glittermatters

Okay so, this is a slightly true account or something that happened to me two nights ago.

As most of you already know, I occasionally wear pull-ups and diapers because of little accidents here and there, but until a couple nights ago I hadn’t been without them and needed them at the same time.

I had spent the entire day with my grandmother, who is a boorish woman that constantly critiques me for being over-educated and under dressed. She knows that I have the occasional accident when I’ve had too much alcohol, or if I forget about going when I need to, but she never holds that against me.

It has been an extremely warm winter in Charleston(where my family is from), so I was wearing Nike Combat shorts and a tank top just to hang out in, and she tells me that I look like a bum(of course), and said a “southern woman should never leave the house in a sports bra.” I laughed it off and continued to tell her about my recent accomplishments in law school and the conversation finally started to steer away from my debutante shortcomings. Well, we had a couple mimosas(her favorite drink), and I needed to pee, despite me crossing my legs harder and harder. She kept going on an on, and I was having trouble getting a word in to try and excuse myself. After a few minutes I forgot about needing to go potty and we were talking about going shopping for a Christmas dress and dinner outfit for me. Then, I felt a little tinkle escape into my panties, so I jumped up and said that I really needed to go to the bathroom. After I peed, she asked if I was ready to go shopping. Before we left she asked if I wanted to wear a pull-up so I didn’t have any other accidents. I agreed because I was feeling a little tipsy, and knew I was bound to have an accident, and I didn’t want to deal with that in public.

My grandmother had a pack of pull-ups left over from a few years ago when I had stayed the week at her house, they were Dora the Explorer, yay. All I had to wear was the workout shorts I came over in, so I asked if she had a dress or skirt for me to wear instead. I have 4 sisters(all older), so I knew there had to be something here. She picked out this knee length lace skirt(it sounds hideous, but it was actually super bohemian and really cute)! Time to go to the mall. I hadn’t been out in a pull-up with my grandmother in forever, but it didn’t feel embarrassing at all. She asked me a few times if I needed to go potty, and that she didn’t bring an extra pull-up with her so, “be careful Nikki.” All was fine and I kept my pull-up dry for the remainder of the shopping trip.

After shopping with my grandmother, we met up with my dad, mom, and sisters for dinner at an outside mall type thing with restaurants and shops. I had about three vodka-sodas with lime and I was officially, “crazy Nikki!”. I was jumping around and dancing like no one was watching. My sisters and I were getting along(which is a rarity), and my dad wasn’t even upset that I was drunk, it was an incredible night! About 10pm when we were leaving I forgot that I was wearing a pull-up, but I sat down in my moms car and felt a big squish. Ugh! I told my mom to hurry home because I put on a pull-up at grandmas house and it was wet and gross. She said, “well I’m glad you had it on tonight, then.” My sisters laughed and kept trying to squeeze my pull-up. I literally had no idea that I wet it, but it couldn’t have been much because it wasn’t sagging too much when I got out of the car.

As soon as we got home, my sister Natalie picked up my skirt to confirm that I was padded and shared a laugh with my other three sisters. I got upstairs and took it off, and laid in bed.

My parents and my sisters know that I can’t have a dry night in bed if I’ve been drinking so I normally have goodnites in my room, but I was out. I hated this. The one time I actually needed a pull-up, and I didn’t have one.

I texted my oldest sister(who owed me a favor for covering for her and her boyfriend over thanksgiving break), to go to the store and get me goodnites. After a minute of complaining she left for the store.

I must have fallen asleep ten minutes later because I was tired and tipsy. Even with my small little bed at my parents house, it felt like a cloud to me!

I passed out and woke up at 7am, and I had a felt a little wet. I knew I had a small accident. I was wearing sweat pants and panties so it barely soaked through to the bed, but it was 7am and I was hungover, and it was the last thing I wanted to deal with. Luckily, I heard the maid upstairs and asked her to change all my bedding and clean up. Everyone was still asleep, and that’s all I wanted to be doing. I saw the pack of goodnites sitting by my door, so I put one on and crawled in bed with my older sister.

Much like this silly little girl here—many of you flirt with the idea of turning your back on your dignity. You rub and hump and drip and squirm to the thought of renouncing your feminist ways and becoming a degraded little diapered dolly for a depraved Daddy Dom.

How delicious!

How blushy!

How tingly!

How…oddly liberating!

But what you may not realize—and what is absolutely true—is that every time you make your pathetic cummies to the thoughts of humiliating forced infantilism scenarios, every time your silly little girl brain with pictures and videos of demoted-to-diapers little darlings (imagining you in their place), and every time you wrap your tingly, drippy little cunny in thick, bunny soft Pampers, caressing and rubbing against your most sensitive, baby smooth princess parts, you are playing with fire…

That’s right! Every time you indulge in your perverted, pathetic little toddler fantasies, you take one proverbial step toward making them a reality. The cog of manifestation clicks one notch forward; a notch that you cannot undo. Before you know it you may be subconsciously seeking out the powerful and sadistic Big who can make your darkest fantasies a reality. Not too long after that, you may find yourself glancing up in shock at the never ending parade of humiliations, discipline, and punishments your life has become—your pride and adulthood a distant memory. You may cry in shock and frustration at the inescapable nature of your new reality—a world dominated by diapers and embarrassing baby treatments. You may shutter and quake with an earth-shattering orgasm as you realize everything you have up along the way—your maturity, potty training, the respect of your friends, every semblance of freedom and responsibility—all to potty in your pants and have every facet of your life controlled as if you were a real infant. But the truth is you are something FAR more pathetic and loserly. You are a girl who let her perverse desires overtake her reality.