Chasing Idols (edited)

Copy edit provided by a very kind /aco/ denizen, which which can be found here: https://pastebin.com/xW371Fn5
A lot of the punctuation, grammar and Briticisms have now been fixed as a result. I am truly grateful. I'm sorry it took so long to post.
(Yes, "flying visit" is a real idiom. No, I've not changed it)


“Just look at him, he’s got a cool leather jacket…"
“Yes Anna…”
“And he wears all black-”
“I know Anna-”
“And he has a *nose piercing*!”
“Anna,” said Mel, closing her book, “I get that you think that Mason is the coolest shit since sliced bread. I do. But if I have to endure one more library session in which you pine by over him by listing his physical attributes, I’m going to scream.”
“Sorry Mel. It’s just-”
“No ‘it’s just!’ You have a crush, go talk to him or let me read about plain scullery maids being the unlikely objects of affection for Spanish men of high social standing in peace.”
“Talk to him? I can’t- he’s so...so…"
“Anna. Anna. You are my best friend. But my patience over your unrequited high school punk rock crush is going to make me lose hair. Go talk to him.”
“But he’s so cool! And he’s always with his friends...”
“Anna. They are not some cool kids beyond reproach. They wear diapers.”
“But HE’S so cool. And he wears black diapers. Or skull and crossbones ones. He’s SO punk Mel. I wish I was into cool stuff like him.”
“You know you can just BUY a Pink Floyd album, Anna?”
“Oh,” Anna said, nervously twirling a strand of long curly hair, “I tried… I couldn’t get into it…”
“Ok then, how about diapers?” Mel suggested, returning to her book.
“Diapers?” Anna responded, in an affronted whisper.
“You and I know exactly two things about him from your weekly vigils over him during our Wednesday free period. He’s punk and he wears diapers. By the fact he hangs around with the babies more than the punks, I dare say he may even be more into diapers. You refuse to talk to him without a discussion topic. You can’t even appreciate Dark Side of the Moon somehow, that leaves padding up. So go for it, Bucko!”
“But… I’m not…”  Anna protested.
“Fine. But as your longest, best, and only friend, I am hereby cutting you off from babbling about Mason Brooks until you do something constructive about it.”

To say Anna was blushing was an understatement. First, there was the walk to the store after school, knowing she was going to buy diapers. Then there was the long time lingering in the diaper aisle, staring at shelves of brightly colored packages, pulling down packs at random, trying to figure out sizing and choosing a pattern (pink with unicorns,) all the while feeling like at any minute someone would walk past and see her. That was nothing compared to actually paying for it, fumbling with her purse as the cashier rang her up one pack of diapers clearly FOR her. Currently she was enduring the walk home; bearing a carrier bag with a large, distinctively cuboid package, by looking firmly down and hoping that her cheeks weren’t nearly as red as they felt.
However, part of this embarrassment was perhaps just nervousness at what may come next.
Anna inhaled deeply. She stood just outside her front door.
She took the door handle in a shaky hand.
She turned it.
“Hi darling! How was your day?” The call came from inside as she swung the door open. She peered through the living room, the kitchen door was half closed. Mom couldn’t see her.
“Goodthanksmomhowaboutyours?” Anna called back as she scrambled up the stairs and out of sight.
She slammed her bedroom door shut much harder than she meant to, and thrust her new package under the bed. After which she collapsed in a sigh of relief, letting her breathing mellow before heading back downstairs.

“So,” her Mom began conversationally between mouthfuls of risotto, “You were back late today. Anything fun keeping you behind?"
“Oh, um. Just chatting with Mel. You know.” Anna replied, looking firmly at her bowl lest her look gave away anything. Her mom was a bit too perceptive when it came to Anna’s creatively worded diversions (or rather, Anna’s cheeks rarely acted in her best interest). “This risotto is delicious by the way Mom," she threw out as a diversion.
“Thanks honey! Cream and wine is the secret.” These two ingredients formed the secret to most of her mom's cuisine, however Anna could sense this would more than adequately divert her inquiry “best two things to put in food, or drink out of bottles.”
Her Mom chuckled. Anna didn’t see the joke, but that rarely stopped her Mom laughing at her own sentences, or Anna finding herself smiling at them.
“You don’t drink cream out of bottles Mom!” Anna objected.
“You did, when you were young. Well, more by the spoonful.”
“Exactly, it wouldn't come out of a baby bottle!”
“You know, I never tried. I think we still have your old bottles in a box in the attic. What do you say, kiddo?”
Anna wordlessly objected and her Mom merely giggled at how easy her teenage daughter was to wind-up.

