archivist2
Heather felt her diaper sag between her legs as she stood from her chair to answer the door. It hung, warm and swollen, under her floral sundress, although she did not notice having needed the toilet. She rarely did: she had never been potty trained. For that matter, neither was any other woman in Heather's family, and she could count the number of panty-wearing classmates she knew on one hand. Heather still vividly remembered the minor scandal when Stacy Thompson announced that she'd be "using the toilet from now on" in the eighth grade, it had been the hottest gossip for weeks. And then there was when Maggie Newman wore panties, no, lingerie (how much they must have cost!) under her homecoming dress Sophomore year to impress Shaq Jackson, but she'd been proven for a fraud a couple hours in when she'd wet herself in the middle of the dance floor, dashing her romantic ambitions. They had to turn the lights on to mop up the puddle! Poor girl. That was everyone, really, that Heather knew by name, although she did recognize the handful of girls in the halls whose skinny-jeaned rumps lacked the puffiness of their peers. That isn't to say that Heather cared a wink, though. This is how her whole life had been and neither she or most of her friends saw much abnormality in it.
Heather opened her front door to reveal that Molly had arrived to hang out. It was a hot July day and Molly was dressed accordingly: jean shorts and a tank top that revealed the waist band of her diaper when she stretched her arms. Heather and Molly had been friends their whole lives, and were trying to make the most of their final summer before going off to college. The two grabbed some chips and salsa and a bottle of coke from Heather's kitchen and went upstairs to hang out in Heather's room.
The two spent some time shooting the shit, Molly laying on her belly on Heather's floor, on her phone, while Heather lounged in the bean bag chair and munched on the tostitos, not caring whether Molly could see up her dress. Molly didn't care to look, but if she had she would have seen the pee staining Heather's diaper.
"Hey, have you heard about that big protest today?" asked Molly, scrolling through twitter.
"Yeah! The women's march, right?" Heather had seen, it was all over the news. Several of their friends were in attendance, attempting to bring more attention towards woman's issues.
"Apparently there was a big pro-potty training demonstration."
"No kidding!"
"Yeah, hundreds of ladies just peed their pants in front of the Capitol."
"That's some statement!"
"What do you think about all that?"
Heather considered it for a moment. Of course, the acceptance of toilet training for women was a hot button feminist issue, right up there with addressing rape culture and the wage gap.
"I mean, I get it, the lack of potty training for women has kept us down for ages. Like, financially alone, diaper costs do build up."
"Tell me about it."
"And all those excuses those misogynists give are such bullshit. We aren't on our period 24/7! We can control some of our bodily functions, it just sets up a needless divide where women are dependent on men for some culturally imposed 'need'."
"Fuckin' preach." said Molly, snatching up a chip.
"At the same time though, like... I'm not sure if I'd really want to be potty trained."
"Oh really?"
"Yeah, I mean, it just seems so inconvenient, right? To have to stop whatever you're doing and go to a specific room just to do your business? It just seems like such a hassle."
"I mean you still have to get changed though."
"Yeah but I feel like you have more control over that taking place."
"Not if you can actually control your bladder."
"I suppose that's true."
The silence resumed for a bit but was interrupted by a scrunching of Molly's face.
"Speaking of controlling your bladder..." At that, Molly appeared to clench a little, behavior Heather obviously recognized as Molly having a poop. She could see the seat of Molly's pants expand outwards as she laid on the floor. It was a pretty common sight. "Heather can you change me? I'll do you afterwards, I saw that you're soaked."
"Of course." Heather had downed a couple of cokes by this point, and would definitely be needing a serious change soon.
Molly shimmied out of her shorts and laid on the floor while Heather fetched the supplies, and then undid Molly's tapes. Heather was struck by the familiarity of her friend's lady parts, the small brown curls a miniature of those on Molly's head. How many times had she helped change Molly, and Molly her? It was a perfectly normal but nonetheless personal activity for two women to share. Soon enough she'd be living in a dorm at South Northeastern University West and helping to change entirely new girls whom she'd never met. As Heather was dealt with the bitter-sweetness of her thought, she could feel a renewed warmth pooling in her nether regions.
What a day it had been. That morning Heather and her parents had arrived to move in day, and a short few hours later Heather was unpacked, and her family was gone, and here she was, alone, at college. Heather could see herself in her wardrobe mirror: pale skin, freckles, long brown hair that went down to her waist, bangs. She wore the unisex orientation shirt that she’d been given on arrival and been goaded into putting on immediately, and the snug fit seemed to accent her otherwise average bust. She had on a short white pleated skirt over top of mid-length black tights. It would be impossible to tell that Heather, an eighteen year old adult woman, was wearing a (at this point, lightly used) diaper. That is, if that wasn’t the automatic, default assumption.
Heather felt her stomach cramp. The stress and anticipation, she thought, had done a number on her. She walked to her lofted bed and sprawled her upper body on top of it, burying her face in her comforter. She spread her legs slightly, let out a deep sigh, and relaxed. Almost immediately poo began to push its way into Heather’s diaper. She could feel the load press against the inside of her pants, but her elastic tights held everything firmly in place. The warm wetness at Heather’s crotch indicated her bladder was involuntarily emptying itself as well, and she smiled, feeling comforted by the familiar sensation.
