Just In Case
“Wear it just in case.”
First, you heard it from your partner, but in time the sentence rang in your mind over and over. Before going to bed, lying down at night, and even sometimes during the day. “Just in case” was a sign for relief, but also stress. “Just in case” for what? Can’t you control yourself? Are you a toddler? “Just in case,” who said so? Not you. But now it's stuck in your head.
“Wear it just in case,” your partner said as the diaper package was ripped open on your bed. A thick white diaper was handed to you. It was soft and had a certain smell to it.
A week ago, you were telling your partner that you were tired of waking up a few times at night to pee, and sometimes you were actually rushing to the toilet, fearing you wouldn't make it. There were times you were so sleepy you fought yourself to get up. But the most difficult nights were the ones you dreamt about peeing. You remember one lucid dream where you were about to pee in the dream, but suddenly realized you were dreaming and screamed to yourself to wake up, not wanting to wet the bed.
“You’ll sleep better, and I’m sure you’ll stay dry, but just wear it, just in case.” The diaper crinkled under your grip as you considered what was said.
These days, most nights you were going to sleep diapered, especially when you had lots to drink before bed or when you were really tired.
“Did you get diapered?” “Want me to help you get on your diaper?” “Are you good for tonight?”
Those kinds of questions were being asked before bed. At first, you were a bit shy about it, but now it was just a part of the evening routine.
Lying in bed, your mind always wandered. Will you eventually wet yourself? Why are you wearing those if you’re always waking up to pee and waking up dry? Sometimes in the middle of the night, you woke up to the bathroom, but for a split second, you thought about just letting go in the diaper instead of leaving the cozy bed. But you won’t do it, you mustn’t. You won’t choose to wet yourself. Wetting your diaper consciously isn’t an option.
For more than a week, your partner brought you new kinds of diapers. Baby printed ones, with colorful prints on them. And they were thicker for sure.
They don’t seem like a solution to a medical or serious problem. The diapers look cute, comfy, and welcoming. After you wore one, you looked at yourself in the mirror, turning around, appreciating how cute it looked on you, and, weirdly, how cute you looked.
Those diapers are not bad, they are good. They are funny and playful. Nobody who wears this kind of diaper has a problem. These were your thoughts at night in bed. You fantasized about how they would look swollen and soaked.
The new diapers created a new fear. Wetting intentionally.
No, you didn’t want that, and you brushed those thoughts away as you fell asleep.
That night, you had your first dream about being a baby. Not a tiny baby acting as one. It was a lucid dream, and you saw yourself wearing the same diaper you saw in the mirror before going to bed. You knew it was just a dream, and that was your chance to see the cute diaper swell and grow big.
You released your bladder, half forgetting you were dreaming.
Finally letting go. Finally stepping into the diaper trap you desperately wanted to avoid. Enjoying the new feeling of warmth. Enjoying your new childish behaviour.
In the morning, you’ll wake up to a new surprise and to a new life.
