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How the Scholarship Works: Chapter1: A four foot eight darker tan girl with a round plushy child-like face sat in the passenger seat, her black bangs just long enough to cover her amber eyes from view, and her other black locks falling wildly to each side of her face in a rat’s nest of tangles. She smelled because she hadn’t bathed in almost three days, and her short blue jean shorts that didn’t quite cover the tops of her panties had a tear in the right legging that exposed her panty bottoms along the back of her thigh. Her yellow shirt that barely had sleeves was stained and dingy. She was a typical teenager from the poorest area of coban, a modest sized city in Guatemala. Sitting next to her, in the driver’s seat, was a man with yellow balding hair near the top of his head and blue sparkling eyes. He was nearly six foot three. Quite the contrast to the short teen, the man was wearing a crisp white clean button down short sleeve shirt and a pair of blue jean trousers that more than modestly covered him. He smelled more of soap and his hair of the shampoo that he had used not more than a couple of hours earlier. The girl was not really ashamed of what she was wearing, how she smelled, or that her panties were practically visible because this was what she had to wear most of her life since she could remember. All of her clothes were stained, even when she first got them since they were all hand-me-downs that people donated to her poor family. None of her clothes ever fit her properly, always having holes in the most intimate places, so that she was used to people seeing parts of her panties and she always wore an undershirt because otherwise, they would see her bra, not that even at the age of nineteen, she had a bosom that even required one. She did try to clean up a bit in the nearby lake that morning because she was going somewhere important with a man that claimed to have her future in his hands, but the lake could only get you so clean. In her own home, the water wasn’t working properly again, and so there was no way they could fill the tub with nice warm water for a proper bath. There was no working shower since she could even remember. “Your clothes are not appropriate for our school,” the man had told the young girl back at her aunt and uncle’s house. “They are too… inappropriate for the college I represent.” She could understand what he meant when she saw how nice he looked, even when they were just going to be on the road for the next few days. She nodded and left all of her clothes at home, not even bringing one change of clothes with her. “We’ll, that is the school, will get you some decent clothes,” the man had told the young girl. “It’s all a part of the scholarship that you’ve won.” Breanna was ashamed that she had to rely on the school’s money to get her something decent to wear, but she was also a bit excited to actually get to get some hand-me-downs that might actually look nice for once. She assumed it would be hand-me-downs. No one ever gave poor people new stuff after all. Who could afford to? As they drove through the rough country, driving up and down rolling hills that was in the mountains with trees and bushes lining the sides of the one lane a-side-road, sprinkled dots of water started to pepper the windshield of the red and black four door hatchback. It had the effect that that Breanna could imagine some Central American god was spitting at her, and she understood perfectly why, if that were the case. Breanna didn’t deserve any of this. Ever since she was around ten or eleven years old, she had been told how undeserving of a good home she really was, and that she was just lucky her aunt and uncle knew she was family. You see, she came to live with her aunt and uncle when she was almost eleven years of age, and at that time, she was still growing out of some shameful childish habits like wetting the bed, and even in her pants at times. She didn’t really mean to wet her pants or the bed, but for some reason, she just couldn’t control herself long enough, especially when at school during classes, so she wet herself not only in fifth grade, but also in sixth grade, seventh grade, and sometimes, even in the eighth grade before her daytime wetting had mostly stopped enough that she had no more accidents at school. She could still hear her aunt scolding her for that last time in eighth grade when she came to pick her up from school. “Breanna! How old are you?” she had asked her the way she always started a scold when Breanna had wet her pants. “It’s no wonder your father abandoned you after your mother died of drug overdosing. You wet your pants like a baby, you eye drugs like it was candy, and you never do anything right, not even your homework!” She felt her eyes tear up as she sat there in the car, knowing her aunt was right. She wondered why the school chose her. She surely didn’t write that good of an essay, and it likely had so many mistakes in it, that they probably wondered if someone in junior high or younger was trying to play a joke on them, trying to get into their school…. “What’s wrong?” Mr. Oswald glanced away from the road momentarily so he could see her sitting there, her head staring down at her lap, tears welling in her eyes, her body shaking with a vibration that had nothing to do with the ill-repaired roads that they were driving on. Breanna sniffled and