A few hours later

Lauren stays in a deep sleep until early morning when she just happens to roll over onto her stomach and feels the cold, wet squish of her legs and the bed beneath her. Her eyes snap open, and she scrambles up because she has to be imagining it. There’s no way she wet the bed again. But when she looks down at herself and at her bed, there’s no denying it. Even if she wanted to pretend that she didn’t see it, didn’t feel it, she could still smell it all over her bed. Her bed that _used _to smell of flowery perfume and now reeked of piss.

Lauren starts to freak out. “Why is this happening to me?!” She has never wet the bed before, not even as a little kid, unlike her baby of a sister who had occasionally done it up to age twelve, so why now? Last time she at least had the excuse of being drunk, she has heard of getting “piss drunk” before, though she hadn’t drunk any more than she normally did, but this time she hadn’t even gone to bed drunk!

She shakes those kinds of thoughts out of her head. “It’s just a coincidence,” she tells herself. She must have just had to go before going to bed and forgot to. Why she didn’t wake up like she normally did instead of wetting herself, she didn’t know. She will just have to make sure she uses the bathroom before going to bed next time that’s all.

Lauren climbs out of bed and shivers as the a. c. hits her wet pants. She doesn’t like the feeling. And not having a reason she couldn’t, because her family isn’t home, Lauren opts to just start stripping right there in her room, tossing her clothes with yesterday’s, not even thinking about the good view of her unobstructed, naked body, of her flat chest and hairless pussy, that she is giving her cameras. She leaves her room just like that without a second thought to go clean herself up.

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Vanessa, as she normally does, wakes up early in the morning and stretches. The first thing she does after is check the camera feed. She’s honestly surprised to see that Lauren wasn’t still in bed. She even checks the time to make sure that _she _didn’t oversleep. She didn’t. It was only six in the morning. Lauren never willingly got up this early. Heck, even when she had to get up at that time, she often pushed how late she could be in bed.

When the door opens and Lauren appears, clad in her towel and fresh from her shower, she still looks tired. And it brings a smile to Vanessa’s face.

________________________________________

Lauren drops her towel immediately after she closes her door and makes her way to her dresser, figuring she might as well get dressed for the day since she’s already taken a shower. Nothing fancy, just her enhancements, a pair of booty shorts and a V-neck to draw attention to her “cleavage.”

Once dressed, she looks at her bed and shakes her head. She pulls her sheets off, tossing them with the others. When she looks back at her bed, she is greeted by an even deeper yellow stain than she had yesterday. With a sigh, she gets to work on cleaning it as best she can. Her results aren’t any better than yesterday’s. The stain isn’t as bad as when she started, but it’s still much deeper and more vibrant than it was yesterday, as if it was taunting her. Her cheeks flush, and she looks down at her feet, feeling ashamed of herself. Part of her still wants to blame this on Vanessa somehow, like this was some sort of trick or something, but Vanessa wasn’t even in the country, so she couldn’t.

As she looks down at her feet, she can’t help but notice the baggie peeking out from just under her bed… the diaper bag. Lauren’s face burned brighter, her eyes immediately looking anywhere but there. Why was that there? She was sure she put it further under, so it wouldn’t be noticeable! Then how did it get there? Was this some sort of sick joke? The universe implying that she should throw on a pair of diapers when she goes to sleep or something? “Yeah right,” Lauren grumbles irritably to herself, shaking her head. “I probably just forgot to put it all the way back after diapering ‘Nessa,” she tells herself as she pushes it back under her bed.

Once that’s done, she looks over her bed and decides this is probably as good as her bed was going to get. She scavenges up another set of sheets to put on her bed, and once she’s finished, she can’t help but feel exhausted. Her eyes glance over at her bedside clock it was only seven thirty in the morning. She lets out a loud groan and drops back onto her bed, ignoring the damp feeling it has from her recent cleaning efforts and the slight odor. “No one should be awake this early,” she mumbles, shifting to a part of the bed that wasn’t damp, a part of the bed she hadn’t had to clean, so that she could go back to sleep and wake up at a more reasonable hour.