You Almost Wet Yourself on the Train

I posted this on AO3 a few weeks back and thought I should share it here. I have a few other things as well, but I won’t spam the lot in one go. If you want, feel free to check my AO3 stuff out.

Some other tags: 2nd person, reader insert.

You Almost Wet Yourself on the Train

Part 1

You squirm, clenching your thighs together.

You can’t ignore it, as much as you wished you could. If you did, an accident was inevitable. Instead, you had to focus on it, focus on not giving in to your aching bladder.

It was stupid, really. You knew you should have gone to the bathroom before leaving school, but one of your friends had chased you down and when you next checked the time you realised you were going to miss your train home if you didn’t book it. When you got to there to see the train literally rolling into the station, you noticed the warning your bladder gave you. But you didn’t have a choice, so you got on, sure you could hold it until you got home, or at least the stop you got off at.

As the train accelerated out of another station, it hit you how stupid you really were being. You could have gotten off here, found a public bathroom and be free of this misery, but you had told yourself you didn’t want to wait a full hour for the next train, but now you were certain you couldn’t delay this inevitability.

So, you promised yourself you would get off at the next stop and find anywhere you could go, before you wet yourself. It seemed life had other ideas though.

“Due to line upgrades,” the automated voice said over the loudspeaker, “this train will not service the stations of …” You paled as it listed off the next station, and then the next, and the three after that. It still serviced your station, but that was seven stops and a full twenty minutes away.

You looked around the cabin, your panic sharply rising. The train was empty except for yourself and a motherly looking older girl, but these trains didn’t have bathrooms in them. If they did – well – you wouldn’t be in this situation.

As your eyes found the end of the train, a better idea that wetting yourself or peeing on the floor came to mind, but you were sure they locked those doors now. With no other choice however, you gingerly got up, concentrating to not let anything escape as you did so, and shuffled walked to the end of the carriage.

Your panic rose again as you tried the doorhandle between the carriages only to find it locked. You remembered when you were younger and you could walk between carriages, but they’d started locking those doors a few years back so only staff could do it. Still, you had hoped.

Now, your only choice was to hold it.

“Do you need some help, sweetie?”

It would have been hard to miss the almost scared expression on your face.

“No –” You stopped mid-sentence.

You were increasingly coming to the conclusion how stuffed you were if you didn’t come up with something right now, and the embarrassment of admitting you weren’t much better than a little girl who desperately needed to use to potty was far less than that.

“I – I need to use the bathroom,” you admit in a strained whisper.

If it weren’t for the fact you knew it would lead to you wetting yourself in your seat, you would be crying right now.

“Aww,” she cooed sadly.

Maybe if this were any other scenario you would have reminded her you weren’t four years old, but it was hard to do that between your aching bladder and the very little girl-like situation you found yourself in.

The other girl stood up and looked down the train for something before humming curiously. As she sat back down, she picked up her bag and placed in on her lap. The bag was slightly odd, quite boxy with a single messenger-bag like strap.

“I’ve got an idea, and it’s probably for best if you’re sure you can’t hold it,” she said kindly, a comforting smile on her face.

You nod, willing to accept any ideas at this point.

“I’m a babysitter, and one of the little girls I look after still need nappies sometimes.” The dread returned as you realised what she was going to suggest. “She’s just a little bit smaller than you, but I’ve got my nappy bag here and her nappies will fit you.”

You wanted to ask what girl your age still needed nappies, but you couldn’t deny you were the smallest girl in your year. It wasn’t like you hadn’t hit puberty, you even had a bra to prove it, but that didn’t change the fact you were really short… it also didn’t change the fact you really needed to find a bathroom. Besides, the girl probably meant a pullup, and you were sure there were some kids your age that still had trouble with bedtimes.

“N-no,” you say, but the words sound foolish even to your ears; you had to go.

The babysitter’s smile softened though.

“It’s okay, sweetie. I won’t make fun of you; lots of boys and girls have accidents, not just the very little ones, and nappies will help you avoid this accident.”

You could feel your eyes wetting in shame, but you had to give in, this was far less worse than the alternative. You gave the older babysitter a nod.

“Aww, don’t cry, sweetie,” she said with a tinge of sadness.

You did as she asked and tried to hold it in, to stop this from being more embarrassing as this already was.

The babysitter though looked you up and down.

“Hmm, it’s a good thing you chose a skirt, today, isn’t it?” she said, unzipping her bag. “Lie back across the seat for me.”

Lie back ? Or maybe she really didn’t mean a pullup. But still, there was no option now, so you did as you were told, lying across the three seats that made up a row.

You could see the older girl remove a pastel pink nappy from her bag and unfold it. She set the nappy on the seat across from you before giving you another comforting smile.

