Years ago, I was eighteen and in the hospital for a two week stay. My right elbow was in a large cast after a severe surgery, and numbing agents were coursing through my arm from a pump in my shoulder. Naturally I was pretty bed-bound, and when nature calls, the thing to do was go in a little plastic pitcher by the bedside. It had measurement on the side in milliliters, presumably to check that patients were staying hydrated. Not that it was difficult to stay hydrated, as I had a bag of mineral rich water running into my arm 24/7.
I had to pee a lot, given the circumstances. Being saturated with liquid made me restless, as I had to go bad but it was somewhat painful to reach over and grab the plastic pitcher thing. And if I reached over, I feared I’d break the seal and soak the spongy mattress I was on. It was early on the second morning, when I was a bit sleep deprived and high on the pain relievers they had on offer when I decided I just wouldn’t use the pitcher anymore.
I remember what it was like very distinctly–that first time I deliberately wet myself. I felt helpless, a little bit afraid, as the urine began to flow out of me and pool warmly around my naked butt. I immediately felt like an idiot–like I’d made a grave mistake. But, it was too late now. I sat in the silence, and thought about nothing else besides getting discovered for the mess I’d made. How shameful! As there was little to do in the hospital, there was not much else to do but sit there and wallow in it, like a filthy animal. I felt especially ashamed when I saw who’d came in to check on me that morning. It was a pretty girl–likely only a few years older than me! Quickly my eyes darted around vulnerably–I felt this great sad ache in my chest. What would she think?
“Hey, is everything okay? If anything’s amiss–let me know,” She said professionally as she rustled through some items on a cart near my bedside. I gulped, my words getting stuck in my throat–feeling the cold wetness I had come to regret.
“I uh–I” I stuttered.
“What’s up?” She said cutely. “Are you alright?” She looked closely at my vitals for a moment, seeing that my heart rate was through the roof.
As she said that, to my shame, I began to wet my bed again! Just a little this time, but the anxiety really made me need to pee. I was so caught, and such a baby to her…
“Um, my bed’s–uh–” I stumbled out.
“It’s what? Where does it hurt? Are you having an emergency?” She began to sound more tense as she reached to pull my thin blankets off. I felt the cool as my shame was exposed to her, and goosebumps rose vividly on my arms as I met her gaze meekly.
“Aww, that’s all? You had an accident?” She asked, knowing the answer.
“Yeah–I couldn’t reach the thing in time,” I said sheepishly, pointing at the plastic pitcher beside the bed.
“Aww, sweetie–” She trailed off, looking at me with a face that said embarrassed for me and motherly concern. “Don’t feel bad, lots of guys your age have accidents here,” she added, trying to ease my discomfort.
“Oh, well, at least it’s not only me,” I replied lamely.
“We’ll need to get you on a clean bed–here, let me help you…”
I laid listlessly as the nurse cleaned off my pee soaked bottom and laid me on a new bed. I looked up at the ceiling, feeling chilly, as she went to fetch some new blankets for me. I felt anxious and exposed, laying there naked in the cold. Shivering violently, I let loose another small accident before I knew what was happening. I could only tell because I sensed something strikingly warm on my shriveled and almost numb private parts. Now, I almost wanted to cry, but I held it back as bravely as I could. Before long my nurse was back in the room with my blankets, and as I expected her eyes immediately darted to my shriveled genitalia. She knew… of course she knew.
“Uh–sweetie–” She said awkwardly, “You peed again–”
“I’m so sorry,” I replied, voice beginning to fail me. “I’m shivering so hard–” I added.
“No, don’t worry–it’s my fault then,” She cooed, throwing the blanket over me and tucking me in.
Before long she’d returned to my bedside again and placed a long plastic bottle on the table. In her hands she had what looked like a disposable diaper.
“I’ll think you’ll feel more secure if you wear this–” She said awkwardly, sensing my deep embarrassment. “It’ll be just like when you were little, it’s normal around here–”
“I dunno, I don’t wanna–” I replied in shock. Was she really going to make me wear a diaper? Like a big baby?