After dinner was eaten and cleared, Anna practically ran to her bedroom. Breathless and with nervous fingers, she pulled out the package from under the bed and extracted it from the carrier bag.
It was bigger than she expected, squarer too. Firm to the touch. She tore along the perforated edge to create an opening and pulled out her first diaper. It slid out smoothly, with the faint sound of plastic against plastic. It felt soft, and as she unfolded it curiously, a brush with the inside felt heavenly.
“Softer than a pillow,” she remarked, as someone who kept both memory foam and feather varieties on her own bed. As she turned it over faffing for the tabs, a faint perfume hit her.
“Pretty," she said to herself, finally orienting the diaper to her satisfaction and laying it on the bed. She then looked at it for a moment, gathering herself before slowly undressing herself item by item. She felt a lightness in her chest. Was this anticipation? As she placed her panties next to the pile of other clothes, she took a deep breath, as if the plunge was physical not metaphorical, and lay down. It took some awkward positioning, but she finally got it correctly under her and pulled it up. She noted the cushiness as she taped it into place tab by tab.
It was done.
She was wearing a diaper.
She could feel its soft touch. It was there, she could feel it, actively feel the diaper she was wearing. She shifted her leg. She could hear the plastic rustle and crinkle. She stood up gingerly. She could feel the bulk of her diaper between her legs, separating them ever so slightly.
Anna caught a glance of herself in the mirror.
“Oh!” she exclaimed, slightly startled. Her usual profile, a woman in her late teens, all curves and hips and skin, but with the contrast of a thick diaper hugging her hips. It was a novel contrast.
“I’m wearing a diaper," Anna whispered to herself. She ran her hand across the front, the smooth, cool plastic being felt simultaneously with the extra pressure of soft fluff rubbing against her skin. The two sensations simultaneously stimulating two areas of skin. The soft crinkle as she did so. The sheer mass separating her hand from her crotch no matter how hard she pressed. The bright block colors and designs against her body.
“I’m wearing a diaper… like Mason,” she whispered louder, breathier, imagining him in front of her. Imagining him looking at her with those hazel eyes.
“...just like Mason…"

“...like don’t get me wrong, it was SUPER comfortable-”
“Uh-huh"
“But it got a bit hot, y’know?”
“Hmmmm.”
“And I woulda just lost the duvet, normally, but I didn’t want to uncover myself in case Mom walked in. Because fuuuck explaining that one.”
“Right.”
Anna had been recounting (the majority) of last night's escapades to Mel over lunch, secluded in the bustle of the canteen. Mel in turn, had responded with the customary noises of interest while eating a bagel with one hand and holding a book in the other. Today's had vikings on the cover.
“I dunno. It just ended up slightly… sweaty? Which isn't to say how comfy-”
“You forgot the powder,”  Mel interrupted.
“What?” Anna asked.
“Baby powder. Helps with that sort of thing. You didn’t mention it.”
“Oh. Um. Thanks. That should help?” Anna responded, uncertain what to make of this recommendation.
“Don’t mention it,” Mel said, still staring intently at her page.
“Wait-” Anna said, “How do you know about that sort of thing?”
“I’m a knowledgeable person."
“I hardly think your historical bodice rippers contain much in the way of padding and pacifiers,” Anna said, raising an eyebrow suggestively.
“No Anna,” Mel sighed, putting her open book face down on the table, “But unlike you I don’t subsist on a media diet of celebrity gossip and detective shows.”
“I never pegged you as watching THAT kind of show…”
“You’ve never pegged me at all,” Mel responded with such a straight face Anna almost missed the line altogether, “However, not all little stuff belongs in one genre of media. Documentaries, biographies, talk shows, heck even soap operas. You must be actively trying to not consume any media with a diaper change. Or more likely, you have and were obliviously dismissive to the whole thing until a certain padded punk hunk caught your eye.”
“Ummm,” Anna stalled.
“Anyway,” Mel continued, picking up her book and resuming her place, “Seeing as you’re trying to find common ground with the estimable  Mr Brooks, maybe you yourself should be trying THAT sort of media. While you are right about pacifiers, there are some historical romances with their share of damp padding.”
“Yeah, I guess you're right," Anna sighed.
“So. Are you gonna go talk to him now?”
“What?” Anna objected.
“Mason, are you going to go talk to him? You’ve got the diapers, go make introductions.”
“And say what? Hey, you like diapers. I wore for the first time last night, wanna hang?”
“Yeah,” replied Mel, “I thought so at least.”
“You’re joking! I’ve got to take this seriously. I gotta show some commitment. Learn to use powder, learn to tape. Wear them more than just at night.”
“Like when?” Mel asked.
“I should really start wearing them to school, if I want him to know I’m, like into it…” Anna mused.
“Really?” Mel said. Now it was her turn to raise an eyebrow. “‘cause that might be a bit far just to impress a boy.”
“Oh god,” Anna said, struck by the realization, “I’m going to have to wear a diaper to school.”
“I think *have* might be a bit strong there buddy.”
“Oh *god*” Anna said again, wringing her hand in panic, “I’m going to have to wear a diaper to *school*”

