Incontinent

This is my first time so please be kind with me :3

"I swear Ellie, if your going to keep wetting yourself like a baby, then I'm going to put you in diapers like one." Ellie's mother scolded as she unfolded a large adult diaper, laying it out on the sofa and beckoning her daughter to sit on it.

Ellie blushed furiously as her panties were roughly yanked off.

"Mom! No. I don't need diapers. It's just an infection or stress or something." Ellie protested, laying down on the sofa. Her displeasure was in fact an act. Unbenowest to her mother Ellie had finally achieved her goal of being put back in diapers. She had been staging 'accidents' for a week now, careful to wet her pants only in the presence of her mother. She didn't want her friends finding out about this. It was an extreme solution to achieving her aim but Ellie didn't know how to speak to her mother about her secretive desires.

Ellie's mother proceeded to diaper her daughter for the first time since she had been a baby.

"Well, I've bought a whole package of these adult diapers for you. You are going to wear every single one of them before I let you wear panties like a big girl again. That's if you can stay dry. If you're still wetting by the time we get to eng of the package. I'll be buying you more. Understood?“

Ellie nodded to her Mother's ultimatum. Internally she was grinning, she had no intention of remaining dry over the next couple of weeks.

"Another thing. Baby girls don't wear grown up clothes."

Ellie gasped and struggled for real this time as her mother stripped her naked, depriving her of even her bra, leaving her nude, aside from her diaper.

"I've ordered some adult onsies online but until the arrive you'll be toddling around in just your diapers sweetie. Don't be embrassed. Little babies who aren't embrassed about wetting themselves also aren't ashamed of being nakey."

Jenny Poos Her Panties

In order to get things started, here’s a story that I wrote years ago and posted on wetset.net and asstr.

Jenny checked her watch again, and found it only a minute since she had last checked it.  The lecture was due to finish quarter of an hour ago, but the lecturer seemed in no hurry.  Jenny was beginning to get quite anxious, she was desperate to use the toilet, but this wasn’t unusual for her. Jenny had enjoyed holding on and pretending to have accidents in her panties for years.  She was in her final year at university now, but had been pooping and peeing herself since she the start of high-school.

A sharp pain in her side brought Jenny’s mind back to her predicament.She really needed to poo, having not done so for over 2 days now.  Jenny had been holding on, hoping to get through her morning’s lectures and back to her house for the afternoon.  Neither of her housemates would be at home until late that night and Jenny had planned on having some fun in their absence.  Now the pressure to poop was becoming almost unbearable.  Jenny shuffled in her seat and pulled the waistband of her stretch jeans away from her stomach slightly, so as to ease the pressure a little.  She was already getting very excited at the thoughts of all the things she might like to do as soon as she got home.  She loved to mess and wet herself in virtually every way you could imagine, but of course Jenny had her favourites.

She pictured herself at home, lying on her bed wearing just a pair of cotton panties - white sloggi’s, deep cut at the side they were definitely Jenny’s favourite style of panties for pooping in.  The cut at the sides held them up close and they hugged her bottom and her crotch tightly, though not so tightly that there wasn’t room enough to hold a good load of poo snugly up against her bottom in their full-cut seat.  Tight fitting white cotton panties always reminded Jenny of the accident she’d had at home aged 12 when she’d first realised how good pooping herself felt.  In Jenny’s mind she saw herself in her favourite position this afternoon, lying on her front on her bed.  Her panties stretched tightly over her bottom, her hand slowly caressing her crotch as she slowly, slowly filled her panties with first hard firm poop, which she had to strain to push out against her panties, and then finally with softer poo which coated her bottom in the most sensual way.  Yes, Jenny decided, that would be the first thing she would do this afternoon after she got home.

By now Jenny was getting desperate for the lecture to finish, she could hardly wait to get home, and in any case would have to quickly or else to find a toilet and miss her chance for such fun.  A few minutes later the lecture finally came to an end, and Jenny grabbed her notes, shoved them into her shoulder bag and almost ran out of the lecture theatre.  She considered using the toilet in the institute hall as she left, but that wasn’t what she wanted to do, and in any case could make it home - it was only twenty minutes walk.  Jenny walked briskly along the street, all the time thinking about the fun she would soon be having. She was really getting quite wet now, and loved the way that her jeans and panties slipped past her sex with every step she took.  Another sharp pain in her side stopped brought her mind back to the present.  Jenny actually had to stop herself walking and support herself against someone’s garden fence.

For the first time Jenny was beginning to regret holding on so long. She’d done this lots of times before, but had always made it home in time to have her fun in private.  Now she was away from the centre of town, surrounded by large houses, no shops and certainly no public toilets. There were still lots of people walking in the streets and Jenny really didn’t want to mess herself in public - what if someone she knew saw her? The cramp passed, and Jenny stood up and began to walk again, this time slower than before as she concentrated on keeping control.  She had to make it home.

Five minutes later Jenny had to stop again.  The pain this time was terrible.  She could hardly hold out any longer.  Jenny sat down on a nearby wall and hoped the cramp would pass soon, but the pain continued. She could feel a huge firm mass of poop inside herself, and was having no trouble actually holding it there, but the pain was awful.  What could she do?  She was now only a few streets away from home, but she had to go now. There was nothing for it but to poop herself a little, not so much that someone might notice but just enough to relieve the pain and the pressure.

People were still walking past her regularly, and she was in full view where she sat.  There was no way she could do that here.  Jenny scanned the road looking for some cover.  The best she saw was the garden next door to the house whose garden wall she was sitting on now.  There was a tall wall between that garden and the wall, and a large bushy tree shielded a small gap on the garden side of the wall from being over-looked by the houses themselves.  Jenny’s heart thumping she rushed into this gap and taking a quick look around, put down her bag and stood with her legs apart.

The moment she relaxed her muscles Jenny felt her poop begin to move down, but it didn’t yet come out.  She spread her legs still slightly further and steadied herself against the wall in front of her.  Pushing hard now Jenny felt the enormous poo pushing her bottom open as it moved slowly but steadily out, and touched her panties.  She was wearing good clean panties today - still white cotton, but she had planned to change to an older pair before she pooped herself.

Jenny had never shit her pants anywhere not completely private before as she had always been terrified of getting caught.  Her heart was pounding now as she continued to push and her panties and jeans stretched out further away from her bottom.  Still, it felt so good and Jenny moved her right hand down from the wall and began to rub herself through her jeans, still slowly pooping more and more into her panties.  She knew she had to stop and get home.  She knew she would surely be found out if she did it all in her pants here.  The bulge and the smell would be far to much to hide especially in her stretch jeans which showed every detail of her perfect behind - and of anything which shouldn’t be there in a grown-up girl’s pants.

