Maggies Regression Scene 3

Maggie was frustrated. It had been a long day of boring lectures. Maggie felt that if somebody could make even the 1960s sound like a boring time, they really shouldn’t be allowed to teach. Especially at the beginning of the semester. They’d pose a suicide risk for the students. She had told her boyfriend Christopher that over lunch. Well, he wasn’t really her boyfriend; they were more like friends with benefits. He had made all the right, sympathetic noises, but she knew he’d been ogling one of the new psychology professors. Maggie had to snap her fingers in Christopher’s face to wake him up. She had said that she didn’t really blame him for looking; after all, it was impressive how she looked like she was in her early thirties while she had to be at least a decade older, but that hadn’t been true. She had been feeling down and looking for some sympathy, not a not-quite-boyfriend who couldn’t keep his attention on her for two minutes. In hindsight she regretted not just getting up and leaving right there and then. Instead she had played the part of the loyal friend and stuck around until Christopher had had to leave for class.

After that, Maggie had had to endure another couple of classes that thankfully weren’t quite as bad as the history lecture, but they had still been annoyingly tedious. Add to that four hours of work, and by the time Maggie returned to her tiny apartment, she was just about ready to strangle someone. She really wasn’t cut out for work in the retail sector, particularly during back-to-school sales. Even flying around Azeroth on her favourite World of Warcraft character failed to relax her. There was really only one thing to do: Maggie went to bed early.

For Maggie, getting ready for bed when she was feeling like this was a little more elaborate than normally. She started by pulling out the bottom towel from the neatly folded stack in her tiny bathroom. It was the biggest and softest of them all and she always made sure to put it at the bottom of the stack so she wouldn’t grab it by mistake. Maggie moved the table out of the way, pulled out the sleeper sofa and quickly made the bed. Next she spread the towel out on the bed and folded it several times. After stripping, she sat down on the towel and pulled it up between her legs. She slipped her feet into a pair of oversized granny panties and pulled them up so they held the towel in place.

Maggie didn’t need the diaper, but for some reason she liked the feeling of being padded; she always had. The thicker the better. If she couldn’t bring her legs together, that was perfect. She had lost count of how often she had woken up with most of her duvet stuffed between her legs when she was younger. As she grew older, she had begun to do it intentionally before she fell asleep. At first just using a blanket or her duvet, but eventually she switched to towels. Maggie had never shared this with anyone, but whenever she was stressed or upset, the temptation was always there. And more often than not, she acted on it.

Maggie could almost feel the tension leave her body as she lay on her bed, the evening sun peeking in around the edges of her curtains and the warm summer air making a slight sheen of sweat appear on her skin. She slipped a hand inside her diaper and lazily played with herself while she listened to the traffic outside. Eventually, she drifted off to sleep.