pulled her head up, sniffled to try to will her snot and tears to go back into her body to hide away. She looked over at the man and shook her head. “No… nothing,” she whispered, though the raspy mostly air filled response gave away a different story. “Honey, you can tell me. It’s okay. It’s just the two of us and no one in this car is going to judge you whatever reason you feel like crying, honey.” She looked up at him. “I promise, I’m okay,” she was still having a hard time keeping mostly air out of her responses which made her voice sound strange, somewhere between a whisper and a voiced sound. He smiled and turned back on the road. “A lot of young people get homesick rather quickly when they realize they are on their way to school that would last four years,” he told her. “It’s alright to miss your family and to cry because you are scared.” She shivered. “I’m not crying cause I’m scared,” she whimpered. “Alright,” he said though his voice was sympathetic, and she wasn’t completely sure he believed her. “I… I don’t deserve to win the scholarship,” she told him under her breath. “I think you guys mixed up the papers or something for the essay.” He turned and looked over at her. “What would make you say something like that?” he asked her. “I just… I know I didn’t write better than anyone else that would be applying. I don’t even know why I tried to write an essay at all. I’m such a loser and never do anything right.” Tears once again came pouring towards the fronts of her eyes, threatening to spill down her cheeks. “Who told you that?” he asked her. “It’s true,” she said. “Just ask me to spell anything you want. Ask me to write something. Tell me to do a math problem, or even….” She turned her head away too embarrassed to say anymore. “Breanna, we pulled the right paper. There is nothing wrong with your writing,” he told her. “You have a lot of typical mistakes that a lot of young people make who have not yet gone to college, but there is nothing to indicate that you write any worse than anyone else.” She just looked down at her lap, hearing the words that she had heard all her life since she was ten years old…. “You are such a loser! You are lucky your aunt and uncle put up with such a troublesome girl as you. You can’t do anything right! Do you still wet the bed? I bet you do. You are such a loser!” The girl shook in her seat. She had not wet the bed in a couple of years, and her pants wetting in the day was mostly behind her, though if she did have to wait too long without being able to find somewhere private, she did leak into her panties once in a while. The man turned to glance at her again. “Sweetheart, you are the winner of our scholarship, and you did it because of your essay and because when I visited your home yesterday to interview you, you impressed me. You did this on your own, and you are NOT a loser.” Breanna kept her head looking down at her lap. “Didn’t my aunt tell you why I’m a loser?” she asked him knowing that her aunt had insisted on talking to him privately even without her hearing. “Your aunt didn’t use that kind of word about you, baby.” “But she told you why I shouldn’t qualify, didn’t she?” He chuckled. “You mean like you just now tried to tell me why you didn’t think you qualified? Yeah. I told her that according to our interview, your essay, and what I picked up of samples of your high school work, you did qualify, and she shouldn’t worry about you failing school.” Breanna shivered and keep her head down. Outside the car, she could hear not only the rain that was picking up speed with the rate it fell from the sky, but she heard some mocking squawking laughing as though from one of those birds that sounding like loud laughing. The gods were mocking her. “Can you pull over for a minute?” she asked the man once he had seemed to fall quiet from trying to convince her that she was not a waste of student space at his school. “Honey, I’m afraid there is nowhere to really stop for a little distance. Why do you want to stop?” “I gotta pee,” she whispered and blushed as she looked over at him. “I can’t pull over here,” he told her. “I promised both your aunt and the school I’d look out for you until you get to the school, and that means watching for your safety.” “But… there’s no one around. I’ll just go behind a bush at the side of the road. Please. I gotta go.” “No,” he said as he continued to drive. “Just try to hold on a little longer, and when I see a decent place that is safer, I’ll stop then.” Breanna put her hand on her stomach and nodded. She knew there was no point in continuing the conversation. He was in control of the car, and trying to take control from him would only make matters worse. A half an hour later, she felt the first leak slip through her inner body, and spray from her folds into her panties. She wet her panties some, just like she always did if she didn’t get somewhere private in time. She hoped that that was going to be the extent of it, and he would find a place soon, but she also knew that there just weren’t that many rest areas on these roads. She closed her eyes and put her hands between her bouncing legs, and rubbed her knees together, hoping she could get to a toilet before anymore came out. The poor nineteen year old didn’t really know how much time had passed, when she started to stare at the floor, tried to shut off her muscle, and tried to keep from anymore coming out, but quite sometime later, she