Back during my days at the University of Michigan , which as Anthony, would have been only one month ago… I used to play rugby on Saturday mornings. It was great to beat the hell out of each other. It was also great to laugh at any girl who was making a walk of shame to her dorm early in the morning. Lots of the partiers always did, and lots of us guys always laughed.

Today… Today, I was the one making such a walk. I don’t even know what to think of it. It doesn’t even matter, I’m not really here anyways… Anthony has left the building people. Or more accurately, has left the body. Just call me Alouette.

Angélique gently squeezed my hand, I didn’t take much notice. I was pre-occupied and walking a little awkward because I was trying to hold down my baggy t-shirt over my wet corduroys.

“Your not great friends with the wash room are you? Do you always just wet yourself like this?”

She spoke to me while squeezing my hand again. I didn’t reply. I couldn’t understand her, and I wasn’t in much of a mood for talk anyways. Our little meeting with the police hadn’t gone how I’d hoped. Instead of arguing my case as a 22-year-old man somehow transformed into a girl, I had instead found that the man… that I… had left. I’d also managed to solidify myself as a 15-year-old girl in their eyes. It was backwards progress if anything.

We went down the hill towards Angélique’s house. About mid-street we took a quick detour to another house. I followed along in sort of a daze, till my mind picked up on the fact that there would be people in the house, and that people would look at me and see me with wet pants… and then make a judgment.

Wouldn’t that make a great first impression on town locals, ‘Hi, I’m the psycho American girl who pees herself!’ I started dragging my feet. “Don’t trot me around on display Angélique! This is mean!”

“Stop struggling I just need some advice from Madame Agnew.”

Despite my struggling, and ignoring Angélique’s inane admonishments, I was dragged to the front door. As soon as her hand hit the knocker, I quickly hid myself behind her. Maybe I could just hide there and die.

A young girl answered the door; she looked to be about my age. She had long brown hair and wore a big baggy sweater. Behind her was an even younger girl in a dress, she had a dolly in one hand and her thumb in her mouth. Both of them sort of leaned over so they could see around Angélique to me. I tried not to make eye contact.

“Teacher? What are you doing here? It’s Saturday. I um… don’t need to do my homework till tomorrow since it’s not due till Monday right?”

“Hello Papillon, and no, I’m not here to nag you about your homework. Although, if you have it done on Monday that would certainly be a surprise,” Angélique said.

The girl my age blushed. “Then what are you doing here?”

“At least speak with a little more courtesy Papillon. I’m here to see your mom. Is she in?”

From what I could tell, Angélique knew the older child, and in their brief conversation so far, she hadn’t mentioned me, which relieved me a little. The girl my age turned her head and called out for her “Maman.”

An older lady came down the stairs with an infant on her hip. She looked a little raggad, but still pretty underneath the fatigue. “Oh Angélique, how nice to see you…” said Jeanne warmly. Then her eyes shot to Papillon. “Wait, what’s Papillon done this time?”

“Oh nothing nothing Jeanne. I just came to speak to you.”

“Well come in, you know your welcome to visit any time.”

“I um.. think I better not.”

Angélique stuttered for a moment and looked down at me. I gulped loudly realizing that it was probably time I reveal myself in my state of embarrassment. The lady, whom I assumed to be the mother of these three, followed Angélique’s eyes to me.

“Oh who’s that Angélique? Is she a new student of yours?”

“Actually she’s an American runaway. I’m going to be taking care of her for a while, till we can find her parents anyway.”

“A little girl like that? On her own? My goodness.”

“She actually um…” Angélique leaned forward and motioned for Jeanne to come closer so she could whisper.

It was bad enough that they were talking in French, but to have whispered stuff to each other in French too? What is this? Overlapping layers of security? I didn’t think it mattered, I knew what they were talking about… hell what they were talking about was starting to feel cold and uncomfortable under my shirt.

“My word, three times already?”

“Isn’t that awful? I’m not sure what to do about it.”

“Hehe so you thought to come to me? The girl with three children and ask advice?”

“I thought you’d know best,” Angélique said with a smile.

“And don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise.”

“Do you think its coincidence?”