Suddenly there was the sound of a key entering the lock on the door. Heather’s breath caught in her throat, and she abruptly cut off her bowel movement and stood up straight, trying to act natural but blushing intensely. The door swung open to reveal a round faced Korean girl, followed by two round faced Korean parents, a (hunky) Korean older brother, and a huge wheeled bin of dorm furniture.
“Heather! You’re already here!” the girl nearly ran at Heather in her effort to embrace her.
“Sue! Oh man!” It was Susan Lee! Duh! How could I forget my roommate was bound to show up any minute! The surprise caused the last of Heather’s mess to release itself into her tights.
“Heather it’s so nice to finally meet you!” Sue and Heather embraced in an awkward first-meeting hug. But rather than the hip-to-hip cushion that Heather usually felt when embracing other girls, her pelvic contact with Sue was met only with fabric, skin, and bone. Heather felt even more embarrassed, hopefully no one could smell her mess, what a first impression that would be! Sue didn’t appear to even notice.
“Oh man Sue I-I’m so glad you’re here! You know, though, I have to go, uh, meet with someone real quick, I’ll help you unpack when I get back!”
With that Heather darted past Sue’s family and belongings and made a beeline for the nearest changing room, gait awkward from the dirty diaper between her legs
---
The first day of orientation over, 11:30PM found Heather and Sue were relaxing in their room, reading and playing Factorio respectively. Something was on Heather’s mind. When she went to the changing room earlier - where the toilets would be, if this was the male wing - she found that, in between the showers and the changing cubicles there was, in fact, a toilet. Just for girls. She’d peeked inside and marveled at it for a couple seconds. She really hadn’t seen many toilets in her life, only in movies or TV, or maybe when she was little and her dad brought her in to the men’s restroom for a change. But here was a toilet, just for her. This school really was progressive. As was, evidently, her roommate. Heather decided she had to broach the subject before it got broached for her.
“So hey Sue, you’re... potty trained?” Heather asked, reluctantly.
“Uh, yeah, what tipped you off?” Sue seemed equally reluctant to broach the subject, but more in a sense of not wanting to humblebrag.
“When I was helping you unpack, you wear panties!” There had been a lot of them too, in all sorts of colors and patterns. As many as Heather had pairs of socks! They were as foreign to her as the toilet in the changing room, and she had been avoiding handling them when unpacking, as if they were some immensely personal, forbidden garment.
“Yeah! Me and some of my high school friends all toilet trained ourselves last year. I still have to wear pull-up ones to bed, though. Haven’t quite gotten a handle on holding it while I sleep.”
Heather was impressed but felt self conscious of the padding between her legs. Sue could tell.
“I don’t judge you for wearing diapers, don’t worry about it.” Sue said. “Most women I know do. I’ll still change you if you need, I haven’t forgotten how to do that.” Sue smiled.
Heather smiled back. “Thanks Sue, I appreciate it.”
“Hey, if you want to get continent, though, I got this pamphlet from the Feminist Student Union table at the orientation fair today.” Sue hopped off her bed and handed Heather a flier from her desk:
THURSDAY NIGHT FRESHMAN SEMINARS
FOR WOMEN: CONTINENCE TRAINING GENERAL INTEREST MEETING - NO COMMITMENT REQUIRED - SHED YOUR SOCIAL CHAIN!
FOR MEN: CONSENT, SAFE SEX, AND HOW TO CHANGE YOUR GIRL’S DIAPER
SNACKS AND BEVERAGES PROVIDED
SPONSORED BY THE FEMINIST STUDENT UNION
Heather flipped through the pamphlet. “Huh, maybe I’ll go.”
Posted May 5, 2018
Come Thursday, Heather was seated in the second row of the auditorium along with twenty-odd other diapered freshmen. Her diaper was already wet, and was fairly conspicuous under her sporty hiking shorts. Heather gave her crotch a surreptitious squeeze, feeling incredibly self conscious when faced with the representatives from the FSU, all of whom wore tight pants or leggings that showed off their lack of reliance on protection. On woman’s panty line was especially apparent, and she was the first to speak.
“Hello everyone, welcome to our General Interest Meeting, my name’s Katie, I’m a junior studying microbiology, and I’m the president of the FSU this sem. We’re here because we want to help the women in our community be the strongest and most independent they can be. Tonight, as you all know, we’re going to be discussing continence training.”
Another girl wrote the words CONTINENCE TRAINING up on the whiteboard. Katie continued.
“That’s right, CONTINENCE training. I know many of you probably refer to this process as ‘potty training,’ but we here feel that this term devalues women who endeavor to better themselves. We are not little boys! We are adult women wresting back some measure of control over our bodies.”
“The global trend of female incontinence is detrimental to society and women especially on many fronts. Ecologically, waste from women’s incontinence products is the second largest contributor to climate change after industrial agriculture. Womens’ waste is a major issue in our systems of infrastructure as it is necessarily not treated the same way as mens’. Socially, though, women’s incontinence is wielded by men to make women out as inferior, unable to control their bodies, and unfit for many tasks. I’m sure all of you ladies can remember times when you or your friends were singled out by men for your use of protection.”
Heather didn’t need to think hard: high school gym. Swimming, especially, was the worst. Even though lanes were segregated by sex, the boys still always jeered and complained about not wanting to swim in girls’ pee. This was deeply embarrassing, but not a lie: the school-issue girl’s swimsuits were not built to absorb urine. The padding around the suit’s nether regions was made only to contain messier events. It was not uncommon, in the girls’ lanes, to feel the water warm up around you as you waited for your turn, as the person behind you emptied their bladder.
