I - Towards Independence
The security guard led me to an exiguous badly lit room. On the way, I avoided exchanging glances with the clients and the employees of the supermarket. Contrary to the cashiers, we barely saw that agent and never talked to him. He closed the door. We were alone. There was an empty table in the middle of the room and a desk on the side on which two screens retransmitting black and white video footage were placed. That austerity added up to the oppressing feeling.
- Open your bag.
Cold, dogmatic. He would not leave me any room of manoeuvre. I executed the order with my eyes lowered. The diapers were buried under my dance outfits.
- Take out what you took and put it on the table.
I hesitated for a moment to take all of them off. I would have gladly keept one to comfort me during what would be a bad evening. The fear of making my case worse convinced me of the contrary.
- Is that all ?
He intensely stared at me. I piteously nodded. Tears were coming to my eyes.
- That is not the first time it happens, am I right ?
First question with an opening. Opportunity had to be taken.
- My mother, she has issues with money, answered I, letting my tears obviously run on my cheeks. My sister, she needs diapers.
No reaction, no movement. I was still looking at the diapers on the table. The common ignorance around the ABDL practices was playing in my favour. I kept on going.
- My mother, she says that diapers are expensive, so I just take some to help her out.
At the end of my tirade, I sniffed and I wiped tears off my cheeks with a trembling hand. Text was false, tears were true. If they called my mother, it would be beyond dramatic. The security agent sighed.
- You cannot steal in the supermarkets, do you hear me ? Normally, I should call the police. What would your mother say if she had to pick you up at the police station ?
His sentence was in conditional tense. I was on the right track. I forced a bit for new sobbing.
- I am sorry, I won’t do it again. I have some money, I might be able to pay for the diapers if you want so.
I raised my eyes to meet his for the first time. He did not abandon his severe look, but heart was not in it.
- Young girl, you are going to leave me those diapers. And I am keeping an eye on you. If I take you stealing again, you won’t give your explanations to me, but to the police. Am I clear enough ?
- Yes (ostentatious sniffing) Sir.
- Out now.
I closed my bag and threw it on my shoulder. He opened the door. With a quick step and hiding my face the best I could, I made it towards the exit. I saw out of the corner of my eye the cashiers turning to me while I was passing by. Shame was killing me. I run to be on time to my dance practice hoping no one will notice that I cried. I had to find a solution and not wearing diapers was not one. Going to another supermarket would be complicated enough. Occasions for me to wander as I pleased were rare. Money would be an issue too. If I kept on stealing, I would end up being banned in all the shops of the city and exile did not tempt me for a bit.
A sudden arrival would initiate some enhancements. The red colour of the toilet paper informed me bluntly on a Sunday afternoon that childhood was coming to an end. The emotion of my mother at that moment made me realise the importance of that news. Followed an explanation about the use of the sanitary pads. When I put my knickers on for the first time with that absorbing band, the sensation mildly similar to a diaper made me blush. On the third evening, I could not help myself but to test it with a small wee. Of course, and I was conscious of it, it was fanciful. To my defence, several weeks had passed since I wore a diaper last. And as the littlest things can arouse an ABDL in need… I took a chance. Just like with the Pampers, I went to the shower cubicle. A clever thought ! Within the first 2 seconds, it was overflowing. Peeing directly on the ground would not have been so much different. I had to wash my knickers with shower gel and rinse myself a good deal. The sheer incompetence of most of the sanitary pads, even for the normal type of flood they are conceived to absorb, still leaves me gobsmacked.
Leaving apart those frustrations, my menstruations would offer a gradual emancipation and its lot of new liberties.
My dance class took place in a sports facility where different practices gathered. In the main corridor, there was a board where everyone could pin up their informative sheets. The lack of diapers affecting my mood, I took a few steps away from the group who was waiting for the time to go in the dance room. Mindlessly looking at the rank of posters powered by Paint 98, a modest piece of paper attracted my attention.
—---- Searching Baby Sitter —----
Wait… Being potentially in contact with diapers, being able to take some without anyone realising it and being paid for that ? That was the ABDL dream job !
I waited days to think it good before speaking and I eventually said to my mother at the end of a meal :
- Mum, I would like more pocket money. Some of my friends, they have 5 euros per week so they buy themselves une galette* for lunch sometimes. I would love to do the same.
- I get it, Daisy, but money does not grow on trees. One needs to work for it.
On target, Bridget.
- Mum, I would like to work. Look. I could do some babysitting.
My hand slowly slid across the table the paper I had taken off the board to the intention of my gaping begetter.
It was the first step towards my independence and I was about to be a sprinter in the matter.
—---------------------------------
* Une galette is a savoury stuffed crêpe (thin pancake) that is a food speciality in my area. If you eat une galette, it makes you the coolest person on earth, but in a casual way.