“No, she probably has poor potty habits. Let me pack you a bag. I’d say…” Jeanne looked at her daughter Papillon who was staring at her intently. Her mother’s whispering was opening that curious intent of hers. “Papillon go upstairs, and take your little sister.”

The girl my age frowned and wandered off with the girl behind her. Her mother waited till she was up the stairs and then started talking in a quieter voice to Angélique.

“Papillon would never talk to me for a year if she knew I’m going to tell you this, but she used to wet the bed till she was 10. I bet that’s the problem with this girl. Just diaper her before bed and keep her in some thicker panties during the day. Like trainers or something… or if it’s really bad, those disposable things at the market.”

“That’ll be great.”

“Here I’ll get some of Papillon’s old stuff, I’ll be right back.”

The mother left the doorway and went upstairs. Angélique turned around to me and crouched down.

“Désolé…” she said softly. I wasn’t really sure what she said or what to say back. I was appreciative that she hadn’t blown my spot to everyone, or at least she hadn’t done what I was imagining she’d do. I felt for sure she’d step behind me, push me forward and pull my shirt up so their was no doubting what she was whispering about… but then when she’d done the whispering and the mother sent the young girl away, I realized she was trying to help me.

The mother returned shortly with a brown bag. It was left over from a trip to the grocery store by the look of it. She handed it to Angélique and we left.

We walked in silence. I wanted to know what was in the bag, but if Angélique were to tell me I wouldn’t understand anyway. It was a short distance to her house and when we got in she had me bathe again. I got some more fresh clothes, but something odd this time, the panties she gave me seemed a little tighter, rather then looser like the other pair I’d worn. Also, they seemed a bit… thicker.

“Wow it’s already lunchtime. Are you hungry?”

I stared at her blankly. She tapped her chin with her forefinger and looked perplexed.

“Lunchtime… would you like food?” she asked while rubbing her tummy.

“Oh… lunchtime. Yes, I’m hungry,” I said nodding my head. It seemed our best communication was cave-manish sign language. She took me downstairs and sat me at her kitchen table.

Once again I listened to a steady diatribe of French. It might as well have been elevator music. Bleeb-ba-dee-blah-blah-bleee… I mimicked her motor mouth with my hand while she had her back to me. She was chopping something up and probably telling me everything about herself, even though by now, she HAD to know that I didn’t understand any of it. Maybe she just liked to have someone to talk to, even if they couldn’t really properly respond back.

“So when I turned 23 I came back here to Rouen . Toulouse was nice, but you just can’t beat the warmth and serenity of your hometown. Luckily, they needed another teacher at my old catholic school. I applied and got the position, and here I’ve been for the last 4 years. It’s quiet, but comfortable.”

Angélique turned in time to catch me looking boredly off into space and doing the talking hand thing. She frowned and roughly put a bowl of soup down in front of me. The noise of it on the table shook me out of a trance.

“What? Sorry, I just can’t understand you. How do you expect me to pay attention?”

Eating went by in quiet. I will say that Angélique is a good cook. In fact, as I sipped (more slurped) from my spoon, I took the time to actually really look her over. Something in my head told me I needed to look her over, but at the same time, I didn’t really see what was that interesting. She was pretty, but not more so then the other lady we’d stopped to talk to earlier. She was just, a nice girl… Not too old, like, motherhood age I suppose.

“Why are you staring at me?”

Her voice broke me out of yet another trance. I nervously looked down at my soup and went back to slurping.

“Maybe I took on too difficult a task. It’s not going to be easy taking care of someone who can’t understand me...”

Lunch didn’t last too long, and afterward we were just left staring at each other. Seems I was stuck with her, since no one believed my story, and the law enforcement thought me a crazy liar.

“Do you have a computer?” I asked on a random thought.

She shook her head no… I walked over to her phone and picked it up. Angélique looked at me crossly and then came over to hang up the phone for me.

I looked at her, “Can I make a phone call?”

She knew what I was asking. “Non. You’ll call some boy to come break you out so you can just hit the road again. Don’t you think its time you turned your life around?”

I frowned and left the phone alone. Somewhere in town there was a phone or computer I could use. Maybe I could access my old e-mail or something to get help from my friends. Or maybe I could sneak out and get a phone card to call the US ? I bet if I could reach my real parents, they’d at least listen to me if I told them things only Anthony would know. That would have to wait though; I didn’t have any money.

