Like a Baby

Sarah stood in front of the mirror, her heart beating, her hands trembling. She looked at herself, a brown–haired girl with a white sweater and a denim skirt, with smallish breasts, narrow waist and round hips; a quite ordinary–looking girl of nineteen. Then she lifted her skirt and revealed her panties, and under them, the bulkiness of diapers. Sarah had been looking after her friend Anne’s two–year–old daughter for some time while Anne worked odd shifts at the hospital. Once, as Anne had showed her where the diapers were kept, Sarah had noticed another package. Anne had laughed, a little bit embarrassed, and said she had had some problems after giving birth, you know, leaking a little… Sarah had been conscious of the connection between peeing and sexuality for some time, and she had caught herself staring at little Emma’s obviously blissful expression as she stopped what she was doing to go in her nappies. So the desire to test it out grew in her until she finally decided to try. She had put Emma to bed, and then locked herself in the bathroom. She had decided to wear a skirt for convenience, and had pulled down her full–size panties and put on a diaper. She had put off peeing for some time, and was quite full now. She pressed her thighs together, feeling the added bulk between her legs. She turned around with her skirt up, looking at her padded bottom. Then she dropped the skirt and nothing was visible. Sarah stood straight, feet together, and loosened her muscles. She felt her crotch grow hot as her pee spread, hot and aroused. She stopped the flow and lifted her skirt: No damage. She touched herself and felt the added weight, then let go a little again. God, it felt good. She walked a few steps, letting the warm material rub her puss. With her hands on her breasts she let out a big stream, biting her lip as she waited for the sound of dripping. But the diapers held. The heat engulfed her crotch; she wanted to jam a hand down to her love button. But she put it off, unlocked the door and went into the kitchen. She drank a glass of water, then sat down at the table.
The soaked diaper pressed against her bottom. Would it hold more? She peed a long stream, drank more water, and then stood up to inspect. It seemed the advertisements were right, you could feel safe with a (whatever the brand was). Sarah tidied up Emma’s toys from the floor, occasionally stopping to let out a little pee. She was warm and heavy and not just a little dizzy from excitement. Finally she felt a small hot stream on the inside of her thigh and hurried into the bathroom to change. She removed the soaked diaper. Her panties were wet at the crotch, but still she was amazed at the amount of liquid it could hold. She decided that next time – Oh God yes, there would be a next time – she wouldn’t wait so long. She still had to pee, so she threw away the diaper, reminding herself to take it with her so Anne wouldn’t find out, and pulled up her panties. They were wet anyway. She stepped into the bathtub, stood with her feet apart and let go. She didn’t spill a drop on her skirt.
When Anne came home Sarah had to suppress a giggle at the thought of her panties being in her bag instead of on her.
The next time Sarah had put on her khaki pants. They were a little bulky anyway, and she found that they fit even better with diapers underneath. She had been to the toilet before she put Emma to bed, so this time there was no urgency. She fetched a Coke and sat down to watch TV. Soon she felt herself begin to fill up again. She sat with her knees slightly apart and concentrated on not keeping it in. But some part of her subconscious stopped her bladder from releasing it. She drank more and tried to watch the boring talk show. After half an hour she had reached the stage where she would use the bathroom, say, if she were going shopping. She leaned back, closed her eyes and thought of running water, and then a slow trickle warmed her crotch. She wriggled a little in her chair and changed channels, hitting on a film she knew. Soon she was absorbed in the plot, and registered a slight annoyance at having to get up and – Oh no, she didn’t have to get up. With her eyes fixed on the screen she peed in her diapers. When the film was finished she sat back and savored the feeling of warm wetness around her bottom. She was surprised it didn’t feel colder; obviously the body heat and the plastic cover helped to maintain the temperature.
Then she heard the key in the lock. Sarah ran to the bathroom – it was at the back of the house – and tore her pants down, removed the diaper and stuffed it down the bottom of the trashcan. She strove to get her breath back to normal as she went out to greet Anne.
Anne was twenty–eight and a single parent since her boyfriend had left her right after Emma was born. She was dark–haired and feminine with a little heaviness in her chest after nursing Emma, and her previously flat belly had acquired a very sensual bulge after giving birth. She hugged Sarah as she left.
Three days later Sarah was back. This time she was wearing a flowing ankle–length black skirt, and she put on a diaper as soon as she arrived. She was down on the floor playing with Emma, legs tucked under her when she felt the urge. Trying to keep her composure she relieved herself while conducting a serious conversation between two teddy bears. When Emma was sleeping she went to the toilet like a grown–up, then changed into dry diapers. She had looked at herself from all angles in the mirror and was certain nobody could see that she wore them. When Anne returned she felt a strong need to pee, so she fetched her bag, put on her jacket and left.
