E - Escape

We just celebrated the beginning of the year of our Lord 2008. “I Kissed a Girl” by Katy Perry would loop in the radio, smoking in French restaurants would become prohibited, Beijing would host the summer olympic games and little Daisy would soon turn 13.

The end of the year festivities had lifted my spirit. I always cherished this atmosphere. It’s cold outside ? Woollen gloves would get out of that drawer that is opened only 4 months a year and, as soon as you arrive somewhere warm, one would take it off finger by finger just like the “ladies” seen on television. The night falls early ? Sun is replaced by a dozen fairy lights in the garden and around the windows. My mother had to establish turns of “who is switching the lights on today”. I might well be the oldest, I was not always the most mature…

For Christmas eve, my father would come back home. It was the second year since the separation of my parents. It would take about an hour for him to find his feet back again but soon the festivities would prevail. Christmas truce would last until the day after when goodbyes were a bit strenuous.
That magical chapter was closed. Christmas decorations had been relegated to the garage. Reality bluntly called us back to order.

The New Year’s feast was scarcely digested, I already had to go back to middle school. My sister finished the last diaper pack in September, right after the start of the autumn term. As there was no reason to find diapers in the house anymore, I stopped stealing from the supermarket. I weaned myself off as best as I could, without making a success of muffling the appeal that still stirred inside me. 

That Wednesday of January, I was down in the dumps. I went to the supermarket with the resolute intention of buying a girly magazine and sour candies. I got those items however, instead of taking me to the nearest exit, my legs gently brought me to the “babies products” section. I found my first flirt again at the very same spot. Standing with cluttered hands and my dance bag weighing on my shoulder I stared at them and suddenly, I wanted to cry.

- Stop it, thought I.

It was stupid. I was a big girl. Big girls do not cry for nothing standing in the middle of a supermarket’s aisle. I looked away in order to pull myself together. My eyes randomly fell on a Pampers Baby Dry pack. The front face showed a little drawing of a diaper with tapes, the ones that had tempted me for a while. There was also a very visible “8” in its green circle. 8 years old? The Drynites diapers that my sister wore were supposed to be used until 7 years old and it more or less fitted me. An extra year and more possibilities of tweaks thanks to the tapes should offer me a comfort bonus. I did not want to cry anymore.

My grand-parents had given me a bit of cash for Christmas, so I could afford the pack. The trickiest part would be to hide it ; all those diapers were bulky. It should not only have to fit in my dance bag but also find a place in my bedroom far away from my mother’s eyes and my sister’s curious nose. My brain was at full capacity searching for solutions before being abruptly interrupted. It gazed through my pupils, helpless, to my body catching the pack of diapers and heading to the checkouts. The only thing left to do for him was to deplore the youth lack of care about consequences.

Back home, I directly climbed the stairs to my bedroom while my mother and my sister were preparing dinner. I had little time. Shaggy would help me. Shaggy was the teddy bear with a zip on his back. The creators’ idea was for the organised children to be able to put their pyjamas or stuffed toys inside. That was without thinking about the ABDL of this world who crave for hidey-holes.

I took everything out except for a comfort blanket not used for a good while. Half of the diaper pack could be wrapped in before being swallowed by Shaggy. Good job, mate ! The other half would be hidden in the bathroom. It was risky but it would be the first half to disappear. The washing machine was embedded under a wooden surface. Between the back of it and the wall, there was some space. I put the rest of the diapers in a bag we used for beach days and I stuck it behind. Mission accomplished. Disengagement. Next step : eating a nice meal with a tremendous smile.

The first Pampers would be tried on the very same night. I was just as happy as a few weeks earlier when time came to open the gifts under the tree. I catch a diaper in the beach bag that I carefully put back in place and… I go blank. What on earth ?! It is so tiny ! I was so much in a haste previously that I went past that data. Now that we were face to face, the detail was striking. I opened it and laid on. I fastened it rather clumsily. Tapes on which I had to force were wonky and the upper part of my butt was not 100% covered. In order to adjust it, I caught the crotch. The soft sound, the sensation, the new thickness… I was marvelled. In the euphoria, I let my bladder go just like I did it in the Huggies. Same sound, same warmth… and soon way too much liquid for such a small and crooked diaper to handle. Urine was running on my legs and would form a little puddle at my feet. I was shattered. I took the diaper off, I rinsed myself in the shower and wiped the floor with a sponge. When evidences were cleaned off, I took another diaper. I put it a little bit better that time, even if any ABDL with a sense of self-esteem would have make a pout. I would learn.

I went to bed fulfilled. Indeed, everything was not perfect. Example given : I had to figure out how to contain a liquid that was a bit too keen on escaping. I hold no grudges against it. I only had to convince it that, for it and for me, diapers could be an escape.