“Now, we’ve just got to get your undies off, okay?”

You nodded back, your thighs still clenched together, before the older girl pushed up your skirt. You weren’t sure you would be able to hold it when you parted your legs, but you had to try. Thankfully, the older girl didn’t object as she tugs at your underwear and you only had to unclench very slightly to slip them past your thighs, over your knees and then your shoes. She set them aside before grabbing the nappy and unfolding it.

“Lift your bum, sweetie,” you said.

You concentrated on not letting anything escape as you did so, but for a moment you swore you felt a little dab of cool wetness trickle down as you did so.

“Now, I know it’s hard, but you’re going to have to relax so I can get the nappy on you,” she said kindly. “Don’t worry about any little spurts; I’ve already gotten the nappy under you so don’t worry about those little accidents; that’s what the nappy is for after all.”

Concentrating hard, you let the girl push your legs apart. You pull in a breath sharply as you feel a single, quickly spurt escape you. Your eyes start watering again in embarrassment.

“See?” she commented as she pulls the nappy up between your legs. “Your nappy caught it all.”

Your nappy .

You stare up at the ceiling and nod. The older girl happily hums as she tapes you up securely. There’s something comforting about the sound and the action.

“There, all done!”

You look down, the girl is giving you a wide, comforting smile. As she stands up she her hand out to you. You take it and she carefully pulls you upright. Self consciously you adjust your plaid school skirt so it covers your nappy.

“You’re all good to go. I guarantee a wet nappy is way better than holding that .”

You know and your bladder is screaming at you, but it takes everything to tell your body to let go when your brain is telling you that you’re not on a toilet and you’re wearing something around you crotch. Noticing your hesitation, the older girl takes the seat next to you, putting her arm around your waist in a sideways hug.

“Would you like some help?” she asks.

You glance up at her, a strained expression on your face. You nod.

You’re suddenly surprised when she slips a hand under each armpit and – with surprising strength – picks you up. You soon find yourself straddling her lap as she pulls you into a hug. At the sound of flowing water, you realise a torrent of pee is leaving you and your nappy is filling. It’s too much and you burst into tears before the older girl pulls you close and your cry into her breasts.

It’s a strange and confusing set of feelings. On one had, this is utterly humiliating, but on the other, your bladder is crying out in relief. It’s weirdly one of the best things you have ever felt and keeps feeling better as the stream of pee keeps coming. At the same time, this older girl – whose name you don’t even know – is being incredibly kind and caring.

She’s slowly bushing your hair with her fingers as she hugs you comfortingly, the flow into your nappy now ebbing. It feels heavy on your hips, but it’s secure and hasn’t leaked. You relax in her arms for several minutes before you feel her shift and her hand pats your bottom. You can feel the swollen nappy move as she does so.

“Wow, it’s a good thing you had your nappy on, isn’t it sweetie?”

You sniffle and look up at her with a small wet smile. Maybe if it had been any other day you would be put out by her tone and words, but this girl had been way too kind to you despite everything. So, you give her a small, embarrassed nod.

“Aww, and you feel heaps better now, don’t you?”

You sniffle, brushing your wet nose with the back of your hand before nodding.

“Oh my!” she exclaims quietly.

You’re not sure what is going on as she suddenly bounces you in her lap, an arm deftly slipping under your wet bottom as she stands up. Your arms instinctively go around her neck as she picks you up and you’re cuddling her again.

She doesn’t go far, picking up her nappy bag with her free hand before taking a seat again. You’re confused before she pulls out a packet of wet wipes.

“Close your eyes, sweetie,” she orders before she begins to clean your face.

You didn’t wear much makeup, but it did make you feel older, and it felt like it compensated for your small stature. But you were sure it looked a mess from all the crying, so you didn’t object as she removed it.

“So, what stop do you get off at, sweetie?”

You mumble it out, squirming in her lap. The wet nappy is warm and doesn’t feel bad, but it’s still a slight weird experience.

“Oh, really? That’s my stop too,” she replies. “I’m Elizabeth, but you can call me Liz if that’s too long.”

You blink at her for a moment before blushing in embarrassment, remembering it’s polite to give your name in return. She giggles.

“Well, I hope you don’t mind me calling you Sweetie .” She bops you on the nose with a finger.

It’s embarrassing, but Liz is so nice about it. So, you just got red in the face.

“O-okay,” you agree.

She smiles broadly at you.


No reason she couldn’t just squat over the nappy and use its absorbency without actually wearing it, but where would be the fun in that?

I think the ‘messing’ tag is typically used to indicate a little more than urination so maybe isn’t needed.

