"Goodnight mama, love you!" My voice bounced to the end of the hallway, carrying a cheerful tone to the home office. It hurt not hearing her singsong voice anymore from the hall, but it couldn't be helped. It was just another one of those things that changed since mom caught the last strain of miniat's disease two years ago. I didn't doubt she still was trying to respond from her office, though; after all, we were inseparable. Dad died not long after I was born, leaving both of us alone without extended family on either side.
A smudged photo in a frame on the wall brought a light smile to my lips as I imagined them both in wedding attire during their wedding ceremony. Unfortunately for us, the wedding picture wasn't taken professionally, so that streak obscured most of dad's features, and mom didn't have any better ones to share with me. Still, I think he must have been handsome, mom being the judge and me being the sterling example.
With a tired groan, the hinges of my door creaked open to reveal a simple desk and large filing cabinet at the far wall of my room. I quickly plopped down onto the corner of the cabinet and hiked down my sweatpants with a practised motion, revealing my pull-up from the shirt held under my chin. I was surprised to see it was only a little damp from this evening, with it usually soaked when I went in for my night-time change. I kicked off my sweats behind the door next to my hamper, stood up to slip it off, and put it into the small sealed bin next to me.
Even though I hadn't peed much, the air still felt uncomfortably cool against my groin, urging me to get changed as quickly as possible. Dragging the diaper I set out earlier under me, I sat down without looking and felt something vibrating under my right cheek. That speciality butt-plug I got from work was left on all day, and even worse, it was already feeling a lot weaker. My right hand had already been working on the baby powder, so I leaned forwards and just used my left to quickly lube up my butthole and stick it in, being instantly rewarded by pleasure.
By the time I had taped up the sides, my face was already a little pink, and my hopes for a good dream tonight were pretty promising. I glomped my pillow with exhaustion and flopped under the bed covers to stare dreamily at the ceiling overhead. I didn't know why, but this view was one of the most comforting ones in the world to me. Maybe since it was the first and last thing I saw every day since I was born, it just became my visual security blanket, but I wouldn't have it any other way. Both of my feet slowly poked out from under the sheets and rose upwards towards the ceiling, the soles instantly becoming cold as they made contact with the lowest point of the slope. I held them there for a little while until they felt tired, then I let them drop hard into the mattress to savour the merging of the two vibrations with the one in my rear.
The longer I stared at the ceiling, the sleepier I became, and very quickly, I dozed off with my last conscious thought being about how I left the light on again. That night's dream, however, wasn't the pleasant one I had been hoping for. Instead, I dreamt about the night mom and I got into that crash. It was winter in the late-afternoon; mom and I were getting out of the hospital after her diagnosis of miniat's and were driving home. Snow pelted the windshield in clumps, making visibility low in the flurry that filled the narrow corridors of office buildings. The traffic around us was going about the same speed as we were, everyone carefully making their way to the ploughed Mainstreet.
Suddenly, a car to our right pulled out around the corner and floored it over some ice, skidding at speed right into the passenger side of our vehicle, and the next thing I knew, the world went black. I was out for a few days, but when I woke up again, mom was a bit smaller and crying at my bedside, holding my hand. I still don't know if it was the emotional toll or just the disease, but the entire thing weighed heavily on her heart. The nurses kept popping in and out, bringing me new fluids and the occasional hospital meal to keep my strength up until the doctor came in broke the news. The crash had left me with a spinal cord injury, and they weren't sure how effective therapy would be, but ultimately it was up to me to decide what to do.
I gave it a shot, and after half a year of it, I was walking again, with help, of course. But it was enough to keep me going. Mom kept shrinking as time passed, and she eventually had to stop coming to visit me as it was becoming more dangerous for her to make the commute. By the end of the first anniversary, I was walking on my own again. There was just one small problem, which was my bladder and bowels. I had been having accidents ever since the 'accident', and I had only been able to recover from the bowel issues since then, albeit with caveats. My therapist then gave me another choice: take pills while using padding to help with the accidents, or use the padding alone. I chose option two. As I sat in the back of my best friends car, I saw something that made my bones freeze in terror. A set of two yellow headlights were barreling through the thick snowfall, heading straight for me in the passenger seat once more.
