Leslie

Chapter 2
Part 2

Chapter Description: Leslie's realities keep shifting, but she thinks she may have figured it out: maybe if she lives as a diapered child, she can return to being a regular big girl? Well, it's worth a shot at least!

Leslie had no idea what to do. Here she was... Young. Sexy. Sassy. Smart.

And in her college astronomy class in underwear made for kids who wet the bed.

The whole situation could have been better, had she not been wearing her tightest, sexiest jeans... But after the mornings events and her constant shift in age, she wasn’t quite sure of anything, let alone how she ended up here and in this particular wardrobe. Now was a crucial moment... Should she run the risk of being seen wearing Goodnites on the way out, or sit through class and meld into the crowd on the way out, trying to remain as still and quiet as possible no matter how uncomfortable and anxious...

“You alright?” said the guy next to her, who not two minutes ago had seen this beautiful elegant girl rubbing her crotch and looking like she about to cry

“What?!” gasped Leslie, just being snapped back into reality. Well, sort of. Reality was a loose term today.

“Is something the matter? You were just...” he paused, realizing ’rubbing your crinkly vagina’ sounded a bit awkward, “Acting weird, like something was wrong.”

“Oh, I’m... It’s... I’m alright,” Leslie stuttered, paying half attention. She was trying to calculate an escape plan.

“Alright... You just seemed sort of-” but he was cut short by Leslie jumping up.

She had decided to run for it before class started. The room was almost completely full, but she couldn’t do this. It was just too weird, and she just didn’t want to prolong this at all. She sprung to her feet, and whipped her messenger bag over her shoulder.

And her papers flew out into the face of the guy next to her.

Along with two spare Goodnites.

Everybody looked at the commotion, the diapers sitting haphazardly on the guy’s desk and in his lap. He looked from them to her, then back and forth. As did the rest of the class. Leslie was mortified, her face turning crimson, and her crotch growing warm.

Are you kidding me?! I’m WETTING? She thought with mental fear and shakiness. This was too much to bear. She turned and ran, her open bag flying behind her, the warm padding shifting, and the classroom busting out in laughter and jeers at the weird girl who had diapers in her bag.

Leslie felt flushed and embarrassed the whole way home. She ran up to her apartment and slammed the door shut behind her in anger and chagrin, and turned around ready to break down, but what she saw immediately made her mind wander away from the day’s events; she was back home, and it was enormous.

She could smell dinner being cooked, and walked forwards towards it when she noticed something. She looked down and hurriedly unzipped her pants; Ariel and Flounder stared back up at her. She looked at the mirror to her left and saw just the top of her head in it. She was 6 again.

Her mother wandered out of the aromatic kitchen wiping her hands off on a towel. She looked at her young daughter and spoke, “Leslie, can’t you at least wait till you get upstairs to take your pants off? You’re almost too old to be walking around like that now anyways...”

Leslie was confused again, but just rolled with it, “Okay mommy... Can I just change into my pj pants then?”

“That’s fine, baby. Dinner is almost ready, so don’t dawdle up there, okay?” her mother said calmly.

“Okay mommy.” Leslie replied as she went upstairs, her pants still already half off, her backpack trailing behind her.

Her mother called up behind her, “Oh, I got the new ones today, they’re on your bed. Tell me if you want to try and I’ll get you all changed up before bed, okay boo bear?” Leslie paused and raised one eyebrow suspiciously.

“New ones?” she thought. She opened the door to her room, and saw them: Huggies, size 7. She walked over and looked the pack over like it was some sort of diseased carcass... Days ago, if she had been given a pack of diapers and told “You can wear them if you want” without judgment, she’d have been ecstatic, but now she wasn’t so sure. So much stuff didn’t make sense, mainly this shrinking and growing thing and her spastic potty training abilities.

She tossed her bag aside and slid her jeans off, getting comfortable. She walked over to her dresser to get her pajama pants out, and opened a drawer at random: underoos and pull-ups. Her body felt nothing, but the mature adult in her brain felt some sexual satisfaction momentarily, still denying the notion of being an Diaper Lover by that title but not denying the feelings that the lifestyle gave her. She shut that drawer and opened the next, finding socks. On to the next one, where she finally located some pj’s. She withdrew a pair of pink fleece pants, and began to put them back on. She stopped mid-leg, realizing something: it seemed that what ever she was wearing in one form directly affected what she wore in her other form: as an adult in a Goodnite, she became a child in Pull-ups; then as a child in panties, she became an adult in Goodnites, then back again. So just maybe....

Leslie walked downstairs in her shirt and undies, holding her jammies and a diaper, feeling embarrassed about what she was about to ask. But she felt this would solve her problems. She walked into the kitchen, where her mom turned to look at her. “Ready for dinner honey? Oh, what’s that?”

“Mommy, can you put my diaper on me?” Leslie asked, trying to be as much of a child as she could. She could feel herself reddening.

“Leslie, don’t be ridiculous, you’re not a baby, those are for bed time.” her mother replied.

Leslie hadn’t planned on this, so she had to fallback onto a lie.

“Well I’m feeling kind of icky and I wanna go lay down after dinner, but I don’t want to fall asleep and wet my bed...” Her mother stood for a moment, then sighed.

“Alright baby, let’s go get you changed.” She said at last. She led her daughter into the living room and lied her down.

Leslie lay there, staring up at the ceiling. She felt her panties being slid off and her bum being raised by her mother’s warm hand, and when she came back down she could feel the plastic cushioning under her. It was comforting and strange, but she enjoyed it. Then she felt it pulled up between her legs, over her hairless privates, just as comfortable as it was on her backside. Lastly she felt the the sides pulled up over her and taped up. It took 18 years (or maybe 3?) but Leslie Moore was finally back in a diaper. She felt so awkward and strange physically, but her mind was going nuts; the adult consciousness in her was climaxing, having the most intense orgasm it had ever had. She couldn’t describe the duality of it for the life of her, but she at least half-loved it. She stood up, and her mother got up too.

“Now go wash your hands, honey. Dinner’s ready.” said her mother. She patted Leslie’s diapered bum as her daughter ran off to the bathroom.

The moment Leslie got to the dark bathroom, her knees buckled and she felt exhausted.

She braced herself on her doorframe, looking down and panting. She flicked on the light, and looked up; in the mirror directly across from her was a sweating, flushed adult Leslie. She was grown up again. And very tired. She stumbled forward, and felt something. Looking down, she saw her saggy diaper.

Well, so much for THAT theory, she thought shakily. She couldn’t think straight, then realized this was the same pleasureful haze she felt after sex; that’s when she remembered her out of body duality as a child. She wasn’t so sure anymore how this shifting reality worked. Technically she never had been, but now even less so since she couldn’t really discern any patter here.

She recomposed herself and washed her face off. She looked at the clock on the wall; it was only 7:30. She sighed and toweled her face off, then took the wet diaper off. She reassured herself that it was wet from all the weirdness and nothing else (like maybe the loss of her bladder control when not shifting between childhood and adulthood), then threw it away. It landed at the bottom of the basket, which should have contained the Goodnite from that morning, but she just didn’t care right now.

Leslie wandered to her room in just her tshirt, naked from the waist down, and opened her drawer to pull out a new pair of panties. But there were no panties to be found. No bikinis, no boyshorts, no thongs, no granny. Nothing.

Well, maybe not nothing.

She was well stocked on Huggies, Pull-ups, and Goodnites.

Then she could hear, but not really feel, the puddle forming on the carpet directly beneath her. And Leslie did all she could think to do:

She stood there and cried.