The Price Of Free Money (Chapter 20; Sept 14, 2020)

[The Cle-venger]

Chapter 1

 

With a sigh Chelsea logged off her GoFundMe page; $0 raised.  Weren’t guys supposed to just give hot girls money?  Spring break was a mere six weeks away and she was still $483 short of the cost of hotel and airfare.  Being that it was her senior year at college, and she had never in her life been to spring break, she was determined to do whatever it took to make it to Fort Lauderdale.  While it wasn’t time for drastic measures just yet, if she didn’t come up with something soon, once again, she’d be stuck sitting home with her mother and 13-year-old sister Madison.

 

“Mom!  I’m going over to Kristina’s!”  Chelsea shouted grabbing her coat and heading for the door.  It seemed silly to have to report everything she did to her mother at the age of 21, but her mother was very big on responsibility and accountability.  “Won’t be back til late, love you!”

 

 

Walking her pink huffy bike that she had gotten for her 12^th birthday out of the garage before hopping on and pedaling towards her best friend’s house, Chelsea daydreamed about what life would have been like if she hadn’t grown up in a lower-middle class, single parent household.  Surely, she would have been able to borrow the money needed for the trip from her mother instead of being told ‘sorry dear, I work 12 hours a day, 6 days a week just to pay the mortgage and buy groceries’.  Of course, if her father hadn’t been a deadbeat who drank himself to an early grave, she wouldn’t have to spend all the money she made working part-time between classes to pay tuition.

 

 

Twenty minutes later she arrived at Kristina’s house and was promptly ushered inside.  The pair spent a good deal of time discussing homework, instructors and cute boys.  For her part Kristina had a boyfriend and was always pushing Chelsea to hook up with one of his friends.  “Come on, you know Eric has a crush on you and I bet his cock is huge.”

 

 

Face turning 50 shades of red Chelsea stammered, “You know I’m still a virgin!  My mom would flip her lid if I brought a guy home.”

 

 

“Where do you get that?  Your mom seems cool to me, she’d understand.  Or is the baby too scared to tell her mommy she’s an adult now?”  Kristina pounced on her friend, tickling at her sides and eliciting a few giggles.

 

 

“You’re probably right,” Chelsea regained her composure.  “So long as I was responsible and honest about it, she’d probably be happy for me. Maybe I’ll hook up with him on spring break.”

 

 

“You got the money?”  Kristina clapped her hands excitedly.

 

 

Chelsea groaned, “No.  God.  What am I going to do?”

 

 

“Have you ever considered scientific research?”  Her friend opened her laptop, “The university pays students small amounts of money to try new products.  Just find a few that don’t seem too dangerous and you’ll be good to go.”

 

 

Peering over Kristina’s shoulder, “This says you can only be part of one study at a time.”

 

 

“Yeah, usually $50 for one week, though occasionally they do longer studies that pay better.  Those fill up fast though.”

 

 

“Why didn’t you tell me about this earlier?  $50 a week isn’t going to be enough.”  Pointing at the screen, “Wait go back.  Click that one!”

 

 

Both girls read the description, ‘One person needed for hair removal cream study.  Get paid $500 for 4 weeks of use.  Cream intended to penetrate hair root and kill it preventing hair from ever being able to grow back.  Unknown side effects, university will cover medical costs for any adverse reactions.  Study conducted by Professor Walter Kilbride.’

 

 

“Quick, sign me up!”  Chelsea clapped her hands.

 

 

Kristina wrinkled her eyebrows, “Sounds kind of sketchy and Kilbride is a nut.”

 

 

“Do you want me to be able to go with you to Fort Lauderdale or not?”  Grabbing the mouse from her friend she clicked on the registration link.  “Besides, if it works, I won’t have to get a wax before we leave.”

 

 

Kristina moved out of the way and Chelsea hurriedly filled in her information on the screen.  Clicking the submit button she crossed her fingers hoping nobody had beaten her to the punch.  A few seconds later her phone beeped indicating a new email.  Opening it she broke into a wide grin.