I shot up and let out a scream, hyperventilating as the sound of my piss hitting the padding between my legs filled the room—another nightmare. I looked to my side to check the time on my alarm clock, a red analogue 10:46 PM meeting my eyes as I groaned in frustration. Even a nightmare couldn't get me through the night anymore, and to top it all off, I wet myself. I almost felt like crying as I flipped over onto my stomach and flopped face-first into my pillowcase. Mom probably heard my scream, and I had been trying so hard not to let her find out I was still having nightmares these past few months. Even the butt-plug couldn't lift my spirits anymore, seeing as its batteries must have died while I was asleep. Actually, I was pretty sure it just fell out because I couldn't even feel it anymore. I must not have been thinking too clearly, because my phone sat in my hand with a new text from my childhood friend on the screen.
>"Hey, XiaXia, what's up?" Yang Zhao's first response buzzed in my palms. I felt a little bit of the previous anxiety melt away for a moment.
>>"Nothing," I replied before sending another text. "Actually, no, guess what's up."
>"Hmmm... You're finally going to agree to the date An Sung asked you on last week!" ... I stared blankly at the phone before wishing I could slap the grin off his face, then gave a blunt reply of 'no'.
>"I think you two would get along well enough if you just gave him a chance, that is." Yang's tone quickly swapped back to serious-mode, making me want to hit him more than usual.
>>"Ahaha, really? You think he'd be so understanding when he sees the diapers? The big scars? How about the nightmares?" I vented a little without thinking, almost instantly wanting to delete what I just sent before a reply came in.
>"Ah, you're still getting nightmares? Do you need me to come over?"
>>".... no."
>"Xia, you going to turn down my movie/cuddle session again?" He started joking again, but the topic was still firmly stuck on what I wanted to avoid.
>>"Depends. I have work tomorrow," I started before adding, "You know, spreadsheets, then a presentation."
>"I can still come. No classes." His reply was quick and becoming more challenging to turn down.
>>"Can't I say no?"
>"You can try to." Another rapid reply popped into the text log. He knew me too well.
>>"No."
>"Denied. Still coming over. Usual time?"
>>"Maybe a little later, thinking of sleeping in tonight if I can."
>"Okay, see you soon, Xia Liao. Remember, An Sung' birthday is only a few months away..."
>>"Shut up. I'm going. Bye-bye~ and I'm punching you when you come over."
>"Goodnight, XiaXia, and noted. Sleep well."
>>"Thnx."
The last text for the night ended with a clack as the phone hit my bedside, and I sat up. The covers soared from my lower body in a rush so I could survey at least a little of the damage I did. The front was a light off-white at the leg guards, letting me know that my diaper was still mostly dry. It had to be said, despite the padding squishing under me, the diaper still looked a bit okay for the rest of the night.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed and scooted my bottom to the edge. I had to turn my light off, and I wanted to check on mom and get something to drink anyways. As soon as I got on my feet, I went down the hallway, ignoring the feeling of warmth radiating from my groin until I made it to her bedroom door. My heart was already leaking with anxiety leaving me wondering what to do. Open the door? But what if moms asleep? Oh god... The diaper... mom wouldn't know... but...
I pushed the door open as gently and as quietly as I could, only sighing in relief when I saw a lump inside of her messy cigarette box-sized bed. Almost as soon as my short and diapered form appeared at the doorway, it disappeared with a click. My anxiety didn't disappear, however. I paced around the living room for a while, quietly fretting as I slowly started to yawn again. I unconsciously circled to the kitchen and grabbed some warm water before returning to my bedroom.
For the second time tonight, my butt plopped down on the side of my bed. The glass found its home next to my cellphone after I chugged the contents down and fell backwards under the covers again. I felt dead tired. I didn't even have to stare at the ceiling to start the dream, instead just focusing on my sense of self, slowly sinking into the plush mattress and letting it all fade to black.
This time, my dreams were of Yang Zhao again, but instead of his car, we were at his house. Something felt off. His usually bustling household was abnormally silent, save for the sounds of silverware clacking against a ceramic dish. I felt rooted in place, like something was restricting me while I turned my head to the left and spat out whatever was in my mouth. It was a pacifier. I looked in horror at the rest of what was in my view; the sight of a plastic high-chair counter with flowers and smiles judged me as Yang Zhao turned the corner with a bowl of congee. It was torture. His smile grated my patience each time the spoon flew by. I tried to kick him in the stomach, only to miss again and again. I felt bloated, and my stomach was in knots as he put down the bowl, revealing despite the massive amount I ate of the mac n cheese, it was still fucking full of it!