“Well I think you should–It’s up to you, but I don’t like dealing with leaks–I will have to get you on a second mattress now, and I don’t want any accidents…” She bit her lip. “Please?”
“Uh–Okay–I will…” I had to admit she had a point. Besides, I’d made the dumb decision to not use the pitcher, even if it was difficult. What was I thinking?
“Thanks a lot! You’re making my job a little easier–if only more of my patients were so yielding…” She fetched another mattress from nearby and removed my blankets, putting them onto the new bed. Before long I was shivering again, and the nurse had gotten to work unfolding my diaper and powdering the inside liberally.
“Can I get you to–roll to the side, that’s it,” She said, as she guided my bare hip up by force. I watched as she slid the brief up and under where my butt was going to lay. Next she wordlessly gave my hip a push so I knew she wanted me to lay flat again. To my shock she grabbed me and positioned my private parts downward before she fastened the four plastic tabs on brief snugly in place.
“That fits you perfectly,” She said.
I took a moment to reply, as I was somewhat unconsciously feeling out my new underwear. They were pretty bulky and tight, offering little room for anything to move around inside. They didn’t feel uncomfortable, they were kind of soft actually. “Thanks–how long do I have to wear this?” I asked.
“Well I’d really like it if you wore it for the rest of your stay. That way we don’t have to deal with any more wet beds…”
“But that’s like two weeks! You mean I have to pee my pants–”
“Pee your diaper,” she corrected smartly, “That’s exactly what it’s designed for. You don’t have to worry about it at all, no more anxiety about wetting the bed or anything.” She said positively. “Just think of it like a little break from the potty, it’s not a big deal. You can go back to the potty when you leave like nothing–”
I felt a little bit hurt by her infantile language. The ‘potty’? Really? I guess she was used to dealing with kids younger than me. “Fine, if it makes your life easier,” I replied somewhat bitterly.
“It makes your life easier too, sweetie. I know, you’re not a baby–you’re a big kid, diapers are for babies,” she replied. “But you’ll get used to them, they’re for adults too you know.”
“Not really,” I pouted.
“Yes really. That’s an adult diaper, you might not be an adult yet but you’re in adult diapers…”
Now I felt really hurt by what the nurse was saying, knowing that I was almost the same age as her. “I am an adult! What do you mean!?”
With that she lifted my covers and took a peek underneath. “And you’re already a little bit wet, too, so don’t give me any more sass. I was starting to like you, and now you’re giving me all this lip. It’s gonna be a long two weeks if you keep this up–I don’t want that.”
I was astounded. “I am? Wha–It doesn’t feel that way…”
“Well you’ll have to trust me, you can’t exactly get up and check yourself,” She replied somewhat on the defensive.
“Okay–” I took a deep breath and sighed. “I’m sorry–you’re right. Let’s get through this on the same team.”
“That’s the spirit!” She smiled warmly at me and I smiled back–I couldn’t help it.
“So in a few hours I’ll be back to check on you again, unless you ring for me, okay?”
“Okay,” I replied.
“Don’t feel shy about using your new underwear, no use holding it now,” She said. “Bye!”
“Bye!” I called back.
I watched the clock on the wall for a while and my eyes got heavier and heavier. Soon I was fast asleep.
I woke up with a start, as my nurse was back in the room, checking my diaper.
“How’s my sleepyhead?” She asked compassionately.
I yawned. “I’m alright, I guess.”
She leaned in close before whispering, “Your diaper isn’t that wet yet, so I’ll change you later.”
“Oh, okay,” I replied, half in a daze. It was then I felt some pressure on my bladder. It ached uncomfortably.
“Is there anything I can do for you?” She cooed. “Dinner won’t be for another few hours.”
“I really have to pee–” I blurted out.
“Use your diaper,” She whispered.