As Anna awoke the next morning to the shrill ring of her alarm, she was groggily aware of her realisation.
“Ok,” she affirmed, “I’m going to wear a diaper to school.”
She sat up, the diaper she’d put on the night before still snugly around her.
“Huh, good shout on the powder,” she remarked, patting her own bottom with a satisfying novelty. She spent some time picking out a solidly knee length skirt, and after wrangling it over the extra bulge of the diaper, admired her own profile in the mirror.
“That should do it!” she remarked, before resuming the rest of her morning routine.
She spent a few runs practicing walking without a waddle before gathering the courage to head downstairs. Every step rubbed all the wonderful textures of the diaper between her thighs and lowering herself to sit in her usual breakfast seat brought the softness and comfiness to new extremes as it was all so firmly pressed against her.
“Morning sweetest!” her Mom greeted, far too chirpy for this early in the morning, “How did you sleep?”
“Like a baby!” Anna responded, before groaning inwardly at her own choice of words. “How about you Mom?”
“Like a log,” she responded.
Anna’s mom handed her a plate of their usual Friday cooked breakfast as Anna was quietly secure in the thought that if her own Mother suspected nothing, then there’s no way anyone else should.

“Oh god. I’m wearing a diaper in school.”
“So you’ve told me.”
“This is a nightmare. There are so many people. What if they notice? What if I get asked to write on the board? What if it falls off? I haven’t even got tights on!”
“Y’know,” Mel commented, “I thought it was a bit brave on a Friday. I’d have at least waited until after the weekend to test some outfits. See what works through the day…"
“Shit...” Anna cursed, “Mel that's so clever. Why didn't you say yesterday?”
Mel shrugged,
“Didn’t think you’d do it today.”
“Why not?!”
“Well, you’d have to be some kinda moron!” Mel teased.
“Yeah…”
“Look. I can't tell you have one on. Except when you keep telling me.”
“Thanks…”
“And besides. It’s Friday. You can always get through Friday.”

Anna found the rest of her school day much calmer after the little chat. She realised most of the day was spent sitting still at desks and so provided little opportunity for people to look at her standing up. Certainly moving between classes, there would be too much noise to hear any of the tell-tale sounds. Besides, who would know it was her's?
So Anna spent lessons idle and distracted. Experimentally squeezing her legs to test the sensation, running a finger over it, shuffling in her chair to feel it rub back and forth. When that novelty wore off, she started looking around at the littles in the class. Mel was right, she had been oblivious to them.
They wore a great range of outfits, although most could be described as some form of cute. Overalls, dresses, printed T-shirts. Even the ones that weren’t obvious hand some kind of identifying paraphernalia, like paci clips or bottles. Then again, Anna wondered, how would you tell a little if they didn’t? She was hoping to prove that a diaper could be well-hidden under normal clothes. Who knew if anyone else did?
Despite her vigilance, she could make out no diaper bulge on any other plainly dressed person, although she thought  she saw a guy two rows in front of her in math with the same pink waistband peeking up over his shorts.
Thus passed Anna’s friday, until-

