Chapter Eighteen

“I’ll see you on Friday?” Vivian asked as she broke off from our kiss.

I made a short whining sound, “Friday? I thought I’d get to see you more often now that the semester is over.”

“You will,” Vivian replied, “but while the semester is over for you, I still having grading to do. But after this week, you’ll see a lot more of me, okay?”

I pouted, and Vivian laughed. “Don’t be like that,” she gently booped my nose with her finger, “I’ll make it up to you, I promise, okay?”

“Okaaayyy,” I dragged out the word while I clung to Vivian, “I’ll hold you to that.”

Vivian chuckled and hugged me, squeezing tightly. “Just one week, my little Lavender, and then we’ll have all summer together, okay?”

“Okay,” I replied, my voice muffled as I pressed my face to her chest.

“How about,” she spoke as she stroked my hair and held me close, “Friday you come over like usual, but instead of you going home on Saturday, we’ll leave bright and early Saturday morning for a week at a lake house, just you and me. Does that sound nice?”

I nodded my head vigorously and grinned, “that sounds really nice, Vivian.”

“Then it’s settled,” Vivian grabbed my shoulders and gently peeled me off of her, “but I have to go get work done so I can get all my grading finished this week, okay?”

“Okay,” I leaned forward and gave her a quick peck on the lips, “good luck.”

She let out a short laugh then sighed, “I’ll need it, it’s all the undergrad work I still have to grade.” Her sentence was punctuated by her phone chirping; she grabbed it from her purse and checked the notification, “my Lyft is here,” she explained, “but you,” she booped my noise again, “be good, okay? And I’ll see you on Friday for our vacation.”

We said our farewells and then I was closing the door behind Vivian.

A week without Vivian, and then a whole week with her.

A whole week to have accidents; a whole week to get her to put a diaper on you.

My cheeks flushed as I thought about having to pack pull-ups and diapers to take on our vacation. Would I pack diapers? It seemed like a bold choice.

You wouldn’t want to leak all over the beds at the rental house, now would you?

I definitely did not want to do that, but I was also capable of making sure I didn’t.

Not as far as Vivian knows; maybe she’ll want you to wear them.

I bit my lip. Would she?

There are ways you could make sure she does.

If I was brave enough for that…

You’ve been brave enough to piss your pants in front of her.

Brave wasn’t quite the word for that. I was drunk both times, and, besides, I never made the conscious choice to wet myself, I just…let nature take its course. But there’d be lots of opportunities for nature to take its course in a week.

I wandered into my room and into my closet, kneeling in front of my chest of secrets. I had a whole week before I had to worry about what I’d wear during my vacation with Vivian. But that was a whole week I had to myself—no Vivian, sadly, and no Elyse, thankfully. Not that I truly disliked Elyse, things were just a little awkward between us now that she knew Vivian and I were involved. But, of course, the real reason I was thankful for her absence is that it meant I had absolute privacy.

Opening my chest, I slid a pull-up out of its bag before pausing, looking longingly at the diapers. I regretted not trying to get Vivian to put me in one last night. Admittedly, it might have been a horrible idea, and I wasn’t sure I would have done anything differently given the chance, but I really, really wanted to give them an honest try. For a long moment, I sat on my heels in the middle of my closet debating between putting on a pull-up, a familiar and reliable choice, or making another attempt at diapering myself, a thrilling prospect but one that might go horribly wrong.

If you learn to do it yourself, you can wear them to bed at Vivian’s without having to convince her to put them on you.

I bit my lip; that was a good point. It wasn’t that I didn’t want Vivian to put them on me—no, I certainly wanted that—but I didn’t think I could ever work up the courage to ask her. Even just thinking about it made my whole body blush.

What if she offers?

Well, if she offers, then maybe that would be an entirely different matter. Maybe.

You’d let her.

Probably. Almost definitely.

Absolutely.

It didn’t matter whether I would or not because I was sure Vivian never would.

You were pretty sure Vivian wasn’t into you too. And a few months ago you would have said you were pretty sure you’d never wet yourself in front of Vivian.

Yeah, I get the point.

“Okay,” I said out loud, “no time like the present, I guess.” I stuffed the pull-up back in its bag and grabbed one of the diapers instead. Third time was the charm, right?

As I ran one of my hands along the plastic shell of the diaper, I couldn’t help but bite my lip in excitement and anticipation. And, yes, a little bit of arousal. The black plastic was softer than I thought it would be, but it crinkled deliciously. Reluctantly, I set the diaper aside and went back to my chest. Digging through the items inside, I selected one of my favorite onesies—a short-sleeved one with otters printed all over it—and a matching pacifier—decorated with beads and rhinestones with a little plastic otter in the center and the words “otterly adorable” spelled out on the handle—and a plain black pacifier clip. I considered grabbing my shortalls or tulle skirt to complete the ensemble, but decided just the onesie would do perfectly.

Selections in hand, I made my way back to my bedroom, pointedly not putting away my secrets simply because I didn’t have to. I set everything down on the bed and quickly shed my pajamas. My heart was in my throat and my hands were shaky with excitement.

