Chapter 1 : How an accident turned into a disaster, or didn’t it?
Isabel sat in her last period class, watching the clock move so slowly it seemed that the day would never end. All she knew was that she really needed it to end so that she could go to the bathroom. The substitute teacher had flatly refused to let her go, even though she had pleaded that her situation was urgent. Isabel looked up at the old witch as the clock continued to sit dormant. She crossed her legs to ward off the pressure.
Finally, the period was over. Isabel had just enough time to dash into the one close washroom before her bus would leave. She raced down the hall to the door, and was nearly knocked to the floor by her own force as she ran into it; it was locked. A sign on the wall nearby read, “Rest Room Out of Order.”
Isabel shot a glance at the clock in the hall; there was no way that she would ever make it to the other girls’ room in time. She would just have to hold it until she got home. On the way home, Isabel sat in her seat on the bus squirming, trying not to think about the pressure that was constantly on her mind (and in her bladder). Only a little bit more to go, and she would be home. Just a few minutes longer, just after this next–
The bus slowed down suddenly in a place it did not usually stop. It came to a rest, still miles from her door, and Isabel looked out at the line of stopped cars ahead of her, knowing instantly that she was in big trouble. An accident had stalled traffic for a mile, and the bus, along with all of the other vehicles, had to crawl past it in a single lane. Isabel crossed her legs and pressed them together, praying that there would only be one accident on this road this afternoon.
By the time she got to her stop, Isabel was indeed in desperate condition. She knew as soon as she got up and uncrossed her legs that it would be a miracle if she made it home. She flew out the door and began to run as fast as she could toward her house, feeling the pressure build with every step. About half way to the door, she lost control and wet herself completely.
Isabel stopped running, devastated by what had happened. She had not wet herself since she was a small child, and now, 15 years old, she stood in the street near her home in a soaking wet pair of pants. Her bladder deflated itself completely, and Isabel slowly finished her sodden trip to her door.
When she got into the house, she found her mother in an awful mood. She had been fighting with Isabel’s little sister, Christina. Christina was five and had recently had some recurring control problems, and her mother had apparently been cleaning up some puddles. When she saw Isabel walk in with wet pants, there was no reasoning with her.
“I don’t believe this!” she screamed. “It isn’t bad enough that I have to clean up one baby; now I have to deal with two!” Isabel tried to explain, but her mother would have none of it. “Get to your room right now, young lady, and take off those wet things. I just put your sister back in diapers for wetting herself, and the same thing is going to happen to you.”
Her mother slammed the door as she walked away, leaving Isabel alone at the foot of the stairs. Stunned, she turned and climbed to her room. When Isabel had taken off her wet clothes and thrown them into the hamper, her mother walked in. She was carrying several thick cloth diapers and a pair of Christina’s plastic panties. Isabel protested, but her mother was determined. With skilled hands, she pinned the diapers onto her oldest daughter and pulled up the panties. Christina wore a very large size and Isabel was pretty slim; the panties fit her well.
“You will wear these for the evening as punishment for wetting your pants,” her mother said. “And don’t you dare touch them. If I think you have tried to take them off, you will wear them to school tomorrow with a very short skirt so everyone will know.” And, handing her a little pink shirt, added, “And put this on before you get cold.” Isabel was left alone in her diapers. They felt odd to her, both foreign and somehow familiar, uncomfortable yet oddly comforting. She was not sure she liked the feeling, but she was not sure she hated it either. But she did know that she was not going to wet them. After a couple of hours, though, Isabel was jumping up and down trying not to go. Finally, she gave in to the inevitable and sat down to wet the diapers. Isabel stood in front of her mirror, looking at the figure before her: a child with a face like hers, but clearly much younger, a little girl in a pink shirt and in obviously wet diapers. Slowly she focused on the dark area in the crotch where the wetness was. When she concentrated, she found she did not dislike the feeling; it was warm and satisfying. She reached her hand down to touch the wet spot, and felt a pleasant sensation she had never felt before. Slowly, she began to rub herself there, and the feeling became even more pleasurable.