Angélique took my hand and led me across the room to two chairs by the fire place. She sat me in one and went to get a book from a stack on her desk. She put the book in my lap and sat down next to me. I looked at the title; it was apparently a grammar book.

“You want me to learn French?”

Angélique nodded and opened the book for me. She pointed at the first page, it had the alphabet and numbers 0-9. I shrugged, why not… this was why I came here anyway.

We got into the lesson. She would read something, and I would try to repeat exactly what she’d read. In this way, I was learning some of the basic soundings of the language. Small stuff like how “oui” which meant yes, came out as a “we” sound. It was the first stone of the foundation anyway.

We kept at it all afternoon, till I suddenly felt a little tickly feeling. I flung the book from my lap, startling Angélique and flew up the stairs. I made it to the bathroom and slammed the door behind me. I heard her come up the stairs a moment after me, lightly tapping at the door.

“Are you okay Alouette?”

I ignored the voice beyond the door. By some miracle, I’d managed to make it up the stairs to the bathroom before once more creating a pond in my panties. Not only that, but after I’d sat down, I was surprised to find that it wasn’t just pee that I needed to do.

The door opened and Angélique’s head poked through. I yelled at her for privacy, but I couldn’t mistake the quick happiness that was there at seeing me sitting the way I was.

“Look at you! You can do it!” she said coming into the room.

“Shut up! Whatever you’re saying, I don’t want to hear it!” I said trying to wave her off.

She walked up to me and checked my panties the way she would a preschooler. She frowned a little to find them wet, but was still happy that at least the majority of it was in the toilet. I on the other hand was a little bit less then happy. To me, it was like only predicting the rain after it had already started. I honestly would have probably just completely wet myself earlier if it had not been for the fact that I felt it first before it got too bad. Not only that, but I didn’t even feel the need to do number 2, but as I could tell now… I did.

Angélique turned around and at least give me a tiny bit of privacy in cleaning myself up. When I flushed and was pulling my pants back up, she wouldn’t stop with the praises, it was thoroughly embarrassing; I knew that it was inappropriate for her to be doing it to a girl of my apparent age.

“Let me get another pair of panties for you, those are wet.”

Angélique was holding her hand out to stop, so I stayed with my pants up to about my knees, frowning at whatever she wanted me to do. She left the room and came back just as quick with another pair of the smaller, yet thicker panties. I didn’t complain because my other pair was wet. Sadly, by my count, this was the fourth pair of clean panties I was putting on today after having wet another pair. Not a very noble record.

When I was fresh again, we went back downstairs and called it quits on the studying. Angélique babbled in French some more and grabbed her purse. I wasn’t sure what she wanted but I soon found that we were going to go out shopping. It was just about evening now as we started walking up into town.

Angélique was actually being pretty nice to me. She bought some clothes for me; nothing too fancy, just clothes that would fit and that I could wear. She let me choose them out, and of course I choose out the most boyish things I could find, but she didn’t seem to complain too much, as long as the clothes still came from the girl’s section of the small store. Oddly enough she didn’t have me buy any more underwear, which to me, was probably what I needed most, but oh well. Fitting clothes were nice to have.

We also stopped by the grocery store, where Angélique picked up a few things. I found myself wandering up and down the isles till I found a payphone towards the back of the store. I tried to get back there to use it, but when I did… I didn’t have any money or a calling card. Angélique found me a few moments later and called me over to her with a stern look on her face.

“You’re intent to call somebody aren’t you? Well I won’t have it.”

We went home and had dinner. It was a simple meat and potatoes meal, but it was good and I was glad for it. Angélique the windbag continued her optimistic overuse of French in the hopes I’d catch on, but I just ate and nodded politely. After a while I even started talking to her in the gaps of silence, hoping that maybe the reverse would happen to her with English.

The rest of the evening went by fairly fast. I sat in the chair by the fireplace and browsed through some of her books. They were textbooks of various kinds, and I could tell they were aimed at younger audiences. So I just looked at pictures and went page to page.

