Through his sleep, Tom felt his shoulders being shaken and in response he reluctantly opened his eyes. He was startled to see Nancy standing over him, looking as angry as he had ever seen her. A split second later, he knew why. He didn't need to look to know what had happened. He could feel the damp sheets beneath him and the room smelled like a bus station bathroom. He stayed silent, uncharacteristically unsure of what to say.
Nancy broke the silence. "You're fortunate that Lisa's room is down the hall. The smell woke me up but must not have drifted that far yet. You now have some decisions to make."
Tom listened intently. To his dismay, he saw Nancy's camera on a dresser by the door. She had already taken more pictures! Because he was wearing different pajamas, anyone looking at the two sets of pictures would know that they were taken on different days, and know that he had wet the bed not once, but twice.
"It's obvious that you have a serious problem controlling your bladder. I refuse to wake up to the smell of pee every morning, and to have every set of sheets I own ruined. I can't solve your wetting problem overnight, but I can take precautions. From now on, you will wear diapers and plastic pants to bed. If you can stay dry for one week straight, we'll take them off. If you wet again, though, it's straight back into diapers."
"Forget it," Tom replied angrily. "I'm too old for diapers and nothing you say can make me wear them. I've got my self-respect and an image to protect. No way, no how."
"You're not in much of a bargaining position, young man," Nancy replied. "If you refuse, I'll show all those pictures to Lisa to show her your problem in living color. They're pretty incriminating. Also, I'll make sure all of your friends at home see copies. How would you like that?"
Tom cringed, horrified. She would do it, too. His macho image with Lisa would crumble—she'd laugh him out of the house. Still, he might prefer that to wearing diapers. But his friends at home? He'd rather die.
"I'll make one concession, for now," Nancy continued. "I won't tell Lisa. It will be our little secret."
It wasn't much , but Tom had no other options. "All right, you win. I'll wear diapers to bed."
Nancy smiled. She had him now. Tomorrow would be the clincher. If things went according to plan, Tom would remember it for the rest of his life.
It was getting late, and Tom was beginning to get nervous. On the one hand, he knew Nancy was a serious woman who meant what she said. On the other hand, he couldn't believe she would put him into diapers. At 5'10", he wouldn't fit in them anyway! She hadn't said a word all day, even when they were alone together. Still, Tom was careful to avoid antagonizing her. Lisa was puzzled when Tom resisted her advances earlier that evening. She was a little put off and went to study with her friends.
"OK, young man, it's time," Nancy said as she entered the living room. I'm going to bed and I don't want to have to get up later to make sure your diapers are on properly. Let's go."
Tom followed sheepishly. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it silently when he saw Nancy glare at him. Her intent was clear. He was not to resist or she would tell everyone that he was a bed wetter.
Tom blushed crimson when he saw the neatly-folded diaper lying on his bed. He finally decided to speak out, just to delay the inevitable.
"Look, it's only 10:30. I usually stay up much later. I don't want Lisa to see me like this. What if I put it on before I go to sleep?"
"Not a chance," Nancy replied firmly. "If it's not on just right you'll leak and soil the sheets again. I've changed 10,000 diapers in my day and I know what I'm doing. Now strip to your underpants and lay down."
Tom did as he was told. As he laid down, his eyes opened in surprise. Under his top sheet he could feel a rubber sheet hugging the bed. He blushed again, humiliated.
"Now, let's raise your legs up and take those big boy panties off, Tommie," Nancy cooed as she lifted his legs, pulling his underwear off with one quick motion. "I'll just slip this nice, soft didie under your bottom. That's good. Now a little baby powder—we don't want a diaper rash, do we."
Tom cringed as Nancy shook the sweet-smelling powder over his genitals, rubbing it carefully around his shaft and balls, up his crack and across his bottom. He looked away, avoiding Nancy's eyes.
"Now, we'll just pull the didie up over your pee-pee and close it tight. Here's some nice pink duckie pins to keep it snug. There we go. Now, just one more thing."
Tom looked up at her with disbelief. Nancy was holding up a very large pair of white plastic pants. Where did she get them? How much more could he take? Slowly, carefully, Nancy pulled the panties up past Tom's knees, then lifted his bottom and pulled them all the way up. She snapped the legs and waistband and was pleased to see that the panties were snug where it counted, but ballooned out from the diaper like a young baby's. Tom was so docile and quiet, she couldn't resist rubbing it in.
"There, all set for the night," Nancy said in a sing-song, babyish voice. "Your waterproof panties will stop any little wetties leaking from your didie from wetting the bed. Now don't take them off in the morning. Mommy wants to see if her little boy has wet or stayed dry."
Tom had no response as Nancy left the room and turned out the light. It wasn't until she left that Tom had a horrifying thought. In all the rush to diaper him and in all his confusion, he never had a chance to go to the bathroom. His bladder was already aching a little. He decided the worst thing he could do was to tell Nancy, so he tried to think of other things. After a long while, he drifted off to sleep.