🛏️ Constance Medical
Part 5: Explanations
⚠️ This is a work of fiction
⚠️ Reproduction and distribution prohibited
When I wake up, it's daylight outside and the birds are chirping in the garden. After opening my eyes and taking a moment to remember where I am, I realize that I am at Constance's house. It's only when I change positions that I remember I'm wearing a diaper.
However, I notice that it's not like at home, my diaper feels cold. I run my hand through my pajamas and remember what type of diaper I'm wearing.
There is no noise in the house and not knowing what time it may be, I decide to get up quietly, so as not to wake anyone if it's still early.
Once on my feet next to my bed, the curiosity to see what this diaper looks like teases me. I just felt the weight of my gear for the night drop between my legs. Skillful movements of my only morning, allowing me to pull down my pajamas until I can see my condition.
My diaper, white yesterday and pressed against my body, is now yellowed and hanging in my transparent panties. There is no doubt that I wet myself.
We didn't discuss what I should do this morning once I woke up. So I wonder if I should go downstairs dressed like this, or if I should go to the bathroom to wash up first. If only I knew what time it was, it could give me a clue...
I decide to first go check on the landing, maybe an open door will tell me if my parents or Constance are up. So I take my first steps with this diaper before realizing that I didn't pull up my pajama bottoms. I pull up my pajamas to hide the evidence of my night and move to the door, opening it as gently as possible.
All the doors on the landing are closed, but I can hear noise downstairs. I spread my legs a bit while walking, realizing I make less noise this way. I go down one step at a time. The more I descend, the more the noise makes me think it's coming from the television and not from voices of the parents.
Slowly, I now advance towards the source of the noise which definitely comes from a television, and more specifically an animated show. From where I am, at the entrance of the room, I can see Constance, sitting on the couch, legs folded, her knees near her chin. This position causes her nightshirt to ride up, revealing what it's meant to hide: her diaper.
I was worried and embarrassed about showing myself in my wet nighttime diaper, but now I'm much less so. Partly because I wouldn't be alone, but also because I figure it's probably likely that no adults are still present in the house. Constance's parents are probably already at work, as are mine.
"Hi Denis," says Constance, noticing my presence. "Have you been here long?"
"A minute," I reply.
"I've been up for a while waiting for you," she says. "Are the parents gone?"
"Yes. Yours told me to give you a kiss and mine told us to wait patiently for lunch at noon."
Constance's response surprises me a bit. What she's saying means she saw the adults this morning and is still wearing her nighttime diaper. Did they not tell her to take it off and shower?
"Come sit down," she says.
"I'm going to the bathroom," I say.
By going to the bathroom, I mainly mean taking off my diaper and washing up.
"You have time, it's only 10 o'clock. My parents won't be back until noon."
"I'd prefer to go now," I reply.
Constance seems to prefer staying in her nighttime diaper rather than changing. She already surprised me last night by wetting her diaper while awake, and now she shows no interest in taking it off.
About 15 minutes later, I find her again. I'm washed and dressed, while Constance is still in front of the TV. This time she's lying on the couch, still watching TV. Her nightshirt, pulled up over her bottom, reveals the bottom of her plastic panties, as well as part of the diapers she's wearing.
I admit I don't understand Constance. She clearly isn't bothered by staying in her wet nighttime diaper, and doesn't seem to care if I see it.
"Aren't you going to change your diaper?" I ask curiously as I sit beside her.
"Yeah, yeah," she replies without even looking at me. "I'll do it. No rush."
A quick calculation on my part tells me that if she saw the parents, it means she's been awake for at least an hour, knowing that the store opens at 9 o'clock.
"Haven't you needed to pee since you woke up?" I question.
I see Constance grab the remote and use it to turn off the TV.
"I have to tell you something," she says, turning towards me. "You're staying with me all week, so you might as well know now."
"Are you sick?" I ask, concerned.
At first skeptical of the question, Constance starts laughing before becoming more serious.
"Don't worry, I'm not sick at all. It's just that, as mom and dad say, I'm a bit lazy..."
I immediately recall the same word mom used last night when talking about Constance's bladder.
"I don't understand," I say, thinking.
"Don't be surprised by what I'm about to tell you," Constance responds in a very serious and almost solemn manner, "because I'm going to say it as simply as possible: I like wearing diapers."
I hear this sentence, it resonates in my head, but I'm not sure I understand. Constance isn't joking, that much I'm sure of. She just told me she likes wearing diapers.
"But why? Nobody likes that! Babies wear them because they have no choice, but as we grow up, we want to take them off. I wear them at night so I don't wet my pajamas and bed. But as soon as I wake up, I take off my diaper. I don't like it."
"I wear them for that too. But I like it, it's convenient during the day too."
"Convenient?"
"Yeah, that way I can pee whenever, I don't need to go to the bathroom."
"Did you purposely pee in it last night before we went to bed?"
"Yes," she says without shame, "and this morning too."
I find it incredible. I never would have thought it was possible to hear something like that. To me, wearing diapers is shameful, something only babies do. At 11 years old, how can someone enjoy wearing a diaper when they can go to the bathroom...
"What do your parents say?" I ask.
"They don't care," Constance replies. "They joke that I'm lazy, and it's true. They say I'm not hurting anyone, and if it doesn't bother me, it doesn't bother them either. Do you think I'm weird?"
"A little," I say. "I don't really understand."
"I'm going to go wash up and get dressed. Wait for me."
I see Constance get up and walk away. I realize that what I said to her wasn't very nice. I shouldn't have called her weird, I feel bad. So when she returns a little later, after thinking a lot, I approach her.
"I'm sorry Constance," I say. "I shouldn't have said what I said. You're not weird."
"I'm just a little different? Is that it?" she replies playfully.
"Yes," I say, amused as well. "Let's say that."
We then start laughing. The morning passes by playing outside and exploring her large garden, without the topic of diapers coming up at all.
But I can't stop thinking about it. I realize that everyone is free to like different things, and that we shouldn't judge. As Constance's parents say, she's not hurting anyone. And I appreciate her just as she is.
Back to story 🛏️ Constance Medical