Nice little story, and thank you for sharing.

1 Like

I see it’s tagged as complete, but the header says “part 1” so I’m guessing there’s more.

As for the story itself. It’s pretty solid. Of course, as 2nd person stories go, they’re almost bound to fail unless they find the right audience. You pretty much have to be telling the story of how I dealt with the situation in order for it to register with me to any significant degree.
I can identify with many characters, but as few.

For me, inserting as this character is difficult. But that’s just me, so don’t take it as a negative response.
Just figured I’d mention that since you did a good job with this. Or should I say ‘so far?’

Yeah, it’s not finished. I tagged it as complete intending to drop all three parts at once, but my post needed to be approved first.

I understand your point about second person. I find I enjoy writing this sort of story more if it’s second person and struggle to keep writing in third person.

You Almost Wet Yourself on the Train

Part 2

Liz surprises you by putting on your backpack and then slinging the nappy bag over her shoulder. You get up unsteadily as the train decelerates into your station and as the train comes to a stop, she takes your hand.

As she helps you up, you squirm, feeling the warm swollen nappy between your legs, you can’t help but feel very small at that moment. It was nice though as she led you out of the train by the hand, carrying your school bag like you were a little girl again. It was comforting . She set a slower pace than you expected from a taller woman, perhaps aware that your nappy made you waddle slightly.

“Nappy still secure?” she asks you.

“Um – yeah,” you reply meekly.

You had wondered if it could possibly slide down, but with every step you take you feel more confident that Liz knows how to nappy a little girl securely.

“Are your parents waiting at home for you?”

You shake your head.

“No, they’re working. They won’t be home for a while.”

Liz hums in thought as you walk. You can’t tell if it’s idle or if she disapproves of it. You wonder if maybe she thinks your way younger than you really are and you consider voicing that, but then you think about the implications. If she thinks you’re younger then the embarrassment of acting like a little girl is less. You decide to let her keep thinking that.

You give her some directions and it turns out she lives only two streets over from your place. It’s a small world.

As you get moving though you can feel your bowels beginning to work. It’s not like you’re going to poop yourself like a toddler; you can hold it in for the fifteen minutes or so to home, but you are aware of it now and it just makes it more urgent to get home. Idly, you wonder how much this nappy could take and for a moment you can imagine it sagging.

Then, you realise it’s already pretty full and probably already is sagging. So, with your free hand you reach under your skirt and give the stretched plastic a feel and a poke. You can feel the two plastic edges of the nappy pulled tight over the line where your legs met your body and between them was the bloated core of that nappy that hung down a lot.

It makes you worry that it’s sagging enough to show past the hem of your skirt, so you nervously tug you skirt, trying to pull it down a fraction. It doesn’t do much though because it’s tight around your waist and won’t go down your hips.

“Something the matter sweetie?” Liz asks, having noticed your slightly slowed pace.

You blush at having been notice.

“Can – can anyone see?” you ask, leaving my nappy unsaid.

Liz gives you a comforting smile before squatting down. It puts her head around your shoulder height. Yours and hers hands are still connected, extended between you.

“Nope,” she replies after looking you over. “Turn around for me, sweetie.” You do so, your arm now extending behind you. “All good,” she declares.

You turn back towards her. Only after you do so does it occur to you that Liz actually checked to see if your nappy was visible. You can imagine most parents or adults just say no , but Liz actually checked. It’s strangely comforting to know that she really did care about your worries like that.

Realising just how nice she is makes you blush and you look away from her.

“Sweetie?” she asks. You turn your eyes back to her. “You don’t have to worry,” she tells you comfortingly. “ I won’t judge you for having your little accident – and I think you were a big girl for wearing your nappy, even though you thought it was embarrassing.”

“O-oh – thank you,” you reply shyly.

The babysitter’s praise makes you feel warm. You can actually feel your heart flutter.

“Want to know what else I think?” she asks, her voice dropping to a whisper. You nod. “ I think you look super adorable in your nappy, sweetheart.” Her words make you squirm, the wet nappy squishing between your thighs. “You don’t have to try to be a big girl for me; I like looking after little boys and girls like you.”

You’ve got a broad embarrassed smile on your face but it hits you suddenly that your eyes are beginning to water. It doesn’t take long for Liz to notice.

“Oh, sweetie,” she quietly cries with concern.

She reaches out with her free hand to brush a tear running down your cheek away with her fingers.

“I –” Your response is cut short by a sob escaping you. It makes your watering eyes go to a slow stream of tears. “I’m o-okay,” you tell her before she pulls you into a hug.

Liz makes soothing sounds as she rubs you back on the sidewalk.

“Thank you,” you say emotionally over her shoulder.