"Ywang, stawp.." I choked back tears, begging him through a mouth still stuff full of food. "Pweash stawp shis."
He didn't. The next step was him putting his massive hand over my stomach and rubbing it up and down, a groan and a gurgle indicating every single one of his intentions. He. Was. Trying to. Make me. Shit myself. I spat the food in my mouth at his still smiling face that didn't miss a fucking beat and kicked with all my might to meet empty air again. The pressure in my gut dissipated while an unwanted guest was making itself right at home, pushing out into the seat behind me. Just at that moment, my eyes shot open to the tune of a long, drawn-out fart.
This morning was going to be a slow one. I had both arms covering my face for a half-hour to calm down before I even thought to flip over and check the alarm clock. 7:28 AM.
>>"Fucking hell, Yang Zhao..." I sent him a text while wiping my tongue with my fingers. I knew it was petty, but I swore I still had the taste of rice in my mouth.
The covers were cast aside to the wall, and it was time to survey the damage again. The front of my padding was dyed a distinct yellow, and the mild stench of stale urine leaked from my waist. Not as bad as I was expecting, especially after 'that'. Still, I could use a change... Or at least I thought so until I checked the cabinets bottom drawer. I forgot I was waiting for my order to arrive, and now the only padding left in my room were two small daytime pull-ups. It was enough to make a grown woman cry if I even looked the part anymore with a diaper lightly sagging between my legs. I had to work, and those two pull-ups were nowhere near enough to get me through the day, so I came up with a pretty innovative solution.
From the top of the silver tube, a massive set of (my) fingers descended to the depths, retrieving the barely used pull-up from yesterday at the bottom of the bin before drowning the less fortunate contents with temporary oblivion. Pairing that with one of my two others, I got to work snipping off the legs and waists to make a set of makeshift diaper inserts for the rest of today. Sitting down this time with a slightly different routine in mind, I felt something itching around my asshole, reminding me of that butt-plug from last night and making me think it might just be buggy or something. Ignoring that thought, though, I had just shoved and positioned the two into their new home under my crotch, just in time for Yang Zhao to start knocking at the door.
"Xia Liao, you still up?" Yang's voice sounded muffled through the thin wood door, but it was still close enough to make me feel nervous with how skimpy my current attire was.
"Yeah," I paused for a moment before continuing to retape the side, "Don't come in; I'm getting dressed."
"Okay. Need me to do anything?" asked Yang Zhao.
"Yeah, can you see if mom's still home? If she's not, w-would you- ow-mind putting the coffee on?" I called back awkwardly as my hairbrush caught a snag momentarily.
"Sure." The sound of heavy footsteps on hardwood made their way to the kitchen before fading around the corner. Following out behind him, I sat down at the kitchen counter and flicked the power switch, counting the news headlines that sprung up overnight from the comfort of my laptop. Breaking news! Scientists say dogs more likely to achieve first-grade cognitive test thanks to experimental drug trials. Uh-huh... Miniat's scheduled to sweep the world again in three to five weeks. So, nothing changed there. Donovotal's Prosthetics Adult Research Division set to release a new tech demo update at Articon 2033, featuring new sex work employment opportunities for Miniat affected communities...
The list didn't seem to end, but it was mostly just the old news retreads, so I closed the computer. As I stole sips from my mug, I glanced curiously at the state of my diaper. Despite the fact I was currently leaking, the diaper wasn't. It was a good sign that the makeshift inserts were doing their jobs.
"Anything interesting?" Yang Zhao sat down next to me and peeked over my shoulder as he drank his coffee.
"Not really. Maybe the last article was... Wanna read?" I tried to shift my laptop over to his side, only to find it back where it started, with him shaking his head at me.
"No thanks," he said, "My brains still recovering from getting the brats ready for school." We both took another big sip from our mugs before he asked, "Why didn't you change today?"
"cough-didn't have something to change into, Yang." snatching the tissue from his hand, I wiped coffee off my chin while he took my cup and his to the sink.