Everyone, even Stacy Thompson, had to wear the swimsuit, and they were despised among the girls for how their contrasted their developing bodies with the conspicuous padding at the crotch. The worst part, though, was when one of the girls inevitably did go number two. Come the end of the session, several girls would always leave the pool with conspicuous bulges at their behinds and thus become the object of the most brutal bullying from the boys for the day. For something they had no control over! Heather was filled with the memory of rage.
Katie could apparently tell that her rhetorical question had dredged up some memories for her audience, and she smiled.
“Well then, if you ladies choose to embark on this path, today will mark the first day of the rest of your lives! Starting today you are going to assert dominance over your bodies, and we at the FSU are going to help. We’re going to pass out a sign up sheet now.”
A few girls left the room at this point, but Katie continued as the sheet went around. “Alright, so the first step to control is awareness. You need to be able to know when you have to go, and make for the toilet as soon as you feel the urge. I assume at the moment very few of you are even aware that you’re going. We’re going to go through an exercise to get you on your way. I want all of you to try to sense your bladder, and try and make yourself pee in your diapers. I know this sounds a bit backwards, I know, but the first step to recovery is acceptance, as they say. It’s better to go in your pants, but intentionally, than to lose control of yourself. When you’ve managed, raise your hand.”
Heather tried to feel her need to pee within herself. Luckily for her, she’d drank a great deal before the meeting, and the feeling wasn’t the hardest to locate - a dull pain in her abdomen. After a few test pushes, Heather felt the pee begin to rush out of her into her protection, swelling her shorts even more and warming her crotch. But she did it! She peed on purpose! Heather raised her hand, elated. Heather looked around to realize that she was at the front of the pack, and most were either very conspicuously peeing themselves or attempting to. Soon, all hands were raised.
“Wow everyone, great job! I know this part can be hard, and honestly it's the hardest part: just being aware of when you have to go. Here’s how the rest of this is going to work. From here on out you all are done with diapers. We have a free pack of women’s pull-up training pants up here for each of you, and you’ll want to switch to these until you’ve completed the program. You should also pick up one of these calendars and a roll of stickers: each day you go without a daytime accident mark it with a sticker and then bring the calendar to each week’s FSU meeting. If you make it three weeks consecutively, you get a free pack of panties!”
Katie took an example pair off the table and held them up to show them to the crowd. They had the FSU logo on the waistband and a cartoon of Rosie the Riveter on the back. In that moment, they were the most inspiring thing Heather had ever seen.
Heather’s first week of class was largely a success. She found messy accidents easy to notice and control, only caught off guard the first time she drank a cup of coffee. One second she was chatting with some new friends in the dining hall and the next a terrible urge to poo led her to fill her pull-up mid-conversation. Of course, none of these new friends were at all fazed by one of their ranks suddenly pooping their pants. It happened all the time.
Heather’s wetting was coming under control as well, although she was still having trouble telling when exactly she should head for the toilet. She had wet herself in her first three classes before realizing that she should probably make herself use the toilet before each one. These pull-ups were absorbent enough to take a desperate soaking, but would definitely not stand up to more than one wetting at a time.
Night time was another story entirely. Heather had been trying to at least empty her bladder before bed but this seemed to help little and nine times out of ten she seemed to wake up soaked. She did wake up dry, once, but she didn’t stay dry for long. Her body evidently woke her up because of how bad she had to go, and she barely managed to jump out of bed before wetting herself. At the time, she had only sighed, looked at the clock to see that it was only 5:00AM, and hopped straight into bed without changing to fall back asleep. But hey, it was progress.
In public, Heather found that ditching her diapers made others look at her differently. She caught boys staring when they hadn’t before, particularly at her butt. Girls, too, as if to size her up. The slimness of her pull-ups brought Heather unexpected social clout, people seemed to view her as more authoritative and responsible. It was a conversation starter too, and Heather had directed several other freshman girls to the FSU when they had asked how she had gotten started.
One girl who didn’t seem to care in the least bit was Sadie, one of the members of Heather’s growing group of new friends. She just couldn’t see what all the fuss was about, and told Heather as much as the two ate lunch together that Thursday.
“I just don’t see what all the fuss is about, Heath,” said Sadie, a girl with big hair who’s diaper Heather had already changed on multiple occasions. “It seems like such a big hassle, I like being able to just do my business no matter what!”
“You know Sadie, I used to think that way too, but I’ve realized it’s not about that. It’s about having control over your body, and being able to make the decision of where to… empty yourself.” One thing Heather did not factor in to all of this was how many times she was going to have to explain herself to others.
“Yeah but like, okay, do you have to pee right now?”
“Well, I didn’t but now that I’m thinking about it maybe, thanks for that.”
“Alright, well I’m peeing right now. As we speak! I can feel it filling up my diaper, it’s so nice and warm-”
“Stop it! You’re going to make me have to go!”
“But I made that decision, you know? It’s a way more convenient choice, I think.” At that point Sadie sighed, seemingly indicating that she did, in fact, just wet herself, and that she was now finished. Heather could feel her own need beginning to grow. Damn it, Sadie.
“You made the decision? What do you mean, do you have control over it? I’m still struggling a little with that myself.”
“Well yeah, my parents actually tried to potty train me when I was little.”
Heather was sort of shocked. “Wait, seriously? What happened to that?”