There’s a more confident spring in your step as Liz continues walking you home. You really can feel in your heart that she won’t judge you or think poorly of you because of what happened today. She’s just a super nice babysitter. It almost makes you wistful for the days of needing a babysitter, but you are in high school and could look after yourself for a night if your parents went out.

You can feel a discomfort in your bowel though. You still definitely won’t have another accident, but the first thing you did when you got inside was going to be getting your nappy off and parking your bum on the toilet. Not long after you could see you home.

“So, this is your place?” Liz asks as you slow.

“Yep!” you reply.

Though you sort of wish she’d walk you to the door or maybe even come inside to look after you until mum or dad got home, she only leads you about half-way up the driveway before your hand slips from hers. You’re not really sure what to say – you’re not really sure you can put how thankful you were to words. You’re also reminded that you can’t stand here putting the inevitable off for very long.

“Thank you,” you say earnestly. “For everything today.”

You fidget where you stand, slightly embarrassed today happened at all, to which Liz smiles back at you, a hint of sadness in her expression.

“It’s okay, sweetie. I certainly didn’t mind helping you out.”

She squats down again to slightly below your level. With only a slight bit of hesitation you hug her and she quickly returns the affection. Once you part, Liz remembers she’s wearing your school bag. So she shrugs it off and places it between you. There’s silence for several moments as she looks thoughtful.

“Have you got a phone, sweetie?”

You nod.

“Yeah,” you reply, squatting down to pull it out of your bag.

You unlock it and hand it to her, already guessing what she’s going to do.

“Now, I suspect you parents think you don’t need a babysitter,” she says, glancing at you home disapprovingly for a moment, “but if you do, you’re more than welcome to call me.” Suddenly, there’s something mischievous on Liz’s expression. She leans in conspiratorially, her voice dropping to a whisper. “I’ll even let your parents have my discounted rate because you’re clearly such a darling to look after.” She’s smiling cheekily. “ Some children can be very naughty, but don’t let their parents know I’m charging them more!”

She wiggles her eyebrows at you as you break out in giggles. You can barely breath before you’re shocked by another reminder from your bottom. You tense despite you continued giggles, telling your body to hold it. It’s not that urgent, yet , so you don’t have trouble stopping it. Liz doesn’t seem to have noticed as she gives your hand a comforting squeeze and gives you back your phone.

There’s another round of goodbyes before the babysitter disappears around the corner with a smile and a wave. There’s a moment of feeling very lost before you’re reminded that you really need to go to the toilet, so you grab your bag and head towards the door, walking as fast as you can without having another accident.

You hang your bag on one shoulder as you open up a side pocket for your door key, but find it empty. Frowning, you shuffle your bag around and check the same pocket on the other side to find it empty too. Then, a vague memory of something silver laying on the coffee table this morning as you left for school float though your mind.

You cringe, knowing that instead of putting right back in your bag after using it like you should have, you left it there yesterday after school. It’s not the end of the world though as there’s a spare key around the back. You used it a few times per month because you had a bad habit of leaving your key on the table and then forgetting about it.

So, throwing your bag back on, you go around the side of the house, open the gate and head towards the cluster of plant pots. Your mum had several dozen potted plants and you make a beeline to the distinctly shaped pony bottle tree. It had a large round root, a thin stem and a head of long, grass-like leaves.

Pushing it over slightly, you squat down, clenching as you do so to stop the creation of a mess, and look under the pot.

There was a beat and then your heart froze; there was no silver metal of a key. You mentally think it through, glancing at the plant pot in your hands to confirm that this was the plant the key should be under. Several seconds count down before you decide this is just a mistake and that you didn’t look properly, so you tug on the plant pot, dragging it from its spot and then peer over.

The only thing you see is the black mark on the pavers from where the plant pot had sat for several years.

Panic quickly rising, you decide to check some of the other pots. You start with the pot next to the pony bottle tree, pushing it over slightly and peering under. Then the next to no result. The next pot over is a bit to far, so still squatting, you stretch a leg o –

You pull the leg back in and immediately stand up, shock coursing though you. You clench, feeling the mess that almost escaped move inside you. It’s uncomfortable and you can feel tears wetting your eyes again. It’s really uncomfortable and you really need to go.

Dread fills you as you look down at the several dozen pots you need to look under and you begin to wonder if you should just… use your nappy for what it was designed for. But you shouldn’t… even with Liz’s kind words, you’re not that small… you think.

The dread swirls through your mind before another awful though occurs to you: what if they key isn’t here? It had been maybe two weeks since you used it. You might have left the key somewhere – anywhere.