"Sorry, but you're usually so particular about it. Want to borrow one of MuMu's again?" He set the cups down on the rack and grabbed an apron off the hook next to our pantry.
"Uh, no? Did you forget what happened last time?" I shuddered, remembering the earful I received from his mother about how proper ladies don't wear diapers and that her son was worth more than a disabled bride.
"Right," He gave a sheepish look before the sounds of breakfast wafted past his silhouette, "Sorry, I guess I'm earning this morning's text, huh?"
"What text?" I asked, appearing over his shoulder with a banana in hand.
"You know, the 'Fucking hell, Yang Zhao' one. By the way, what did you send that anyways?" He asked.
"Oh that," I paused to take a small bite of the banana before continuing, "I wash jusht... being petty, I guess.."
I turned my head to see Ghoul strutting down the hallway to where the litterbox was, only to turn back and see Alex's face stretch down and devour half of the banana in my hand.
"What the hell??" I groaned and punched his shoulder. The rest of the banana quickly disappeared into my mouth before he could swoop in for another bite.
"Still feel petty?" He asked, chuckling to himself.
"Yeah, really petty, actually. Consider your toast privileges revoked!" I said, poking his side angrily while an extra slice still made it into toaster anyways. The rest of breakfast went smoothly, with both of us taking some time to catch up with one another since life had made it recently tricky to meet up. Mu Rong, his younger sister, had been begging him to help her sneak out to meet me again due to his mother being too protective when it came to Yang Yun Zhao and the 'bad influence.' His other two brothers were doing well, the younger finishing his final year in high school in the fall, while his older one was getting ready to ship out of Xiangchun for work opportunities.
After chatting for some time, I took Yang Zhao's arm and dragged him in the living room's direction.
"Goodnight, Mom!! LOVE YOU!!!" My cheerful voice bounded down the hallway as I stood still, waiting for a reply that never came. It hurt not hearing her singsong voice respond in kind anymore from her office, but it couldn't be helped. It was just another one of those things that changed once mom caught the latest strain of minit's disease. I didn't doubt that she still tried to respond; after all, we were inseparable.
Dad died early on, leaving mom and me alone without him. My extended family was non-existent as well, seeing as dad and mom both eloped without either set of parents seeing eye to eye on the soon-to-be-married couple, so it was just us. Alone. And that was alright.
A light smile crept onto my lips as I thought about mom and dad in wedding attire, a smile blooming on each of their lips as they went through the ceremony together. I didn't have a good idea of how my dad looked, but I assumed he would've been very dashing and handsome. After all, I was a sterling example of the pairs good genetics!
Shutting the bedroom door behind me, I took a seat on the edge of my desk and pulled down my sweatpants, holding my loose-fitting shirt with my chin to reveal my wet pullup.
Yeah, a pullup. I know, but I can't help it. A few years ago, back when mom could still legally drive, we got into an accident that left me partially paralyzed. I couldn't walk and lost many bodily functions, leaving me in the hospital with almost constant supervision. Eventually, with the nurse's help and rehab, I could walk again and do almost everything normally, but the bladder issues still persisted.
We ran out of options, eventually ending therapy with a choice of medication or no medication with either a light or heavy padding. I chose to ignore the drugs because the end result would still be the same.
Mom will still give me a guilty look now and again if she accidentally catches sight of me walking around the house without pants on.
A well-practised motion later, I slipped off the rest of my sweats and brought the soggy pullup to my face to see just how much I peed. I was surprised to see it was primarily dry on the inside before I balled it up and tossed it into the sealed bin nearby. Then I slid the thick diaper I had laid out this morning under my butt and sat down.
Almost instantly, a look of discomfort formed. My left hand worked on the front tapes while the right brought the right worked the baby powder, and quickly inserted the fleshy buttplug vibrator I bought last week online. I must have left it on this morning because the vibrator was already wiggling weakly inside of my colon. As soon as I was done, I taped up the last side and flattened out the rest of the padding, ensuring both leg guards were adequately in place between my thighs and around my ass before I glomped my pillow.
Exhaustion soon settled in as I drifted off to sleep, forgetting to turn off the dingy overhead lamp as I dreamed a sweet dream.