In the suggestibility of having just woken up, I could hardly resist, and released as if I was on the potty. Wait, why was I using that word now in my own thoughts? Anyway I let it flow out, I guess the potty was fastened on to me now. It was warm, but not really wet feeling, and oddly comforting. “Mm…That feels better–” I whispered.
I noticed she’d put my covers back over my groin, maybe to give me a little more privacy while I did the deed. Before long she undid my underwear and began to clean the wet powder and pee off of me. With another diaper fastened around me snugly, she tucked me in again and ran her hand over my hair.
“That better?” She asked, while gazing at me in a very disarming way.
“Yeah,” I said. “Thanks for changing me,” I added.
“You’re welcome, and very polite,” She replied warmly. “The potty isn’t that easy actually, you have to get your blankets off, get your underwear or pants down, and reach it and aim yourself before it goes all over stuff. I don’t know how anyone uses the bathroom around here…” She said, maybe trying to reassure me, but I was too relaxed to take issue.
“It’s hard for me I guess,” I replied shyly, feeling vulnerable, though at the same time pretty safe in her care.
“Yeah,” She cooed. “Imagine–you have to go pee-pee, and the feeling hits you so suddenly,” she began while playing with my hair some more, “What are you supposed to do? The feeling is so tingly and distracting, it’s hard to even remember where to go, let alone get your underwear down in time.”
“Pee-pee?” I smiled, almost about to laugh.
“It’s a very medical term,” She replied. “And sometimes I call diapers diapees to make them less scary sounding.”
“Well–” I began, searching for words. “Call them whatever you want to call them,” I replied warmly. Her accommodating attitude was beginning to rub off on me.
“Okay! Well, I’ll be back later, okay? Try to get some more sleep, and know your diapee is there to protect you.”
“I will,” I called as she made her way to the other side of the room.
How nice, I thought, as I positioned my head on my pillow and closed my eyes. I guess I could go for a nap…
I woke up around dinner time. I knew because I could smell steam wafting from a nearby tray. I felt a tugging at my waist and noticed my nurse was again changing my diaper.
“Afternoon, sleepy head,” She said. “Just changing you–you must have really had to go!”
“I didn’t know I did–did I go when I was asleep?”
“Awh–well maybe you did!”
I grabbed the apple juice and tried to open it while she was finishing up my change, but I spilled a little on my sheets.
“I can help you–wait a moment,” she said.
“Okay–” I put the juice back on the tray and felt her tugging my diaper’s tabs firm. It was then that I noticed she was struggling a little with getting an erection in there–must have been from when I was asleep.
“There we go–all done,” She said in a sing songy way.
“It’s hard not to make messes with drinks too,” She said, holding the apple juice to my mouth. “Drink.”
I did as she said and drank. It was nice to get cared for so much. As I sipped I felt a small pang on my bladder and let the pee flow into the potty. I couldn’t help smiling up at her.
“Your heart rate is so steady and calm now,” She said. “I bet you feel safe.”
“I do,” I replied.
“That’s why I’m here. I don’t think you could take care of yourself right now.”
“Yeah, I can’t even go potty on my own,” I joked.
She gave me a motherly look, and started feeding me the rest of my dinner. “Open up wide for the toast!” She whispered excitedly.
I took a bite and laid my head back sleepily, chewing. I felt myself spurting out another small accident, but I didn’t concern myself with it.
“Good, good,” She cooed.
By the time dinner was over I could barely keep my eyes open. I swear I felt a kiss on my cheek as I fell into a dream.
I was back home again, and I felt a pang on my bladder. I looked around for a moment, unsure what to do or where the bathroom was. I couldn’t go in my underwear! I was reminded of what my nurse said about how hard it is to go to the potty, so I went upstairs and looked around for the bathroom right away. I didn’t want to disappoint her by wetting my pants. I was a grown up! Unfortunately, by the time I made it to the potty, I had already went pee… Though I wasn’t wet at all! I undid and took down my shorts curiously, and found I was wearing diapers still. But I was at home now, why am I still wearing these? Just then I saw the outline of my nurse in the doorway.