Jenny couldn’t help herself though, it felt so good she kept on pooping and pooping and pooping, filling her panties so much that some poop squeezed out from the back of the leg openings.  The stretch jeans kept it all right up close to her bottom though, and she loved the feeling of having such a big heavy load of poop pushed so tightly up against her, forcing her cheeks apart.  Just as she finally finished she came hard into her already soaking panties, and stood for fully two minutes panting, her heart refusing to stop pounding.  She realised the situation she was now in. She was at least 500 metres from home and had a huge load of poop in her panties.  Ordinarily Jenny would have panicked, but instead she just had a very naughty thought.  What if she didn’t try to dump some of the poop out of her pants here, but instead walked home with her panties full? Jenny had always been scared of getting caught and of anyone knowing she liked to mess herself, but was suddenly feeling so turned on that the thought of doing something so naughty gave her the courage that she needed.

Jenny stood up straight and caught her breath for a moment.  She reached back behind herself and felt the very hot and lumpy seat of her jeans. Anyone walking behind her would surely be able to tell what she had done.The bulge in her jeans was at least the size of two tennis balls, though Jenny felt for all the world like it was two footballs.  Her jeans left nothing to the imagination, and she worried that the softer poo that had escaped from the leg bands of her panties might be staining through, but there was no way to check now.

Picking up her bag she took a couple of steps forward.  Well, you could call them steps, but it was more of a waddle really.  Her panties were so full that no matter how normally she tried to walk she just looked like a baby girl who had completely shit her pants.  Jenny stopped and her mind raced again - was it really a good idea to walk home like this?  What if she met someone she knew The more she thought about it though the more naughty she felt and she knew that she couldn’t resist.  The thought of other people seeing her shameful secret really turned her on.  Jenny set off again.

Shortly later Jenny arrived home.  All through the walk home people had been staring at her bottom and her full panties.  The poop was really firm and hadn’t spread out any more while she walked, so Jenny had been forced to continue her baby girl walk all the way back.  Each time she passed someone in the street she was sure that they were going to say something or point at her, so sure that her heart pounded, but each time they just passed by looking and without a word.

Back at home Jenny dumped her bag in the hall and ran as quickly as she could, which wasn’t very quickly, up to the bathroom.  Turning round, she looked at her bottom in the mirror.  The bulge in her jeans was huge, and there were two brown streaks for a couple of inches down the inside backs of her legs.  She couldn’t believe she’d been out in public like that.  All those people seeing what a naughty little girl she’d been.

Jenny climbed into the bathtub, all the time repeating to herself out loud what a naughty girl she was, and how big girls like her should know better than to poop their knickers, and how all those strangers in the street had seen what a naughty dirty girl she was.  She kept repeating all of this to herself as she spread her legs and turned to face the wall, looking over her shoulder at the mirror showing her shamefully poopy jeans. Without a second though she wet herself.  Hot liquid pooled in the crotch of her panties and ran down the legs of her jeans, turning them dark immediately.  This sent Jenny wild - now she’d been naughty again and wet herself deliberately.  She couldn’t hold on any longer and quickly undid her jeans and pulled them half way down her thighs, before beginning to rub herself furiously though her soaking wet cotton panties.  Jenny reached back behind herself with her other hand and began to gently and rhythmically spank her bottom right on top of the bulge in the back of her panties.  She kept repeating, between gasping and panting, what a naughty little girl she’d been for completely messing herself and pooping and wetting her panties.  Within a minute she had two fantastic orgasms, the second forcing her to sink to her knees and stop.  Beyond caring now, Jenny lay back completely in the tub, sitting on her bottom, and causing poo to gush out of the legs and back waistband of her panties.

She continued slowly rubbing herself, but was now completely spent. Half dozing, Jenny just lay still for a while getting her breath back and thinking about everything she’d done.  She knew that she couldn’t wait until she needed to poo again, and she knew that she would be doing it in her pants again.

"Wait, you want me to do what?"

Your hands were trembling, your breath catching in your lungs. What an idiot. What an absolute idiot you'd been! Here you were, on this nice weekend getaway with this amazing girl you'd only met two months before. Everything was going along swimmingly. You'd just had a great meal at a restaurant a few blocks away. You'd laughed your way back to the hotel, and you'd cuddled, and things had begun to get steamy…

And then you'd done it. "Hey, are you, like, into any kinds of… you know… kinky stuff?"

Oh, she'd giggled at that. "What, like getting tied up and shit?" She'd tossed her blonde hair and shrugged. "I mean, I guess? Wait… what about you? Are you saying you wanna get kinky tonight, babe?"

God, if she'd only known how apropos that last word was. But then you'd blurted it out before you'd thought – before you'd had a chance to chicken out. "I mean… yeah. I'm kinda- I, you know… I dunno, but… I guess I really think it would be hot if… if you wore a diaper."

She stared at you with the most indescribable expression, and you could feel yourself shriveling up, collapsing down into a little ball of shame and fear under her gaze. "I- I- heh, heh- just… just joking, you kno-" you faltered desperately. Chuckle. Ease the tension. Anything, please-

But she cut you off with a laugh. "Wait, really? No, no. Don't kid me, dude. You were actually serious, weren't you?" And under her searching blue eyes… well, what could you do but nod?

Though the next words weren't anything like what you'd expected to hear next.

"Oh, praise be! You know, at first I thought you might be into some really messed-up shit: you know, knives and chains and all." You spluttered, eyes wide as she bounced merrily on the bed. "I mean, sure! You got one handy?"

"Wha- wait, but- but, really?!" You were aghast, feeling desperately the need to pinch yourself to snap out of this fever dream. She couldn't be serious. Diapers were taboo. They were fucked up, weird, deviant, idiotic-

"Bro, relax!" she smiled now, and then she was slipping her hand reassuringly onto your tight-drawn shoulders. "Listen, it's okay! I mean, sure – I dunno that I've ever worn a diaper before-" and here she chuckled wryly. "At least not since I was a kid! But heck, I dunno. I think it sounds kinda cute." You breathed, and realized then that you'd been holding your breath for who knows how many minutes. She… she was really okay with it?

"Really?" You quavered, and she shrugged and nodded, her blue eyes locking with your own. "Dude, relax! Of course! It's not like you're asking me to expose myself, or make out with four other guys, or, I dunno, drink your piss or something. Like, it's just a diaper, right? Big deal. We've all worn one before, and I bet we'll all wear one again before we're dead and gone."

She giggled once more and let one hand slip playfully down to your jean-clad crotch. "Hang on, lemme see if you were really serious. Think about me now, babe. Think about seeing me laying here on the bed without any pants on. I'll be laying here just like a cute baby girl, with a crinkly 'ol diaper on instead of panties. Sounds like you'd like that, huh?"

The straining pressure in your crotch provided all the answer she needed.

"Well, then, buddy – I think you'd better get busy!" she tittered once more. "Come on. I don't suppose you'd happen to have one in your suitcase already, would you?"