A few hours later, I woke up and rolled to my side to face my alarm clock. It was only 10:46PM, a long way to go before morning. A pain in my gut told me all I needed to know from my bed of cosy blankets, leaving me with an ultimatum I hadn't needed to face since I got out of the hospital: To poop or not to poop.
The buttplug wasn't vibrating anymore, evidently meaning the drain on its battery life had been too much to keep it going for the rest of the night. Actually, I couldn't even feel it anymore, come to think of it. I tried pressing my fingers into the outside of my padding, looking to see if it slipped out anywhere, but another wave of discomfort washed over me as if to force an unpleasant urgency.
I need to decide.
My mind flip-flopped between the options while my body already decided what to do. My butt arched in the air as I gazed face to face with my pillowcase, both arms unstably keeping me upright as they sunk into the mattress. A groan later, and it all started. I struggled to keep my face's composure as the mound in the seat of my diaper continued to grow, only letting out a sigh of relief once everything was out.
I felt both of my cheeks blush with a vermillion hue as I soaked in reality. It had been such a long time since I ever used a diaper for... that, giving me a complicated feeling. I felt around again, kneading the padding gently before moving to an upright position on the bed to get a better view of my instinctual betrayal. And I can't say I was disappointed. The front was no longer a pure white, now tinted yellow with a faint hint of something more lurking beneath the waistband, while the back screamed the obvious: I just shat myself.
Momentarily getting lost in thought, I felt something else stir while the familiar sound of liquid hitting wet padding rang in the air. This evening, not only had I intentionally shat the bed, I unintentionally pissed it as well...
I felt shamefaced and full of disappointment in myself as I slowly sat down when I heard a small shriek for a split second that caused me to jump in my skin.
"Mom!?" I jumped, panicked and glanced around hurriedly at the bed and floor for any sight of the sound I just heard before while my anxiety meter kept increasing at a pace as steady as my racing heart. If mom was around, that means... she saw everything... I felt a lump rising in my throat as I forced it back down and closed my eyes with anticipation. There was one last place to check. Oh god...
Steeling myself for a brief moment, I flung my right leg out of the way, repositioning myself on the bed and swinging the blankets off behind me. When my eyes opened, I checked in the spot where I had just sat down on the bed. Nothing. She wasn't there; nothing was there. A massive sigh of relief adorned my waddle to the bedside, swiftly moving both legs over and plopping down.
Instantly the warmth radiated from my lower half as stale and fresh urine co-mingled with the massive poo mashed under my rear. I felt so exhausted. Mom clearly wasn't in the room, so I must have imagined it. I gazed up at the overhead lamp, both thankful it was on for that and also annoyed that it meant I'd have to get up now...
With a sigh, I got up and took a detour down the hallway to peek into moms room, spying her cigarette-box sized bed with a lump under the cloth sheets. I let out another sigh of relief and shut the door, grabbing a glass of water and heading back to my room. I closed the door behind me, flicked off the light switch and once again plopped down unceremoniously onto the bed.
I was pooped, pun totally intended.
I stared conflicted at my new burden peeking out between my legs from under my shirt. After accepting that I simply didn't have the energy to give myself a change, I drank half the glass and buried myself under the sheets for the second time that night.
Another short while later, the only thing I could remember was a faint new warmth growing between my legs before everything returned to black.
My ever faithful alarm blared in my right ear, letting me know that morning had arrived. The second thing I noticed was the heavy stench that filled the air around me. It hadn't been too bad before I went to sleep, but now after ten hours of rest, you couldn't help but notice it. I felt unexpectedly giddy and a bit... naughty at the thought of the events of last night. Like I broke some big taboo or something. I got up and peeked my head down the hall cautiously, calling out moms name but predictably getting no response.
I then poked my head into her bedroom and office before giving a shrug and padding off to the kitchen. Mom wasn't home, and even when I got to the kitchen, she hadn't left a note. If I didn't know my mom, I would've been worried, but this happened before. I freaked out and called every one, making a big fuss until she showed up back home dumbfounded. We apologized, and I promised her I wouldn't jump to conclusions anymore.