felt her muscle weaken, and a short stream took advantage, and peed a bit into her panties which then quickly went under her bottom and wet her bottom and she couldn’t help but feel her hand down under her shorts to make sure, but the car seat was barely damp. “Please, Mr. Oswald. I’m going to wet my pants,” she said hoping he didn’t smell her or realize she had already leaked twice now. He reached over and patted her arm. “If you wet, sweetie, you wet. There’s not much we can do about it until we find a safe place for you to go.” Blushing, she nodded and felt herself pee some more into her panties, now knowing the seat was getting wet under her. Her legs picked up in speed as her leg bounced up and down as though a jackhammer was trying to break a hole in the car floor. “Tell me the truth, honey. Are you already wet? Did you already go some in your panties, baby?” She looked over at him. She was scared that he had caught her, scared he would yell at her, but even more scared not to tell him the truth now that he probably caught her. “You always secretly pee your pants and go around dirty!” she heard a voice in the back of her mind. “No wonder everyone in town thinks you are a dirty girl! They must think we are the worst guardians ever, and you need to be spanked to learn not to do that!” That was the voice of her uncle, who would then take her thirteen and even fourteen year old self back to the back room, pull her pants and panties down, and then whip her butt until it was red and raw. “I’m sorry,” she whimpered up at him. “I can’t hold it.” “I know,” he put another caring hand on her shoulder. “I’m not mad. I just want to know whether to stop or not.” “What do you mean?” “If your shorts are wet, and showing that you are wet, you’re going to be a lot more embarrassed to have everyone see you in wet shorts, that we can’t do anything about until we get where we can buy you some clean clothes, than you are if you just wet all the way in front me, honey.” She looked up at him. Was he inviting her to just finish in her pants? “Open your legs, let’s see if your shorts are wet, baby.” She was so scared and nervous that her leg continued trying to jackhammer a hole into the floor, but she, shaking, parted her knees and as she did, more pee started to escape into the seat, and a small puddle was revealed in it. “Yeah, you’re pretty wet, little girl. Just finish in your pants, honey. It’ll be less embarrassing for you than getting out and running to the toilet with those soaked things on, and everyone staring at you as go.” Breanna bit her lower lip. Her uncle had certainly never told her to just wet herself. Even if he did see a damp spot under her, he would warn her it better not get any bigger unless she wanted to be spanked twice as much when they stopped. “It’s okay, I promise,” the man next to her told her with a smile. “It’s not your fault, and I don’t want you to walk shamefully in front of a bunch of people showing them you wet yourself like a little girl until you have to, honey. And we both know it’s not your fault.” “It’s not?” she asked confused. How was it not her fault? It was her body that peed and was still leaking under her despite him telling her she can just wet. “No baby. You told me at least twice you had to go, but I’m not pulling over where I’m not sure it’s safe, and a little girl can only hold it for so long.” “But I’m an adult,” she whimpered. “So? Do you think an adult can hold it forever? If I have to go, I’ll stop on the side of the road, but I don’t have to try to go behind the bushes because I’m a man. All I have to do, is turn my back to you and the road, and no one can see me pee, but you’d have had to pull your pants down and everyone would see you naked unless you chanced going beyond the road-bush line, where it could be a sudden cliff, and you falling to your death.” She frowned. What he said made sense. Boys sure had it easy. She continued to feel her panties getting more and more warm and wet every few minutes because it was just too hard now, to hold it. Eventually, the flood broke, she saw a lake rise up around her front even wetting the top of her shorts, some of it rolling over her left leg and back around to her bottom from over top before she could stop peeing. The lake between her legs seemed to take a few moments before it went back down under her wetting all over her butt and then pouring down into the floor. “I wet,” she whispered up at him. “You did,” he agreed whispering back to her. “And it’s okay.” They continued driving, and now that she was already wet, when he saw a rest area, he just drove past it not thinking she’d want to stop like this, she supposed. “How come you're not yelling at me or threatening to turn the car around or spank me or something?” the girl looked up at Mr. Oswald, her face serious and her eyes narrowed at him as though she couldn’t understand his actions. “Well, for one, you told me you had to use the bathroom, sweetheart. You told me not once, but at least three times before you finally just started really going. For two, it is not my place to spank you for wetting your pants whether you are nineteen years old or a child, and for three, I would never punish someone for causing themselves shame. You obviously didn’t do it on purpose, and whether you pee your pants or not has nothing to do with you getting the scholarship, honey.” She felt her jaw drop at his explanations. Even