 

 

“You got it?”  A mix of concern and excitement in Kristina’s voice.

 

 

“Just have to meet with Professor Kilbride tomorrow to sign some paperwork and pick up the cream.”

 

 

With the monetary crisis averted the girls decided to raid the kitchen making sandwiches before heading to the living room to watch movies.  A Harry Potter marathon was playing on USA and they picked it up midway through ‘The Prisoner of Azkaban.’  By the time Minister Fudge admits Voldemort is back at the end of ‘Order of the Phoenix’ it was getting late and Chelsea said her goodbyes.  She had a big day tomorrow and couldn’t wait to get it started.

[D503]

Great start. Love that she's still supervised heavily by her mom.

[ppbenn]

An interesting premise. I'm curious to read more soon. Thanks for sharing!

 

[Cya]

I'm hooked.

[kirababy]

looking forward to the next bit of this one.

[Bonsai]

Those tricky Professors that propose a 4w test for a product that should be fast acting and then volunteer to “cover medical costs for any adverse reaction” are surely not to be trusted

Will things become smooth? Will they go smoothly?

[The Cle-venger]

Chapter 2

 

The following morning Chelsea bounced down the stairs into the kitchen to grab a couple strawberry pop tarts eager to start the day.  Not surprisingly her mother had already left for work and Madison was still asleep, though the little squirt would probably be up in short order to catch the bus to school.  Breakfast popped, was quickly devoured and Chelsea was out the door to meet Professor Kilbride.  Campus was 22 blocks away and took her 15 minutes to navigate, traffic being light at this hour of the morning.  Locking Floyd, her pink bicycle, to a post outside the chemistry building she straightened her clothes and went in search of the professor’s office. 

 

 

Finding it on the second floor she gently rapped on the door, “Doctor Kilbride?”

 

 

“Ms. Dowd, I presume?  Do come in.”  The portly professor waved her to a chair opposite where he sat at his desk.

 

 

Closing the door behind her the nervous college girl took the offered seat.  “I’ve never done anything like this before.”

 

 

“That’s quite alright,” he chuckled.  “I’ll walk you through everything that will be required, then if you’re still interested, we’ll have paperwork for you to fill out and how to log your daily experiences in the computer.”

 

 

“Don’t I just put on the cream?”

 

 

“Yes and no.”  With strained effort the professor leaned down to slide open a lower desk drawer and pull out a packet of papers.  Handing them over he continued, “Once a day you’ll apply the cream to the area you wish to permanently remove hair and let it soak in for at least 30 minutes after which time it can be washed off having done it’s work.  I ask that you try to apply it about the same time each day, though that isn’t necessary, merely a request on my part.  Once you’re ready you’ll log into a website whose address is in that packet and make notes on the cream.  Did it burn?  Was it itchy?  That sort of thing.  You’ll also be able to record side effects such as numbness or rash.  Now the part that might be a deal breaker; a photograph of the area needs to be uploaded to each day’s log.  I have no interest in making your private parts public, so you’ll be provided a genital guard to cover yourself with in the photos.  Actresses use them when filming sex scenes so they should work for what we’re doing here.  A ‘before’ photo will also be required.  Questions?  Comments?  Concerns?”

 

 

Chelsea hesitated, the only person who had ever seen her naked was her mother and now she was being asked to take nearly nude photos of her crotch for who knows all to see.  “Can I see what the guard looks like?”

 

 

From the drawer the papers had come he withdrew a plastic package.  “There’s a ladies room down the hall if you’d like to try one on and see if it conforms to your standards of modesty.  If not, no hard feelings, I can repost the study easily enough.”

 

 

Taking the guard, the young girl proceeded to the restroom and entered the first stall.  Lowering her pants and panties she sat on the toilet and read the instruction on the outside of the package.  It was fairly straight forward, apply a bit of glue around the outside edge of the guard and press it firmly into place.  She did, then stood up to inspect it’s effectiveness.  There was a good seal over her nethers and it didn’t allow anything she wanted to remain private to show, but Chelsea wasn’t sure she could go through with it. 

