DrEamScApe

A rehash of a short story that I came up with that somehow ended up being quite long. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Also, PLEASE leave comments, even anonymous ones! I'm a feedback whore, trust.

Also, contains very strong language and is a bit dark. Dark is always fun though, right?

Is This, You Know, Real?

*BANG!* I bolted upright in my bed, my head spinning as it frantically tried to wake up. Light tore painfully into my eyes like daggers as my back arched through the hot, sweaty duvets. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t see, I couldn’t even hear my own hell, and as I twisted and turned, I felt as if I was drowning in my own claustrophobic clusterfuck of quilts.

If I could shout, I’d be screaming madly for some kind of mental reassurance! What the fuck is going on!?

As my heart pounded, the world around me began to focus; the pale pink canvas of my dimly lit bedroom spiraling into view.

Then I sighed. Oh, well fuck! Another bloody fucking nightmare! A reoccurring terror of dreamlike insanity that had recently developed a grip on my soul! One by fucking one, the every single damn thing that reminded me of my innocence was being violently stripped from me. One by one I’d grown to fear everything about my youth. It sounds fucking pathetic, but tonight my cuddly toys scared the shit out of me… Tonight marked the moment where I could have nothing back…

Reflection

I stared skyward for the best part of ten seconds, recovering from yet another mental firefight involving torturous dreaming, pillowcase monsters and button nosed creatures, before finally turning to face the things that had been the reason for my distress. Turning, in fact, face-to-face with a big brown cuddly bear.

“AGGGHH!!!”

...

I was lying in bed, imagining the movements that tricked my mind into keeping me awake. I’d see a shadow climb the bedside, a pair of white eyes blink at me from under the desk, a haunting figure sitting on top of the cupboard, always staring like the Mona fucking Lisa directly at me. My room was alive with movement and yet I could see nothing.

I was sitting, legs firmly crossed, staring down a long, ominous corridor. Shelves upon shelves of soft toys racked high on both sides of me onto an infinite abyss of nothingness. It was like staring into a tunnel. I couldn’t even see the presumed light at the end of it. I didn’t want to move, but I felt like I had to run. Run fast, and run now! As the silence suddenly broke with activity, I realized this urge and reacted. I quickly stammered to my feet, kicking off my slippers as I bolted into the darkness. The dead nothingness all around me re-awoke from its slumber, and I was suddenly being followed.

I never made It to the end: As I ran, figures emerged through the holes in the shelves, each getting closer than the last until I was kicked in the shin by a furry lump, sending me crashing to the floor. As I connected with the ground, I fell through it.

I was lying in bed, the clearly lit figures of my own soft toys staring back at me. The light made it look like the toys were smiling. In fact, I think they actually were. As suddenly as I arrived, I fell into darkness once more.

*Bang!*

Awakening

The motionless faces of the army that stood at my bedside were identical to those in my nightmare. I took comfort in the fact that I was awake now, away from gross miscommunications between imagination and reality, away from the horrors that presented themselves to me so vividly only a moment earlier.

People would think I was mad, if I said I had a nightmare about cuddly fucking toys. Imagine! Could I be called sane if I told them I had nightmares about baby clothes and pacifiers? About prison-like cribs and fucking baby diapers? About music boxes and giggling baby girls?
No. But I have. I do. I probably will still! The cute, lovable symbols of my childhood were slowly dying, night after night, transforming from an object of peace and security into one that I dreaded to see in a dark place.

I closed my eyes… What the fuck is wrong with me?
And then I opened them again.

“AGHHHHHH!!!”

My nightmare returned like a fucking thunderstorm, taking with it any sort of sanity that I’d managed to hold onto. The worst part? This did not feel like a dream!

A hoard of fluffy animals pawed towards me, itching over the duvets with faces ice cold; expressionless. I wanted to run, but I was frozen to the core. I need to wake up!

But I didn’t… I didn’t wake up again… I was here, alive, awake in the real reality, and I don’t even have the comfort of a painless pinch, or a broken torch… In fact, there was no indication that I was still dreaming because I was not dreaming! This cycle of shit was as alive as my beating heart! Soft hands began to touch my leg, porcelain dolls reaching for my hair, a large pink teddy bear wrapping its arms around my face! I screamed - the echo’s flooding my ears as I could only hear. This scared me even more!
And suddenly I no longer had control. The surprising weight of my own playthings had me held down, and I could only guess as to what they were doing. My heart felt like it was beating outside of me, and for a split second I couldn’t even fathom my exterior body. Everything was focused inside my own head, as I felt myself trapped in my own state of despair. A panic attack, multiplied by pure fantasy and a curiosity that I couldn’t handle. I was being pushed deeper into my own existence, until I fell unconscious. The worst part…? I woke up AGAIN.

Reality?

I stirred from a slow slumber, itching to my right to lean on my shoulder. My mind was playing fucking inception with my dreams! My bum was aching, my groin hot, and my chest uncomfortable. The dull morning light found its way into my eyes, and it hurt like a bitch. Blinking a few times, I rubbed away the pain and shook my head. This has to stop. I’m booking a psychiatrist first thing. A dream within three other dreams? The fuck is wrong with me!?
Grabbing at the covers allowed me to sit up, and as I did I felt the first sign of something physically wrong. My bum was really sore. No… NOT like that, but I felt like I’d sat on a wooden chair all night. The nightmare had been a repeat though; nothing more than a wild flight of the imagination, nothing to be seriously worried over. It’s like seeing a horror movie for a second time; it doesn’t have the same effect afterwards. I could wake up like I did just now without a care in the world. The nightmare only seems real when you’re asleep…

Which is why I ignored the ache in my backside, and rolled over to clamber out of bed. As my thighs brushed together, however, I have to admit I didn’t feel right. As you can imagine, I found something terribly wrong under the quilt. I found something only found in nightmares. More specifically, in MY nightmares! As I pinched myself, I found something very very real!

“FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK!!!…”

I jumped out of bed with a speed that could challenge Usain Bolt, sprinting at the mirror like it was made of gold. When I reached it, everything physical and emotional inside me dropped like I’d just been shot in the heart. I lay in my own pink bedroom, on a standard sweaty Tuesday morning, a single, thick, pink lined adult diaper taped snugly between my legs - out of place completely… yet it fit. It formed itself around me like a hugging blanket, molded to my form as if it was sculpted… or tailored, to my shape. It felt like it was getting tighter around me. I could hear my breathing increase, my heart pounding, and all I could do for that moment was stare at the thing that was holding my very adulthood in its infantile, padded grasp, clinching to me like it needed me… Or I needed it.

As that realization hit home, I felt the very fiber of by being spin out of control. I questioned my sanity on that cold carpeted floor. Just when I thought I had no other surprises, I realized the second horrific truth. I was not wearing a dry diaper. FUCK! Would they not even allow me that comfort!? Incontinence! Me?! Seriously?!

I found function in my limbs, and in response I undressed faster than I thought possible, finding the nightie I’d been wearing to bed neatly folded on the top shelf of my cupboard, adding to the supernatural fear that had begun in my bedroom. I reached up for it, stretching on my tiptoes like a toddler going for a fucking cookie jar, and as I grabbed at it I felt smaller than I had since my growth spurt a fair few years ago. My fingers pinched it, and I pulled it down, quickly unfolding it and holding it against my soft frame for a moment: The symbol of adulthood, something I could not wait to buy when I was younger… stolen from me during the night by someone… or something! It was physically stripped from me just as my dignity was mentally stolen, forced out in some hideous joke. I was shaken by this experience. Fucking shaken…

...

And as I lived out the rest of that day of my life, I held onto that fear. It screwed its way into my head, a permanent reminder of the supernatural disaster that held me as its victim. I could not function, I could not eat, and as I learned when I tried to settle back into bed… I could not sleep.

Acceptance

Eventually though, fatigue took its unwavering grasp on my subconscious as I soon found myself falling back into darkness: Through the gates of hell I fell and when I hit the hot, dark ground it hurt like a fucking bitch. My head sizzled behind a throbbing sensation, and just as I was able to think past it, I was hit by a whole new mindfuck.

Another nightmare, another horrific morning, and most importantly another step in the direction of insanity. Held in a diaper, sweat and piss covering various parts of my body, and sickened to the core, I had woken up in a wet mess… and desperate for answers. This can’t be real, how the fuck can it be?

...

Needless to say I could never fathom an answer at that time… I briefly thought that I was doing it to myself- sleepwalking or something, until I confirmed the fact that I didn’t own diapers. Not even an asleep me could buy diapers… right?

Regardless of my anguished musings, the adventure of that Tuesday morning was the first of many. It became a normal routine faster than remembering to brush my teeth. I’d fall asleep, have a nightmare about baby things, and wake up in a wet diaper and occasionally, you know, for a joke, a training bra! I felt like that girl from Paranormal Activity, haunted in the night. Honestly, inspired by that film, I even tried filming it, but my camera fucking blacks out as soon as I fall asleep. When it turns back on, I’m wearing a diaper… And more scared than ever…

One part of this whole experience that I find truly terrifying is the attitude of the nightmare monsters. The first day I lived out my own version of paranormal activity and tried to film the experience, I woke up with a pacifier in my mouth. The second day I tried to record, I awoke with a bonnet on my head, almost as if I was being punished - or humiliated - for attempting to find it out. Despite knowing nothing about my tormentors, I knew immediately that any attempt I made to change anything would be met with a harsh punishment. After that, my once rational grasp on reality began to shake apart, and I began questioning everything.

…

One evening, after being reminded of my nightmares one too many times by the soft toys still occupying my bedroom, I decided to clean out my house of them. They ended up in the shed, and knowing that gave me some relief. It’s quite remarkable how one half-interesting act could provoke such a response, but at the end of the day, if I didn’t do this… I would never have found out…

Revolt

I woke up so fast it almost looked like I’d been electrocuted! I was cold, my body ached all over, and I was shivering violently. The dimly lit room was filled with a vile stink, one that made me blush furiously the moment I involuntarily inhaled. I had already automatically slipped my right hand between my thighs, prodding my crotch to check the results of my nightmare, and as usual, my mood plummeted as soon as I felt and heard the wet squish. A few drops of my own pee tickled down my crotch under my diaper, making it itch slightly, squeezed out of the soaked padding by the shuffle of my thighs. That sensation told me I didn’t hold back last night. Fucking soaked, urgh.

What wasn’t usual was how clammy my diaper felt, and as my fingertips began to trace around the lining for leaks I found myself pressing my palm against a thicker than usual bit of padding around my bum.