“Mel it’s all over!”
“What happened? Did you talk to him?”
“Heavens no. I stood by him near the lockers and couldn’t get a word out. No. It’s worse. All Mason's previous girlfriends have been littles!”
“I don’t follow,” Mel said flatly.
“Don’t you see? I’m not even in with a chance. I’m not his type.”
“Why not?”
“Well I’m not a little?” Anna said condescendingly.
“So the point of the diapers was?” Mel asked.
“That's-” Anna stuttered, “That's- Hmmm. Ok. Does that mean...?”
“Besides,” Mel continued, “You know nothing about Mason Brooks because you never TALKED TO HIM.”
“No you’re right-” Anna said, deep in thought.
“Thank you!”
“I have made good progress.I just need to keep it up. Then I can catch his attention. What's the next step? Wetting? Pacis?”
“Oh good grief. I give up. Look, I’m heading home, but I’ll swing by yours to return that magazine set and the nail polish I borrowed last week. Try not to buy yourself a crib between now and then.”
“No, not a crib. Mom would see it,” Anna muttered, barely registering as her friend turned down the path towards her own house while Anna kept walking on.

Wetting. Anna had decided the next step would be wetting. But no matter how hard she tried on the walk home she just couldn’t seem to let go. Her bladder was full, she tried stopping, sitting, squatting, but no matter what her diaper remained dry as a bone.
“Hi Mom!” Anna called as she came in.
“Hi sweetie! Dinner's going to be a little while.”
“Okay, I’ll be down in a few minutes,” Anna called back as she trudged up the stairs.
In the security of her own room, she slung her school bag to the floor, let her skirt drop and stood by the mirror. She leant forward with one arm outstretched, balancing herself against the wall. She was determined to do this. She let her other hand feel the seat of her diaper.
“It’s okay Anna,” she told herself, “just go in your diaper. It’s what it’s for. Just let go in your diaper."
She felt the first spasm of release, a squirt of pee left her body. She couldn’t feel it on the outside. She couldn’t feel either warmth nor wetness on the inside. It was just... gone. Encouraged and surprised, she released a little more, and a little more. Each release felt wonderful, and each bit was almost instantly wicked away by her diaper. Whether it was the security or just the floodgates breaking, she held back no more, and soon she could feel the warm dampness spread around her crotch, and moments later felt the warmth spread to her hand cupping the front of the diaper. She marveled ]as she felt the bulk of the diaper expand between her legs as she wet it, spreading the lovely warm feeling even further. The weight of the diaper increased in her hand, but it stayed secure on her hips. As the stream slowed to a stop, Anna admired her handiwork. Her first wet diaper.
The relief, the release was intense, much more than she thought it would be. She didn’t expect the feeling to linger as it did. Nor did she expect how warm and comfortable it would be after wetting. She rubbed and pressed the front of her newly wet diaper experimentally. It was… squishy. But it was nice. It was tactile. Still soft, but with an extra dimension to it.
She admired her handiwork in the mirror. The diaper was certainly bigger. Bulkier. She thought she liked that. The tint of yellow was noticeable even through the pink.
It was undeniably a wet diaper.
Despite her comfort and delight in the deluge of new sensations, Anna supposed it might be an idea to change her newly wet diaper.
That was when two problems occurred to her.
Firstly, she had no changing supplies. Second, she needed to dispose of it without her Mom noticing.
She spent some moments fretting, then a plan came to her as the doorbell rang. Mel! She could walk Mel out of the house when she leaves, letting her swing by the trash cans. Then she just needed to get a trash bag from somewhere…
Anna thought of all this as she flung her skirt back on and ran down the stairs, the bell impatiently rang a second time. Her warm diaper squishing ever so slightly with each step. “I’ll get it Mom!” Anna called as she saw her Mom leaving the kitchen towards the door, “It’s just Mel.”
“Oh how lovely, haven’t seen Mel in ages!” her Mom replied, rubbing her hands on her apron. “Will she be staying for dinner?”
“Just a flying visit,” Anna said, flinging open the door to a greeting from Mel, who was holding a carrier bag bursting with magazines.
Anna ushered her in, closing the door behind slightly harder than she meant to.
This had a slightly unintended consequence. As Anna spun round to face her friend as she shut the door, but it had not swung closed before she did so. As she did this, the hem of her skirt flew out and became trapped in the gap and was pulled on by the door. The skirt, only loosely refastened as Anna had rushed downstairs, promptly popped its clasp and fell to the floor.
The result of this was Anna standing there as Mel and her Mom stared at her newly revealed soaked pink diaper with unicorns on.
Anna promptly burst into tears.