 

 

Peeling off the device she disposed of it in the trash on her way out before returning to the professor’s office.  Five hundred dollars.  Spring break.  With a deep breath she opened the door.  “I’ll do it.”

 

 

“Wonderful!” he beamed.  “Have a seat, read and sign the papers and I’ll be right back with a box of 50 guards.”

 

 

The forms were much as she expected, this drug may have unknown side effects, I promise not to sue the university, I am responsible for my own well being and will seek medical help at the school’s expense if necessary.  Blah, blah, blah, she eagerly penned her name on the appropriate line of each page and leaned back in her seat awaiting the plump man’s return. 

 

 

Mopping sweat from his brow and taking a second to catch his breath Professor Kilbride handed over a medium sized box and two jars.  “This should be more than you need but if you for some reason run out let me know and I’ll provide more.  Other than that, you’re good to go.”

 

 

Chelsea thanked the man and shoved the offered items into her backpack.  A smile plastered to her face she unlocked old Floyd and rode over to her Algebra class arriving early.  Taking the opportunity, she sent Kristina a text that she’d be starting the trial that night once her two classes and shift at the diner were over.  A few seconds later she got a myriad of emojis indicating her friend was happy for her.  Soon people started filing in and class was underway.

 

 

An hour and a half lecture on calculating matrices was hard enough to sit through when you cared about such things, having to do it when you were a poetry major was torture.  Instead, Chelsea jotted down a series of haikus about the things she saw around the room.  A guy sleeping and nearly falling out of his chair, a girl with purple and pink hair, and her personal favorite, the mound of hair on the instructor’s upper lip that he was oh so proud of.  Having survived, she gathered her books and jetted off to anatomy class.  More boredom, more haikus and more time successfully killed, she’d have homework for both classes tonight but nothing she couldn’t handle. 

 

 

Leo’s Coney Café was a few blocks off campus and usually slow on a Tuesday afternoon; Chelsea hoped this day would be different, so time didn’t continue to drag on.  A few of her classmates were seated in the red pleather booths when she arrived already gobbling their greasy grub.  She slipped on her apron and set to work making sure everyone was satisfied, refilling their sodas and engaging in banal banter.  By the end of the night the poor college girl had finished off her homework in her down time and still managed to sucker almost $60 in tips from the patrons.  All-in-all a pretty good night, now all that was left to do was to ride pink Floyd home and start the study.

[Cya]

Pretty good chapter. I think she's going to find that the cream does a lot more than simply remove hair.

[aldl4811]

I really like the start of this. Good intrigue 

[Bonsai]

I wonder if there is any clause about ending the testing ahead of the expected term of 4 weeks. Will she be paid by the week, or just at the end of the testing? Are there any special conditions to follow in order not to breach the agreement?

[kirababy]

what could possibly go wrong???

[The Cle-venger]

Chapter 3

 

“Heya, Squirt!”  Chelsea said earning a glare from her younger sister.  “Whatcha up to?”

 

 

Madison returned her attention to what she was doing, “homework.”

 

 

“Need any help?” The elder sister plopped down on the sofa and picked up the paper the younger had been working on.”

 

 

Snatching it back, “No.  And how many times have you told you I don’t like that nickname?”

 

 

“Whatever.  Let me know if you need anything.”  Chelsea stood up, ruffled her sister’s hair and bounded up the stairs.  Once in her room she dumped the contents of her backpack on the bed digging out the supplies for the study.  First things first, she unwrapped a guard, secured it in place and begrudgingly snapped a ‘before’ photo.  Syncing it with her computer she then spent several minutes zooming in and examining it to ensure you couldn’t see anything you weren’t supposed to, just the neatly trimmed hair the cream would soon be removing.  Content her modesty mostly remained intact the college girl unscrewed the cap to one of the professor’s jars, dabbed a bit of the viscous green gel onto her fingers and rubbed it on the intended area before wiping her hands clean on a bath towel.