There’s another painful clench and you sniffle, feeling like you might burst into tears again. You’re behind your house and – glancing around – you know that none of your neighbours have houses tall enough too see over the back fence.

Your nappy is already wet, it hurts, and nobody has to know… so you begin to think that maybe you should just go. You can use your nappy, feel loads better and then look for the key. And, if you don’t sit on it, you probably won’t make a huge mess; it will just… drop into your nappy.

It feels inevitable now.

With a slight bit of uncertainty, you step back from the pots, and slowly crouch. You find the action immediately lets a log of poop try to escape, but you instinctively clench again. The feeling is very uncomfortable as you squat fully and take a deep breath. A few tears of embarrassment running down your cheeks.

Committing, you begin to push. The first log of mess comes out very easily, but it feels like it goes on forever. Then, it cuts off and you feel your nappy bounce slightly on your hips as the poop lands in it.

There’s a several deep breaths as you feel your bowels move again and another log makes its way out. It doesn’t go far however, hitting an obstruction: the mess before it. You can’t stop though and you can feel it begin to spread. You can’t help but feel like a child as you mess your nappy and the embarrassment makes you sniffle.

Once that bit of mess is out you continue to squat there for a moment before deciding there’s a little bit more. It doesn’t want to come easily though and you strain slightly trying to expel it. A small whine escapes you as you feel it begin to move and then it’s finally out. You relax, taking a deep breath, and then you lose your balance.

Overbalanced by your school bag, you arm sticks out behind you to catch the admittedly short fall, but it’s not enough as your padded bottom hits the pavers. You can feel the mess suddenly spread forwards and backwards as a sob escapes you, and then you fully commit to crying as you sit there in your messy nappy.

It’s only a minute but feels like ages when you decide you need help and pull your phone out of your bag. Your fingers shaking, you call Liz.


You Almost Wet Yourself on the Train

Part 3

It hadn’t taken long at all for Liz to get to your home and you can hear her call out your name from around the side of the house. You’re not sure how to answer it though through your hiccupping sobs. As you hear the gate latch open, you know you have to say something.

“H-here,” you call out.

It sounds pathetic to your ears, but you’re surprised you managed even that given your face is streaked with tears, you’ve got your arms around yours knees and your messy nappy is smooshed on your bottom. You even managed to wet your nappy again while you were messing and didn’t even notice until you were crying over the phone. You avert your eyes, not sure you could look Liz in the face.

Oh sweetie, ” she says sadly.

You can hear her footsteps on the pavers and then feel as she crouches next to you before enveloping you in a hug. There’s a moment as you feel your lip quiver before the waterworks start again. You turn your face into her body and she pulls you closer. You end up in her lap again, only this time you’re still slightly side on to her.

As you cry into her top again, she makes soothing noises and runs her fingers though your hair.

“There, there, sweetie,” she says soothingly. “Messes are what your nappy is for. It’s okay you couldn’t hold it in.”

Face still planted on her chest, you nod at her words.

“Now we know it’s okay for you to go in your nappy, do you think you can put a smile on your face, for me?” she asked hopefully.

You hesitantly look up at her. Your breath still has a small hitch to as you breath, but you can give her a small, tear-streaked smile and a nod as you sniffle quietly.

“You’re even prettier when you smile, you know that sweetheart?”

If your face wasn’t almost certainly red and blotchy you knew you would have blushed at that compliment. Instead, all you can do is pleasurably squirm in Liz’s lap. You realise at this moment the nappy isn’t uncomfortable, just embarrassing.

“Can you tell me what happened?”

You nod again, thinking about your words.

“I – I couldn’t find my key,” you tell her.

Actually speaking the words, you can feel tears well up again. Liz takes both of your hands and squeezes them reassuringly as you sniffle.

“I –” you swallow. “I really needed to go s-so I tried to find the spare key b-but I-I couldn’t and I c-couldn’t –” you stop as a sob escapes you, tears running down your cheeks again.

Letting go of one of your hands, Liz pulls out a small packet of tissues and fishes one out. Se carefully dabs your tears.

“You felt better getting it all out of you, right?”

You thought for a moment and then nodded. It was obvious, you had even told yourself that was why you were… going in your nappy.

“See? Worrying about it is just silly.”

Embarrassedly, you nod in agreement.

“Yeah,” you breath.

“Good. Now, do you want some help finding your key? If we can’t find it, we can walk to my house and your parents can pick you up on the way home. How does that sound?”

It’s reassuring to know that Liz is committing to looking after you like this. You give her a gratefully smile before gingerly climbing out of her lap. She gets up surprisingly fast before helping you up. Still holding your hand, she brushes the dust off your skirt and legs. You can feel her hand brush over your nappy as she does so and you squirm slightly knowing she is very aware of your full nappy. To your thanks she doesn’t comment on it.