Was I given a new kind of diaper tonight? It happened sometimes: My supernatural tormentor would decide that I wasn’t suitable for the underwear they put me in, and so they would up the stakes with louder, clammier, more difficult to undo diapers every so often. It had the effect of making me feel like I was getting un-potty-trained, moving backwards from panties to progressively more protective underwear, but I suppose that was the point. If these were new diapers, then the heightened discomfort and thicker padding was something I’d just have to get used to. I bet they even feature cartoons.

For some reason, my stupid eyes just couldn’t get used to the low level of light in my room, and I could still see nothing. Maybe I pulled the curtains too far?

And then I made the mistake of sitting up…

I got half way. As I lifted myself into a sitting position and my full weight shifted onto my bum, I felt a large mass squish directly between my legs, expanding my diaper outwards in all directions as the awfulness inside wanted to make its presence known. I couldn’t say from any experience, but I knew exactly what I’d done.

“OH MY GOD!” I screamed loudly, trying to jump up and out of my duvet in a memorized movement, only to have my legs get pressed into some kind of thick sleeve. With a shiver-inducing squelch from my backside I rolled over, both my hands and legs wrapped in a cuddly cocoon that felt much more like a sleeping bag than a duvet.

And then I realized I wasn’t in my room! “WHY AM I IN THE SHED!?” I screamed, forcefully pushing myself out of the bag and standing up. The freezing, rough wood surface of the shed floor made my feet hurt immediately, and my fear in the darkness was making breathing difficult!

I backed into a wall, banging my head hard on a shovel I keep there. I cried out, my bum pressing into the wall with another squelch. I felt tears streaming down my face as I searched with my hands for the door. When I traced the lock with my thumb and pushed, the definitive lack of movement made my insides sink! “I CAN’T BE TRAPPED IN MY OWN FUCKING SHED!” I screamed, grabbing the shovel and pummeling it at the door with deafening cracks!

I was clamped in hot, thick, wet, sticky fucking diapers and every time I attacked the door blocking me from my own home I was met by a new horrible squishy sensation and mind-numbing shame! Finally though, eventually, I suddenly fell through as it almost magically unlocked.

At that moment I couldn’t think! My entire focus was on cleaning myself up! I hit the garden at a sprint, praying in vain that I’d left my backdoor unlocked as I slammed into it.

“My spare!” I whispered frantically to myself, running back across the garden to the fence gate, hesitating only for a moment before deciding it was worth the embarrassment. If I woke anyone up with breaking my own shed down, the time it’ll take them to come check is enough for me to hide!

I needed to make my way around seven terrace houses before this back lane opens out to the main road, and in retrospect hiding my spare key in my front garden was fucking stupid. I felt a sting in my toe as I turned a gravelly corner, completely aware that a large sticky mess was squelching its way around my backside with every step. The diaper was as loud as my breathing, and as I hit the pavement on my street, I sighed like a maniac when I found it bare. I ran around in front of my house in tears, digging into the plant pot to get the key.

*BANG* I hit the hallway wall so hard that I fell against the wall on the opposite side! Even on the floor, I pummeled and pushed against everything I could hold onto just to get to the bathroom that bit quicker! I hit the shower at a run, and stayed there for two solid hours!

…

By the time I’d cleaned myself up, I’d lost all hope of ever having a shred of confidence left in me. It was the day I messed myself for the first time in at least eighteen years, and it was the first time I’d ever been outside in a diaper. In just a diaper… A messy one.

I actually feared that I’d never be able to use a loo again. I feared full incontinence, the most real humiliation I’ve ever been able to fathom! I feared that the filth that was spread around my bum was the result of a physical breakdown; a shock-induced reaction to a situation that was dominating the struggle with my mental stability! I had fucking messed myself last night and ended up in my own shed! I wasn’t even awake! Fuck!

…

That morning I learned what fear really is, and at the same moment, it suddenly became entirely simple. Laughably obvious. Relief is a word I wouldn’t usually use for this situation, especially not on that morning, but in a sense, it was true! My tormentors were my cuddly toys! The nightmares that I knew could NOT be real were fucking with me in the one place nightmares should not reach… My fluffy fucking bear, my collection of Barbie dolls, my cotton Smurfs... They were angry at me for locking them in the shed! But the logic behind that didn’t matter. Now I knew who it was, I began to feel a little more relieved; like a detective knowing the perpetrator.

I was actually relieved, hours after the most horrible morning of my life.

…

But then the fear hit. Believe me when I tell you that I am afraid of my soft toys. For the entire day I debated whether or not to bring them back inside from the shed where I put them, and to be honest, the only reason I didn’t was because I was scared to go near them.

Waking up the next morning in the exact same place and in the exact same state was all the hint I needed to change my mind. I grabbed the bag and dumped them out into the spare bedroom. The messing stopped, but when I woke up the next morning in the spare bedroom with them, I realized they’d need to come all the way back. At least I can wake up in my own bed…

…

What could I do? I couldn’t go for help; they’d lock me up for being insane. I was trapped in a cycle of bedtime wettings and forced changings, with the occasional punishment if I did anything bad to the toys, with absolutely no idea what to make of the situation. That is, of course….

Until I found my chainsaw.

Change

I must have looked like a fucking nut case, standing in my back garden, chainsaw in hand, wearing nothing but a thin pajama top and a soaked morning diaper. Not that I cared. Before me lay a small collection of childhood memories, collected throughout my youth and once cherished. Remembrances of a joyful past, about to get torn apart with a petrol powered fury of slashes, swipes and sweat. Before me they lay, lit in a furious haze of black smoke, the pre-chainsaw torching fire licking at them furiously. I woke up the entire street as my chainsaw came to life, its roar mirroring my pure hate as I laid into the soft pile.