at nineteen years old, she was sure that if her uncle or aunt caught her wetting her pants, they would most certainly be punishing her, and likely even spanking her like the little kid she just behaved like. “Honey,” he looked over at her. “It’s not a punishment, but until your shorts dry out enough, I’m not going to stop anywhere for you to go in for anything. If I stop to get food, I’ll ask you what you want and bring it to you. If I get gas, I might use the bathroom, but if your shorts are wet, and you gotta go, just go in your shorts, honey.” She opened her mouth to argue, but then closed it, and then tried to open it to ask him why he wanted that, but then closed it again. She understood that he thought he was protecting her, but to wet her pants on purpose because her shorts were wet from her accident? Was that really reasonable? But then, she was sure people would stare at an adult that just wet her pants, wouldn’t they? “I know,” he seemed to read her mind. “It’s not going to be easy to just sit there and wet your pants if we are near a toilet, but before we decide anything, we’ll check how wet your shorts are. If they could pass off as dry, I’ll let you go, but if they are wet, I don’t want you embarrassing yourself any more than you are by wetting in front of me, okay?” She nodded with tears in her eyes. “It’s not a punishment, but just to make sure you don’t have to deal with more than you already have to, sweetheart. I know you must be mortified at having wet yourself like a little girl.” Breanna nodded. He patted her arm a third time and even rubbed his hand up and down it. “It’s honestly okay that you didn’t make it, sweetheart. We were going to have to buy you some other clothes before we crossed the border to the United States anyway. Our school would have really frowned on both of us if I brought you there with your panties showing out of both the tops of your shorts, and through the left ripped leg. And that shirt is so stained, that the school would wonder if I was taking care of the people I brought to the school at all if we arrived with you wearing that.” Breanna blushed. “It’s not your fault. I know what your Aunt and Uncle’s situation is, so of course you didn’t have anything decent in your drawers, which is why we left all your other clothes at home. You and I will get you some stuff to wear when we get to Guatemala.” Of course, Guatemala City was the capitol named for the country. They drove along for quite some time, and when she did have to pee again, he demanded she move over on her hip, and let him see under her, the back of her shorts and the seat, and then he let her sit again. “Just wet your pants,” he told her. “You’re too wet to stop somewhere without anyone seeing, so you’re not getting out of the car until we get to Guatemala City.” She frowned. “For real?” “For real, sweetheart. Feel your hand on your shorts if you don’t believe me that you are too wet to get out.” She knew she was wet. She could feel it on her bottom without having to check with her hand. “But if I just wet on purpose, like… like a baby….” “Not a baby,” he whispered over at her. “Like an eleven year old that has already had one accident, and doesn’t have anywhere to go again. Think of it like what a child would do, if she was trapped and already wet, honey. Because honestly, you are not going to want to go into a store in an adult mindset the way you are anyway, are you?” Breanna looked at him knitting her eyebrows and her mouth forming a small pouty smile. “What do you mean?” “Well, you are going to end up going into the clothing store with me in those wet clothes, and even if they dry even a little, people are going to notice that you’ve peed, right?” Tears threatened her eyes again. She nodded. “You are short enough with an innocent looking enough of a face, you could pull off looking a lot younger. Wetting as a child is pretty embarrassing, but which would embarrass you more, people thinking a dirty adult woman peed her pants while we are getting your clothes, or a little kid that couldn’t hold it long enough while traveling, had had an accident in the car?” She looked down at her wet shorts. Maybe he was right. Maybe it was less embarrassing if people thought she was a little kid that wet herself. But how old did he think she could pull off looking. If he was thinking fifteen years old, that’s really not that much less of an adult than a nineteen year old. “Just pretend to be my little eleven year old daughter. I’ll explain that we were on the road from Coban, and that you just couldn’t hold it all the way here, and you were scared to pee in public with people passing on the road, so you tried to hold it, but couldn’t.” The girl frowned and looked up at him. “But you were the one that was scared of me going….” “Alright, I’ll them everyone I didn’t want you running off of the road to go, and so I wouldn’t pull over for you because you couldn’t promise to pee in front of your daddy. Most eleven year olds wouldn’t want to pee in front of their daddies, especially with other cars passing by, too, right?” She nodded with a sigh. “So, when we are shopping, you’ll pretend I’m eleven, and I had an accident in my pants because the rest areas were too far apart?” “That’s the plan, honey.” She nodded. “So, you spank me when we get to the store, and after I change my pants?” “No. I’m not spanking you, another or real child, or even my own for an accident