“Hush it’s okay ba- dear!” her mother consoled, arm around the sobbing teenager who was sitting between her Mom and Mel (who was holding a box of tissues) on the living room sofa, still skirtless with her diaper on full display.
“Why don’t you tell me from the beginning, hmm?” her Mom said. “Tell me the whole story. Mommy won’t judge.”
“Maybe I can?” Mel offered, looking to Anna.
Anna nodded in consent, so Mel relayed the story of Mason and the plan henceforth as neutrally as she could muster.
By the time she had finished, Anna had reduced the sobbing to a sniffle, but looked apprehensively at her Mom, awaiting her reaction.
“Well this is wonderful!” her Mom clapped in delight.
“It is?” Anna asked, with Mel moments away from asking a similar question.
“Yes! Well. If you’re going after this boy, you’ll need a few more items, I think. I wonder if I still have your old toys. You know, never saw you as going for a little. Far too mature. Oh, you know I had a little phase in college. Gave it up when I got pregnant of course, not fair on you, but oh my, we could go diaper shopping! The prints they have these days…”
Mel and Anna exchanged raised eyebrows as her Mom kept on gushing.
“Full of surprises, your Mom” Mel whispered.
“When isn’t she?” Anna whispered back.

After Mel had been apologised to profusely and left for home, Anna’s mom took her out for the missing changing supplies. Which Anna was grateful for as her warm and squishy diaper was going cold, clammy and strangely rigid.
Her Mom picked up wipes, diaper bags, a changing mat and helped her pick out a new pack of diapers (jungle animal print) as well as a bright pink pacifier. By the time they got to the checkout she was also carrying a pack of diapers in Large size with rocket ships on, but Anna said nothing. Who was she to question?
As they came back in through the door to the smell of roasting gammon, her Mom asked,
“Want help changing sweetie?”
“I think I’ll manage, thanks Mom,” blushing slightly at the intimacy of the idea.
“Are you sure? I’m a bit rusty, but I got pretty good at changing you before you toilet trained.”
“I’ll be fine Mom.”
“Suit yourself,” her Mom replied as Anna trundled upstairs with her new supplies, a slight crinkle as she walked.
Her Mom popped the case of Large diapers in her own room, accompanied by an excited squeak.

Anna considered changing back into panties, but figured after all that it’d be almost rude not to be back in diapers. She lay her new changing mat on the bed before untaping her old diaper and letting it fall away from her. The wipes were cold, but a much needed relief from the cloying wetness. The soft, dry diaper felt heavenly as she pulled it over herself, feeling almost thin by comparison.
She secured it snugly and stood up, reaching for her skirt.
Then she remembered the clasp was broken and figured that she’d spent enough of the evening without it already so headed down to dinner without it.
Her mother raised an eyebrow but said nothing as her teenage daughter sat at the table clad only in a top and diaper. This was obviously how things were going to be. Quite the effect this Mason boy was having.
Well, she was hardly going to complain.


Anna spent the weekend in much the same manner. She woke up in her diaper, wet it, found a top to put on and went about her day. Her changing mat stayed out on her bed until sleep time, she changed when she felt like it (which was usually when the warm squishy feeling went away). The pacifier popped in and out of her mouth as the day wore on.
Her mother said little about it to her as Anna lay on the couch half dressed with a wet diaper sucking on a pacifier. Although Anna could swear she heard crinkling as her Mom pottered around the house.
On Sunday, her Mom called her into the kitchen.
“Hey sweetie, take a seat. I’ve got a surprise for you,” her Mom said as she came in.
Anna did so, the wet bulk of her diaper compressing under her.
Her Mom presented her with a spoon of a thick liquid, yellowish white. Certainly not cream.
“What is it?” Anna asked.
“Just have a try.”
Anna tried to take the spoon but her Mom held it firm, so Anna opened her mouth as her Mom spooned it to her.
It was almost sickly sweet. Delicious, certainly thick. A texture of melted chocolate but richer…
“Condensed milk. You loved this stuff… scraped the tin if I ever baked with it. Now you're a bit older…” she refilled the spoon from the tin, which was full, “I thought I’d let you have a *tad* more. Want another?"
Anna nodded as her Mom spoonfed her another mouthful. Then another. Soon she was scraping the edge of the tin and Anna felt delightfully full.
“There we are. Good baby,” her Mother praised.
Anna blushed, but she didn’t know why. She’d certainly been acting like one.
“Now, don’t forget to brush your teethsies, and you’ll need a fresh diaper before bed too.”
“Yes Mommy,” Anna replied. Her Mom smiled.