“Well what happened was, they were helping my little brother with it, and my mom decided that her daughter would be brought up continent! I might have been in the first grade at the time. But I wasn’t having any of it, I learned to control my business but at the same time just kept going in my pants no matter what my parents tried. Three years and many soiled pairs of panties later they caved and let me wear diapers again. I actually… enjoy it? I don’t know, but it’s nice. Warm.”
As Sadie told her story she watched a look of fear and confusion spread across Heather’s face. Heather could not believe that this girl was such an advocate for going in her pants.
“Well, I mean, I guess that’s your decision then.” said Heather, after a silence.
“Yeah, we may have to just agree to disagree on this one.” Sadie responded.
At that Heather stood up. “Well, in the interest of not peeing my own pants, I think I’m off to the toilet!”
“Hey wait up, I do need a change!” And at that, the girls left the dining hall in search of the facilities.
Heather sat on a sofa, questioning why she’d come to this party. She held a cheap beer in her hand, which tasted terrible, and felt lonely as she watched the attendees tipsily socialize. Except for Sadie, they were all acquaintances at best. Heather took another sip of her beer, as if to try and force herself to get into the vibe. Bleh.
Sadie had invited her as Heather changed Sadie’s diaper the previous day. Sadie had led Heather into the changing cubicle, hopped up onto the table, and hitched up her dress to reveal her diaper, which was legitimately soaked. The conversation started as Heather began to undo the tapes.
“So Heath, there’s this party I’m going to tomorrow night. There should be some cool people there, you should totally come!”
Heather felt mixed on the proposal. On one hand, this would be her first real college party, and maybe a good way to meet new people. On the other hand, this would be her first real college party. Back in high school Heather hadn’t been much of a partier, simply by virtue of not being invited to any. Her and Molly had preferred to have sleepovers with a few of their other friends, and they’d play games and eat snacks and watch movies, but nothing so escandaloso. There was never any alcohol, or boys for that matter.
“Man Sadie, I don’t know… I’m not sure if it’s my vibe, exactly…” said Heather as she pulled the swollen diaper out from under Sadie’s bum.
“Oh come on Heather, you’ve got to do this at least once! We’re in college now! Besides, you’ll never know if you enjoy partying unless you give it a shot. Plus, your best friend will be there.”
Heather closed the fresh diaper around Sadie’s crotch “...you?”
“Duh.” said Sadie with a sarcastic smile.
So here she was. On the couch. Not really talking to anyone, and not sure how to or if she even wanted to. Sadie had disappeared to dance or something, somewhere.
Suddenly Heather felt someone sit down on the couch next to her.
“Hi, I’m Scott!”
Heather turned to see the cutest boy she’d yet witnessed at this party. He was black, with short hair and big, brown, friendly eyes.
“Oh, h-hi! I didn’t see you walk over! My name’s Heather.”
“I think I recognize you from something… Bio I, right?”
“Oh are you in that class? I’m so sorry, it’s so big, I must not have noticed you.”
Scott seemed a bit flustered. “Oh, well… I noticed you.”
Heather was unable to contain the look that flashed across her face. Holy FUCK, she thought, he’s trying to FLIRT with me!! FUCK. She’d never been very good with boys. She’d dated her stand partner for two years back in high school marching band, but how she landed that she had no idea.
“Well I’ll certainly notice you now! That’s for sure. I haven’t really met a ton of people at this party.”
“Yeah, I saw you sitting over here and thought you looked like you needed someone to talk to!”
“You know, I really do.” Heather smiled, and Scott smiled back. She took a sip of her beer, it didn’t taste so bad anymore.
Suddenly she felt a newly familiar pang in her bladder. Fuck x2.
“Hey Scott, I’d like to keep talking but I’ll have to be right back!” and without waiting for him to respond Heather shot up and made for the bathroom, swaying a bit from the effects of the alcohol. She found it unoccupied, locked the door behind her, pulled down her pull-up from under her dress, and began to pee in the toilet. Success.
Posted May 7, 2018
One thing led to another, and midnight found Heather and Scott making out drunkenly in a secluded corner of the house. Their clothes were still on, but their hands were all over each other; Heather hadn’t thought twice when he had began to feel her breasts, and had begun to caress Scott’s ass in response. Neither of them were really thinking twice about anything, for that matter.
Heather had felt the pressure build in her abdomen, but the alcohol had done its work, and leaving to use the toilet again seemed like to high a price to pay for continuing to speak to Scott. Over the course of their conversation they’d inched closer and closer together before finally sharing a kiss and then both getting up knowingly to find a spot to themselves. As they began to make out, Heather could feel her bladder emptying itself into her pull-up, and while the rational part of her brain knew that this broke her streak, the drunk, horny part simply didn’t care.
That is, until she felt Scott’s hand on her thigh. She could feel it inch it’s way up under her dress, finally making contact with the tip of her wet pull-up, at which point she wrenched away from Scott in embarrassment.
“Scott, I, I’m so sorry, I’ve had an accident, I need to go home and change.”
Scott was confused. He’d never gotten this far with a girl, but why wouldn’t she have had an accident? Girl’s wore diapers, that was just a given.
“No, it’s ok! Why are you embarrassed? Girl’s just go in their diapers it’s fine, I understand.”
“No you don’t understand.” Heather nearly yelled, drunkenly, tears welling in her eyes. “I’ve been trying to toilet train myself, so I’m not dependent on protection anymore! I broke my streak...”