in your pants, honey. An accident means you didn’t mean to do it, so there is no reason to punish you for something you just couldn’t control. You did what you could. You asked me to pull over, and I didn’t want you to just pull your pants down in the car on purpose… so you were a good girl.” She looked up at him again, really trying to understand why he kept saying she was a good girl and that wetting her pants was really okay. They got just into the capitol city when her bladder gave out, because she really couldn’t get comfortable with going on purpose even if he did tell her to, and she wet herself literally, moments before they pulled into the parking lot for a huge department store. “Here we are,” he told her. “Now, did you do as I told you and wet your pants completely yet?” She looked up at him with a frown. “Honey, I don’t want you peeing on the floor in the store on purpose, and we can’t take you to the bathroom to change you until we get you some clean clothes, so I want you to be finished wetting before we go in.” She signed and looked down at her lap. “I think I finished….” “Well, make sure. Push and see if anything comes out, honey.” She did, and when she pushed, she surprised herself as she started wetting, and the water literally flooded the seat again and all over her pants. Come to think of it, she really had not experienced the real flood the second time. She just thought she had just peed so slowly that it just didn’t come out as a flood this time, but there it was, when made to push to see if she could wet, the flood came, and it kept coming and coming and coming. She really had to pee, and before she was done, her seat was a soggy mess and the floor around her was soggy. She was surprised it didn’t make a lake on the floor. “Finished?” he asked her when it looked like the waters had stopped. She tried to push again to make sure. He wanted her to wet, and she didn’t want to make him mad at her, more mad, than he should be that she even already wet herself, twice, in his car. There was nothing left. She had completely wet, so she nodded. “Good girl,” he leaned over and hugged her a moment with one arm, and then he got out, and she sat there, waiting for him to come to her side of the car, hesitating to get out in the sopping wet shorts she was wearing. “Come on, baby,” he opened her door and helped her out getting her to her feet. “Embarrassed?” She looked down at her feet, her shorts just sopping wet. She nodded. “I know, honey.” Before she could object, and surprised at his strength, he lifted her up and started to carry her, just as if she really was a child. “Um…,” she wanted to object, but drawing too much attention, and people would surely look at her wet butt and know that she was probably in trouble for wetting, and if he was right, that she looked like a child, they would probably assume she was just being a brat because he was trying to get her into the store to get her some clean clothes, so she stopped herself from making a scene. “Trust me, baby. You’ll thank me for carrying you like a child and taking care of you. No one needs to know you are any older than eleven years old.” She nodded and sighed. Maybe he was right. When they got into the store, he put her down next to the shopping carts, and had her get one to start pushing. “Having a shopping cart in front of you will stop people seeing your wet shorts from the front, and ‘daddy’ will walk behind you also with my hands on it, so not so many people will get to see your wet butt, either, okay?” She nodded. Tears slid down her face as she let him push the cart with her, feeling no older than seven years old like this, maybe even younger. They pushed the cart, not towards the adult women’s section, but towards the preteen girls’ section. Breanna looked up at the towering man and coughed lightly. “What is it?” he asked her. “We… we’re going to the children’s area,” she thought she was alerting him. “I know, honey. You’ve wet your pants, and we need to get you some clothes, and if anyone sees you wet, they’ll definitely know we are getting a child some clothes by coming this way.” She blushed. “So… um… I have to wear children’s clothes?” “Do you want to go to the adult section and admit to everyone that a nineteen year old adult peed herself not once, but even did it a second time because she was asked to?” Her face got really hot with embarrassment and she shook her head. “Of course you don’t. So, it’s either kids’ clothes and I explain a little girl couldn’t hold it from Coban or it’s women’s clothes and everyone will assume a young adult just peed herself in the car for little to no reason.” She sniffled and but went along with what he was doing, and he took her to the little preteen panty area. Preteen panties, well, that should just be plain or pastel panties that were more or less, mature looking? But no… he took her to the colorful panty area with some pictures of cartoon characters on the butts and on the fronts, even. “Choose come cute panties, honey, like a child. Please.” She was scared to argue with him. At least he wasn’t really scolding her or telling the whole store she had peed her pants. He really was acting like a daddy that was walking behind his wet little girl, trying to keep her accident as little noticed as possible. Sighing, she eventually stood in front of the underwear rack looking at princess panties. She looked up at him. “Are these kind