“Well. It sounds like you’re really getting into it,” Mel said.
“Yup! I’m starting to see the appeal, I’ll be honest. I considered bringing my pacifier in, too. Just making the big splash.”
“Cool,  Mel said “Does that mean you’re finally going to talk to him?”
“Yup. I’ll go up to him and be all, ‘Mason Brooks, my name's Anna and I want to go on a date with you!”
“Oh thank goodness. I believe in you Anna! When are you going to enact this grand plan?”
“He usually hangs at the library Monday lunch times. Then and there!”


Anna was crouched between stacks of books, listening in on Mason's conversation. She didn’t mean to pry, she rationalised, she just didn’t want to interrupt at an inopportune time. She had begun listening as Mason had finished story time, which Anna almost said aloud was “so friggin’ adorable.” She would’ve sprung then and there, but the conversation soon swerved into relationships, so what better time to wait until his mind was on it?
Soon enough, the conversation puck was firmly planted in Mason's court, and Anna couldn’t help but strain closer, her diaper pressed against the shelf behind as she leant over.
“Of course, Mason's been lucky in love,” someone, a girl, teased.
“Not for a while, looking for the right person.” It was Mason, undeniably.
“And pray tell who is the right person? Big? Little?”
“I’m not too fussed about labels. I never slotted nicely in either. Someone I can be close with, y’know? Take care of each other.”
“But you don’t get taken care of very much!” came a second voice, with a slightly babyish style.
“Not like that. Intimate. Close. Kisses and cuddles and deep conversations. That sort of thing.” Mason responded.
“That all?” came the first voice again.
“Oh, don’t get me wrong, nothing brings me closer to someone than changing a messy diaper. If I can’t do that for them the whole thing's doomed.” Mason laughed.
Anna froze.
“M-messy diaper?” she whispered to herself.
She slumped down, her diaper squishing under her as her rear hit the floor.
She ran her fingers through her hair, cursing to herself. Trying desperately to recapture the confidence a few minutes before. Even a sliver of it.
She stood up, took one look right, toward the aisle Mason was sat, and turned left back towards Mel.

“So you wussed out,” Mel surmised, after hearing the retelling.
“He said it plain as day. He ain’t gonna last with someone who can’t mess their diaper. I can’t do that yet!”
“Maybe he was joking?”
“Maybe… jeez. This diaper's getting full.”
“Then go change it doofus!” Mel replied.
“I haven’t brought a change…”
“Then just go to the bathroom?” Mel said, pulling an expression reserved only for the most obvious of statements.
“I guess… but the school bathroom just seems gross to me now… I’d rather not. I wonder if I can get a spare?”
“You could go ask Mason for one?”
“Shut up.”
“Worth a shot.”

Anna did none of those things. Nor did she really bother to try to hold it. The constant pleasure of release, coupled with the ever swelling warm bulk between her legs brought her ever increasing pleasure and delight. Just running her hand over the massive, swollen front and pressing it against herself with her palm was… well it just got better.
Thus it should’ve really come as no surprise when she on the walk home felt the trickle of hot pee run down her inner thigh. It phased her little, she merely kicked off her shoes, let the worst of it drip down (squeezing her sodden diaper for good measure,) and once the splattering sound on the pavement had stopped, she resumed her walk home.

“Hey Mom!” Anna called, closing the door behind her, "Can you bring a change? Kinda got a leak here?”
“Oh dear!” her Mom exclaimed, “Look at you, you’re practically dripping. Give me your skirt, I’ll throw it in the wash. And stay there, I don’t want you trailing through the house.”
So Anna stood, shifting her weight from leg to leg with her dripping, sagging, saturated diaper on full show as her Mom crinkled off and found some supplies.
“I’ll wipe you down some, then go jump in the shower, OK?” her Mom said, pulling at the tapes of her daughter's diaper. “How on earth did this happen?”
“Mom!” Anna protested as her diaper fell to the floor with a thud. She felt as if her cheeks were burning to a crisp. She was sure that having your diaper untaped and being cleaned down by your Mom at the doormat was not as normal as her Mom was trying to make it sound. Then again, there wasn't much normal about turning up at the doorstep with a dripping diaper in the first place.
“Hush. There’s no other way, you’d have dripped up the stairs otherwise,” her Mom chastised, running wipes up and down her leg. "Now answer the question.”
“I didn’t take a change to school… and I didn’t want to use the toilets either,” Anna admitted, looking firmly up at the ceiling. As if looking away would allow her to pretend it wasn't happening. Which wasn't much use, even if she could ignore the feeling of cool wipes being run up and down her leg, she could still see her diaper in the corner of her eye.
“Well. I can understand that… not as if I’ve much used the toilet this week,” her Mom laughed, “But we must get you a diaper bag if that’s how it’s going to be. Now, get yourself in that shower young missy, and I’ll get tea on the table.”
The water was relaxing, and Anna spent a mite longer in the shower than she meant to. She did come out feeling refreshed and with the worries of the world washed away.
She practically skipped into the dining room wearing only her dressing gown and a big crinkly diaper.
“We might need to get you some of those too. I don’t know about you, but I’m running low,” her Mom said, draining a pan of linguine. “Looks like we’ve got some shopping to do.”