Scott gave Heather a hug. She could feel his boner digging in to her through his pants. “Heather, it’s alright. It happens, even to potty trained girls.” Or so he’d heard. The only thing he knew is that he really dug a girl in panties. Heather only sniffled as she reciprocated the hug.
“Thank you for being so understanding. It’s so late though, I really should be going home.”
“Do you need help? I could change you if you’re too drunk to manage.”
Heather was floored. This was basically an invitation for sex!
“S-sure! That’d be so nice of you!” She gave him another kiss and the two left the house at which the party had been thrown, Scott’s arm on Heather’s waist.
---
Halfway to Heather’s dorm, she felt the pressure build once again. They weren’t nearly close enough for her to make it. And she didn’t know how much more her pull-up could hold.
“Scott, I really have to go again. I don’t think I can make it.”
Scott shifted his arm, which was wrapped around Heather’s waist. “Don’t worry about it Heather, you can clean up when you get home.”
Heather gave a sigh and let go. As she predicted, the hot pee quickly overflowed her pull-up and cascaded down her legs, pattering on the sidewalk. As soon as she finished, she smiled apologetically at Scott. He responded with a kiss.
---
Heather and Scott arrived at Heather’s door. She took a deep breath and unlocked it, walking inside. Sue was nowhere to be seen. Heather turned and beckoned Scott inside with her eyes, and they resumed making out as the door swung shut behind them.
“So… do you want to have sex? Or were you just being altruistic?” Heather whispered into Scott’s ear.
“B-both, I guess.”
“Alright then.”
Heather hopped on to her bed and lifted her dress to expose her soaking wet pull-up. She began to take it off when Scott interrupted her.
“Wait a second.”
Scott had taken his own pants off, giving Heather a full look at his erection. He fished a condom out of his wallet, put it on, and climbed on to the bed.
“Is this your first time?” Scott asked.
“Yes.”
“Me too.” said Scott, tearing open the sides of Heather’s pull-up.
Heather said goodbye to Sue as she left their dorm room. She seemed like she’d come out of her shell since move-in day, Sue thought, her increase in confidence was palpable. The first couple of days Heather been somewhat shy, even blushing in embarrassment during the incredibly routine interaction of Sue changing her wet diaper for her. Sue assumed part of is was self-consciousness over rooming with someone who was toilet trained, even though Sue had told Heather not to worry about it. Still, when it was quiet, Sue could hear the tell-tale hiss of Heather peeing herself, during which Heather seemed to avoid her gaze.
This had only been a for a few days, though, really, because the night of the FSU interest meeting Heather had come home with a noticeably smaller bulge at her backside,a pack of training diapers under her arm, a smile on her face, and the announcement that she was going to be wearing panties before Sue knew it. Even the fact that Heather had wet her first pull-up on the walk back didn’t seem to deter her optimism.
And THEN, two nights ago, Sue had come back late from hanging out with some of her new friends to find Heather in bed with a BOY. They were passed out in Heather’s bed, cuddling, with their clothes strewn about the floor. Nice one, Heather. Heather had apologized the following afternoon for fucking in their room, as she stripped the sheets off her bed to throw them in the wash. Apparently, Heather and the boy (who’s name, Sue learned, was Scott) had fallen right asleep naked after their lovemaking sesh, and without protection Heather had peed all over both of them in the middle of the night. Scott didn’t seem to care though, judging by the kiss the two shared on his departure. Sue wasn’t really that annoyed, mostly just happy for Heather, who seemed now to stand two feet taller.
Sue’s thoughts, for the moment, turned back to Factorio. She’d tentatively declared her major as Mechanical Engineering with a minor in logistics, and couldn’t really tell whether her academic interests drove her Factorio addiction, or the other way around. Today the weather was crummy out, and Sue had finished most of her homework, so, Factorio afternoon it was. Sue was sitting on her bed with her laptop on her lap. In the interest of comfort, she wore an MCR t-shirt with no bra and a pair of sweatpants over top of a pair of purple cotton panties. Her hair was dark with bright red highlights, and frankly all over the place as she had not yet taken a shower or even bothered to brush it. She wondered if she’d even leave her room today.
As if in answer, Sue felt a sudden pain in her bladder. Well of course she’d leave her room, she was going to have to go pee eventually. Sooner than later. Truth be told, she missed wearing diapers in situations like these. Back in middle school her and her friends had been able to lounge about in their pajamas playing Minecraft without having to ever get up, as they all just did their business in their pants. As an adult though, the benefits certainly outweighed the ability to be lazy.
Another pang. Dang it. Judging by her need Sue would normally have gotten up to use the toilet ages ago, but she nearly had enough resources for a new train line that would quadruple her factory’s throughput. Just a little longer, and then she’d get up.
A few minutes later, she lost control, and leaked into her panties. Fuck, she had to go so bad. Just a few more tracks. With her right hand still on the trackpad, she shoved her left into her pants to hold herself. The wet spot was larger than she expected. Shit.
Sue bounced her leg in desperation. Soon she would get up. Soon. Although she didn’t know how much longer she could hold it. God, if only she had a diaper on, she wouldn’t have to worry. Finally succumbing, she paused her game and hopped out of bed, allowing another spurt to escape, this one visible on her sweat pants. Sue had been here before. It wasn’t that long ago that she’d been toilet training herself and learning her limits, and right now she had definitely passed hers. She needed to pee NOW, or she was going to go in her pants. Sue weighed her options. The bathroom was down the hall, which would require walking, which would require moving her legs. She wasn’t sure if she’d make it. But maybe there was another way?
