Baby Bailey Bruhn – Chapter Eleven – Back to School
The summer passed. Berkley became visibly nervous as the weekend preceding her return to school began. Her mom had bought her clothes that were somewhere between childish and adult in nature. Among them, the ones she liked best were a couple of pairs of denim jumper shorts, which were baggy enough that her diapers wouldn’t show, even when wet.
What was making her really nervous, however, wasn’t that her diapers might show; she was sure her new clothes would prevent that, it was that she might have to do more that pee while at school. It wasn’t uncommon for her to go number two during the school day; an issue made no more comforting by the thought of school food, which never sat right with her.
To make matters worse, she’d gotten so comfortable with being able to go to the bathroom whenever and wherever she wanted that she never gave it much thought. Sure, she took into account whether or not she’d be able to get changed soon enough to prevent a rash, but that was one of those things that might slip her mind if she didn’t concentrate on it, and she had to be honest with herself, concentrating on anything at all in school was incredibly difficult.
She knew she’d mess herself at school eventually, she’d known it since she’d been told she’d be spending an entire year in diapers, but, “eventually” had always been somewhere far down the line, what seemed years and years away, but now school was just around the corner. She’d meant to give some thought to how she might cover up the smell or prevent it all together. She’d read stories of people taking some form of pill or vitamin or something that would make their poop not stink, or at least less potent, but she didn’t even know if those things really existed, or if she could get her hands on some.
It was with graver implications still that she realized she’d been on the verge of messing her diaper while these thoughts ran through her head. She did it anyways, seeing as she couldn’t very well go anywhere else, and continued thinking. Try as she might, however, she couldn’t think what to do. Her mom had bought her some plastic panties in case of leaks, and had even sewn some thick, flannel-like material into the crotch of her jumpers for added protection. All these precautions, on top of her diapers gave her a noticeable waddle, but she was sure she’d be able to walk normally enough to get by, albeit a bit bowlegged.
As she finished filling her diaper for the third time that evening, less than thirty-six hours before she’d be back at school, she resolved simply to not let herself mess at school if she could avoid it at all. It was a simple plan, and that was what made it so terribly nerve-wracking. She’d spent years thinking around corners and was quite good at it, and if there was one thing she knew, it was that plans that should be simple were always the ones most likely to fail.
Several hours later, she went to sleep; later than she should have, but much earlier than usual. She regrettably couldn’t get onto her computer to browse more stories before going to bed, as her mom had insisted she be in bed by eleven, so she could adjust her sleep schedule. The next night she’d be in bed even earlier, maybe by ten, so she could be up at six and at school by seven.
The next day, the last day before school started up again, she woke up at 7:30am. She’d slept a little more than she intended to, but not by much. She intentionally messed herself, filling her diaper as much as she could before asking her mom to change it. She would try her hardest to make it until 3:30pm without messing herself. It would be a bit different than in school, because there would always be that voice in the back of her mind telling her, “It’s ok to mess; you’re at home.”
She’d made it the full eight hours, but only just. She knew that by the eight hour mark on a regular school day, she’d just be getting home after the long walk from school, and realized just how badly Berkley must have needed to go that afternoon she’d condemned Bailey to pseudo-babyhood. With a heavy sigh, she waddled her way downstairs and asked her mom to change her. Asked wasn’t quite the right word, however, because her mom didn’t always respond to her needs, evident as they might be, unless Berkley cooed at her and tugged at her mom’s shirt, like the baby her diapers made her to be.
That night, she didn’t mess before bed, though her bowels were already groaning somewhat. When she awoke in the morning, she’d barely returned to consciousness, and registered the alarm clock blasting her favorite rock songs at full volume, when her bowels let loose, filling her diapers with a mixture of solid and semi-solid muck. She almost began to cry, which was how she sometimes had to call her mom to change her. Her mom would sometimes scold her and sometimes say nothing if she let herself out of the crib that had taken place of her bed a few weeks ago. Crying wasn’t necessary today, however; before she’d even finished filling her diaper, her mom threw open the door, opened the crib door and was tugging her by the hand down the stairs.
Berkley hopped up onto the changing table, and her mom immediately went to work with the wipes, powder and even a bit of baby oil, which she’d never needed to use before. Within two minutes, she was re-diapered, dressed in her favorite pair of denim jumper shorts, and on her way back upstairs to grab her backpack.