Somehow, you did.

And once you'd tremblingly taped your laughing companion into the garment of your dreams, she lolled playfully onto the bed, toying with her long blonde hair and gazing over with merry eyes. "Hey, there! Like what you see, babe?" She wriggled her crinkling rear provocatively and dropped her eyes to your ill-concealed – and increasingly painful – hard-on. "Oh, my! I don't suppose you'd care to give a little baby like me a taste, hmm? I may be pretty big for a baby, but I still really like sucking on things…"

Good god. Maybe you were dreaming. Maybe not. But whatever the case, you mused as you tugged desperately at your jeans and pre-cum stained underwear… whatever the case, you didn't ever want this to end.

Image Credit: DiaperGal.com

Please don't remove my caption or accreditation, okay? Oh, and check out my Patreon here if you want to read more of my short stories!

The Start of It All

I sat on the floor of my Mommy’s room, legs splayed with a coloring book and some crayons on the floor. Mommy was in the bathroom, standing at her sink and inspecting her reflection in the mirror as she was getting ready for her date. 

This was the first time she was going out, leaving me at home under the care of a mutual friend. When we first started dating, Mommy and I would sleep in her big bed together and go out on dates all the time. But since she started putting me in diapers a few months, I had been relegated to the guest room. 

It had started as something she suggested when the stress from my work started to catch up with me at night. I always struggled to keep my bed dry growing up, and by the time my parents were tired of buying their teenage daughter diapers, I only had accidents when I was feeling really fried.

When I started wetting the bed a few months ago, Mommy suggested that I wear diapers to bed. I was completely against the idea, not wanting to return to the place of self-consciousness and embarrassment at having to wear protection to bed. I tried to argue, but Mommy wasn’t having any of it.

“Pleeeeeaase?” I begged, my voice slipping into more of a whine than I wanted while trying to prove my adulthood. 

“Tell you what, girlie. Starting tomorrow, if you wake up in a wet bed more than twice, I’m putting you in diapers.” Mommy stated calmly, rubbing my thigh to soothe me. I felt my cheeks flush. I knew I would likely fail.

By Tuesday, Mommy came home from work with a pack of diapers under her arm. She hadn’t even taken off her coat or put down her things before I was voicing my displeasure.

“Noooo I don’t need those,” I whined as I followed her around the house. She didn’t acknowledge me, and instead went to the guest room and placed the diapers on the bed. I was on her heels and gave her a questioning look once we were in the room.

“I got a plastic sheet for this bed,” Mommy explained, noting the look of confusion on my face. “I don’t want you ruining my nice mattress, and as a matter of fact, I think your behavior these past few weeks has be convinced this will be for the best.”

“I can’t help it! I just sometime have accidents at night when I feel stressed!” I pleaded, not entirely sure what all of “this” entailed. 

“Sweetie, even when you do keep your bed dry, you act like a toddler most the time. I’ve been thinking about this for a while; your recent nighttime troubles just convinced me this is what you need,” she told me. Her voice was sweet and syrupy, bringing more blood to my face as she led me by the shoulder to the bed. 

“I don’t! I’m an adult and I just am having a rough week!” I protested, trying to keep the whine out of my voice. I tried to struggle against Mommy’s hold on my shoulder, but she tightened her grip when she felt my resistance. 

“Sweetheart, when we are sitting down to dinner and trying to find something on to watch, if I let you pick, where do you always look?” she asked, using both hands to sit me down on the bed.

“Uhm, I don’t know,” I said, not wanting to answer. “You go to Disney+. And, if I’m picking and choose something more grown-up, you get so fussy and complain about how boring it is,” she said as she pushed me back into a lying position on the bed. “If we are having a big dinner that needs cutting up, do you cut it up yourself or ask me to help you?”

I didn’t answer her, choosing to turn my head to the wall and stare it. My thoughts were racing around in my head. I knew that Mommy liked it when I played a little bratty, and it sounds like maybe I played too far into that. I wasn’t a baby though!  

As I turned my head and opened my mouth to say such, a pacifier was slipped past my lips. Without thinking, my mouth started to work the nipple and I felt my heart rate slow a little. 

“See, sweetie? This is for the best,” she said as she moved to undo my jeans. “I know it’s not bedtime yet, though yours will be much earlier than it used to. I think we should start you in diapers at home all the time. I’ve seen your undies when I do our laundry, and you have little pee-pee accidents in them all the time, don’t you?” she asked, tickling my tummy. 

“I don’t wet my pants! Those are just tiny little spots,” I pouted behind my pacifier.

“Anyone who ruins their undies like you do deserves to be in diapers,” she said with a certain finality that I knew I’d have to revisit this in a few days if I wanted to change her mind. Her hands were poised at the top of my jeans, getting ready to unbutton them and take them off. I missed when she opened the package, but a thick, folded diaper lay next to me on the bed, some wipes and powder next to it.

“Please don’t,” I whined through my pacifier, but she ignored me as she pulled my pants down and started getting me into my first diaper in years.

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More to come on this! I have lots of ideas for where I want it to go! [18+ only; minors dni]

“Relax. Have a seat if you like. Of course, I have some rules. Little boys must wear diapers if they are going to be sitting on the furniture. These are expensive pieces, and I just can’t risk you having a wet or messy accident on them. Don’t you worry, sweetheart. Auntie will put you in diapers and it will be our little secret. If you don’t have to go, then you don’t have to go, and there’s nothing to worry about. If you do have an accident, well, that’s what diapers are for. And if you have to go pee pee or poo poo and decide you’d rather just let go and let your diaper do all the work, well, like I said, it’ll be our little secret. So what are we waiting for? Let’s get you in a diaper ASAP.”

How many stories have you completed?

I had to go back and count. "Completed" being the operative word. I am terrible at finishing or adding chapters to longer stories. I tend to either lose steam or not know where to take the story. But I compiled almost everything I've written that's over 3k words. I tried to post links to the ones that have previews/full-releases on free sites. All of them can be found on Patreon:

The Boss' Baby

Besties - Part 1 , Part 2

Big Daddy

Date Night

Diaper Cuck - Excerpt 1 , Excerpt 2

DREAMS Daycare

Egg Hunt

Feels Like The First Time

Here Comes the Airpwane

Maw

Meet The Parents - Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

Monitored

Practice Makes Perfect

Princess Pampers

Prudish

Reflections

Rent-A-Bull

Road Trip

Season's Greetings

Severance

Stuffed

Tales From a Mommy Blog

The Baby Shower

The Box

The Check-Up

The Satin Sock

The Wet Nurse

Tinder Love and Care

Under His Thumb

Weekend Services

You Should Smile More

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Ongoing/Abandoned Projects

ABCDegree

Go Ask Alex

Hoetel Bimbo

Joy Ride

New World Order

Sissy School - Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8

Sorority Boys - Chapter 1, Chapter 2

The Hunt

The White Rabbit

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This obviously doesn't include the mini-stories and captions I've written, but I'm not about to go back and count all of those, lol.