Sue darted over to Heather’s dresser and began to root through it. Surely there was a diaper in here! T-shirts, no, pull-ups, not absorbent enough, socks, damnit. Where were her diapers? Had she already thrown them all out?! Sue pulled open a drawer full of bras as she suddenly felt herself lose control. Tears welled in her eyes as her bladder gave out, releasing her pee into her sweat pants. Sue watched, paralyzed, as her inner legs darkened and a puddle began to form at her feet. No! Her streak! She’d been doing so well, that she’d nearly forgotten it was something she had once kept track of.
A few deep breaths, however, and she regained her composure and her bladder control. Man had she made a mess. Thank goodness Heather was gone, Sue could probably clean this up and do a load of laundry before she even got back. On that note, this wasn’t like being back at home, with her parents and brother: she was really completely alone. And still had to pee. No one would ever know about this, for real. Sue smiled, feeling a bit naughty about what she was about to do. She looked down at her drying pants to see them darken again in earnest, as Sue emptied her bladder the rest of the way on to the floor.
"Hey guys hold up, I'm pooping."
Karen almost careened into Bethany as Beth stopped abruptly, hunching over to fill her diaper. Stopping herself and backing up, Karen could see her Sorority sister's yoga pants expand outwards as she pooped.
"Jesus Karen, I almost spilled my latte!" said Beth. She hadn't, though, and neither had Karen, who clutched her own warm beverage as she messed herself on the quad.
Stacy, who had been leading the group, turned around. "Really Karen, couldn't you hold it till we got there? We're gonna be late!"
"I'm sorry guys, you know what coffee does to me." Karen said apologetically.
Stacy began to resume moving towards their destination, as if trying to coerce her sisters to do the same. "Can't you like, go while you walk?"
"No! Can you?"
Karen's poop lasted less than a minute, and then the group was off again.
The three girls made it in time for the start of their calculus midterm, and sat next to each other in the middle of the room. Karen couldn't say she liked sitting down after she'd made a mess, but it sure was a lot better than getting a 0 for missing her exam.
The test had six questions, and Beth began to wet herself on question two. As she worked on solving for the volume of a draining bathtub, she felt her pee drain out of her as well, into her diaper. She let out a sigh as her bottom half warmed, knowing that now she'd have an easier time concentrating on the math. Unfortunately, that wasn't to be. Although it had taken longer, the coffee had gone through her like it had gone through Karen, and she could feel the imminent urge to mess herself.
Stacy, for her part, had been wet the whole time. She'd been the last awake and had to rush out the door in sweatpants and a sweatshirt, not able to change her soaked night time diaper. Stacy peed herself during the third question, and from the swelling could tell that her diaper was at its limit. Fear set in at the prospect of wetting the auditorium seat, and she redoubled her problem solving efforts.
Around the fifth question, Beth was sweating. She had to poop so bad, but she just couldn't do it in her seated position. Beth would be the first to admit that her control of her number two's wasn't exactly stellar, but even when she tried to relax and fill her pants there was simply nowhere for it to go. She needed relief but had no time to stand up and let it out - the clock was ticking.
Karen was doing just fine. She had studied well and been lucky, in some sense, to lose control before the test. While cleaning up later was going to be a pain, she needed a shower anyway, and in the moment she was comfortable. She had no urinary continence to speak of so pee escaped into her diaper periodically, but the diaper had been dry before her mess on the quad, so there was plenty of time before she'd have to worry.
Stacy wasn't so lucky. With only a bit of the sixth question to go, she lost what little control she had and felt her crotch warm as she began to pee. Her diaper could take no more. She felt wetness begin to soak into her sweat pants and warm her legs before pooling on her chair. Thankfully, Stacy thought, none spilled on to the floor. Her face beet red, she finished her exam, turned it in at the front of the lecture hall (wet butt in full view), and sped as fast as she could out into the hall.
Beth noticed her friend's accident and felt a sympathy that did not help her own desperation at all. She managed to complete her test and, straining, turn it in without messing herself, but halfway out of the room she lost control. Beth messed herself while standing in the aisle, in full view of the other 100 students taking the exam. Regaining composure, she left the room.
The two girls waiting for the remaining sister outside, commiserating about their testing experiences.
"Man, I'm so sorry that happened to you!" exclaimed Beth. "The couple of times I've leaked in class I've been so embarrassed!"
Stacy wiped a small tear from her eye. "It's OK, I think. I think I did well on the test, which is what matters."
"Well, that's good." Beth, though, was shifting uneasily from foot to foot. "Man, I really do have to go more though."
"Then just go! I think we all have to head back home to clean up anyway. Besides, I think I have more on the way as well."
Beth nodded, sighed, and began to push the rest of her mess into her pants. Stacy wasn't far behind - Beth watched as dark patches spread down Stacy's legs and on to the floor as she wet herself yet again. They spent a few minutes calmly going to the bathroom in their pants before Karen appeared, smiling.
"Hey girls, how was the test for you? I think I crushed it!"
Chapter 9
Bryce didn't love the fact that he was wearing a pull-up at this house party, but it was for the best. The only thing worse than getting so drunk you pee your pants is everyone noticing that you're peeing your pants, after all. Besides, he kept telling himself, it wasn't that out of the ordinary. In a world where around 75% of adult women were never toilet-trained, something like 5% of men still wore diapers in one context or another, more than the number with red hair or green eyes.
