Meg’s Transformation42

Not today,” she said dejectedly. She did, after all, agree to try it for a whole day.
“OK. Catch you later.”
“Byers.”
Megan felt guilty about not being able to tell her best friend her reason for not going out. Despite Helen’s assurances and her parents’ support, part of her still found it embarrassing. She knew that she would have to conquer that part, especially if she wanted to wear full time. She also knew she wouldn’t be able to lead a double life. She would have to tell everyone. Des. Sabrina. Josh. Even Ted. Though Josh held the power to get her fired, it was Ted’s reaction she feared most. He was still her measuring stick and she was loath to miss the mark.
The dampness in Megan’s diaper was quickly forgotten and she moved on to some journal-writing. As she struggled to enumerate the plethora of feelings she was experiencing, another old habit came back. Megan soon found herself biting her nails. Fearing she would wear them down to mere stubs, she reached for her pacifier and popped it into her mouth. Let her teeth assail that for the time being.
“Ugh. Me bored,” she exclaimed when she could write no more. Megan desperately wanted to go outside and play. However, she knew that exposing herself would be folly. And yet if she dressed, she would likely forget she was in baby mode and be tempted to head out. Besides, she doubted she had anything that would fit over her double thick diapers.
After a moment’s contemplation, she settled on an overlong, baggy t-shirt she picked up at the campus bookstore a few weeks back. Kylie had joked that there was room enough in the shirt for both of them. It would do a sufficient job of covering her diapers and still allow her to feel suitably babyish. She slid on a pair of sandals to complete her ensemble and examined herself in the mirror. She thought she looked unbelievably cute.
Before heading out, Megan grabbed a banana and a glass of juice. Her mother had neglected to get her a bottle. In time, Megan thought. In time.
In the privacy of her backyard under the midday sun, Megan found herself lost in the throes of her own imagination. Her diapers did an ample job of cushioning her butt from the pointy grass and she was able to make herself comfortable. She imagined that before her was a golden plate on which lay several eggs. These, however, were no ordinary eggs. One was laid by a golden goose and would make all her dreams come true. Another was the egg of a vulture and could mean death. She imagined that her friends were around her, encouraging her to make her pick….
It had been years since she thought of, let alone played, the Egg Game. That was odd, considering when she was younger, she played it constantly. She played it with her sisters. She played it with her friends. She even played it with Shawn Means, who lived down the street from her and could be a real jerk sometimes but was sweet underneath and she might have had a crush on at one point. The Egg Game, which was played with a set of brightly colored plastic eggs, was her escape for many years. Bad day at school? Upset because Alison Dowry didn’t invite her to her birthday party? Didn’t matter; the Egg Game let her be whatever and whoever she wanted…albeit for a couple of minutes at any rate.
Megan took a deep breath and sighed. She looked at her 19-year-old hands and thickly diapered crotch in disbelief. It was an acute form of future shock, as if she expected herself to be only 6 and wearing Minnie Mouse panties.
“Freaky,” she remarked. Even Stephen wouldn’t remember (or wouldn’t want to, as he was often an unwilling participant) the egg game if asked about it. As for Shawn, the last she heard, he had enlisted in the Army.
Refocusing, Megan let herself go once more. This time, Ted’s was among the menagerie of faces by her side. It was impossible, of course, as she had not known him then. But it was her daydream and, of course, he belonged.
“Choose that one,” he encouraged, his easy smile lulling her into making an even easier decision.
Megan was brought back to reality once more. This time, it was her bowels and not her consciousness that stirred her. She rose and began walking back towards the house, only to have her bowels empty about halfway. Megan stopped and fretted. It was very disconcerting to her. After all, she practically never had a messing accident in her life. And yet, ever since putting on a diaper, her body had been cutting loose whenever it damn pleased. Maybe it knew something she didn’t.
“Ewww….gross!” she remarked, and stormed inside to change. Playtime was most definitely over.
Another thought crossed Megan’s mind and she just as soon wished she hadn’t opened this can of worms to begin with. What if wearing diapers all the time led to more accidents? She didn’t know if she could deal with constantly wetting and messing herself, or relying on someone else to change her. The thought of being out in public with a full load in her diaper was absolutely mortifying. Maybe it was time for her to rethink this experiment.
Rather than change right away, Megan opted to sit in her mess. It wasn’t pleasant and it sure as hell wasn’t comfortable, but as long as she was still considering diapers, she had to consider all that came with it. After awhile, Megan was ready to scrap the whole idea. She had wet again and her diapers were almost unbearably smelly and uncomfortable. She felt bored, isolated and inadequate. Being able to relax was one thing, being made helpless in a situation like this was something else entirely.
Megan showered and treated herself to a nice long bath. She was sure to triple-bag her dirty diaper and bury it deep at the bottom of the trash. After what she had just went through, another diaper was the last thing Megan wanted to wear. She remembered the deal she made with her parents and groaned. It wouldn’t be fair to them if she quit now. After all, they were going to great lengths to support something she wanted….or thought she wanted at any rate. Sighing, Megan diapered herself once more.
Nancy came home from work to find her daughter still diapered, but irritable and cranky. Megan refused many of her motherly overtures and was content to sit in a corner and sulk.
“You know,” Nancy remarked with a half-smile. “Little girls who don’t behave themselves might just have to be spanked.”
“Go ahead,” Megan sourly replied.
“Honey, what’s wrong? Things not working out the way you expected?”
Megan nodded.
“Helen said this might happen….”
“I know. And it was fun…. for a little bit. But now it’s like, ‘what the hell was I thinking?’”
“Forgive me for still being in the novelty phase,” said Nancy. “But I think it’s cute.”
“You’re not the one wearing a diaper, Mother.”
“Stop that,” Nancy snapped. Then, under her breath she added, “You’re sounding like Jess.”
“Sorry,” she replied blandly.
“It’s better that you found out now than later.”
“Yeah…I guess.”
“Things in life aren’t always going to turn out the way you want, Megan.”
“I know, Mom. I just wanted something…you know, for me.”
“And I’m sure you’ll find it. Someday.”
Megan wore her diapers for the rest of the day, as promised. She took some teasing from Stephen, who was glad to not have to be the baby of the family for once. Carrie tried to be supportive, but even she couldn’t help but laugh when she saw her big sister sucking on a paci and playing with toys she found in the attic.
There were moments, like the experience she had had outside, in which Megan was able to let herself go. Yet on the whole, she could not convince herself. She could never be a baby again or even a little girl; she would just be a college student playing the part. And once she got past thinking it was cute or exciting, she came to realize it was in many ways pathetic and sad. She should be looking forward, not back. Thought she felt like an old lady at times, she still realized that most of her life lay ahead of her. Her mother was right: someday she would find whatever it was she was looking for. However, it wouldn’t be today and it wouldn’t be diapers.
Diapered and lying in bed that night, Megan tried to remember the last time she felt ‘normal.’ She couldn’t. Even before she came home, there were restless nights and slight, but significant changes. On impulse, she reached for her journal and jotted down a quick entry.
I’m not going to worry anymore. What happens, happens. I’ll probably still wet the bed, but I don’t need to make a big deal out of it. And if I feel like sucking on my thumb every once in awhile, so what? I’m not the only person who does it. I don’t have to pretend. If I’m not gonna be really happy either way, I might as well be me. Besides, something might come along. Who knows? I didn’t expect this, but here I am…. diapers and all. It’s late and I’m tired. Nite-nite.
The End