I'm going to pin this post if that's okay. I've been meaning to catalogue this for a long time, so thanks for this question to finally make me get off my lazy ass and do it. I will try to update as more gets released.

If you'd like to find my on other sites, here's All My Links

WARNING: DIAPER MESSING/PEEING, DIARRHEA, ALCHOL MENTIONED

Aaron woke to a wet feeling around his bottom for the second time that morning. The first time he had woken up, he had been too hungover to do anything about the fact that he was urinating. Going out for drinks the night before had been a bad idea for so many reasons, but mostly because his bladder simply could not handle that much alcohol.

Now, he groggily sat up in bed and pulled the wet sheets off himself. He didn’t have the energy to get mad at himself or the brand of diapers he was wearing for the huge wet stain that spread to the far reaches of his bed. He reached down to feel the waterlogged diaper that sat between his legs. It was soaked yellow and leaked a little when Aaron touched it. It was as if he had started peeing as soon as he fell asleep and hadn’t stopped until he had just woken up. And oh gosh, it smelled awful. He was lucky for the mattress cover, or he would have had to throw the whole thing away. Today was definitely laundry day.

Aaron removed his wet diaper and shirt and left them both on the bed. He walked naked to grab a trash bag, his hamper, and a new diaper. He knew he should shower first, but he wanted to rid the smell from the room asap, and he was unsure how long cleanup would take or if he was fully empty. Sure enough, as he dumped everything into the washing machine, he felt a trickle in his diaper. It wasn't nearly as much as before, but if he hadn't been wearing a diaper, he would have had to mop as well.

With everything in the wash, Aaron stretched and yawned as he made his way towards the shower. His diaper was wet again, so he smelled even more like urine than before. He barely got the bathroom door open when his alarm went off. He picked up his phone to silence it, then swore when he realized what it was for. It had been going off for 30 minutes to remind him that he had a Zoom class at 10. It was now 9:55. He rushed to his computer to log in before remembering that he was completely shirtless. He slipped into the first T-shirt he grabbed just as the class started.

This professor was, unfortunately, strict about having the camera on. She didn't care about being muted, but she wanted to make sure everyone was at the very least paying attention. The rule was that if you had to turn your camera off, it was only twice and for five minutes unless you had a good excuse. Aaron would have used one of his times to change when he realized the shirt he'd grabbed was an ABDL T-shirt with cute animals flying planes, but he didn't want to draw attention to it. Thank goodness it wasn't a more obvious one, but he made sure not to stand because this particular shirt doubled as a onesie. Halfway through the class, he felt something pressing against his bottom. He was glad he was muted because the gas that shot out of him just then was like a firecracker. He hadn't even eaten today, but the results of last night's disaster were finally making their way out of his colon. Aaron did his best not to make a face as he quickly switched off his camera. It was coming out, and he barely had time to stand up before something painfully snaked out of him. It stung as his bottom opened up to another solid mass of poop, warming the back of his diaper with another filthy release.

"Mr. Millards, I'm timing you," the professor said, referring to Aaron. But he could barely hear her over the sound of his diaper filling. It took three minutes before he felt like he was okay enough to stop, though he could tell he wasn't empty. It wasn't lost on him that he didn't have enough time to change, and he grimaced as he looked back at the bulging brown and yellow padding wrapped around his waist. He held his breath, carefully lowered his bottom into his seat, and cringed as he felt the hot oatmeal texture spread around his bottom. The smell was immediate and rancid. He wondered what the hell he ate last night and swore to avoid it the next time he was blackout drunk. He wiped away his sweat, prayed his diaper wouldn't leak during class, and returned to the Zoom session.

Aaron felt each minute of the rest of class drag on, each second making his stomach twitch. When it finally ended, he'd never turned his camera off so fast. His next class wasn't for another three hours, so he rushed to grab a new pair of clothes, deodorant, cologne, and opened up his ottoman to grab a fresh diap-

His face fell.

Aaron kept all of his diapers boxed up in an ottoman at the foot of his bed. He'd grabbed the last diaper from one of the boxes this morning, thinking the others were full. They were not.

He didn't know what to do. Aaron ordered all of his diapers online. Even with same-day shipping, they weren't getting here until tomorrow. His next class was in person; he didn't have time for that! His best bet was to head to the nearest store to buy some generic pull-ups, but there was still the problem of his full diaper. He'd worn diapers for so long now that going out in underwear wasn't an option. He could try to use the potty before he left, but with his stomach in turmoil, there was no telling if he'd still have an accident. His heart sank when he realized that not only was he going to have to go out in a filthy diaper, but he also needed to pee again.

The only outfit Aaron owned that was loose enough to hide his diaper bulge was a pair of loose joggers and an oversized T-shirt. They didn't really match, but more importantly, they were light-colored. There was no hiding it if he leaked. He checked himself in the mirror, hyper-focusing on his bottom. You really couldn't tell unless you were looking really hard...or if you smelled him. He tried his best to cover up the smell with cologne, but that almost seemed to make it worse. He was just going to have to not stand close to anyone.

He opted to walk to the store for obvious reasons. He couldn't focus on driving and not squishing his diaper. The walk to the store wasn't far, but it sure felt like it with every crinkling, squishy step he took. He hoped the sound of cars driving past would cover up the sound, and the nearby dumpsters could take the blame for any lingering smells. He couldn't stop thinking about how much his poop had spread around in his diaper. It was smushed into every crevice and felt like cold mud on his bottom. He knew his shirt was long enough to cover his bottom, but he felt like if his pants fell even a centimeter someone would catch sight of his toasted marshmallow bottom.

Aaron breathed a sigh of relief when he finally reached the store. Despite his anxiety,  no one had seemed to notice his predicament. Or if they did, no one had pointed it out. His mind began to calm as he walked the store aisles, and by the time he grabbed the pull-ups, he felt okay enough to change in the store bathroom, as long as it was empty. Maybe they had a family bathroom he could use? If that was the case, he figured he should grab some wipes. He blushed, thinking about how big of a mess he had made and how he couldn't wait to get clean.