Bryce's situation was pretty typical, really. His parents started potty training around the fourth grade, but even though he managed to stay dry during the day by Middle School like the rest of his friends, he just wasn't able to stay dry at night. They consulted with their pediatrician who told them, once Bryce turned sixteen or so, that it was perfectly okay if he wanted to just give up, citing the aforementioned 5% of men. So, they did. Accepting it was good for him, honestly - he cared more about "failing" in the abstract than he ever did about wetting the bed. His older sisters still wore diapers during the day, after all. And even though he was often the only boy at a sleepover still in a pull-up, he only ever endured some light teasing. All his friends clearly remembered their own bed-wetting days, it wasn't that long ago.
Things changed when Bryce started drinking. Technically, the first time he'd drank was when his friend Tony stole his parents' vodka, but even though Bryce had wet himself, he had already been wearing his pajamas and hadn't thought much of his wet pull-up the next morning. But come Freshman year of college at South Northeastern University West he full-on pissed his pants at the first frat party he attended. The lesson had been clear: he needed protection if he was going to be drinking. So tonight, as with every time he partied, he had worn one of his bedtime pull-ups under his jeans and tucked a spare into the interior pocket of his coat.
Bryce's pull-ups were similar to the disposable bed-wetting underwear you might be familiar with. With so many people dependent on incontinence products, the industry was as colossal as it was technologically advanced. Bryce's pull-ups were sized to fit an adult man, with enough space for his adult male anatomy, while also keeping a thin profile that wasn't prone to showing through his pants. They had a soft, almost fabric-like texture and came in a variety of masculine colors and patterns (the ones Bryce had right now had grey monochrome stripes).
Bryce didn't like to admit how much he appreciated the FOR MEN branding. The truth was, like many men, he had an internalized bias linking diapers and femininity. Football was for boys, cheer-leading for girls; dogs were boys, cats were girls; toilets were for boys, diapers were for girls. It was a toddler-level gender binary, but it was baked into most people.
Feminists and LGBTQ+ activists were making gains in this area, but if you wore diapers as a man, the association with homosexuality and general gender-nonconformity went deep. It was true that diapers were a major component of drag, and many ostracized "men in diapers" were often trans people who were trying to gain or lose continence as part of their transition. Bryce knew all this in the analytical part of his brain, but in his lizard brain, he wanted to have sex with cishet women, and cishet women wanted a strong, virile man that didn't piss his pants.
This is all to say, Bryce was a bit insecure. He wanted to get his dick wet at this party and was worried that the girls he liked wouldn't be into him if he literally got his dick wet at the party. He'd been invited by one of his friends on the baseball team and had jumped at the opportunity because of the odds that his crush, Kenzie from the softball team, would be there. And lo and behold, she was, amongst the thirty or so other guests. The true miracle was that Kenzie seemed to barely know anyone else, and was gravitating towards Bryce as her closest acquaintance. This could go really well for him, as long as she didn't find out about his pull-up, which he'd already wet a bit into while talking to her.
Kenzie was tall, white, with brown eyes and long blonde hair which flowed around her shoulders. Bryce was used to seeing Kenzie at the baseball diamond before or after practice, where her hair would be up in a pony-tail, and she'd be all sweaty and smell like piss. Even before the ongoing revolution in womens' toilet training, many womens' sports did away with diapers to maximize freedom of movement, and softball was no different. The softball uniforms were designed to wick away moisture and dry fast while holding in any solids, and the athletes were expected to simply do their business in their pants at the most opportune moment and carry on. They were encouraged to do this in the dugout during a game to minimize interruptions, and the mens' team always teased the womens' team for not wiping the benches down well enough. During practice, though, the women tended to just piss and shit their pants, even the women that could hold it. It's just what you did.
So that's the context in which Bryce knew Kenzie: sweaty after practice with pee stains down to her ankles, and occasionally a small lump in the seat of her pants. Despite how you, the reader, may feel, this wasn't a turn on or a turn off for Bryce. It's just kind of how women... were? Sure, there were some misogynistic gay men who cited a repulsion towards women pissing and shitting themselves as a reason they weren't interested. But if you did like women, full pants were just part of the deal, and generally nonsexual, unless you were kinky like that. Changing your partner's diaper was key to a healthy relationship. Bryce had changed his high school girlfriends all the time and wouldn't have been able to count the amount of women in soiled pants he'd casually interacted with if you had asked him. That said, it was nice now to encounter Kenzie all cleaned up and smelling like perfume for the first time.
For all Bryce had put Kenzie on a pedestal, she was wearing a bit of a basic bitch outfit: a sweater with a short skirt and tall socks. This was the trend right now, a style borne out of practicality. The logic went that boys these days liked girls who weren't padded, so you wanted to give the appearance of wearing panties as much as possible. In practice, though, most girls weren't toilet trained, and opted for thin pull-ups so they could stay protected with minimal bulge. And if beer was flowing freely, girls would be changing their pull-ups a lot. Thus: skirts and thigh highs, to stay as warm as possible while still being able to pull their diapers on and off around their shoes. Usually, at parties like this one, of the house's bedrooms would be designated as a "girls' room". The hosts would leave a lidded trashcan and cover the bed in towels for those wearing bulkier padding. But the pull-up girls would stream in and out pretty continuously, casually removing their wet pull-ups around the other women and replacing them with a fresh ones from their purses.