 

 

Naked from the waist down, Chelsea sat in front of her computer and logged onto the website from the instructions.  Starting with her observations, she wrote that it was warm though not hot and felt a bit tingly but not unpleasant.  With this being her first day she skipped over the side effects box, reasoning that even if there were some, they hadn’t had time to manifest themselves as of yet.  That brought her to a small gray box containing a single word at the bottom of the page and the only thing that legitimately worried her.  Taking two deep breaths she selected the appropriate file, positioned the mouse over the button and closed her eyes.  With thoughts of money dancing in her head she lowered her finger clicking the mouse and sending her first naked photo off into the ether. 

 

 

Checking the clock, the human guinea pig saw she still had 20 minutes before the cream could come off, so she checked her email, caught up on world news courtesy the Microsoft News app and lost three games of solitaire.  With the wall mounted timepiece at last signaling she had waited long enough Chelsea wiped away the green goo and was the opposite of surprised to find there hadn’t been any miracles in the last half hour, which is probably why the study takes a month.  Redressed she went back downstairs to see Madison had finished her assignment as well and was now engrossed in an episode of ‘Family Guy’. 

 

 

When a commercial came on the 21-year-old asked the 13-year-old, “What you want for dinner?”

 

 

“I already put chicken tenders and french fries in the oven.  They’ll be done in ten minutes when mom gets home.”

 

 

Just as the younger girl had foretold the elder was removing a tray from the oven as the matriarch of the house strode through the door.  Greetings were exchanged and all three sat down at the table for one of the three most important meals of the day.  Between bites the ever-dutiful mother inquired as to how school was, to which, both girls replied it was good.  Madison bragged she was top of her eighth-grade class earning a wow from mom and good job from Chelsea who then shared her news that she was close to saving enough for spring break eliciting congratulations from the family.  When everyone’s plate was barren the elder daughter collected them to deposit in the dishwasher, the younger resumed her place in front of the lone entertainment box and mother went upstairs to shower. 

 

 

The following morning the college girl was the last up since she didn’t have class until 930.  Taking her time in the shower the hot water did it’s job washing the nighttime zombie away and she walked down the hall to her room to get dressed.  Pulling on the handle to the underwear drawer she was reminded it was Wednesday by the green stenciled letters on the otherwise white ‘granny’ panties on top.  She had once upon a time complained to her mother about the boringness of her underwear and asked if she could have panties with more color.  Her mother’s response was to stitch the days of the week just below the front waistband of two weeks worth in the colors of the rainbow.  Red for Sunday, orange Monday, all the way through violet on Saturday; but since laundry was washed and stacked in her drawer for her, she lived with it. 

 

 

American Literature, sometimes referred to as Ameri-Clit by the boys in the class due to its predominantly female author orientation, was one of her favorite classes and first on the day’s agenda.  As a class they spent forty minutes discussing Edith Wharton and her writings on the aristocratic lifestyle she was born into.  From there the teacher then had everyone break into smaller groups of four or five students to write short plays based on Wharton’s novellas.  Chelsea’s merry band, two girls and one guy she was friendly with but who weren’t necessarily friends, was assigned ‘Ethan Frome’ with a due date two weeks hence.  Having exchanged phone numbers they agreed to meet at the library later that evening and went their separate ways.

 

 

Next on the agenda, lunch.  The 21-year-old walked into the campus food court and located her friend who was frantically waving her arms.  Walking over she noticed Kristina’s boyfriend Rex and his friend Eric were seated with her, “Hey everybody.”

 

 

“So are you bald yet?”  Kristina displayed her complete lack of tact causing Chelsea’s eyes to bulge and Eric to choke on his chocolate milk.

 

 

“No,” the red tint starting to fade from Chelsea’s cheeks.  “Can we talk about something else?”

 

 

Eric managed to regain his composure, “I hear you’ll be going to spring break with us.”

 

 

“Uh huh,” Chelsea’s face once again flushed.  “Couldn’t let you have all the fun without me.”

 

 

“Wouldn’t be fun at all without you,” Kristina laughed before she and the boys regaled the first timer with stories of previous spring breaks. 