“Even big boys don’t make it–it’s hard going to the potty, I’m here–”
I laid down on a changing mat she rolled out and passively waited for my diaper to be clean again. I felt her tugging gently on my private parts when I awoke.
“Wh-wha?” I mumbled, noticing that my nurse was in the middle of changing me. I had a slight erection, which was a little embarrassing.
“How did you sleep?” She asked.
“Good, good. I had a dream about you, you were changing me.”
“I’ve been having to do that a lot lately, haven’t I? I guess you need my help, even in your dreams!” She teased.
“Yeah, I guess so,” I replied.
“Judging by how big you were when I took your diaper down–I thought, maybe you would have been dreaming about something–else…” She joked awkwardly.
“Nope, had to pee in my dream–that’s all…” I replied, feeling that joke was a bit out of line.
Soon my diaper was clean and I closed my eyes, trying to fall asleep again. I wasn’t sure what time it was, but it looked like the dead of night.
I woke up and the sun was out. My nurse was nowhere to be seen and I really had to pee. A part of me kind of wanted to use the potty, so that I didn’t get too used to wetting myself. Should I call for her? What if she was in the middle of something important? For ten minutes or so I thought it over as the pressure grew unbearable–I had to call for her! I called for her with a buzzer by my bed, and before long she was before me.
“How’re you? Can I help?”
“I need to pee!” I cried, squirming a little. “I can’t get too used to–”
“We’ve been through this–Use your diaper. You know that going to the potty is pretty tough, even if you didn’t have an injury,” she rambled, before repeating what she’d said before at some point. “First, you have to find a potty and then take down your underwear…not to mention you have to make sure your aim is good so you don’t pee on yourself or the floor… all of this when you have to go so badly, it’s really tough. Diapers, I get it–only babies wear them; you’re a big boy, but don’t worry–that’s why I have you in diapees–i know you need extra help and it’s our little secret…”
As she spoke I released my bladder and felt my diaper growing warm and puffy. I figured she wasn’t really willing to take off my diaper just to go the bathroom now. I was surprised how well rehearsed her speech about potties was. She must have had to give it a lot. Far from feeling like a punishment–like a wet bed was–this almost felt like a reward. here I was greeted with warmth, and the assurance of a diapee change at the end of it. Potties were kinda hard actually… She did have a point.
“Did you, go pee-pee?” She asked.
“Y-yeah–I couldn’t hold it anymore. You started talking about how hard it is to go, and I figured I’d just go,” I said.
To make a long story short, I ended up having to stay at the hospital for a couple more months due to an unexpected heart condition, which was made acutely clear to me when I’d doubled over one morning after a seemingly harmless cup of tea. Throughout the rest of my stay there, I remained in diapers–though at one point I tried to go off of them for a week. I ended up having a couple of accidents even though my nurse took me to the toilet at least five times a day. I’d even wake up in the middle of the night desperate to go, and would wet myself shamefully before she could even get me out of bed. Eventually, she had this to say:
“You’re always getting up to go to the bathroom at night, and you go pee-pee like seven times in an afternoon. I could have you in diapys all the time again–it’ll take all this potty pressure off you–”
“I know, but–I don’t want to get so used to wearing them, that I start peeing myself totally unconsciously, you know? I think that’s already starting to happen–I’m worried…”
“That’s true but I know you like to wear them anyway.” She said. “Plus I get to change you!”
“I’m noticing too that your bladder is starting to shrink a bit, that’s probably why we’re always going to the potty together.”
“Yeah,” I yawned and stretched out in bed. As I did, I felt an unpleasantly familiar ache in my lower belly. I did kind of wish I could just let it free into my diapers again.
“So should I get your diaper on?” She cooed.
“Hmm–okay.” I replied.
Soon she had me fastened into a clean and crinkly brief, which, before long, was beginning to sag heavily under the weight of a number of small accidents I’d forgotten having only moments after the last dribble of wetness was wicked away.