It’s a new experience to walk around with your full nappy, the mess moving as you move the pots around looking for the key. With the effort of so many pots, you go back to simply tilting them over slightly and looking under them. You barely thinking about your nappy until you hear a giggle. Low to the ground with your bum in the air, your skirt had ridden up over your nappy.

“Don’t worry about it,” Liz assures you, pulling your skirt over your nappy for you.

No longer worrying that Liz will think poorly of you for having a messy accident, you just give her a shy smile. Not long after you have to conclude the key isn’t here.

“I don’t know where it is,” you mutter frustratedly, your arms crossed across your chest.

“Hmm,” Liz hum.

Glancing at her, you can see her surveying the rest of the back yard.

“Could it be under some other pots?”

You frown.

“That’s – that’s not where it should be though,” you counter, sounding slightly lost. “It goes under the pony bottle tree.” You point at the pot plant in question to make your point.

“Someone could have made a mistake,” Liz comments.

You shift slightly, thinking it through. You can’t think of any reason why you would have put it anywhere else. You walk a straight beeline from the back door to this cluster of pots every time… unless you didn’t. It’s not like mum or dad use the key very often, and if you left it in the house one day one of them might have put it back in the wrong place.

You slump, feeling dejected. It was dumb and you felt you should have caught this way earlier.

“There, there. Everyone makes mistakes,” she consoles you.

You don’t oppose her as she hugs you again.

“Now, want to check a few other pots? If that doesn’t work, we can head to my place and get you cleaned up there.”

You nod as she smiles widely down at you.


Frustratingly, Liz had been exactly right. There was a large pot in the other corner of the garden that had a Madagascar palm in it. It looked kind of similar to the pony bottle, but there was no way you would have made the mistake, or mum, or even dad despite his only interest in the garden being showing off his lawn mower and other power tools.

Liz still had her nappy bag, clearly having not reached home when you had called, but she picked up your school bag for you on the way to the front of the house. Letting her into the foyer you suddenly felt very awkward and not sure what to do. Sniffing, you also realise the smell you were making now the breeze couldn’t blow it away.

“Sorry about t-the smell,” you apologise.

Liz replies with a small laugh and an affectionate roll of her eyes.

“I’ve smelt far worse than your poopie bottom, sweetie,” she replies with a hint of a tease. “It comes with being a babysitter. Besides, puke is far worse.”

You blush under her response, realising she’s probably right. You can imagine this could have been a lot messier and you suddenly find yourself glad that Liz knows how to securely tape up your nappy.

“Would you like a suggestion?”

Still not sure what to do, you nod.

“How about we get you some comfy clothes first, and then you can have a shower to get all clean? That way, you can jump straight into your comfy clothes.”

You only think about it for a moment before readily nodding. It sounded like a very good idea, so still carrying your bag and hers, Liz follows you to your room. She places your school bag on your bed as you look for some clothes, finding a pair of trackies. Next you look for a top, searching through your draws you spot that shirt.

It was huge – it was way to big for you – but it made for a nice pyjama top. You weren’t even sure where it come from. There was a problem though; it was pastel pink and just looked so babyish. You had avoided it around other people for exactly that reason, worried that your small stature and the oversized colourful t-shirt would make people think you’re really young… but, you were in a nappy , a messy nappy , and when Liz treated you like a kid you didn’t get frustrated or annoyed, instead you felt nice , it made you feel warm inside.

Deciding it was okay, you added the t-shirt to the clothes to change into.

“Got everything you need?”

You nod.

Liz follows you to the bathroom, stopping at the door.

“I take it you don’t want any help here?” she asks you.

You try not to squirm. A not so small part of you actually did want her to help you every step of the way. But that seemed like too much, and way too much to ask of Liz.

“I’m okay,” you tell her, trying to keep the regret out of your voice. Instead, you just sound small.

Liz smiles reassuringly at you, not showing any indication either way.

“Would you like me to make you some food while you’re in the shower? Sandwiches perhaps?”

“That would be nice,” you agree before wondering if you should help or direct her.

“Don’t you worry about it, I’ve been in loads of unfamiliar kitchens,” she replies, having read your face. “Just worry about the shower and I’ll have you some food when you’re clean and dry. Okay?”

You nod and push the bathroom door open.

“Oh, and don’t worry about the nappy. If you leave it there, I’ll put it in a nappy bag when you’re done.”

You give her an awkward nod and slip in.

Standing in front of the mirror for several seconds you squirm. Without your makeup, looking like a mess, and knowing there was a mess in your nappy made you feel really young. It’s embarrassing, but strangely it’s also kind of nice. You can imagine being looked after like this for longer… maybe.