On her way out the door, her mom pulled her aside once again and told her that she’d stop by the school during her lunch hour to see if she needed changed. She then advised Berkley that if she needed to mess, to try to wait until lunch, so she could change her immediately. Berkley nodded, though what she really felt like doing was singing, as this was the best news she’d had in weeks, and ran out the door.
When she arrived at school, Berkley realized for the first time just how self-conscious she felt. She felt her hair, making sure it wasn’t in the baby-ish pigtails she’d worn on her only trip out all summer. Her hair was down, as she had truly known it would be. Perhaps all the odd stares she was receiving were in her head, perhaps she was simply imagining them.
Perhaps, but she didn’t think so. No, there were definitely more people looking her way than average, though nobody said anything. This was high school after all; nobody talked so somebody they didn’t know. This thought offered her even less comfort, as a good many of the people staring she had known, they had been her friends, or at the very least, her acquaintances.
The reason people had been staring at her didn’t become evident to Berkley until midway through her second class, when she noticed one of her pacifiers was hanging from a string around her neck. She tucked it in as quickly as she could, cursing herself for not remembering to take it off when she woke up. In the last few weeks, she’d taken to going to bed with a pacifier popped in her mouth; a decision she was now regretting. She hoped nobody in this class had noticed, as there were a couple of good looking guys in that particular class, one of which sat just two chairs away from her.
Luckily, she heard no whispers and saw nobody staring at her in that class, which eased her mind a bit. This brief reprieve was cut short however, as third period rolled along, and most of the way through the class, she felt her bowels groan. The feeling wasn’t too strong, but Berkley was well aware that she’d never been really good at holding it in. Admittedly, she had never pooped her pants on accident before, but that was because she always knew to go to the bathroom. That was no longer an option for her, unfortunately.
By the end of fourth period, Berkley wasn’t sure she could wait anymore, but she held on. Fifth period, she fought both the urge to mess herself, and the urge to squirm uncontrollably in an effort to keep the worst from happening. If she could just make it until the end of this class, she would be home free. She could mess herself as soon as the bell rang, and would be able to get it changed immediately.
She wasn’t gassy in this particular case, but she could feel her body trying to rebel against her. Toward the beginning of class, she’d gone to let out what she thought was just some harmless gas, only to let a small chunk of poop slip on out. She couldn’t smell it right off the bat, though she was sure she must be blushing furiously. A few minutes passed before the smell finally permeated her many layers of padding and plastic. It wasn’t a powerful smell, and nobody but her would notice it unless they stood right beside her and took a deep whiff.
Despite the small amount of relief the small accident had given her, her bowels were still insisting that they be relieved. Berkley managed to keep it together until the bell rang, at which point she stood up and threw her backpack over her shoulders, and immediately began filling her diaper. She tried not to look too satisfied or too embarrassed, lest somebody start asking questions. She felt the contents of her diaper shift, not unpleasantly, as she walked. She was hardly aware that her backpack, which hung low on her back, kept tapping against the seat of her diaper.
Berkley had to do some quick walking to avoid being seen by a couple of friends she’d yet to talk to since the start of summer. She was nervous somebody might smell her and catch on to her predicament. In class, her small accident had gone more or less unnoticed, but her distinct waddle, coupled with the overpowering smell radiating from her pants would be more than enough to give her away.
At last, she reached the front door of the school, and saw her mom’s car. She stepped outside and waddled over to it. Her mom motioned for her to hop in, and she didn’t hesitate to comply. They circled around back of the school where the teachers and school buses were parked, and Beth got out.
Beth opened the trunk of the car, and motioned for Berkley to lie down. This wasn’t quite what Berkley had been hoping for, but she knew it was at least semi-private; this was more than could be said about the school bathrooms, where many of the stalls had broken, missing, or poorly aligned sliding locks, and anyone could walk in on you.
Berkley lay down, just as her mother had asked. She blushed slightly as her mom slid her jumper off and undid the tapes of her diaper, exposing her secret place to the public momentarily. Within minutes, however, she was cleaned up, re-diapered, and dropped back off at the main entrance. Luckily, her school was pretty lenient about students going out and coming back in during their lunch time, or she’d have needed to go the rest of the day in a messy diaper; at least until ten second into her sixth period class, when somebody would immediately notice that the girl who walked like a baby also seemed to smell like one.
