn’t tell what they had on underneath. We chatted and joked and talked about boys and other such pastimes, I played videogames, and Alison practiced juggling, all while we were wearing diapers.
About an hour and a half later Jen, who in case you hadn’t guessed was the adventurous and active type, said she had to go to the bathroom. Alison asked if she was going to go in the “thing”, since she found it too weird to say diaper I guess. Jen said she would and left my room. She got back about five minutes later and we just sat there waiting for info. She sat down and told us that while it took her a while she managed to go after sitting down on the toilet with the diaper on. We of course wanted proof and she hiked up her skirt to show us, and there was indeed some of the wetness indicator filled. A couple others tried the same thing after a while with it taking from two to ten minutes each. Not everyone went but most did. Once out hang-out was over and they started heading out I told them to hide it until trash day then throw it out in the can when no one is around if they wanted to conceal what they had worn that day. They thanked me for letting them try something like that, but most looked embarrassed at what they had done. I found out a couple days later that Alison, who had looked most nervous of all, hadn’t had the nerve to wear just a diaper and so had put it on over her panties. What I found terribly amusing is that she had been one of the ones to wet their diapers, meaning she had peed through her panties into it! Just seemed somewhat self-defeating in the long run.
The last event in this series of incidents took place a few days later, on the Friday the paper was due; and yes, I had managed to get it done. On the way back from school I ended up messing my diaper just minutes before I was supposed to meet up with Paul to go see a movie with some other friends. I was afraid he would be disgusted by it if I told him or he found out, but if I covered it up and he found out that would probably be worse. So, when we got together and started toward the theater I told him quite flatly, “I’m going to have to change my diaper when we get there.” He didn’t immediately question it and we just went on our way. After a couple minutes he asked me if I really needed to change or if I could just go to the bathroom normally if I had to go. I told him that I could use the bathroom, problem was I didn’t need to change because I was wet. He got what I meant very quickly and responded with a “Oh.” When we got to the theater I went into the bathroom and removed my slightly sagging diaper and started cleaning myself up. I put on a new diaper and then joined up with the guys in the lobby to get my ticket. Paul didn’t tell them anything but once we were in the theater he talked with me quietly and asked if it was an accident or intentional. I told him it was an accident, and that I usually don’t soil my diaper if I can help it. He asked what I was wearing under my skirt and after telling him that that question would normally get him slapped let him know I was diapered. He didn’t ask me any more on the subject and we just enjoyed the movie together. The only thing he hinted was on the way out from the theater, he gave me a light smack on the rear. In hindsight I think he was somewhat turned on by what I was wearing, but I never thought to pursue him. Paul was more like a brother than a boyfriend for me; besides, I mostly prefer women.
Well, those are the notable diaper-related events of my high-school years. I’ve always been good at concealing what I’m doing from my parents, and now I’m totally free in college to do whatever I like. College is nearing an end though; I wonder what the future will hold for the old diaper-girl. Next story will be some of the many things that have happened in my collegiate experience.