of okay?” she asked as she pointed at the panties that were colored yellow, purple, light blue, pink, and so on with Disney princesses on the butts on some and on the fronts of others. “Yes, honey. Now, what size can you comfortably get in to? Don’t tell me you don’t know, because with your height, I’m betting you’ve had to buy preteen panties before for one reason or another.” She blushed. He was right. Her aunt had even threatened to buy her preteen panties, was it last year, when she had accidentally wet herself partway, when they had been at church, and she couldn’t get away in time, that her panties had gotten wet. She didn’t remember how or why her aunt had found out she was wet under her skirt, but they had gone right to a store, and her aunt had drug her to the preteen panties, just like this, actually, and made her point out a pair of the most childish panties she could fit into. Luckily, her aunt had gotten her all the way to the cashier, before as red faced as Breanna could be, the aunt said that they must have picked up the childish panties by accident, and let her off. But he was not letting her off. It was either fully act like a child right now, or everyone in the store would know what a dirty woman she was. She couldn’t bare anyone knowing she was nineteen, wearing wet peed in shorts, and walking right next to him as if her daddy was trying to help her get clean clothes. He had her pick out three different pairs of panties, one pair of purple with Jasmine on them, one lightblue with Ariel, and one pink with Else, the Snow Queen on it. Then, he walked her towards the jeans and skirts area for preteens. She looked up at him for direction. “Get a couple of plain pairs that just look normal,” he told her. “Even preteen girls sometimes wear just plain jeans. And then get a pair of cute shorts, one pair of cute jeans and one cute skirt.” She did so. But if she was getting five clean bottoms, why only three pair of panties? She wasn’t really sure what he was thinking, but she decided it better not think too much about it. Once she had bottoms that he was satisfied with, he took her to get some nice tops. Again, he allowed her two plain looking tops and then three tops had to be cute. After that, some undershirts, and then two pair of pajamas, some nicer shoes than she had on, and then they were back in a panty area, only, these panties looked even more juvenile than preteen panties. “Um….” “Honey, you need some panties for bed and our long car trip. These are the best kind if you are trying not to wet yourself, but leak in your panties.” “But….” He patted her back and whispered in her ear. “You are a good little girl,” he told her. “I know you aren’t wetting on purpose. But I don’t expect it to get any easier to find toilets on the road until we get past the US border, and honey, that’s still four days away.” She nodded. “And your aunt told me that you do wet the bed at night.” Her face went bright red when he said that. “I do not!” she rasped in a whisper. “My aunt was just trying….” “Your aunt showed me your bed mattress with all the stains from you wetting it.” She looked down. No wonder he thought she could wet herself so easily. Her aunt had betrayed the family secret, though she had not actually wet the bed in at least a year and a half, she wasn’t really sure how to convince him that it was just old stains that he saw. How was a nineteen year old young woman to convince someone that she just wet until she was around seventeen? What other seventeen year old wets the bed? “If you thought I wet the bed,” she finally gathered some strength to confront it while she looked over the more juvenile panties that definitely had a thicker feel as though they were made for little accidents. “How come you decided to still pick me for the scholarship?” “I already answered that question earlier, baby. Your scholarship has nothing to do with whether you can keep your pants dry at night or daytime, or anything like that. It is about your eagerness to better your position in life, and your essay was inspirational.” “But my essay was really bad, wasn’t it? I am bad at writing, always making the wrong word and spelling wrong, and it doesn’t make sense and stuff….” “Honey, your essay was really good,” he put a hand on her shoulder and sent a strong feeling through her when he did that he was telling her what he really believed. “You need to believe in yourself a little more, sweetheart.” She nodded. Of course, her aunt and uncle, and most of the people she had grown up for the last ten years or so would have been telling her the opposite. Her aunt knew just how immature and how much a loser she really was. He helped her pick out five pairs of basically potty training panties, though they were not quite so small and not quite so babyish as that. Once he had her clothes for her all ready to go, he made sure she was in position again, the car blocking the front of her shorts and him standing behind her to block the view from behind, and they walked towards the checkout lines. Well, it wasn’t completely hidden, and when they were in line, a girl, maybe around the age she was supposed to be, maybe a little younger, tugged at her mom and then pointed at Breanna. “Mommy, look. That poor girl wet her pants.” Her mother smiled at Breanna and waved, and then she hugged her own child and whispered to her. “It’s not nice to point out other’s little booboos. Her daddy