A new PC game was becoming very popular. The game was called World Simulator. Using it, you could create your own little world and watch it unfold before you, changing and affecting details when you like. You could even submit your world online and let people explore it.

Kaya sat at her computer, playing it. It wasn’t a school night, so the fourteen year old could spend as much time as she liked playing. Which was fortunate, because actually creating a world was actually extremely detailed. It asked all kinds of questions. Whether your world was stable or essentially collapsed on itself depended largely on how you answered these questions.

Some were fairly basic, how many days would her world have in a year? How many seasons (the game had more than the real life four)? What species were the people (for the furry and sci-fi crowds, Kaya supposed). What was your preferred starting population? Other questions were very specific and required some thought. What age did people live to? How long were children required to attend schools? What was the most commonly found hair and eye color among people? Kaya laughed out loud when she came across a question that actually asked what age children were toilet trained at.

Kaya couldn’t stop herself when she saw that the choices went as high as “never.” She set the age to eighteen. It was too hilarious to think that her eighteen year old jerk of a brother, if he lived in that world, would be wetting and soiling himself like a baby. Needing mommy and daddy’s help to reach the potty like a big boy. The instruction book that was included with the game suggested that first-timers make a world very close to the real one to more easily understand the various functions of the game. But, it’s just a game, one change isn’t going to be a big problem.

Kaya yawned wide. She looked at her clock and saw it was nearly 11:30 P.M.

Wow, she thought, I was up late. She usually got tired and went to bed around 10:30 at the latest.

Ah well, best hit the sack, then. She thought with another yawn.

She saved her progress and staggered a bit over to her bed. Falling more than laying down on top of the covers. In the last few moments before sleep took over, she giggled at a sudden realization.

If I lived in that world, I’d have to wear diapers, too.

With that, she drifted off to sleep.

When Kaya woke up the next morning, the clock read about 9:00 A.M. She was a bit alarmed (pun intended) but calmed down quickly enough when she realized it was Saturday. No school for her to worry about. She sat up and felt something extremely odd. She pulled back her covers and looked at herself. She seemed the same. Same shoulder length brown hair. Same pastel pink t-shirt and shorts. Same bare feet. Same diaper. Same cozy blanket on her bed.

Wait… what? Same diaper?

She stood up and pushed her shorts down a bit. Her eyes widened a bit in surprise when she saw it. Underneath her pink shorts was a diaper! Not only that, but it was almost entirely yellow in the front. She had wet herself in her sleep! She lowered her hand and touched it. It was a disposable, smooth with white (at one time) plastic in the front. It was fairly thick between her legs too. Clearly meant to last throughout the course of a full night. The diaper’s inside felt damp and clammy next to her skin. She had obviously put it to good use. But since when was she a bed wetter?

Why in the world am I wearing this thing?! She thought frantically as she looked around her room, suddenly wondering what else was different. For the most part everything was exactly the same as it had been last night when she went to bed. The only real major difference she had noticed was a changing table by one of the walls next to her computer desk. She pulled her shorts up and walked, more waddled really, over to examine it. It was more than long enough to suit her body. The table’s legs seemed to have an adjustable height, suggesting that the table had been around for a long time and lowered so that whoever changed the diapers could more easily do so for an older child.