Those few minutes of assault brought down by morning tiredness, leaving me in a somewhat stoned state. I was panting heavily, my hands white, my heart beating rhythmically as I basked in the peaceful aftermath. I’m done. I’ve won. I’ve beaten these little things at their own fucking game!

Fuck yeah!… I raised both hands in celebration, chain sawing the cold morning air as I waved my hands about in victory.

I kicked dirt over the charred pile, stamped on it a few time for good measure, even attempted a ‘Gears-of-War-esque’ kill… then returned to the relaxing atmosphere of my kitchen, watching the sun rise on this delightful morning. For the first time in too long, I might actually have a normal day.

Norminance

And then night-time came and went. No drama, no nightmares, no night-time fucking incontinence. I woke up in the same clothes that I was wearing when I fell asleep. An expectation, if not certainty, for every other person on the planet, but after weeks of this nightmare I felt a sense of relief that I couldn’t compare to anything else. Finishing my exams was less dramatic than this. You won’t understand my newfound sense of relief, but fuck was I happy! I went outside to visit those poor, dead bastards, pouring a little hot coffee over their grave, just because I could. I might make a plaque for them, dig a hole and fill it with that bag of my used diapers. Hah, my last sign of ‘respect’ for those beings of pure evil. I didn’t question any more. I just enjoyed.

Anyway, I have a life to live, and so I twisted around, skipping back inside, making normal, socially expected, completely fine plans for the days and weeks and months ahead. My life is re-railed, I can forget about all of this…

…

For now, at least. Deep in that pile of ashes, where the mystery of dreamscape lies damaged; soft, nightmare screams could be heard. Because… how can you kill that, that was never technically alive?

And We’re Back

Just one, glorious week after I destroyed them, I faced my first shock. I’d quite happily gone to bed, content that seven nights of normalness would become a consistent trend. Content that a chainsaw, fire, dirt and ash would kill anything. Anything….

I was wrong. Having spent a brilliant evening out with friends, I remember stumbling home, around two am, to crash straight into bed, and fall asleep without hesitation. Perfectly normal thing to do at my age, and honestly, the little wetting accident that happened soon after while I lay unconscious wasn’t completely unheard of for many people after a night drinking… But to me it meant only one thing. As my heavily intoxicated mind fell into another blissful sleep, a horror movie restarted in my house. Just one week of normality before I was plunged head first into this hell once again!

…

I found myself in a solid, metal cot, claustrophobically trapped in a dark, small room, water flooding in from all directions! Wearing a skimpy, tight getup that even I wouldn’t wear in a night out on the lash, I began to shiver as the water flooded the plastic sheeting at my feet. I lashed out at the bars; unmoving iron girders that held me in this small space. As I pounded against its curved rods, I remember accidentally ripping my own top off. The water continued to rise, freezing me as I tried to climb, clutching at the wet material that held my modesty.

But I couldn’t. This drEam held me tight, and I realized that all I could do was accept the fact that I was going to experience death in this before I’d wake up, when all of a sudden the freezing waters turned warm. The inside of my thighs began to heat up, the water stop pouring, and so I dropped my body into this new found comfort. But as I did, I realized exactly what it meant, and as I thought about the mess that I would wake up to, my body did a somersault as I fell into blackness.

Déjà-vous

And then I landed on my bed, a loud wet thud like a metaphorical bitch slap to the face. As I felt my hangover distribute pain into my temples, I prayed that this… accident had been caused by the same thing.

But I knew my faith would get me nowhere. I knew the reality of the situation. I knew that that sort of nightmare meant only one thing.

So I jumped out of bed, ran to the window, ignoring the sticky breeze between my legs, and stared at a small patch of land in my back garden. In a small, roughly dug hole, was a single white package. Diapers.

...

No Trace

They’d vanished. Even after I’d cleaned myself, looked around the house and garden… they’d still vanished! There was no sign of those monsters anywhere! As I pushed my way through the bushes; one side of me pressed up against the fence, the other meeting a prickly rose bush, I could not even see a trace of them. I turned back to the hole. They’d left no footprints, no dirt marks, and no ash even! How can this happen!?

Emotions overcame me, and I ripped my way through the hedges to storm at the spot in the grass. I began to jog as I set up my strike. When I reached it, I punted the fucking package of adult diapers as far away as I fucking could! My foot felt electric as it made contact with the soft plastic, and the momentum made me slip and fall flat on my back. My head hit the grass and I knocked myself out.

...

Excuses

Fuck! I woke sharply to the sound of furious knocking. I was staring up into the blue skies above England, partially cloudy (to be expected) with a hint of fucking pain in the back of my head from the fall! I rubbed it slowly, getting up as I called out “Just a minute”. Stepping over that bristly matt outside my back door, I realized what else I needed to sort out. That “electricity” I had felt up my leg did something to my bladder, and my sopping wet lounge pants suffered because of it.

“Fuck!” I cursed to myself, taking a detour away from the front door to grab some laundry. I stripped half naked, wiping myself with kitchen roll (ouch, by the way!), and pulling up an old pair of jeans, deciding in the heat of the moment not to collect underwear. Just like a commando, I jogged into the hall.

Then I realized. There really isn’t any good way to explain to your neighbor why a large case of diapers ended up in their garden, and so I didn’t try. I paused, freezing on the spot as I heard another knock. Crap, I called out earlier. She knows I’m in. Fuck it! I’ll lie!