will take care of her, honey.” The child nodded and said “Sorry.” Oswald heard everything and he decided it was time to play up what he had told Breanna he would do. “Well, what can an eleven year old do? We were driving all day, from Coban, and well, she’s eleven. You don’t expect her to go out on the side of the road where everyone can see, right?” The woman smiled. “And of course, I wouldn’t let her run off into the bushes because some of those places are just freefalls on the otherside of the bushline, so I told her to either squat on the road or get back in the car, and she got back in the car. I can’t blame her.” The woman nodded approvingly. “You’re a good dad to not be mad at her for that. My husband would have killed our daughter if she didn’t just pee on the road like you told her to do, but I think it was wrong.” “Didn’t you tell him that he shouldn’t force her to pee in front of people like that?” “Um…. I…. Well, my kids need to know that you don’t fight about discipline in front of them, so I told my daughter to listen to her dad even though I didn’t like it.” Oswald nodded. “Well, if anyone tells me I’m wrong for understanding my little girl’s need to be modest, they can just go… well, go somewhere they don’t like and live there. If my little girl wets her pants, that’s really just between me and my own little child, right?” The woman nodded. Then, she was at the counter and taking care of her things. Breanna had blushed when they first started talking, but as they got into it, and the man was calling her modest, which was a good thing, and that whether she wet or not was really no one’s business but her daddy’s and if he wanted to let her be modest, and anyone that didn’t like that, could just die…. She started to feel better about the idea that he had said she was only eleven years old, and the lady bought it. They eventually got to the front to pay for their stuff, and then he started to walk her over where the bathrooms were, but he stopped in front of the men’s room. “I’m going there,” she pointed at the women’s. “Honey, I don’t want you going in there by yourself….” As they were deciding, that same woman came by, and noticed their stand off. “Your little girl feeling too old to go in the men’s with her daddy, huh?” she asked him. “Yeah. But her mommy isn’t with us anymore, and I really feel nervous letting her go in there alone.” “Maybe I could go in with her?” “I appreciate it, but no. You’re still a stranger to me.” Breanna crossed her arms. “Then what am I going to do?” she asked him. “You don’t need to pee, do you?” “No. I already did that in the car, remember?” “Yes, baby. I know. Tell you what, let’s go unload what we have, and then come back into the store for a few more things….” “How’s that going to let me change my pants?” “You’ll see. Just trust daddy, okay?” he winked at her. “Fine, but I’m not going in a men’s bathroom.” “You don’t have to, sweetheart.” “And I’m not showing my butt to anyone outside.” “No, sweetheart. That’s why we need some more stuff in the store. I promise, you’ll have privacy to change, and won’t have to use the public toilets to change your pants.” She blushed but went with him to drop off their shopping, and then walked with him back into the store, the same as before, the cart and Oswald trying to block anyone from seeing her wet shorts again. Back in the store, Oswald picked up some cushions, a couple of soft matts, some short curtains and rods that seemed rather flexible, and eventually, they got back to the car, where he put a curtain in the back behind the backseat, one on each side window, and then, somehow, he got an adjustable rod to hold a curtain between the front seat and the backseat, so that even he couldn’t see her when she changed. “Alright now, we’ll put a changing mat on the backseat,” he told her. “Stand up in the back until you can get your shorts and panties down, so you don’t get your matt wet, and then when you put on clean clothes, they won’t get wet,” he told her. She looked up at him and nodded. Then she got in the car and he closed the back door, and even though the curtain divided the front from the back, he stayed outside the car while Breanna stripped off her wet things. She looked over the childish panties he had gotten her, but decided they were better than wet things, and put the Ariel panties on. Then she put on some plain jeans, and taking off her dingy shirt, she exchanged it for a pink shirt with a rainbow on it and a Unicorn head coming from under the rainbow. Have a Sparkling Day the shirt read under the picture. Once she was changed, she opened the car door to let him know she was done. He had her twirl for him and then smiled. “The front seat is all wet, where you were sitting, so you should sit in the back until it dries,” he told her. “Anyway, we are going to get something to eat for dinner and then stay the night here.” She nodded. She definitely didn’t want to sit in a pee soaked seat while wearing clean new jeans even if the panties under them were very juvenile. It's been a while since I wrote, and this is the first time to try to write something, well, like this, so I hope it worked. anyway, try to enjoy it, and I know there is a lot of 'you have to suspend your belief' moments in this one for the story to work. I'm sure a lot of girls would put up much more of a fuss and the whole idea is likely just a fantasy. No way of being real... but anyway....