She has an incident

When you wake up, you both realise that Emma’s had an accident and wet the bed whilst she was asleep. She’s terribly embarrassed. So you reassure her, give her a hug and tell her that everything’s fine and that you’re there for her. At breakfast, you give her another smoothie, and you manage to slip in a few more hints about nappies throughout the day. But above all, you emphasise the importance of letting go and not trying to control everything.

In the evening, you give her another massage, focusing in particular on her bladder. And so, the inevitable happened, and she had another accident during the night.

So, after giving her another smoothie for breakfast, you tell her :

"Darling, maybe you should get some protection – remember?"

"Yes, you might be right – I need to do something about it."

"Those nappies we saw – remember? – they seemed to suit you just fine. And they must be just as soft."

So Emma didn’t reply, lost in her thoughts once more, as if something were trying to take root inside her.

After the day, Emma finally comes home one evening with a pack of adult diapers—her size, white, but not to thick. She asks you to help her put them on, and you accept this fatherly role without hesitation. She lies down on the couch, and you help her put on her first adult diaper.

Emma then puts on a pair of shorts, but of course they’re well-padded because of the diaper. You love watching her walk around the apartment a little clumsily, waddling along. The constant rustling of the diaper keeps reminding her of what she’s wearing, but you reassure her and tell her just how cute she is. She feels comfortable wearing this diaper, so she eventually falls asleep peacefully in your arms.

In the morning, she first seems a little embarrassed when she realizes what she’s wearing, but even more when she realises she’s had another accident... You’re there for her, you reassure her, you tell her that everything’s fine, that it’s normal and that she has nothing to be ashamed of. So she changes into regular clothes and heads off to work.

The days go by. And you have her wear a diaper every evening—and thus every night—which she takes off in the morning. She often has little accidents, which seem to worry her less and less because you reassure her every time. The following weekend, since there’s no need to go to work, you have her wear it a little longer. And of course, you give her another smoothie.

So you take the opportunity to take things a step further:

“Emma, sweetheart, it’s the weekend – you can let yourself go.”

“But that’s not nice…” she says, looking sulky.

“Why? You’re perfectly safe. I’m here. Look how well they protected you last night… And they suit you so well, too.”

“I…”;

“You can trust me, you know. I still love you just as much.”

Standing motionless in the middle of the living room, she let out a long stream of urine, at first very slowly and then more heavily.

Emma buries her face in her hands out of embarrassment, but you think she’s so cute. So you praise her and tell her how much you love her and that she should be proud of her progress.

"You see, it feels so good to let go – it’s such a lovely sensation, you feel so good, don’t you? Yes my love, you love it !"