After dinner saw a trip to the shops, in which Anna found herself a lovely floral diaper bag, not too big, but with the right amount of compartments. She picked a new set of diapers with a princess design, and a green paci for when she fancied a change of colour. Her Mom silently added a pack of diapers with blocks on and a bottle that Anna would only ever see on the drying rack. This time, Anna didn't feel embarrassed to be in the store. She felt excited. Excited to be buying diapers, buying her diapers, to try new prints and her new pacifier.

From then on, Anna fell into a routine. People paid little notice, or at least didn’t much comment on the second bag she brought to school. She changed her diaper (semi) regularly, she sucked her pacifier each night, she found the weeks slipping by.

“I just can’t do it,” Anna whined between popping her paci in and out of her mouth. It was a Sunday, and she’d rang Mel for an extra dose of listening to her new favourite bugbear.
“I hold it for days, I try to push, I just can’t do it. I just end up wussing out.”
“Have you tried sitting over the toilet?” Mel suggested flatly but helpfully.
“That just makes it easier to wuss out. I’m pretty sure even Mom is messing her diaper. Why can’t I?”
“Didn’t want to know that… well you’ve got two options. Do it, or give up.”
“I can’t do that now… after all this...” Anna didn’t even notice she was rubbing the front of her diaper. Or that it was wet. “If nothing else, I wouldn’t want to spoil it for Mom. She’s seemed so happy recently.”
“Well, that leaves do it. Look, I’ve gotta go get lunch. Just, don’t go to the toilet. Lock it or something. It’s gotta happen eventually. Bye!”
With that, Mel hung up.
Her last words stuck though.
“It’s gotta happen eventually,” Anna repeated to herself, like a mantra. She paced around her room, back and forth.
She could feel the pressure in her bowels. She hadn’t been for days, and her desperation was starting to affect her ability to stand still.
“It’s gotta happen eventually… so it might as well be now! Right.”
Anna steadied herself, closed her eyes, hardened her resolve… and pushed.
Nothing.
She tried again, straining, feeling the effort, feeling the solid mass inside her desperate to get out… nothing.
But she was desperate.
Her mind turned to the bathroom. Of easy, familiar relief from this urgent build-up.
“Come on Anna. Come on.”
She braced herself against the wall. She felt her right leg shake restlessly, almost violently, expressing the nerves, the anticipation, the trepidation.
She did it. She let go for just a moment and felt the slight push against her padding. She panicked, she squeezed shut.
It was so unfamiliar. So wrong. So…
She pushed again. A mass of hot, squishy mess slid out of her, filling the back of her diaper. It expanded and spread slowly, warm mush slowly filling her diaper.
And the release. The feeling of emptiness and relief, tangible relief where there was a moment ago pressure was…
She would much later describe it to Mel as “unreal." The real word was blissful. Utterly blissful.
As the flow slowed and stopped and Anna was left to explore the firm, sticky mass covering her backside, as the feelings in her gut dissipated, she was left with one thought.
“I pooped my diaper!”
She waddled over the mirror excitedly, the heavy load making walking difficult. The feeling of it rubbing and shifting against her skin was quite unlike that of a wet diaper.
She stripped down to just her underwear, and admired herself. The tell-tale bulge of a messy diaper.
She practically jumped for joy. She’d done it! She’d finally done it!
However, in the background of her reflection, she saw something that somewhat shortened her celebration.
Her changing mat.
She was going to have to clean it up.