“Hello Miss Rogers, what can help you with?” I asked, putting on my best smile, learned through my pathetic job in retail as I swung open the door.

“You‘re… things are in my pond.” she said, snarling at me.

“My what?” I asked, playing the fool.

“I think you know quite well what! Don’t try to hide it from me, I’ve seen you in your garden!” she snorted.

“I- umm, they’re not mine!”

“If you want to be like that, I’ll take you up on your offer to help because I need your help getting them out of the pond, even if they are not yours.” With that, she grabbed my t-shirt and dragged me next door.

“I really don’t think-”

“I’ll tell your mother.”

That shut me up. I am extremely unfortunate in that my mother knows my next door neighbor. It was a mistake not answering my door that one time; it gave them an opportunity to meet… I sighed, listening to the old hag as she demanded that I take my shoes off upon entering the house. Then she realized I wasn’t wearing any.

As we stepped out into the back garden, which was notoriously neater than my own, I couldn’t help but crack a smile at the sight: I’d kicked the cuboid of water-proof plastic at least a good 20 yards! The unopened package was bobbing slightly against the rim of the pond; the seal keeping it completely dry on the inside. There was a large splash mark on the side of the shed behind it too.

“Go on then.” she said, pushing at me to collect them. I stormed around her, tiptoeing on the cold slabs, stepping onto the small decking next to the pool. I crouched down, leaning forward with my hand outstretched. I would not embarrass myself further by falling in! As my fingers touched the soft material, a tiny, but entirely visible spark flickered across from it up my arm. Suddenly I pulled back, tensing my groin, only to have it relax fully without my consent.

Luckily, having pissed myself only a few minutes before, I managed not to shame myself and ruin another pair of underwear in five minutes. I looked down at my crotch, sighing, then grabbing at the package again. I managed to edge it towards my side of the pond using just two fingers, each contact igniting this strange spark, making the tips of my fingers tingle and my bladder repeat cycles of clenching and relaxing. When it got close enough I grabbed it, getting up and turning to face Miss Rogers.

“Here.” I said, shoving the package into her hands, hoping it would have the same effect. It didn’t.

Miss Rogers grabbed them, looking back into the pond and coughing expectantly. There was a small paper slip still left in the water. I growled at myself for not seeing it, walking back over to it and reaching into the pool. I managed to pick it out of the water easier than the last, and so I once again walked back over to her, placing it rather forcefully onto the top of the package.

“There you go. You’re welcome. I’m off.” I said, storming towards the door.

Miss Rogers read the small tab, looked at me, and then back at the tag. An evil sneer came across her face.

Found Out

“So these are not yours then?” she asked.

“No. They’re not.”

“Ah, I realize that it was foolish of me to think that babies could read. Don’t worry, I’ll help you out.” she said, confusing me. I turned, giving her a ‘What are you on about?’ gesture. She dropped the package, holding the tag out at me. I guess, up until that point, I could have almost gotten away with my act, if it wasn’t for the name, previously un-noticed, written in bold letters on the sending tag. My name. My full fucking childhood baby name.

“They are yours.” she said, picking them up and thrusting them back into my hands, once again initiating that odd spark that made my legs wobble. Unfortunately, and rather inevitably, as I took them I felt myself pissing slightly again. I quickly turned away from her, walking as fast as possible towards my own house. I didn’t exactly want to piss myself right here.

“And from the looks of things you need them!” she howled, bursting into fits of laughter.

I looked down. Fuck!

I put one of my hands to my crotch, running through her house, out her door, and vaulted over the fence like an expert athlete... Except there was no blue mat waiting for me… oh and the athletes don’t need diapers. Fumbling with my own door handle, I rattled the hinges until it swung open. Then I slammed that fucker closed! It almost had enough force to break the stain glass, which rattled in its frame for a moment as I pressed my back against it.

As I felt an overwhelming shame crash down on me, I did something I hadn’t done in almost a week. I slid to my knees, and broke down into sobs of tears…

Insanity

I have no idea what to think. Am I insane? Am I fucking retarded!? Am I so wrong that I actually think soft fucking toys are causing me to change in the night into diapers I don’t even remember buying?!

Oh god… I’m losing it. I’m god-damned losing it!

I threw the package up my flight of stairs, deciding to deal with that problem later. I headed instead towards the utility room for another change. Then I realized something; If I touched that package again I’d wet myself. To get protection I’d need to wear a diaper. To put a diaper on I’d need to come into contact with it… which meant… I’d have to put a diaper on now… or never touch the packet again…

I turned on my heel, walking back towards the staircase, grabbing my oven lighter on the way. Before storming up the stairs, I let my jeans fall to the floor, deciding to walk up naked. I didn’t need to add to the damage on my jeans. I knelt down beside it, slowly reached out, and touched the package lightly. The feeling came back, and for a moment I feared another small accident. Luckily, I felt nothing, and so I began to tear away at the casing. I felt my cheeks burning again as I ripped a hole big enough to get a diaper out. My diaper… I couldn’t help but sigh as I held the neatly folded rectangle, pinching it slightly to test its squishiness.

Induction

And as I folded it out on the carpet, I realized that this diaper possessed the same static that induced incontinence, every touch causing the involuntary opening of my bladder. Wearing this thing would certainly cause me to wet it, but I knew it was my only option… for now. When I’d laid it out as best I could, I shifted my seating until I was directly on top of it. Lying back, I slowly and gently began to put it up and around me, torturing what was left of my ego in the process. It was one of the most shameful moments of my life, but thankfully, it was over after a short few seconds.