As he walked out of the diaper aisle with his supplies, he felt his stomach drop. Instinctively, his hand reached back to cover his bottom, and a splortch echoed off the linoleum walls. He felt eyes on him, but he was too focused on holding back a flood, his body trembling as he strained. He had just let out a handful of mushy diarrhea into his diaper, and he could tell there was more to come. He stayed there until he felt safe enough to move, then carefully made his way to the checkout aisle. His tummy rumbled angrily and his bottom hurt from holding it in, but there was no way he could go right now. He approached the self-checkout and whined anxiously when he saw the line. It wasn't that long, but his stomach thought otherwise. People could hear it groan audibly, and he tried his best not to make eye contact with any of them. By the time it was his turn, he could feel the whole store staring at him, the anxiety making his situation worse. He tried to focus on scanning; he only had two items. He just had to scan them, pay, and then he could run to the bathroom and use his diaper in peace—

PHBLARTCH

It was so loud it caught Aaron off guard, and he was pushing out another load before he knew what was happening. He let out an involuntary grunt of pain and effort as muck poured from his bottom and joined his previous mess. His knees shook as he pooped, and he gripped the register to balance himself. His body took that as a signal to keep going, and his bottom let out another wave of diarrhea. Of course, it was too much for his diaper to handle, and he felt the explosion before he heard it. Liquid brown spilled out of the leg holes  of his diaper and ran down his legs, staining his light-colored pants. When he pooped again, everyone saw it bubble out of his diaper and travel down the sullied parts of the fabric. Aaron tried not to think of all the eyes on him as he painfully soiled his diaper for the second time that day. He felt his phone buzz in his pocket, reminding him that he had a class in a bit.

He definitely wasn't going to make it.

A Fair Trade

“I want to go to the bookstore,” Brynn said. Well, she didn’t say it as much as she whined it–she had a tendency to enunciate all of her requests as if she was a spoiled toddler. But, seeing as how this usually worked in her getting her way, it made sense why this trait stuck after toddlerhood.

“Why?” sighed Lia. “You’re going to wander around there for two hours, read the back of every book you pick up, and then leave without buying anything.” Lia wasn’t this blunt with most of her friends, but she had learned that this was really the only way to deal with Brynn. And even then, it didn’t always work.

“I know,” Brynn whined. “But Fi wants to go to the shore next weekend, so I really should have something to read on the beach. Come on. I’ll be quick.”

A louder-than-expected laugh burst from Lia’s mouth like a bark, causing her to blush a little. “S-sorry, but… We both know that’s not going to happen.”

“C’mon,” Brynn said. “What else did you have to do today?”

Lia glanced further down the street–the plant store, the record shop, and a used clothing store were all within view, and they all sounded better than watching Brynn shrug at thousands of books she knew nothing about. Still, she was a good friend. And she supposed, albeit begrudgingly, that it was more important she stick around for Brynn during this trying time.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Lia finally said. “Let’s look at some books.”

For the first few minutes in the store, Lia tried to hover in Brynn’s vicinity, doing her best to sound engaged when her friend read from the back cover of a book aloud to get Lia’ s opinion on it.

“...and that’s when everything goes wrong. Suddenly, Cynthia finds that her perfect life might not be so perfect after all–and her boyfriend may not be the man she thought he was,” Brynn read. “Does that sound good?”

“That sounds like every single book and movie ever made,” Lia sighed. 

“Really?” Brynn asked. “I think it sounds kind of good. This one’s a maybe.”

 “Alright,” Lia shrugged, holding back any comments she was tempted to make about Brynn being the most basic woman in the world.

From the corner of her eye, Lia spots a sign denoting the “Art & Design” section. The art bug had been biting again lately, and she was feeling eager to pick up a paint brush again for the first time in a while. Maybe, she thought, flipping through some of the art books might stir up some inspiration.

“Hey,” she said to Brynn, who was picking another book from the shelf to glance over. “I’m going to go check out some of the books over there, alright?”

“Sure,” Brynn said. “I’ll narrow it down to, like, four or five books and you can tell me which one I should buy.”

“Uh, sure. Can’t wait.” Lia briskly walked away from Brynn and into the art section, letting out a little sigh of relief when she could no longer smell her friend’s vaguely peachy body spray. She loved Brynn dearly, but Brynn could also be…a lot.

It was a book about Japanese woodblock prints that caught her eye initially, but while the art featured in the book was undeniably gorgeous, it couldn’t have been further in tone from the swirling psychedelic style that Lia preferred when making her own art. Next, she grabbed the book on Jean-Michel Basquiat. Again, her own painting style had little semblance to Basquiat’s (though, whose did?), but she often found his use of color and small details worked as a nice springboard for ideas she’d try to implement in her own work.

“Did you happen to see the Basquiat exhibit in town a few months ago?” a voice somewhere off to her side asked. Lia turned to see a woman standing near her, pulling books from the other side of the same shelf that she was currently looking at. 

“I, uh, didn’t know there was one,” Lia said.

“It wasn’t very big,” the woman shrugged, pushing her blonde hair back behind her ears. She had a brownish-red sundress on that seemed to hug her slender body in all the right ways. God, she was tall. The woman continued: “They just had a handful of pieces on display at the art museum downtown. I’ve seen them before, but it was nice that I didn’t have to travel as far to see them this time.”

“I wish I knew,” Lia sighed. “I suppose it’s over now?”

“‘Fraid so,” the woman shrugged. “But you never know, they might do something like that again.”

“One can hope,” Lia said, craning her neck a little to see if Brynn was still scanning through books. It looked like she was.

“Are you just a fan of the arts?” the woman asked. “Or are you an artist yourself?”

“Both,” Lia smiled. This stranger was fucking beautiful. The kind that she just wasn’t used to seeing in person. The woman looked like a model. Or an actress. And she definitely wasn’t used to people who looked like this talking to her. Her heart pounded in her chest as she carefully considered how she should act. Was it better to seem cool, collected, and unphased by this goddess in her midst? Or did people who looked like this enjoy it more when they were more obviously worshiped?

Lia opted to start with cool and collected–thinking this was the better choice if they were talking about art.

“Is that so?” the woman asked. “What sorts of mediums do you work in?”

“Painting,” Lia said, feeling her cheeks warm a little. “Acrylics, mostly. I’ve always been kind of abstract, but I’m thinking that I kind of want to try my hand at something more–I dunno–impressionist?” She surprised herself at how she offered this much to the stranger. She never liked talking about her art. The last thing she wanted was to sound full of herself–she didn’t think she was talented enough for that.

“I wish that I had that sort of talent,” the woman smiled, showing her perfect teeth. “I think that’s why I enjoy art as much as I do. I can’t make it, so I enjoy using the work of others as gateways into worlds that I couldn’t imagine myself.”

“I like that too,” Lia blushed.

“I’m Agnes, by the way,” the woman said, extending her hand towards Lia. Lia shook it automatically, noting the softness of her skin.

“Lia,” she replied. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“You don’t happen to have any pictures of your art, do you?” Agnes asked.

Lia briefly bit her bottom lip. “Eh, well, I do have an Instagram where I share my work with some friends but…”

“I’d love to see them, if you’d be willing to share.”

