Megan continued to chuckle at her sister’s attempts at supportiveness and sighed. All jokes aside, Carrie was probably right. She felt slightly guilty about not being able to tell her about her problem. After all, when Carrie got in trouble, it was often Megan whom she turned to first. Nonetheless, she was hesitant to repay the favor. She supposed her own desire for independence was making her stubborn and headstrong, just like Jess.
She was not, however, too stubborn to do what needed to be done. Megan removed the brief (she found it easier to think of them as briefs and not diapers) from her bag and unfolded it. An alien garment nothing like her siblings’ diapers that she had so often changed, it had four tapes as opposed to the conventional two. It was also almost entirely white, save for a blue stripe that ran down the center. The wetness indicator, Megan thought with sour veracity. She continued to explore the brief as if it were a newly discovered species. The inside was remarkably soft, the outside hard and plasticky. She wondered how it would feel on her skin. The brief carried with it a light scent of powder. Megan took comfort in knowing that if it did its job, at least she would not reek.
Lying on her back, she wiggled out of her panties and set them aside. Her mother had replaced her egg crate pad, for which she was thankful, but she still did not feel at ease. Drawing in a deep breath, she slid the diaper under her. It was much less obtrusive than she expected and actually felt quite inviting. Holding the front of the diaper in place with one hand, she reached for the tapes with the other. She taped up one side first and then the other. Before she knew it, she had successfully diapered herself.
Getting to sleep with the diaper on proved to be a challenge, as Meg was unaccustomed to having her legs forced apart and her butt supported by that much thickness. Eventually, after much tossing and turning, she flopped onto her belly and fell asleep.
Rising the next morning, Megan looked at her alarm clock and did a double take. It was only 8 but it felt like at least 10. She supposed she had slept well and smiled. All that remained was to see was if the diaper did its job. Megan rolled around her bed, expecting to come in contact with a wet spot, but there were none. She glanced down at the crotch of her diaper and noted that the blue line had vanished. Curiously, she patted the front of the undergarment. It was soft and pliable, nearly squishy. As a last resort, she peeked inside.
The inside of the brief was badly soaked and yellowed. Megan did not know how to feel. On the one hand, she did not like the fact that she had slept with her own urine trapped so close to her body. On the other hand, she had slept and her bed had been spared. Mission accomplished, she thought triumphantly.
With her mother’s footsteps quickly approaching, Megan ducked back under the covers.
“Megan?” Nancy asked. “Any better this morning?”
“Much,” the girl answered.
“I see your bed is dry. I guess the medication did its job.”
A”Yup,” she fibbed and hoped her mom would leave it at that.
B”Actually,” she corrected, slowly peeling back the covers.
“Actually,” she corrected, slowly peeling back the covers.
“Oh my,” Nancy gasped. She had proudly referred to Megan as the least troublesome of her children. While Carrie associated with unsavory new friends, Stephen had his share of trouble in school and Jessica practically disowned her, Megan was in college and doing quite well. Her recent bout of bedwetting was a bit surprising, but to see her nineteen-year-old daughter in diapers was an absolute shock. She tried not to let her astonishment show. Megan needed her now. She had to remain supportive. “Well…that’s one way of handling it…I suppose.”
Megan could see clearly that her mother was not OK with it. She lay back in bed, threw the sheets over her and pressed a pillow against her head.
“Megan…” Nancy said gently.
“What was I supposed to do?” she asked defensively. “I couldn’t go another day on the medication. I just couldn’t. And Dr. Hardy mentioned something about protection…”
“Megan, I’m not mad at you. If this is how you choose to handle it, fine. I trust your decision.”
Megan sat up slowly and breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks, Mom,” she said, pushing her hair out of her eyes.
“However, I do think it would be a good idea if you at least mentioned this to your father.”
“Why?”
“Because he has as much of a right to know what’s going on as I do.”
“Fine. Just don’t tell anyone else.”