I decided to make some breakfast. Starting with a banana, I dug in while I worked on the rest of the meal. Oatmeal cooked while toast toasted, both finishing around the same time as my last bite of the banana. I figured since mom wasn't home and I was already messy, I could afford to be a little gross, so I pulled open the back of my waistband and dropped the peel in. The thought and feeling sparked a giggle-fit that almost made me pee myself as the slimy new addition cupped my cheeks like a clingy octopus.
Washing my hands at the sink, I spared no time digging into the rest of my meal, even accompanying it with a full glass of orange juice. With a clean bowl and plate, my belly bulged happily beneath my shirt. Simple breakfasts never failed to improve my mornings, so with a spring in my admittedly awkward steps, I put the dishes into the sink and started getting ready for the day.
Groans accompanied my application of eyeliner and farts donned the brushing of my hair. The more I moved, the more I woke my bodies sleeping giant, kicking off the process that every diaper would dread. I figured since I always went poop after breakfast, I could just risk it and use the diaper again. The destination was already unchanged; who would care if there was an extra passenger onboard?
The clocks dinged nine, precisely thirty minutes after I woke up and right when nature decided to call. Last nights lazy abandonment of the loo broke open the mental floodgates that prevented accidents from occurring, leaving me standing dumbfounded in the living room with a hand on my belly as the orange juice from earlier pooled at the bottom of my diaper. The padding sloshed with a large piss puddle, struggling to absorb it promptly. I had to carefully lean back to let it drain to the drier back of my diaper, unfortunately allowing it to mix with last night poo and leak a little bit from the leg guards.
It was here where I started to have doubts about my idea to stick it out until the second messing. If my diaper was already like this, would it really be able to take another three or so hours of whatever I'd end up throwing at it?
While I fretted for a while, I unconsciously shuffled back into my bedroom, pacing back and forth on the cheaply-opulent carpeting, when my eyes suddenly locked on my diaper pail.
The pull up!!
Light flooded from the sky as a massive hand reached down into the tube and brought back out a mostly dry toilet-aide from the depths... Ahem, maybe a bit too dramatic... heh.
I brought it over to my desk and quickly cut off the waistband, leaving behind a dry padded square that would fit perfectly inside my diaper. As I looked over my handiwork, I grabbed another fresh pullup from the bag nearby and did the same thing that I did to the first. Two would be plenty for the rest of the day, but I wanted to ensure I would have all the protection I needed.
If I had paid closer attention, I would've spotted a golden flash of something from within my padded prison as two new layers were shoved down the front and promptly sealed. Unfortunately for past me, I didn't.
The rest of the day zoomed by, with numerous wettings dotting the hours that left my diaper uncomfortably heavy. The stench was unbearable now, but I was determined to see the original plan through. About halfway through my newest spreadsheet, I started feeling something moving in the back of my diaper. Just as I turned away from the screen, a familiar pain in my gut said hello by releasing a massive fart that tore through my shit. I didn't have the time to figure out what it was, so I assumed my fart just reactivated the plug.
With a knowing look on my face, I slid back in my chair, folding almost in half as I felt the first log struggle to push its way into the filth. Even if I had a mirror, I don't think I would've been able to appreciate all the expressions that filled my face at that moment. My eyes rolled back before shooting forward with concentration, blushes served both of my puffed cheeks, and little moans met with the grand finale of gas.
My shit was everywhere but outside the diaper. Some of it pushed up to the front and slowly swallowed the sopping wet inserts from earlier. Another bit threatened to rise upward to the waistband but stopped short before ever reaching its goal. The majority filled the leg guards, reluctantly delaying their escape as the stalwart sentries did their duty.
I had done it. And... I felt so... so bad. I mean, I felt good too! ...but if that taboo was real, I well and truly broke it now. I almost staggered the moment I stood up, the feeling between my legs so foreign I nearly forgot how to walk. It took a lot of effort and logistics to get the diaper off without spilling its contents, even with a third of them sticking to my rear. I had decimated it. Destroyed it. And I'm not going to lie, at the time, I felt proud.
Wipe after wipe became a new addition to the mound sitting in front of me as I methodically cleared the last traces of shit off.
I used a few extra things of tape to keep it all held together before I tossed it in the pail and went to take a shower. There wasn't much point thinking of it too fondly. It was a diaper, I used it, and now I have many more.
As the first drops of water hit my breasts, my mind drifted back to where mom might be... She was late.