Angélique sat in the other chair and read from a novel. She seemed pleased at my reading the textbooks. I think her opinion of me, was that I was just an unscrupulous trouble maker, who probably hadn’t had any schooling… but the fact of the matter was, when it came down to the amount of schooling I’d had, I’d probably had a higher education then her. Still I read till I found it hard to read and myself yawning more and more frequently.

“I’m getting tired, and I can tell by your yawns that you are. What do you say we head up to bed?”

Angélique caught me nodding off. She piled the books on her desk again and led me upstairs. I was tired by now, so I didn’t really complain. Thinking a bit smartly, I went into the bathroom before heading to my bedroom, which Angélique was all smiles about. Unfortunately I didn’t have to go, but the thought was there at least.

When I got to what I assumed was going to be my bedroom for the time being, Angélique was waiting with the brown paper bag from that house we’d stopped at earlier. I raised a cautious eyebrow at her.

“Alouette, please sit here, I need to talk to you.”

Angélique was patting the bed next to were she was crouching. I slowly went and sat there.

“After working a number on this mattress last night, I’m going to listen to what Jeanne said and keep you in diapers tonight. Is that okay?”

I really wanted to know what she was saying here, it sounded important, but I still had no idea. When she was done talking, I nodded slowly. Angélique started to fish something out of the bag, it was bundles of cloth. She stood me up and pulled off my shirt and then unbuttoned my pants and let them fall to the floor.

“New pajama’s?” I asked while looking at the white cloth and being undressed. It felt a little awkward to have someone undressing me, but I didn’t really fuss about it. She slid my panties down and patted for me to lie down on the bed. I did so a little nervously. I wasn’t sure how I was going to get dressed while lying down.

She took a few layers of the cloth and started to fold it up. She lifted my legs and in that moment, I realized what it looked like she was doing, and then hit even harder that it wasn’t just looking like she was doing it, she was ACTUALLY doing it. She was putting a diaper on me.

“Now hold on!” I yelped trying to jump up. She caught me with her hand.

“Lay down, this will only take a minute.”

“Don’t you dare diaper me! I’m not a baby! The old me wasn’t! And even though this new body is younger, it’s not a baby!”

Angélique wasn’t taking my argument too well. She stopped for a moment and got up. She walked across the room and opened the laundry hamper and looked inside without touching anything.

“That’s 1, 2, 3, 4 pairs of wet underwear. Not to mention the sheets I put in the wash this morning!”

She was counting things off on her hand. I blushed; I knew what she was counting. She was making her argument against why I should be diapered tonight. She walked back over and pushed me to lying back down. I resisted, but let her push me all the way down.

She slid the layers under me and then neatly brought them up and pinned them on. She reached into the bag and pulled out a pair of plastic panties which she worked on over them. She pulled me up and off the bed. I brought my arm up to covered my chest, not really sure why, just felt I needed too, and I looked over at myself in the mirror.

I looked stupid. Mid-teen girl in a diaper. I was almost glad that I wasn’t a guy, because if I was caught like this as a guy, I’d never live it down.

Angélique brought in another long night shirt and put it on me. She pulled back the covers and insisted on tucking me in, just the way a mother would. I resented it a little, even more so because the plastic pants were a loud tell-tale, but at the same time a part of me knew that she was doing me a kindness. I’d probably still be at the police station if not for her.

“What about if I wake up and have to use the bathroom?” I asked.

She gave me the look of not understanding. I pointed at me, and then at the bathroom down the hall.

“You already went before bed right? You shouldn’t need to go then before I get you up tomorrow morning. We’re going to get up bright and early. I always go to church on Sundays, and I think the first step on the road to a healthy lifestyle for you, will be going back to church.”

“Never mind, sorry I asked,” I said as I rolled over. I was really starting to get fed up with even trying to get my point across.

She gently patted my head once and left the room turning out the light. I heard the door shut, and suddenly I was alone. The thought sort of scared me.

For the billionth time today, I started to cry. Now that I was actually alone, all of my thoughts ganged up on me. I really was alone. I didn’t have any friends. I didn’t have anyone who believed me. I was diapered because I couldn’t control myself. It was a horrible, rotten, nightmare…

I sobbed into my pillow, till somewhere down the way, my body gave out and went to sleep.