It’s strange… for the first time I’ve actually been able to focus on what it feels like to be taped into a diaper… Getting over the excruciating shame of it all, I realized that the physical side was not too bad. A firm, padded thickness between the legs, sure. Tight fitting, absorbent sponges from my lower back to my belly button, a slight annoyance but the security was comforting… I’m sure I could spend a few hours in this without it completely killing me. As for the rest of the diapers, I had a plan.

Gas Leak

I grabbed the opened packet by its tear, dragging it down the stairs like it was a heavy suitcase, through the hallway into the back garden. I left it by the door, grabbing my small, portable barbeque, and dragged it on its squeaky wheels to the small patio. I placed the packet of EasyCoal under the grill, lit its cardboard corners, and firmly began to roast the packet of diapers on top of it. Almost instantly they erupted into flames, plastic fumes spiraling upwards in a furious haze of black smoke. I pulled back, spluttering as I inhaled the fumes. I shut the door behind me, closing the windows to the back garden and watched from the pane glass security of my small kitchen. I had a bad feeling those fumes would to bad things to me.

I wasn’t wrong, either. I just didn’t realize how wrong until that evening.

Accidentals

Before that though, was another inevitable. To use words in context of how mature I felt at that moment; I accidentally my diaper. I went fucking wee wee’s. I didn’t make it to the god-damned potty in time! I had to be flicking over the children’s channels on TV when it happened, too! The whole fucking universe would think that I believed in the fucking toilet monster, and right now… I think that I actually do! What other way is there to sum up the fucked up piece of supernatural shit that I’m in!? I’ve been having fucking cycles of tantrums and tears, swearing and fucking messing myself! I just want to scream!

I lashed out at the sofa, thumping down on its leathery clamminess like it was one of those toys! I kicked and screamed in a cycle of anger and shame, tears wetter than the diaper that held onto me like the torturous clamp of a humiliating secret. For some reason I expected the burning of the diapers to be a be-all-end-all, but it wasn’t. The noticeable… fucking obvious bulge below my sweat pants was damp to the core.

I stood quickly, striding towards the bathroom with an un-necessary urgency. I couldn’t run from the protection that I was wearing. The diaper was only necessary because I was wearing the god-damned diaper. Then it hit me like a brick to the face! The reality of the fact. The completely irrational truth that I had decided not to take the diaper off after I’d finished needing it! I should have taken it off after setting the fire! Why didn’t I? Why did I continue to wear the one thing that had caused me so much torment… the one thing that was sagging uncomfortably underneath me, filled with my piss!?

I never made it to the bathroom… I collapsed halfway there.

Intoxicated

I laid in bed listening to the sound of my own heartbeat. The rhythmic thumping reminding me that this is true life, and that this is entirely real. I hadn’t made it to the toilet today, not even once… The only use I’d had with the bathroom was its shower… Fuck life!

I sighed, coughing momentarily from the plastic fume intake earlier, remembering my idiocy. Rolling on my side helped, until I felt the soft trickle down my inner thigh.

No! Please god-damnit no! I darted across the room as my pajamas became stained, completely unusable and disgusting after just a few seconds slipup. I pulled the soggy garment down as I planted myself on the toilet, by which time it was far far too late. My clothes suffered, my bathroom floor suffered, my mind suffered…

I sighed, dragging my head towards my hands, resting those on my damp thighs. Inhaling the smoke from the supernatural package must have caused a relentless and unmovable contact with incontinence in my lungs, at least, until it passes out of my system in a few hours… or even days? As long as those toxic fumes were inside me, I was a victim of my own bladder. Never again would I make such a stupid mistake.

I grabbed a towel, and yet another change of clothes, showered, and headed to bed. I then realized that I didn’t own any protection against another accident, having burned specifically the things that were designed for such a need… The irony hurting more than my self-esteem at this point – I folded the towel thickly between my legs, lying on my front until I fell asleep.

Dreads

Unfortunately, the comfort of sleep didn’t initially engulfed me, and now I’m left lying in the dark, staring into space, contemplating the many reasons why there is a towel between my legs. Considering the overwhelmingly unlucky time I’d had was my only solitude: That is, until I realized how much of it was my fault. I envisioned myself in a few years, wondering how long this... whatever it is, will last. I rolled onto my side, staring into the dark depths of my room, sighing to myself once again. I’ve done a lot of that today.

After I blinked, I realized that through the dark fog of night, black eyes stared directly into my own. Tens of button retinas, each fixated on my presence, moving silently through the jungle of chair-legs, bed springs, cupboards and window shelves, lying in ambush, waiting for that fatal moment when my guard would be down. And as they waited, I felt my eyes slowly... ever so slowly… begin to close. I knew that I’d be punished heavily for the fire I made today, but even that didn’t keep me awake. My body fell through into the darkness, and after no time at all I was plunged back into hell.

Reality

*BANG!* I bolted in my bed, body slamming hard against a wooden bar in front of me, stabbing an army of pain directly into my forehead. I feel as if I’ve just been hit over the head by a fucking baseball bat! As I opened my eyes, and the depth of my punishment became clear, I froze!