Berkley’s last two classes went by reasonably well; a couple of her friends from last year were in her sixth period class, and one of them had even noticed she was walking strangely. Berkley had passed it off as having hurt her hip over the summer, and hinted that it might remain tender for a long time. She wasn’t sure how long she’d be able to keep this lie going, but hoped her friends would simply take her at her word and let it go.
After her final class let out, Berkley walked home. There was a bus that would have dropped her off several blocks away from her house, but she never rode it. There was a reason for this; in the time it took for the bus to finally get to her stop, after all the others, she could have easily walked. In addition to the saved time, Berkley wasn’t exactly thrilled about the prospect of sitting in such close quarters in her situation.
Before she’d gotten home, she’d paused momentarily and relaxed her bladder one more time; relishing the warmth that spread rapidly between her legs. She sighed, smiled, and walked the rest of the way home. She half hoped her mom would be home, so she could get put in a fresh diaper, and half hoped her mom would be gone, so she could enjoy her newly wet diaper for just a little while longer. Perhaps she’d just slip on inside and hope her mom didn’t check her diaper. Even as she had this thought, however, she knew her mom would likely check her diaper as soon as she got home, as well as change her diaper and outfit.
Berkley was therefore unsurprised when she walked into her house, and her mom immediately checked to see if she needed to be changed. First, she had Berkley remove her jumper, then tugged at the rim of her diaper, checking to see if she had messed. Berkley knew she wasn’t messy and thus didn’t think much of it. She did, however, try to shrink away when her mom wriggled her right index finger into the leg-hole of her diaper. She received a small smack on her padded posterior and allowed her mom to proceed with the diaper check.
Beth withdrew her finger, looked at it, rubbed it contemplatively against her thumb, and hesitated. Finally, she told Berkley that her diaper wasn’t too soaked, and that she’d change it in either a few hours or the next time Berkley messed. In the meanwhile, she told Berkley to change out of her school clothes, and back into her baby clothes.
Berkley didn’t want to argue; she relished the feeling of a wet diaper. To her, it was almost like being a real baby again. She knew, of course, that she was not a real baby, and never would be again, but this feeling was as close to the real deal as she was likely to get. To her, a wet diaper was a sign of lost control, not just over her bladder, but over all the things that bugged her about life. To some, this lack of control might seem frightening, but Berkley was all too happy to hand the reins of her life over to others, who were more willing and capable of taking control than she was.
After she’d had her diaper checked, Berkley did as she was told and went to the living room, where she saw a change of clothes folded neatly on the changing table. She picked up the top article of clothing, and smiled. It was a purple t-shirt with a picture of a red-haired mermaid in a purple shell-bikini top, swimming alongside a yellow fish. She took off the shirt she was wearing and slipped on the shirt with the mermaid on it. She then grabbed a pair of purple ankle socks off the table and put them on as well. There were no pants on the table, which was fine by Berkley. She liked for her diaper to be exposed; it allowed her to see it, and allowed her mom to be able to visibly assess the damage she did to it.
She removed her jumper, wondered if her mom had intended her to keep wearing it, and shrugged her shoulders. The jumper was semi-babyish, but adults wore jumpers sometimes as well. She figured that if she really wanted to look and feel like a baby, jumpers would have to serve as a choice of clothing only when she needed to make a trip out in public. For all other times, she would either wear nothing over her diapers, or a onesie. Perhaps she might wear something warmer during the winter, but that was all.
She then went back upstairs, pulled the pacifier stung around her neck out of her shirt, popped it in her mouth and locked herself in her room. She then sat down at her desk, pushed the power button of her computer, and waited for it to start up. When it had loaded, she began browsing her favorite sites again, most of which were story-based, while many contained pictures. These sites were usually adult-oriented, so she shouldn’t even be browsing them, but she didn’t go there for sexual reasons, she went there to read.
The End of Baby Bailey Bruhn – Chapter Eleven.
If you want to read more stories about ABDL girls you can find a list here: Diaper Girls – Index
The story originally came from: https://www.dailydiapers.com/content/stories.html