Soon she was experiencing the first orgasm of her young life.
Sometime later her mother called her to come to dinner. It was only then that Isabel realised that she would have to confront the whole family with her wet diaper. She felt terrible ashamed but at the same time filled With a feeling of trepidation. She was sure that little Christina after the inicial surprise would feel close to her and even 7 year old David wouldn’t be to bad. But how would Emily react? Emily was 12 years old and lately had been rather unpleasant. Emily had had some fits of jealousy for the small privileges that her older sister had because of her age. For instance the fact that Isabel had her own room while she had to share hers With Christina. Now this would be her great revenge. Definitely Isabel didn’t want her sister to see her in wet diapers.
Thinking fast it occurred to Isabel that if she put on clothes nobody would probably notice. But tight jeans wouldn’t do the job. Even if she would fit into them, her patted bottom would be clearly showing. Hurriedly she put on one of the few dresses she owned. It was quiet shorter than she expected but still, looking in the mirror, she was reassured that if she moved carefully nobody could see a thing. She hurried downstairs since her mother was calling already for the second time. When she entered the kitchen she got a brief look from her mother but nothing was said. During dinner Isabel hardly took notice of what was happening around her. She felt oddly happy sitting there with her pretty summerdress and feeling the comfortable wet diapers between her legs. After dinner she and Emily cleared the table as was customary. Little Christina was playing on the floor. Isabel, still completely absorbed by her feelings, didn’t realise Christina was playing right beneath her until the small girl happily shrieked out, “Isabel is wearing Christina’s plastic panties!” To Isabel it seemed as if the world stopped, and before she could react her mother answered quietly “Of course, little girls who wet their pants have to wear diapers.” Isabel tried to pull down her skirt but it was too late, Emily had already lifted it. There she was, blushing all over, standing in front of the whole family in wet diapers. Just a few seconds, then she leaped out of the kitchen up to her room.
Later, as she lay in the dark of her room, her mother came in carrying more diapers. She spoke to her as if she were a little baby. “Does mommy’s little girl need changing?” she asked as she turned on the light. “We don’t want to get a diaper rash, do we?” She slipped her hand into the crotch of the panties. Finding them wet, she slipped them off, cooing at her daughter in a babyish tone. She unpinned the diapers and dropped them onto the floor. Lifting Isabel’s legs, she slid another bunch of diapers beneath her, applied some babypowder and pinned them on.
“Good night, sweetheart,” she said but before leaving the room issued a new warning: “Now you take care not to wet those diapers because otherwise you will wear them to school under a short skirt as I told you this afternoon.” Then she left the room with the wet diapers and turned out the lights.
Isabel lay on her bed, and realised that she missed the feeling of the warm, wet diapers between her legs. After thinking about it for only a moment, she strained just a bit and soaked the new ones as she had done earlier. Then she rolled over and went to sleep.
In the morning, as always her mother came into the room to wake her. Having slept profoundly it took Isabel a few seconds to realise what the strange thing was between her legs, and to remember her mothers warning. As her mother was opening the curtains she didn’t dare to come out of bed. On her mother asking if she didn’t feel well she, blushing, stammered that she felt fine. Her mother seemed to hesitate for a moment, but then left the room without further comments.
Isabel jumped out of bed and quickly started tearing down the plastic pants and unpinning the soaked diaper. In all her nervousness it took some time. Just as the diaper dropped to the floor her mother came back into the room. It was obvious that she had immediately guessed what had happened and even anticipated it, because she was now prepared to execute her warning, “Listen darling, if you insist on behaving as a baby I have no other option than to treat you as such. But I’m not going to have you wear a bulging cloth diaper. I bought disposable diaperpanties. You’ll see they are very comfortable and… safe.” With this she took Isabel by the hand to lead her to the bathroom where she washed her and put on the disposable diapers. This job done she ordered Isabel to her room assuring her that she would be with her in a moment.