Were this anyone else, at any other time, she’d probably try to find excuses as to why she couldn’t share her art. She’d probably fumble at her phone for a few moments before commenting on how her damn phone doesn’t have a good enough connection for her to access her account. But for Agnes–with her big eyes, perfect smile, and voluptuous tits that were gift wrapped in her tight dress–she thought she could probably be convinced to do just about anything. 

“S-sure,” she said. “Let me just, uh, pull it up here.” Lia tapped at her phone and brought up the app, quickly scanning through her last few posts to make sure there was nothing incredibly embarrassing. She quickly deleted one of the photos–a piece she hadn’t ever been particularly happy with. The rest seemed good enough for now. Had she advance knowledge of this interaction, she probably would’ve culled her feed further. “Here you go.”

“Did you go to art school?” Agnes asked as she slowly scrolled through the photos. 

“N-no. Self taught, actually.” 

“That makes sense.”

“Oh, uhm…” Lia wasn’t sure if she should be offended by that or not.

“I mean that in a good way,” Agnes laughed, as if realizing how confusing that might have been. “Your style doesn’t seem bound by rules. There’s something very liberating about it. There’s something almost…” But Agnes doesn’t finish that thought, instead laughing a little to herself as she smiles. “I really like it.”

“Thank you,” Lia said. If she didn’t think it’d make her sound the opposite of cool and collected, she’d gush about how that was one of the nicest things that anyone has ever said about her work.”

“You wouldn’t mind if I follow your art, would you?” she asked.

“Not at all.”

“And…” Agnes tapped her chin for a moment as she passed the phone back to Lia. “Well, I know we just met and this all seems rather sudden and all–but I’m already thinking about how I’d like to own a piece of your art.”

“Really? I mean, uhm, I suppose any of my pieces are for sale if you see any that you really like.”

“What if I commissioned a piece?” she asked. “A new piece. Something that was only ever mine?”

Lia nervously swallowed. It was sometimes hard enough to sit down and make art that she was happy with herself–hence the little break she had taken from art in recent weeks. But she couldn’t even imagine the added pressure of creating art for someone else. Someone who was paying her. Someone who looked like Agnes.

But, again, Agnes was the kind of person that Lia didn’t think she could say no to. 

“Sure. Of course. Did you have anything in mind, or…”

“Oh, if I had ideas I’d be painting them myself,” Agnes smirked. “But if you’re not doing anything else right now, maybe you’d let me buy you a cup of coffee and we could chat about it a little?”

These things never, ever, happen to me, Lia thought. But, again, she glanced in the direction of Brynn, who was amassing a small stack of books in her arms as she continued to make her way through the shelves. 

“That sounds really nice,” she said to Agnes. “But I’m here with my friend, and…”

“Ah, of course,” Agness nodded. “I’ll tell you what–I’m going to friend you on Insta. And when I do, I want you to reach out to me there and tell me what your availability is like so we can meet again, okay? I’m very serious about wanting to commission some art from you.”

Lia’s face felt red and hot, and she had no doubt it was obvious to Agnes. Still, she managed to keep her tone good and steady as she replied: “That sounds great. It was really nice meeting you, Agnes.”

“Likewise,” Agnes said.

Lia briskly walked back towards Brynn, feeling like she was in a little bit of a daze. Had that just happened? Had one of the most beautiful women she’d ever seen approached her at random and asked for some of her art? 

“Oh cool,” Brynn said, “you found a book for yourself?”

Lia realized she was still tightly clutching the Basquiat art book in her hands. She remembered setting it down when she was showing Agnes her phone, but she had no recollection of picking it up again. Had she been that distracted by run-in with Agnes?

“Oh, uh, yeah. How about you? Find anything good?”

“Ugh,” Brynn groaned. “So many books. You’re going to have to help me whittle these choices down, okay?”

“Sure,” Lia said, though she already knew she’d be far too distracted to be of any help.

***

Agnes Van Lars followed her account about two hours later. Lia noticed right away–the notification came up on her phone while she was cutting into her lunch as Brynn sat across from her. She was sure her cheeks had turned bright pink again, and she quickly stowed her phone in her purse in an effort to not distract herself anymore than she already had been.

It’d be a few hours later, when she was in her apartment’s bedroom again, that she opened the app and clicked on Agnes Van Lars’ profile.

“Oh shit.”

As it turned out, Agnes was a model–though not the sort that Lia was imagining. Lia was picturing swimsuits and fur coats. Instead, Agness was wearing skin-tight leather ensembles while holding paddles and riding crops. Her bare feet rested on a man’s very happy face in one photo, and in another she was sliding a rubber glove over her hand while a different nude man was bent over a table. 

Kink–BDSM in particular–were always a curiosity to Lia, though she felt like it was a space she was grossly uneducated on. She liked the photos on Agnes’ feed–the juxtaposition of power with good looking (and well hung) men making themselves vulnerable to her power and control. 

None of the photos were too explicit–there was an artsy tastefulness about them, she thought. They often hinted at darker scenes and situations, but without actually showing them. Agnes had been wrong when she said she wasn’t an artist–this was art. She could look at any of these photos and find herself getting sucked into a world of shameful depravity. She could hear the crack of a whip as it lashed against a bare bottom. She could smell the sweat. She could almost taste salty skin on her tongue.

The minutes melted away as she continued to scroll down Agnes’ feed. Every picture was an entirely new trip for her. Then, hundreds of posts into the past, she saw an image that made her audibly gasp. 

Whereas most of the photos–with a few exceptions–had featured Agnes exercising power over men, this one featured a young woman on her hands and knees and looking into the camera as Agnes stood tall in the background with her hands on her hips. The young woman’s makeup was running down her face. Her cheeks were bright pink and her hair was a mess. Sticking out of her mouth was a pacifier–like the things a parent would stick in the mouth of an infant. And the girl didn’t seem to be wearing much, though she did seem to be wearing some sort of undergarment that was far too thick and big to be panties.

A diaper, she thought. That girl is wearing a diaper and sucking on a pacifier.

The caption for the photo read as follows: “Poor little StephyLoo. After a particularly long session with Mommy, she couldn’t help but fill her diapers. See that sag between her legs? It’s even heavier than it looks.”

“What the fuck,” Lia said aloud. No, she wasn’t disgusted. She was almost angry. Angry that she had no idea that this was a thing that people–adults–did with each other. Why did nobody tell me about this?

But maybe she had known. Maybe it was one of those weird things that felt like a punchline to a joke whenever someone talked about it. “Yeah, well, at least you’re not one of those freaks who dresses up like a baby.”

She stared at the photo longer, taking it in and trying to imagine what that scene must’ve been like in person. What had happened to make this girl look like this? That look of pathetic vulnerability, coupled with shameful contentment. And when Agnes said that ‘StephyLoo’ had filled her diaper…what did she mean by that? Had the girl been made to piss herself? Had she…done even more than that in her diaper? That’s what a diaper–an adult diaper at that–was made for, wasn’t it?