So the last few days of the stay had arrived, and my nurse wanted to try getting me to go to the potty, in preparation for going home. Unfortunately it wasn’t going so well. By now, I had even gotten used to pooping in them, knowing a change wasn’t far away anyway. I was getting accustomed to their convenience, and was unexpectedly hesitant to give up my diapers for the potty, as odd as that would have sounded to me months ago. When she tried taking me to the toilet earlier that morning, I ended up using the sagging diaper hugging my tush as usual. I wasn’t even able to stand up before the flood gates opened…
“I don’t want to, please!” I replied.
“Well, let’s just try your old boxer shorts for a little while–”
“No–I’ll just wet myself,” I replied meekly.
“Hmm?” Her pitying gaze steadied on my exposed and very dirtied diaper.
“I already had an accident, just since I woke up–”
“I know you can make it–don’t be silly. Diapers won’t make you incontinent if you wear them for long periods, that’s just a myth. I have to wonder who would want to believe that anyway–now, I’ll make this easy for you. Let’s clean you up and I’ll slide your shorts and jeans on before we make our way to the check out desk.”
And with that she got quickly down to business wiping me clean and pulling my old underwear up around my hips–they felt baggy and paper thin which tickled me slightly as I sat up and looked at my nurse. She was such a cutie, and looking at her pretty locks and warm brown eyes was getting an instinctive arousal stirring. Something about the tickly, open feeling of the boxer shorts seemed to be helping this along. Soon I was fully erect, and I felt a hard throbbing that I realized wasn’t possible when firmly fastened in a diaper.
“That’s a nice boxers tent–” she teased, her gaze only making me more excited. “Let’s get these jeans on–” she added. every slightest movement seemed to make me feel like bursting as she reached into my underwear and tucked my erection into the waistband of my pants.
I realized then that I hadn’t came in months. I was aching for release.
“I am really aroused right now–I’m sorry, could I take care of it in the bathroom?” I pleaded.
Wordlessly she began to stroke me with a chilly wet wipe, the same wipes she’d used over the previous months when changing each and every diaper.
“I know you’re aching for release–we want that thingy to dangle down freely in his new undies, no awkward hallway boners for my favorite patient…”
It only took seconds for me to throw creamy ropes that rained all over the hospital bed and myself. My nurse stifled a giggle before cleaning me off with more wipes.
Soon she had my jeans on and I stood up with her help, ready to face the check out counter, hopefully retaining my bladder’s contents and my dignity. I guess my body had other plans though, because I felt hot trails of wetness making little rivers down my legs and soaking into my jeans and socks before we’d even crossed the room together. I looked up at my nurse’s pretty face bashfully, but she hadn’t noticed my accident yet. Do I tell her before we enter the hallway? I had to!
“I’m so sorry–I already peed!” I cried out in a hoarse and defeated whisper.
“You what–” She looked at the little pee-pee stains on my crotch and then gazed into my eyes like she was staring at someone struggling with getting out of training pants. “You did–you’re all wet. My poor, poor boy. You really have lost control…”
I laid down again on the hospital bed as she got to work fastening a fresh pair of underwear on me. As I felt her pulling the puffy fabric around my crotch, a safe feeling came over me, a bit like the feeling of putting on thick socks after standing on a chilly tile floor for a while.
“I won’t make you wear boxers anymore… I know, potties are hard. You didn’t believe me at first! If you want me to give you some diapees to take home, I can, but you might have a hard time changing yourself. maybe I could change you there too?”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
"Well, Getting to know you these last few months, I have a little bit of a crush on you–you wouldn’t mind if we spent a little more time together would you?
“I w-wouldn’t at all! That sounds really nice actually…” I stuttered.
“So it’s settled, I guess you have a girlfriend now. It looks like you could use my special help too, of course…”
“I think I could,” I replied in quiet disbelief. Relief and joy washed over me as we began to walk down the hall together, hand in hand, and dribbling crotch in a much needed diaper once more.