She walked through the September night with her skirt billowing and the now familiar padding of the diaper around her butt. She tried to pee while walking, but it wouldn’t come although the pressure was quite strong. She stopped and looked in a shop window with her legs crossed under her skirt, and it took only a slight relaxation to set the stream flowing. The heat engulfed her and her breathing was deep as she longed to touch herself. Before she was completely empty she went on, small squirts coming with every step.
A couple of weeks later Anne called to ask her to sit again. This was a Saturday, and Anne expected to finish work at about nine. “There is beer and wine in the fridge,” she said, “you can have whatever you want, and then we can spend some time together. It seems we always meet in the doorway.”
Sarah had kept on with her diaper experiments, and was growing bolder. Once she had worn them under quite tight Levi’s, and had squirted as Anne gave her the usual hug. This day she put on striped thick cotton tights and a short, tight, black knit miniskirt. She put her hair up in two pigtails and chose a red college sweater that covered the waistband of her skirt in case some plastic would show.
At Anne’s house she read a long bedtime story to Emma before she used the toilet, put her nappies on and settled down with a beer. She had started on the second can when Anne came home. Anne wore her customary black pants and a grey sweater. She looked at Sarah and smiled. “You look cute in that outfit. But you would not be served in a pub.”
“Thank you,” Sarah said, surprising both herself and Anne by doing a small girlish curtsy. The beer made Sarah light–headed and adventurous. Despite the difference in age she and Anne enjoyed each other’s company, talking openly of everything. As Sarah felt the familiar signal from her bladder she let it flow, still talking. She became aware she was sitting with her knees apart and quickly closed her legs. Her short skirt covered only two inches of her thighs as she was sitting, but she was confident that nothing showed. She put a hand on Anne’s arm and told a funny story from school.
Anne rubbed her cheeks, blushed from laughing. “I had better go pee before I have an accident,” she said, looking at Sarah. She rose and left for the bathroom.
Sarah opened another beer and let out a little pee. Quickly she put her hand up her skirt to feel the warm heaviness between her legs. She sat back with her feet crossed as Anne returned. Sarah told another story while Anne listened, looking a little distracted.
Anne drank from her can and looked at Sarah. Then she rose, motioning for Sarah to do the same. Sarah stood, a little unsteadily, with her ankles crossed, her short skirt revealing most of her tights–clad legs. Quickly Anne slipped her hand under Sarah’s sweater and under the waistband of both her skirt and tights. “What’s this,” she said, “is there a little girly who needs to change her nappies?”
Caught out Sarah blushed, and then burst into tears. Totally ashamed she held her face and cried even more as she felt her pee stream uncontrollably into her diaper. She pressed her legs together to no avail, the humiliating flow just kept on. Holding her crotch she ran to the bathroom. She sat on the floor, sobbing, as Anne knocked on the door. She didn’t wait for an answer, but entered quietly and sat down on the closed commode. Softly she reached out and stroked Sarah’s hair. Sarah sat with her legs curled up and her face hidden, shivering with each sob. “Come on,” Anne said. “It’s not that bad, is it?”
No reply.
“I’m not mad at you, Sarah.”
Only sobbing.
“I have known for some time.”
Sarah turned up her tear–stained face.
“I can’t blame you for wanting to try. And you liked it, didn’t you?”
She nodded weakly.
“I noticed the package was emptying faster than I was using them. You silly little girl, you could have asked.”
Sarah looked at Anne with a look of utter misery on her face. “I couldn’t.”
“Come here.” Anne held out her hand.
Sarah stumbled to her feet, tried to dry her face, and stood in front of Anne, who reached out for her waistband. ‘Let me help you.”
Sarah nodded weakly.
Anne lifted up her skirt and pulled down her tights and panties, then removed the sodden diaper. She soaked a washcloth and wiped her gently, then fetched a towel and dried her with soft touches. She looked at the sad girl standing with her pussy bared, went to the cupboard and returned with a new diaper. No, two! She fastened one on Sarah and adjusted her clothes, then pulled her own pants and panties down and put one on herself. Then she stroked Sarah’s cheek. “Cheer up, cutie. Let’s pop another beer.”
Sarah washed her face, smiled weakly at Anne and followed her back to the living room. Through her humiliation she was aware of the roundness of Anne’s bottom in front of her. They sat down, opened their cans and drank in silence. Then Anne reached out and pulled her closer. Sarah sat with Anne’s arm around her, beginning to feel more comfortable, and a little bit excited. After a while Anne bent closer: “Sarah, I’m peeing now.”
Sarah looked up at her friend, who smiled and squeezed her shoulder. Then she put her arm around Anne and buried her face in her neck. Feeling something very close to happiness she let her pee flow.
Aquarius