Lia let out a little moan, not realizing that her own hand had slid between her thighs as she stared at the photo. She rubbed at her pussy through her pants, not sure how committed she was to completely getting off right now. But then she thought about herself and Agnes, back at the bookstore, and how she might’ve reacted if that conversation had gone a little differently.

“I want to put you in a diaper,” Agnes might’ve said. “I think you’d look just perfect in one.”

“R-really?” Lia would respond. “You think I’d be a good baby?”

“Oh yes,” Agnes would smile. “I think you’d be the best baby.”

“Okay, fuck it,” Lia said aloud, casting her phone aside as she pulled down her pants and panties. She was going to cum right now, and she was going to do it while imagining pissing into a diaper at Agnes’s command.

With her eyes closed, she was back at the bookstore with Agnes again. Somewhere on the other side of the store, Brynn was there too. This would be part of the fantasy, Lia thought–the idea that whatever happened, she could potentially be exposed to Brynn. She’d have to tread lightly.

Now, instead of just talking about wearing diapers in the future, Lia was actually wearing one. Fantastical-Agnes would know this too. 

“How is your diaper holding up?” she’d ask Lia.

“Shh,” Lia would nervously say. “Not so loud…I can’t let my friend know about these.”

Lia wasn’t sure what it was like to wear a diaper. She imagined the thick padding felt bulky between her thighs, and so she pulled her comforter from under her and tucked a wad of it between her legs until it was so thick that she couldn’t close them. Maybe it’s something like this?

Back in her fantasy, Agnes was grinning while looking down at her–it was very easy for her to do that when she was so much taller than Lia. 

“I need to check your diaper,” she said to Lia.

“B-but…here?” Lia asked.

The very thought of this caused her to bite her bottom lip and slip her fingers into her wet pussy. Adults–most of them, at least–weren’t supposed to be wearing diapers. They weren’t supposed to be getting them checked by other people–especially not while in public.

“You don’t want to get a rash, do you? Come here. Let me see.”

Lia wasn’t even sure what a diaper check looked like for an actual infant, let alone an adult. She can only make it up as she goes. She imagines Agnes’ hand sliding between Lia’s thighs, feeling the bulky padding of the diaper through her pants. A wet diaper, she thought, would feel different than a dry one. StephyLoo’s diaper was ‘filled,’ and hung from her hips like a sack. Maybe it was something like that. Maybe Agnes was groping Lia’s crotch in the middle of the book store in an effort to see how heavy it was.

“Young lady,” Agnes would say in a stern, motherly, tone. “Why didn’t you tell me that your diaper was this dirty?”

“I…I…” Lia stammered. Her cheeks in her fantasy were as bright pink as they were in real life.

“We’re going to have to do something about this right now,” Agness would say. “Come on. We’re going to find a public restroom, and I’m going to have to change you there.”

“But,” Lia would plead, “what if there are other people in there? They’ll see!”

“There’s nothing I can do about that now,” Agnes shrugged, grabbing Lia’s wrist. “I’m changing your diaper regardless.”

Fuck, that was good stuff. One hand pushed the wadded ball of her comforter tighter against her pussy, while she continued to finger herself with the other. 

But this scene was missing something. She considered it for a moment or two, trying to imagine what would make this even hotter. She thought of the photo of StephyLoo (whoever that was) again, wondering if there were any other details she needed to import into her fantasy. The pacifier? Maybe. It was certainly a step in the right direction. 

It suddenly dawned on her. It wasn’t what was in the photo–it was the photo itself. Someone else had to take that picture. Whatever humiliating events had transpired in that room with Agnes Van Lars, someone else had been there to witness it and capture it with a camera. 

That was what she needed in her fantasy–to be witnessed in such a state.

“I–I don’t need to be changed right now,” Lia would protest. She knew she was wrong about this, but she wanted to see Agnes react to this defiance.

“Silly girl, you don’t know anything,” Agnes would sigh. With a firm tug on either side of the waistband of Lia’s pants, Agness would pull them down to her knees–right there in the middle of the bookstore. Her diaper was completely on display. “Look at yourself, Lia. Your diaper is completely soaked! And you’re going to try and tell me that you don’t need to be changed right now?”

The other patrons of the bookstore were tittering and snickering. Whispering to each other. People were pointing. Lia’s heart pounded faster, and her fingers went into overdrive as they caressed her wet skin.

And then Brynn would approach. Brynn, of all people–who was practically a giant whiny toddler herself–she’d be the one to see Lia in a dirty diaper. “Oh my god!” she’d shout. “LIa…did you pee yourself like a baby?”

“Yes, she did,” Agnes would say. “But…”

Lia would have to wait until another time to hear what Agnes would say, as it was at that moment that she came. It was an epic climax–the strongest she had had in recent memory. She felt herself squirting into the comforter–no doubt leaving an embarrassingly large wet spot that she hoped would dry sooner than later.

It would take a few minutes for her to recover. And when she finally sat up, the very first thing she did was send a message to Agnes Van Lars.

***

When Lia went to a bar, it was always a very particular kind of bar. She wasn’t really sure how to describe them. ‘Nice?’ They were either very clean, or made to look artificially dive-y while still actually being quite clean. The kind of place with a long list of craft beers on tap and a bearded guy behind the bar wearing a t-shirt with either David Bowie or Debbie Harry’s face on it.

This was different. This wasn’t a ‘nice’ bar.

Everything here felt kind of aggressive. The electronic music. The sneering face of the pale-looking bartender. The complete lack of a cocktail menu to offer easy choices. Even the lighting seemed both too dark and too harsh. It wasn’t her kind of place, which was what made it kind of exciting.

“Thank you for meeting me here,” Agnes said as they both took a seat in one of the booths. “I know it's a little loud here, but I think these are some of the best bartenders in the city.”

Lia looked over to the bar again, where two or three ghostly barkeeps were in the process of either shaking or stirring drinks for other patrons. She could sit and watch this place all day, trying to imagine the types of conversations people had here.

“No problem at all,” she said.

“Have you been here before?”

Lia laughed. “N-no. Never.”

“Where do you like to go?” Agnes asked.

“Uh… Boot & Barrel? Main Street Brewing?”

Agnes shrugged. “Never heard of them.”

Once more, Lia took some delight in how different their worlds were. If it wasn’t for their chance run-in at the bookstore, Lia wondered if there would’ve ever been any overlap in their lives. It was a strong argument for fate. 

“So, uhm, you were interested in commissioning some art?” Lia asked.

“Indeed,” Agnes nodded. “You know, after we parted ways the other day, I went through your entire profile to look at all of your work.”

Lia blushed. Once or twice, she had considered further pruning her feed and culling the weaker pieces, but ultimately decided that was a slippery slope to go down. By the time she was done, she might’ve only been left with one or two photos on her feed. “What did you think?”