As Isabel was standing before the mirror back in her room, she thought that those diaperpants felt indeed very comfortable and looked cute. Furthermore she was relieved that her mother had not insisted on putting on the bulky cotton diapers of the day before. She could even wear her denim trousers, nobody would notice. But then she remembered that her mother had spoken of a short skirt. She hoped that her mother had forgotten this part, but also remembered how good she had felt the evening before with her short dress. She realised that part of the pleasure had been caused by the risk of being discovered. She had secretly hoped they would. Now did this apply to her schoolfriends too? Certainly not! Upon this thought Isabel came back into the real world. It was certainly high time to start dressing. What was her mother up too? Isabel put on a white T-shirt and took a pair of jeans out of her wardrobe. At this moment her mother and Christina came into the room. Christina was all excited. She jumped into the arms of her older sister and whispered in her ear ” I too go to school with diapers.” Before Isabel had time to answer her mother interfered. “Here Isabel I found this pretty dress for you”. Isabel immediately recognised the pale blue summer dress that Emily had worn two summers ago. It was one of those jumperdresses that consists of a short skirt with an elastic waistband and an apronlike frontpiece with broad braces crossing in the back. The skirt had two sewn up pockets in the front each decorated with a bright coloured fruit. The left pocket had a red apple and the right one a green pear. “Mom, you can’t be serious!” she cried out, but at that moment David called his mother. So leaving the room Martha calmly told her oldest daughter “You try that dress Isabel as I tell you. Put it right over your shirt and you’ll see how nice it looks on you. And that’s an order”.
Knowing that it wouldn’t be very prudent to disobey, Isabel decided to try on the dress, assuming that it wouldn’t fit any way. A few moments later she was looking at herself in the mirror once more. She was overcome by a strange sensation. Just like last night she looked at her proper face but saw a much younger girl. The dress which original design was to cover half the upper legs of a 10-year-old revealed almost completely her long legs, barely covering her diaper. Isabel could hardly believe that her sister had been wearing such a childish dress just two years ago. She felt terrible at the thought that she would be forced to go to school wearing this outfit, but at the same time she felt all excited and she was aroused by some strange happiness she didn’t understand. But even less understandable was the urge to wet her diaper right there. Just a few moments before Isabel had been pretty much decided to hold out all day to stop this humiliating condition, and now she let go, feeling the wetness slowly spreading between her legs and enjoying it.
But then she dropped to her knees, crying with large sobs, not knowing if she was desperate or happy. Little Christina who had been there all the time, put her arms around her and tried to console her: “Isabel, please don’t cry. Don’t you like the dress? Look I have the same. You look very pretty, Isabel.” Controlling her sobs, Isabel kissed her little sister, and looking at her realised that indeed, Christina was wearing a similar dress. “Thank you Chrissie. I do like the dress. We are two very pretty babygirls”. With this she put on a pair of white socks as her little sister wore those too, looked a last time in the mirror and decided to confront Emily and the rest of the world.
When she came into the kitchen she saw that Emily and her mother exchanged a quick glance, and then both of them complemented her on how nice she looked. Isabel went to her mother and whispered in her ear that she had wet her diaper again. Martha sighted deeply but took her by the hand to lead her to the bathroom to have her once more washed, powdered and diapered. By that time of course it was high time to hurry to the bus. David attending another school had already left with a neighbour so the 3 girls left together. Christina had taken the hand of Isabel. She had sensed the anxiety of her sister and wanted to comfort her. Isabel indeed was very anxious about the reactions at school. Not only would the very childish dress draw attention but also Isabel knew it would be impossible to hide the diaper. The dress was so short that when she sat down a large part of the diaper was visible. Suddenly she thought she would tell everybody that she did it to comfort her little sister whom, because of a recurring controlproblem had to wear diapers. With this solution in mind she calmed down and enjoyed the feeling of the comfortable diaper between her legs. She even felt real happy wearing the little dress that she thought looked cute on her.
Martha was watching her 3 daughters walking to the bus and felt proud and happy, but at the same time preoccupied because she realised that this was not going to pass immediately. And indeed at the age of 15, Isabel suddenly had developed a control problem