Of course, pull-ups were much more prone to leaking than a normal diaper, and plenty of girls went home at the end of the night with damp socks. But the girls pioneering the fashion were trying to get laid, and they found that once guys put a hand up their skirts it didn't seem to matter much to them how wet it was in there.
And while more and more girls were potty training these days, many that wore panties in their day-to-day and even to bed chose to wear some kind of diaper when they were out drinking, just like Bryce. It simply wasn't worth the risk of ruining somebody's couch, so many just put on a pull-up (if you didn't have any laying around, you could always borrow from a diapered friend) and didn't bother using the actual bathrooms at all. In many ways, the frat party experience had changed little from the days when women were banned from using the restroom by law. If a girl did wear her panties to a party, well, you could tell. Dry panties were a status thing and a turn on for a lot of guys these days, so if a girl's panties were dry, she'd want people to be able to tell.
Such a girl would wear thin white skinny jeans that you could just about see her bright, colorful panties through, and which were sure to show an accident. That, or an incredibly short skirt or dress. They didn't tend to be precious about crossing their legs and you were bound to get a solid panty shot or two from these types. For many, these sorts of outfits were paramount to nudity, and the girls that wore them as particularly promiscuous. Most womens' bottoms were a bit bulky, either long flowy skirts or pants cut specifically to look flattering when worn over a full diaper. But if a girl was wearing skinny jeans, either she was wearing panties or her poorly disguised pull-up would leak down her pants by the end of the night.
Even if a girl was wearing panties, that was no guarantee she'd end the night dry. Past a certain point of drunkenness it was pretty common for toilet trained women to just give up on their bladder, especially if they really had to pee on the walk home. Like in sports, wetting on the way back from a night out was pretty normalized. The assumption was that women couldn't hold their pee, so no one found a woman in wet pants that odd, so why bother holding it if you were drunk and going to change clothes anyway? If you slept around a lot with women it benefitted you to keep womens' diapers around like you would condoms.
The distinction is whether these girls carried spare diapers around with them, to be clear. All of them would be wetting the bed after drinking. Even girls who didn't tend to wet the bed usually at least put on a pull-up after a night of drinking. The advice was usually to chug as much water as you could before bed to avoid a hangover, and if you didn't wet your diaper in your sleep you did something wrong. A lot of girls found it comforting to wear a diaper during a hangover, anyway. There was nothing quite like waking up feeling like shit and then realizing you can just poop your pants in bed and fall back asleep.
All of these thoughts swirled around in Bryce's mind as he flirted with Kenzie throughout the night. His own diaper was getting heavier, but it seemed like Kenzie was wearing a pull-up too, so maybe she wouldn't mind? He was worried that Kenzie was toilet trained and would judge him for being a man in a wet diaper when she was bone dry. But... he saw her go up to the changing room with some other girls, so surely she was padded, right? But maybe she was just helping them change. But then again, she always wet her pants at softball practice! They all did that though, so maybe that wasn't conclusive evidence either. The only way he'd know for sure is if he got in her pants to see for himself, and that might be too late. For now, though they were really hitting it off. Kenzie inched closer to him on the couch, and when he put an arm over her shoulder she didn't resist. Eventually, both quite drunk, Kenzie turned to him and asked if he could help her use the bathroom. Bryce's heart nearly jumped out of his mouth - this was the moment of truth. Things were about to either go really well, or as bad as possible.
They stood up off the couch, and Bryce winced as he felt how heavy his pull-up was between his legs. He needed a change soon and there ws no way Kenzie wasn't going to notice. She was going to find out sooner or later, though. Bryce followed Kenzie upstairs towards the girls' room. As they climbed the stairs, he surreptitiously trying to sneak a peek up her skirt to confirm her underwear situation. No dice, though. At the top of the stairs, and seemingly alone, Kenzie turned around towards him. She nodded in the direction of an open door, not the bathroom, and not the girls' room either. He looked at her quizzically, and she grabbed his hand and pulled him inside, locked the door behind them, and started making out in the darkness of whoever's bedroom this was.
Bryce's heart was about to beat out of his chest. It did not take long for Kenzie's roaming hands to find her way to Bryce's crotch and feel the swollen padding underneath his jeans.
"Are you wearing a diaper?"
"I'm sorry, I-"
Kenzie interrupted him before he could even begin blubbering out his embarrassed explanation. "A diaper boy... I thought so, you haven't used the bathroom all night, have you?" she squeezed his crotch even harder, and Bryce thought he could feel a drip of pee run down his leg. "I've always wondered what diaper boy dick tasted like..." She resumed kissing him as she started unbuttoning his pants. "Would you like that? Do you want me to lick all the pee off your cock, diaper boy?"
Bryce was speechless and could barely believe what was happening. He stammered out a "Y-yeah" as Kenzie dropped his jeans and started playing with his full pull-up.
"If I lick you clean, you've gotta lick me clean after, deal?" Kenzie got down on the floor and began pulling Bryce's pull-up down around his knees. His penis sprang out of it as it was freed from containment.
Honestly, Bryce had been dreaming of eating Kenzie's pussy. But there was still something he wanted to know. "Deal. But, didn't you say you needed help in the bathroom?"
Kenzie tossed her hair to the side and looked up at him. "I'm wearing a diaper, idiot. Every room is the bathroom." With that, she grabbed his dick and stuck it in her mouth.