You’ll get it right this time. This will be your second experience with diapers—your first real experience—and you’re going to get it right this time.

Picking up the diaper, I debated whether to try putting it on while laying down or standing up. I had seen tutorials for both and laying down had seemed easier, but that was what I had tried my first attempt and it hadn’t worked out very well. It made sense to try it standing up this time. I unfolded the diaper, relishing every crinkle it made, and fluffed it like so many tutorials had told me to do—apparently it made it softer and thicker and, perhaps most importantly, better able to absorb wetness. Then, after finding a good spot with an bit of empty wall for me to lean against, I lined the diaper up with my body and pressed my butt and back to the wall, holding it in place.

As soon as I pulled the rest of the diaper up and between my legs, I felt a wave of euphoria wash over me. The bulk of the diaper between my legs and the softness of the padding against my sensitive bits were all I could think of, and for a moment I just stood there appreciating these new sensations. They weren’t entirely new, of course; they were familiar from wearing pull-ups, but the diapers turned those sensations up to new intensities.

Finally, I took a deep breath and went to work.

Holding the front of the diaper to me with one hand, I grabbed the bottom left tab with the other and pulled the wing tightly around my hips, pressing the tape against the smooth plastic landing zone. Satisfied with the progress so far, I repeated the process with the bottom right tab.

Half-way there.

I took a moment to adjust the diaper to make sure it was placed properly, then went back to the left side, grabbing the top tape this time and drawing it tight across my lower stomach. Then the right side.

And done!

I stepped away from the wall and wiggled my hips and butt around. Remembering the advice from the countless tutorials I had read, I reached down and checked the guards around my leg—everything seemed good. In fact, everything seemed good. The diaper hugged my hips and butt perfectly, encasing me in crinkling softness. It did, however, feel a little loose, like it was sagging down a bit. I pulled it up so it fit me tightly and redid the top tapes one at a time, pulling them tight to keep the diaper in place.

Perfect.

And it was.

I reached down and gently rubbed the padding between my legs, pressing it against me and making it crinkle. A contented smile spread across my face; this was everything I had hoped it would be.

It wasn’t that the first time was awful, it had merely been disappointing. I had been dreaming about diapers for so long, and the poor job I had done on my first attempt simply didn’t line up with what my imagination had told me it would be. It had been ill-fitting and scratchy; it had felt loose and didn’t quite hug my body the way it did in my imagination—the way it did now.

I walked across my room, getting a feel for the diapers. They forced my legs apart and made me waddle in an unfamiliar but definitely not unpleasant way. Every step, every slight movement, caused crinkles to resonant through the silent room, and even that sound was wonderful to my ears.

After walking the length of my room a few times, I came back to my bed and picked up my onesie. I slipped it over my head and pulled it down my body. Snapping the buttons in the crotch together was a bit of a challenge at the best of times, but the added bulk of the diaper made for an extra challenge. Eventually, however, I managed to get them all snapped, and the stretchy fabric settled around my torso and the diaper. It pulled the diaper close to my body, pressing the padding into my skin, somehow enhancing an experience I wouldn’t have thought could be enhanced. I attached the pacifier clip to my pacifier, clipped it to the collar of my onesie, and popped the paci in my mouth, sucking softly almost on instinct alone. Finally, I grabbed Penelope off my bed, hugging her tight to my chest, and headed back into my closet to check myself out in the full-length mirror on the back of the door.

I almost squealed in happiness.

Gods, you look adorable.

I’d seen myself in onesies plenty of time. I’d seen myself sucking on pacifiers and hugging stuffies to my chest. But what I’d never seen—what I neglected to do my first time trying diapers—was me in a onesie with a paci in my mouth, a stuffie hugged to my chest, and the puffy bulge of a diaper around my waist. Sure, my pull-ups made the crotch of my onesies puff out a little bit, but it was nothing compared to the very obvious bulge of the diaper. I turned and twisted around so I could see my padded butt, the very edges of my black diaper peeking out of the legbands and giggled again.

It’s too bad you didn’t get Vivian to put you in one of these last night; even she’d be forced to admit how stunningly adorable you look.

I took one last long look at myself in the mirror and then went back to my chest and pulled out a pink sippy cup decorated with Disney princesses. I rarely got to use my sippy cups—I was afraid to use them lest I get caught cleaning them in the shared kitchen, but there was no way I was going to pass up the opportunity.

It was weird stepping out of my bedroom and into the common spaces of the apartment. Even though I knew I was alone, I felt a pang of anxiety as I crossed the threshold. But Elyse was still gone, I reminded myself, and would be for months.

Crinkling the whole way, I walked to the kitchen and filled my sippy cup with juice before making my way to the living room and plopping down on the couch. Before long, I was curled up on the couch with Penelope in my arms and watching cartoons, feeling absolutely blissed out. Every once in a while, I’d squirm around just a little or poke at my diaper, just to hear the crinkle—it made me grin every time.

I was absolutely, perfectly content; in that moment, all was right with the world.

More importantly, I knew then without a doubt that I would be packing diapers for Vivian and mine’s vacation.