Deciding you really should get on with your shower, you turn on the water so it can heat up before undressing. Pulling off your school shirt you then unhook your bra before dropping your school skirt to the floor. Whatever smallness you felt earlier doesn’t compare to seeing yourself in the mirror in a full nappy.


You’re wrapped in a towel in front of the slightly foggy mirror when there’s a knock at the door.

“Sweetheart? Mind if I come in?”

You’re wondering why for a moment when you remember Liz said she’s get rid of your messy nappy for you.

“Yeah,” you reply, trying to not sound embarrassed about it.

“All clean?” she asks with a momentary glance. “Feeling better?”


Liz doesn’t pay you any mind as you fidget in front of the mirror. She’s got her nappy bag with her and opens it up, pulling out a small, closable plastic bag. She quickly rolls up your messy nappy and places it in the bag before sealing it up and then double bagging it before placing it back in her nappy bag.

“I know you’re a bit embarrassed about your nappy,” Liz explains, seeing your confusion. “So, I thought I’d put it in my bin at home.”

“T-thanks,” you say gratefully. You didn’t even know where to begin explaining your accidents to your parents.

Standing up, Liz heads your way.

“I’ve just got to wash my hands, sweetie.”

You get out of the way of the sink for her, feeling slightly awkward as you wait for Liz to finish. When she’s done, she puts her hands you your shoulders and looks at you in the mirror.

“Now, there’s no need to be embarrassed, but would you like to have another nappy?”

It feels like your heart skipped a beat at Liz’s suggestion and you can feel your face heating up. You know you’re supposed to be big, to say no, but a part of you really wants to say yes before how you weren’t supposed to want a nappy quashes the feeling. Before you can stammer out a no however, Liz continues.

I think you should relax after such a stressful afternoon, and I think if you’re not worrying about all those things,” she says in a small voice to you.

Liz thinks it’s a good idea… and your resolve to say no, to be big wavers.

“O-okay,” you stammer out, a small, embarrassed smile on your face.


There’s far less embarrassment this time around.

You can feel the soft padding under you and hear the crinkle of the plastic as Liz pulls you nappy up between your legs and over you. It softly encompasses you as Liz’s careful fingers hold the front of your nappy to your stomach as she pulls the tapes over you.

“There, all snug and secure, sweetie,” she tells you, giving your belly a few soft pats.

You’re about to sit your self up when Liz holds up your t-shirt. You could dress yourself, but Liz seems determined to help you as she pulls your upright by the hand. Your towel falling away, you hold your arms up for the sleeves as she pulls your t-shirt over your head. Then she stands up, picking up your trackies as she goes, before pulling you to your feet.

“Now, hold onto me,” she says, holding the top of your trackies open for you.

You dutifully step into them and Liz pulls them up over your nappy before tying the cord in a bowtie for you and then pulling your t-shirt down.

“There, now you’re all ready to relax!”

Blushing slightly, you give her a thankful smile. The dry nappy is nice and feels secure, and it’s even nicer to know Liz wants to look out for you. She then directs you to the couch and places a plate with a tasty sandwich in front of you before turning on the TV.

Leaning comfortably against her, you find yourself enjoying the kids show playing. Normally you would be too self conscious about being seen as a little kid to watch something like this, let alone watch it around someone else, but your find yourself enjoying how easy and familiar it is, knowing that Liz wasn’t going to judge you.

As the show finished Liz got up and went to the kitchen. She came back with a big glass of water.

“Drink up, sweetie,” she told you.

You blink at her in surprise for a moment before deciding to just do as she asked you. You can’t shake the curious expression though when you finish.

“It’s good to see you’re not going to make yourself sick after your accident,” she explained. “ Some little girls and boys try to stop drinking after an accident.”

“Oh,” you reply. It made sense and you knew you had been slightly hesitant to ask for water yourself after your accident. “Thanks,” you say, realising you were probably a bit dehydrated. Asking for more, Liz got up and came back with a full drink bottle instead.

“Just in case,” she said as she takes a seat next to you again.

As you slowly nursed your bottle of water, Liz smiled before reaching over and patting your bottom.

“All dry?” she asked.

You nodded back with a small blush.

As the next show came on you laid down on the couch with your head in Liz’s lap. It’s near the end when you feel the pressure in your bladder. You can see you’ve drunk most of the bottle so it was inevitable, but there’s still the slight hesitation before actually using your nappy for it purpose. Still, it’s really comfortable where you are so with a few stops and starts you eventually manage to let the warm flow fill your nappy.

You had thought you were discreet about it, but as you finish Liz slowly brushed your hair with her fingers.