I’m in a crib. I’m wearing mittens and a bonnet and a diaper so disgusting I think I might just puke…

The anger multiplied. All the pain subsided as I focused on a single thing. All the horror of the nightmares, the accidents, the messing’s… They were all suddenly accounted for. At this moment I realized one thing… the actuality of my inevitable, unavoidable fate…

And I lashed out! The fucking reality has done terrible things to me, and I channeled it towards the single object that was creating this! I feel like a captive in my own fucking home, and I will not take it anymore! I leapt to my feet in defiance, pulling the mittens from my hands and lashing out! Head inches from the roof; I began slamming my body into the crib railings. Those soft pink, painted, unmoving bars of regression locking around me as I tried and tried to break free! My diapers tapes ripped apart, and as an actual pool began to splash down my leg though the gap, I threw myself at this monster of a creation again. I pounded until my arms hurt, then I flunked back onto the plastic mattress in defeat. As I looked down at my naked lower half, I suddenly lost all composure and fell into sobs…

For the third time, I was more than just wet this morning… And this time… I couldn’t change for god knows how long…

...

Then suddenly, with a sudden metal *clang*, the crib unlocked! Minutes, maybe even an hour after my outcry the machine allowed me out. I have no idea why: The bars were locked, then the bars weren’t! I slowly leant up, pushing at the bar supports until the side clipped free. It slid down gently, and I clambered out to freedom! I walked dejectedly towards the bathroom, the need to get out of this diaper being my one and only focus.  

...

The slow process was absolutely disgusting. The pungent smell I’d soon gotten used to, but every wipe of toilet roll to get it off my body was a blow to my self-confidence. I felt broken, childish, pathetic, and scared… really scared! I’d done it before, sure, but it’d never been this bad! I almost used an entire roll of toilet paper on my derriere before cleaning every inch of it in the shower!

Stepping back into my room brought back the smell, and I broke down again. I can’t take this, I can’t take the humiliation! It’s not fair! Why did they pick me?! What have I done that is so terrible!? Why the fuck is there such a huge god damn crib where my bed used to be!?

I decided then and there that I needed answers. I wouldn’t be asking a scientist either; I didn’t need to be laughed at any more than I felt I already was! No, I need to check the source of all things messed up. The library.

I got up from the floor, wiped my tears, and pulled open my wardrobe doors with encouraging determination. Only to have it bite me in the ass when I discovered exactly what had happened to my clothes. Shredded pieces of fabric littered the wooden base, the many shoe boxes missing lids and more importantly, the shoes themselves. What was left hanging in its place only added to the psychological pain I felt at that moment. Onsies, rompers, short puffy dresses and even playsuits! In yellows, pinks, whites, greys and turquoises! A single pair of Mary Janes sat at the back corner, with booties and mittens hanging from the hooks.

I quickly fell to my knees, pulling my underwear drawer with such force that it fell away from the wardrobes main section. It revealed a large stash of white plastic, soft terry cloth toweling, pink training pants and a few tinted see-through diaper covers! In one corner lay a small stash of medical accessories; powder, cream, oil and a jar of diaper pins. In the other, I counted five sissy bras… none of which even looked functional.

I noticed a single pair of my adult underwear hidden away behind it all, and I sighed. This is a sick joke! I get to wear underwear during the day, but only on one day until I clean them… I slammed my head against the inside mirror, my towel falling from my body, hitting the floor with the softest of thuds. I grabbed the underwear like it was made of gold, about to put it on when I realized something. An additional inside lining was sewn in… hessian. Fuck! This really is sick! Either wear diapers or endure hessian material on my privates! Fuck it I thought, pulling them on roughly, immediately regretting my decision as it scratched up my thighs. When it was over my waist, it felt like I was wearing sand paper! I slammed my head once more against the mirror, cursing loudly at no-one in particular before picking a bra. Deciding on a not so bad looking black one, I picked it up and hooked it to my body, before standing up uncomfortably.

I then rummaged through the drawers, hoping more than anything that there would be another adult article of clothing that I could wear. I was right; hessian filled skinny jeans with a hessian vest, attached to one of my better jumpers. I scratched at various parts of my body as I slammed the door shut, heading downstairs and quickly out of the door. Twenty minutes later I found myself in town, the scratching worse than ever and a mental note never to wear this hessian shit again.

Last Call

I stepped into the library, making another mental note not to swear too much as the familiar librarian noticed my familiar troublesome face. How was I supposed to know that I might actually need to use the library in my life… while I played a drunk game of truth or dare with a group of friends… loudly… in the children’s section…?

Anyway, I headed straight past her, instead searching for the science fiction section. After searching ‘paranormal’, ‘supernatural’, ‘encounters’, ‘ghosts’ and even ‘real mysteries’, sub-categorizing and sub-searching each key word, using dates, places and even my house address as guidance, I never found anything distinctly related… Although I did fear slightly more for the supernatur-

FUCK! I jumped up from my seat, sprinting towards the toilets with a hand between my legs, the knowing feel of wetness trickling down my right leg! While only being piss, it felt like a burning fire; the scarring shame that lodged itself into my mind as it spread down my thighs. I slammed my body into the toilet door, charging into a cubicle like a wild bull running at red.

I practically dislocated the toilet seat as I lifted it, pulling at my jeans, trying to get them off me as I continued to slowly piss myself. Every second that I struggled with the zip, apparently caught in the hessian, I lost another centimeter to the expanding stain; strengthening the wet signal of my hell. Eventually I gave up, collapsing onto the seat, feeling myself about to burst into tears. I breathed heavily, staring at the laminated flooring, trying to keep some composure. I shook like a fucking washing machine, unable to keep any part of me still… Fuck, fuck, feck, fuckidy fuck fucking hell I hate this!...