“I’m even more excited to work with you than I was before,” Agnes said. “There’s this quality about your work that I can’t quite put my finger on, but I feel like it’s always there. This sort of…energy. It’s very unique. Very special.”

“Wow,” Lia said. “Thank you so much.” Nobody has ever spoken about her art like this, so far as she knew.

“Well deserved, I assure you,” Agnes said. 

“I, uhm, took a look at your profile too,” Lia said. She wasn’t sure if she was actually going to admit this or not, but she needed to change the subject from herself, and this was the first thing she could think of.

“Is that so?” Agnes asked, smiling. “And what did you think of that?”

“It was a little surprising,” Lia said sheepishly.

“How so?”

“It’s just…you know…” She paused and thought about how she actually wanted to respond to that. “It was different. I don’t know much about, you know, that kind of stuff. So it was very eye-opening.”

“You didn’t find it distasteful, I hope.”

“Not at all,” Lia said. “Quite the opposite, really. I thought it was all pretty fascinating.”

Agnes smiled. “I’m delighted to hear that, Lira. Really. I was nervous that you’d see my content and judge me pretty harshly.”

“No,” Lia said. “I liked it.”

They ordered some drinks and the injection of alcohol helped to steer more natural conversation. While neither seemed to have much in common with the other, on the surface, they quickly found that they had more subtle similarities. Just like Lia, Agnes confessed to having insecurities about her content. And, just like Agnes, Lia thought the act of creating was often more important than the finished product. They were getting along much better than Lia anticipated.

“Now then,” Agnes said. “I want you to make me some art. What do we have to do to make that happen?”

“This is a good start,” Lia smiled. “Maybe just tell me more about what you want and when you want it?”

“What about compensation?” Agnes asked.

“Oh, uhm… I mean, we don’t really have to make this, like, a transaction or anything.”

“Stop that,” Agnes smiled. “I’m going to compensate you for your time. I’d just need to know how much.”

The closest that Lia had ever come to assigning value to her art was when she had donated a piece to her mother’s nonprofit for a fundraiser–and even then, it wasn’t her who benefited from the sale. She didn’t make art for the money. She had a job that covered her expenses. The art was just about passion. 

But she had an idea.

“So,” Lia said, taking one more sip of her cocktail for good measure, “I just wouldn’t feel right accepting money for my art. But…maybe we could, uhm, barter?”

Agnes’ eyes widened as she laughed. “Interesting. What did you have in mind?”

“Well… I could paint something for you. And then, maybe, you could take some photos with me? Like…the kind on your profile?”

Agnes nodded approvingly. “I like this idea, Lia. What kind of photos were you thinking? Did you want to stomp on some pathetic man’s face? Did you want to peg someone? Maybe you’d like to give someone a spanking. I could arrange for any of that.”

“A-actually…I was thinking that you’d be doing something to me.”

“Naughty girl,” Agnes said, shaking her head and laughing. “It’s always the ones you least expect, huh? What do you think you’d like? Need to feel a paddle on your backside? Nipple clamps? I just got this amazing straightjacket and…”

“I saw this picture on your profile that I’ve been thinking a lot about,” Lia said. 

“Which?”

It was tempting to show it to Agnes, though she knew she probably didn’t have to. All she had to do was say ‘diapers.’ Of course, she couldn’t imagine saying that out loud in a place like this–even if she was sure that the loud music would make certain that nobody else would hear her.

Instead, she offered a name: “StephyLoo?”

“Oh,” Agnes said, looking genuinely surprised. “Really?”

Lia nodded. 

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, I think that sounds like a lot of fun. But I didn’t expect you to say that.”

Lia shrugged. “What can I say? It stirred something in me.”

“Actually, you know what?” Agnes laughed, rapping her knuckles on the table. “That actually does make a lot of sense, now that I think about it.”

“How so?”

“Do you remember how I said that there was something about your art that I liked, but couldn’t put my finger on why?”

“Yes,” Lia nodded again.

“See, I think that’s exactly what it is–it’s this sense of childlike whimsy.”

“Childlike?” Lia asked, momentarily dumbfounded. She’d never once considered her art to be childish in any way. She wondered if this was how people actually saw her art. Because if so, she’d probably share a lot less of it moving forward.

“Don’t take offense to it,” Agnes said. “I don’t mean that it looks like a child painted it. I mean that your approach–your color choices and even the movement of your brush strokes–gives your art a sense of uninhibited freedom. The same sort of freedom that I may attribute to, say, a child–as opposed to an adult who’s had all the whimsy drained from their body by the world.”

The longer Lia sat with Agnes’ words, the better she felt about it. She could see where Agnes might be coming from, and now she was feeling kind of silly for not seeing it sooner herself. She always felt like her art came from some part of herself that didn’t get expressed otherwise, and she now had words to describe that part.

“Thank you,” Lia finally said, her cheeks turning pink again.

“So, here’s what I’m thinking,” Agnes said, leaning back a little in her chair as she sips from her martini glass. “What if I give you your, uhm, payment first? I’ll give you whatever experience you want, yes? And then, after, I’d want you to paint something for me. It can be anything you want, so long as it’s inspired by the time you and I spent together.”

Lia considered this for a moment. She liked the idea of it, though she always knew that the hardest paintings to finish were the ones she went into with any sort of purpose. It just felt easier to create when she could just follow whatever whim–however momentary–she was feeling. Then again, maybe this was the shake-up her process needed. 

If nothing else, it seemed like a good idea to at least try.

“Yes,” said Lia. “I like that idea.”

“Well, that’s settled then,” Agnes laughed. “And with plenty of time to spare. Another round?”

Lia downed the remnants in her glass and nodded. “Sounds good to me.”

With the details of their arrangement settled, any remaining tension and uncertainty felt by Lia seemed to fade away. Despite her concerns that she and Agnes had little in common, she found herself having a good time with her new friend. They talked. They drank. Agnes even convinced Lia to dance with her–something that Lia never did in public.

And when it seemed like they were winding down and about to call it a night, Agnes gently tapped on Lia’s shoulder while smiling.

“Hmm?”

“I was wondering,” Agnes said. “You don’t have to go home right away, do you?”

“N-no,” Lia said. “But…where else would I go?” Only after the words had exited her mouth did she realize what Agnes was asking. “Oh…”

“I won’t be offended if you decline my offer. But I’m feeling pretty good right now, and I don’t think I’m ready to call it a night just yet. You could come over to my place. The drinks are cheaper. And…I have diapers.”

Just hearing the word made Lia feel a little smaller. She bit her bottom lip, thinking about StephyLoo’s pathetic face staring into the camera, and she nodded.

***

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Hi! I'm waffflecones! I'm a 30-something guy into abdl, ddlg, and sometimes mdlb (when you can get me to admit it). My pronouns are he/him, I'm single, and I live in New York.

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