Anna had never pulled the tabs off so slowly, so shakily as she lay on her changing mat. She slowly lifted the front of her diaper. The smell was earthy… not as bad as she’d feared.
Then she looked down.
“Nope. Eww. Gross,” she said, replacing the diaper over her, as if undoing the action would fix the problem.
“What on earth do I do now?” she wondered, trying again to gingerly peel back the diaper.
She quickly gave up. She couldn't do this. But she equally couldn't lay there with a messy, untaped diaper forever.
She fretted, holding but not lifting the front of her diaper, looking this way and that. She tried again to lift it but the mere thought got in the way. She pulled it back over her with such force she felt the mess in the back flatten and spread over her backside.
She needed an out.
“Mooom?” she called, unsure, wavering, “Can you come up here please?”
“What is it?” her Mom called back, trudging up the stairs and into Anna’s room.
“I-uh” Anna began to explain as her Mom opened the door to her half changed daughter, otherwise naked, laying on her changing mat with an expression of utter helplessness. “I messed my diaper...” she continued, almost whispering, “but it’s too gross to change. Can you help me?”
“Of course sweetie,” her Mom replied, grabbing wipes, “Let's have a look... Oh, that's a big mess!” she exclaimed.
“Yeah… I’ve been struggling to..” Anna began to explain.
“Ah. Well, don’t hold it too long, it’s best to do it naturally. If you have to hold it that long and find it so icky, why push yourself?” Mom asked, lifting Anna’s legs and wiping around with great efficiency.
“Oh… Mason's into girls who mess,” she blushed, although at what specifically she wasn't sure.
“Well, I’m not sure I approve of doing it to impress a boy, although I certainly won’t complain at having toilet cleaning struck off the chores list.” Anna felt cleaner and fresher by the minute, and soon a new diaper was being slid under her, with clouds of powder wafting up. “Just take it at your own pace, ey kiddo?” her Mom concluded, patting her padded rear to signal a finished job.
“Ok Mommy, I will.” Anna promised.

She didn’t relate the new milestone to Mel the next morning. Both Mason and diapers took a conversational backseat to books, gossip, celebrities.
Anna suspected Mel knew, but Mel was just glad to be back to old topics enough to not question Anna’s sudden reluctance to bring up all things Mason.
Diaper messing became slowly more regular, especially as Anna became slowly accustomed and more comfortable with changing her own. Soon she started appreciating messing for the feeling and the fullness it gave her diaper, and occasionally the convenience.
She liked feeling the bulge of the diaper especially. Rubbing her hands over it while staring in the mirror, sucking on her pacifier became a regular activity before changing. Unless it was close to bedtime, in which case she more than once fell asleep to her own rhythmic rubbing and sucking, while imagining the praise Mason would give her. What a good girl she was for messing her diaper.
Without really meaning to, over the next few weeks Anna’s mom got her wish and toilet cleaning became entirely redundant.

When on one wet Tuesday after school, for the first time, Anna filled her diaper on the walk home with Mel. Her first time out of the house. She paused mid stride, closing her eyes as she let out a load which left a notable bulge. As she waddled to catch up, the warm mush spread and settled against her backside as it squashed in her full diaper, unbothered that she had messed a diaper, her diaper, in public, in front of her friend. Mel caught her eye and Anna knew it was time.
Time Mason knew she was Anna the diaper girl.

So on the Wednesday free period, the next day, Anna psyched herself up.
“Just breathe deep. You can do this,” Mel said, rubbing Anna’s shoulders as if she were a champion boxer.
“Right!” Anna affirmed. She strode over to Mason and his usual group of littles.

“Mason Brooks!” she announced, turning all heads towards her. “You don’t know me. My name's Anna.” She lifted her skirt, revealing a big poofy diaper emblazoned with teddy bears. Anna bit her lip. The front of the diaper began to turn yellow as she felt the warmth spread through it. From the back her diaper began to expand as she let warm mush slide out of her and fill and sag. She grunted slightly before resuming, “And I’d like to ask you on a date!”
Everyone just looked at her.
Then, to break the silence as she dropped the hem of a skirt.
“But first, could I trouble you for a change?”
“Sure,” Mason smiled as his group looked on slack-jawed, “When can I pick you up?”
“For the change, right about now?” Anna winked, she grabbed him by the hand and practically skipped as she led him to the school's changing room to a soundtrack of Mel’s thunderous applause and whoops of celebration.
The End