My arms were still clamped between my damp legs, my body forming a vertical fetal position. I’d been quite a few minutes since my accident, and I still had no idea what to do… I checked my phone, startled slightly when I discovered the time… I’d been here for three hours, so engrossed in my searches… and the accident… that I’d completely forgotten about my surroundings. I need to get home right now… wearing an extremely wet set of clothing…

Humiliation

I think I handled the next few minutes rather well…

I just sprinted; literally running like the sky behind me was on fire! I got stares from everyone, I couldn’t really expect less, and I figured that the amount of people who saw me must have been considerably less than if I’d walked. So I kept running... How could I just strut around anyway, looking like I did? Yeah every-fucking-body look at me, I’ve pissed my pants and I just don’t care… Eugh!

Fuck! As I entered through the front door, stropping as I padded on my wet socks down into the kitchen, I slammed my head on the cabinet repeatedly, timing it with my sharp, deep breaths. I *slam* do *slam* not *slam* need *slam* this *slam*! My entire body quivered, and with a shaking hand I poured myself a glass of water. Staring down at the clear liquid did not help take my mind of things; it was foolish to think it would. I sighed, chugged it like it was vodka, wishing for the first time in my life that I actually did consume alcohol as much as my peers, and that the drink in my hand was in fact a large alcoholic beverage...

Yeah, I need a fucking drink!

...

Not that I would… not dressed like this! Not even on a good evening. I gently placed the glass on the table, fearing for its fragility in my tantrum prone hands, letting my arm flop as my legs slowly gave way. Anger turned to sadness, and I slid down onto my knees, slammed my head into the cutlery draw, and sobbed.

...

Next thing I knew I was laying out a diaper on the huge crib, sitting between it and gently taping it to my adult body. Feeling relieved of all things; arching my head back onto the pillow, drowning my sorrows with another flood of tears before crying myself to sleep. I was miserable, but relieved... Relieved that I would never endure such a disgusting public display again… as long as I kept myself protected… with diapers. My bedwetting nightmare had officially ruined my day life now.

Conclusion

The simple fact is that my diapers would keep me safe. That comfy, safety blanket security, wrapped into a small, crinkly package that will hide out of sight so close to me… and keep me safe. For some reason, it actually felt… dignifying! With that thought deep in my mind, I slipped for the first time in months, into a nice, nightmare free sleep.

…

And in the morning, after a slow, gentle waking up, I slipped my hand between my legs and prodded my thick diaper. I almost heard the usual squish sound in my head, but this time, it felt crispy. It was at that very second that I felt something again: The heavy pressure building up inside my bladder. The inevitable message of a requirement; trained at a young age, and dearly missed; to get out of bed, and relieve myself dignifiedly. The feeling that I’d almost forgotten about for too many nights, and the one that I really shouldn’t be feeling right now… I felt like I needed the toilet!

This has to be a joke! The moment I get up I’m going to have an accident, I know it! It feels wrong, teasing even! I don’t want that feeling anymore! It was an increasing unpleasantness that consumed my mind until I decided then and there to just let go into my diaper. I won’t give those soft toys the satisfaction of teasing me. I won’t play their game.

Relief washed over me in an instant, as warm, comforting heat spread between my legs. I didn’t even feel myself blushing, even though I should… Right? I just wet myself!

For some reason I began to I squeeze my thighs together, almost playfully, rolling over to feel the warm haziness spread down my bum. The incontinence that was thrust upon me, that I labeled as disgusting, annoying, disrespectful, even sick… it now felt like relief.. like security. Part of me should be protesting at the idea of using diapers, but there was no voice…

I was glad to have had it stripped from me so quickly and unprovoked. Such a stark awakening was needed I think. The feeling of needing the toilet was something I’d so taken for granted – and dearly missed – until I realized its exaggerated helpfulness. I don’t feel relieved to have had this bladder sensation given back to me! Honestly, I don’t want it... not anymore…

And so, even as I waited for myself to get out of the warm, soft crib, I also found that I didn’t care to. In fact, in defiance of my ‘duty’ as an adult, I rolled over, lifted the side of the crib up until it clicked shut and smiled. I then turned over in the darkness, and as I laid back down I relaxed.

…

For literally the next few hours I simply laid in the crib. Every time I felt a tingle between my legs, I’d immediately let go. My diaper was soaked through by now, but I trusted it not to leak. The soft crinkling, the thickness, and the dull heat that consumed my lower body no longer feeling like a curse, and as the new accident spread, I couldn’t help but gently giggle as I realized the new level of ease that I felt. I’m happy, right now, intentionally wetting a full diaper and pretty much feeling myself become incontinent! I stretched each of my limbs, hitting the barred surface on every side of me; the claustrophobia would have gotten to me in any other situation, but this didn’t feel like it. I knew I was stuck in here, in an actual crib, and yet I felt as if I needed to be. I felt right.

I suppose, in a twisted way, those nightmares had done me a favor, and as I floated through my dreams I suddenly felt myself fall. I eventually landed with a soft thud, in a room that I couldn’t easily forget. I was lying in my room before everything started. In fact, I was perfectly dry! I was even wearing perfectly normal adult pajamas, underwear on me not diapers! Which I suddenly craved for! Diapers, I need my diapers back! I lifted my head up, and as I did so I swear on my life...

I had woken up again… again!