“You want a change?”

You weren’t sure how much it could hold, but you were sure it would be a bit more than this. It also didn’t feel bad. In fact, the warmth was a bit nice.

“I’m okay,” you say with a blush on your face and your eyes still on the TV.

Perhaps knowing your unasked question, Liz says “Don’t worry about leaks, little one; your nappy can last overnight if it has too. If you’re comfy you can stay in a wet nappy for a few hours.”

Comfortable and feeling drained for the hectic afternoon, you’re not surprised when a moment to close your eyes sees you doze off entirely.


You’re woken by movement.

Blearily opening your eyes, you hear Liz.

“Sorry about waking you,” she says quietly. “But I’ve got to go to the big girls room.”

Nodding in understanding you look about the lounge room. The TV is still on, but has been turned down to a whisper. It’s playing an older kids show, the ones you know come on before the news. With its school drama it quickly becomes tiring.

Noticing your bladder again, you wet your nappy some more. It’s not much, but with your nappy on you don’t see why you should bother holding it.

You move a bit on the sofa, trying to decide if you should just go back to sleep or wait for Liz to come back before doing so. But like before, the choice is taken out of your hands as you find yourself dozing off again. When you wake again the light in the loungeroom is on and it’s dark outside.

“– had a bit of an accident on the train,” you hear Liz say.

“Oh dear,” says another voice. It takes a moment before you realise it’s mum and she’s speaking to Liz in the hallway.

“I hear you take the train to work?” There’s a pause. “Well, she tried to get off to find a loo just as we hit the rail works.”

You can hear mum make a sympathetic noise.

As you sit up you can feel your wet nappy squish under you and suddenly remember the garment. Standing up, you take the fact you are alone to check yourself out. It doesn’t take long to realise your oversized shirt is a blessing and will certainly hide the bulge of your wet nappy. So, taking a few calming breaths you step into the hallway.

Mum’s still wearing her business clothes but is looking the wrong way.

“– I threw all her clothes in the wash as well,” Liz says before her eyes go over mum’s shoulder to you. “Hey, sleepy-head.”

You give her an embarrassed smile as your mum turns around. She quickly gives you a hug as you carefully try to keep your lower body from contacting her. When she steps away it’s clear she didn’t notice your nappy.

“Are you okay?” mum asks.

You give her a nod and a tired smile.

“Yeah – Liz helped a lot,” you reply quietly. You give Liz a thankful look as you do so.

Mum gives you a sad sigh.

“I know, that must have been awful.”

It was, but you also know it could have been way worse. It quickly occurs to you that Liz didn’t tell mum about the nappies and going by the fact she washed your clothes, mum must assume you peed over your skirt and shoes.

“Anyway,” says Liz. “If you need a babysitter, feel free to call me. I’ll even give you my best rates seeing how much of a breeze your daughter was to look after.”

Liz is holding out a business card to your mum which she takes.

“Ah – thank you.” Mum looks thoughtful for a moment before reaching for her purse. “Do you –”

Liz waves your mum off.

“No, it’s fine. Helping here was just the right thing to do.”

It goes back and forth a few times before Liz eventually accepts a fifty from mum.

“I think I’ll just go straight to bed,” you say.

Mum and Liz give you understanding smiles. You hesitate a moment before hugging Liz and muttering a thanks.


Teeth brushed, you head into your room and close the door. Liz left a few minutes ago and while you are doubtful mum will feel the need to get you a babysitter you find yourself hoping it might happen.

Still, now you needed to figure out what to do with your nappy. Part of you wanted to leave it on, but you’re not sure a wet nappy all through the night is a good idea. As you think, your eyes wander before spotting a piece of paper on your pillow. Realising it’s a note, you pick it up.

I thought you might want another for tonight.

I left you some bags. If you’re worried, feel free to drop them in my bin – Liz.

You hand shaking slightly, you lift your pillow to find a folded pink nappy and a few nappy bags underneath.

Realising it’s real, your shrug off your trackies and get a fresh, dry nappy on. You wish Liz was here to help, but it’s such a considerate thought from the babysitter that you can feel your eye water slightly.

In a clean and dry nappy, you slip into bed and quickly doze off.


There might be a sequel. We’ll see.


very good story. The second person writing is kind of interesting

Nice story. It is an good sequel to an exciting story. Hope to read it soon.

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Nice story, I can’t wait to see if a sequel comes along.

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Wonderfully refreshing storie!

Love it. Please write a sequel.

I find the reader-as-character style is a bit unusual, but it works. The pacing and storyline are great. Thank you for this!

4 posts were split to a new topic: My Babysitter Says it’s Okay!