 

 

For her part Chelsea had heard it all before, each time more fanciful than the last and as always fueling her desire to join the adventures.  Inevitably the revelry came to an end, the four said their goodbyes and ventured forth.  The rest of the afternoon passed uneventfully, a beginner’s tennis class Chelsea had taken as an elective because it sounded fun, a short shift at Leo’s that failed to net much profit and a semi-productive hour in the library with her fellow Wharton writers.  All-in-all a productive if not tiring day that left just one thing to do before bed.  The young college girl returned home, trudged upstairs to her room and slopped the green goo onto her crotch.  Thirty minutes later the documentation was done, the cream wiped away and a bit of a surprise; some hair from the treated area had fallen off.  With a smile Chelsea put her Wednesday panties back on and herself to bed, failing to notice as a few yellow droplets soaked into the cloth between her legs.

[Crinkleybutt]

I'm really enjoying this. The setup was unusual and definitely hooks you in. I can't wait to see how things progress!

[kirababy]

yes it is a nice slow build.

[lookingfordad]

Can't wait for more 

[The Cle-venger]

Been out of town the last few days, hopefully get an update out tomorrow

[The Cle-venger]

Chapter 4

 

Waking up the next morning Chelsea slipped off her nightclothes, wrapped a towel around herself and padded towards the shower.  Being a normal person, she did not inspect her underwear when she took them off; if she had she would have noticed a yellowish tinge, slightly larger than a postage stamp that had dried to the crotch of her panties.  As it was the 21-year-old went about the morning ritual of brushing her teeth, fixing her hair and selecting an outfit to wear, which included a clean pair of Thursday panties.  After a breakfast of Fruit Loops she embarked on another day having the same two classes as Tuesday but no work afterwards and she was hoping to spend that free time with Kristina at the mall.

 

 

By the time anatomy class ended Chelsea was eager to meet with her best friend.  Standing up she briefly felt a slight chill between her legs, then, just as quickly dismissed the sensation as a figment of her imagination.  Kristina met her outside where she unceremoniously loaded Floyd in the back of her friend’s truck for the voyage to the mall.  The girls proceeded to giggle their way through two hours of window shopping, once in a while stopping to try on clothes or sunglasses but no purchases were made.  Chelsea and her pink bicycle were dropped at home, said goodbye to Kristina and headed inside to find her mother had already prepared dinner.  Afterwards the 21-year-old cleared the table, loaded the dishwasher and went upstairs to start her new nightly regime.

 

 

Sliding down her pants and panties she gasped, more of her unwanted hair was falling out.  Excited by this unexpected turn of events she set to work on this evenings experiment and its obligatory online documentation before noticing the real surprise, a small stain in her underwear.  Chalking it up the excessive laughter earlier with Kristina, though somewhat concerning since it hadn’t happened before, she tossed the soiled undergarment into the laundry and decided to go commando for the night. 

 

 

Friday morning she awoke to a wet patch the size of a dinner plate beneath her and her heart in her throat.  With no time to spare before having to get ready for class she tossed the covers over the spot and hoped that nobody would notice her first accident in 18 years, making a note to contact Professor Kilbride about this latest development.  Fidgeting her way through American Literature Chelsea took out her phone and sent an email admitting her embarrassing secret to the man she hoped could fix it.  The response she got forty minutes later was less than encouraging, ‘I let the campus doctor know you’d be stopping by for a checkup.  Keep me posted and don’t forget to document the incident in you log tonight.’  Suffering through a lack of choices the 21-year-old skipped lunch in favor of the clinic, signing with the receptionist and waiting for her name to be called.  When her turn came, she was ushered back to a standard room complete with a butcher paper covered table and jar of tongue depressors next to the sink. 

 

 

A woman with more gray than brown hair entered after a short wait.  “I’m Doctor Grant, but you can call me Sophie.  What seems to be the trouble?”

 

 

“Well, um…”  Chelsea’s face reddened and she stared at her feet.  “I, um, have been doing a study with Professor Kilbride and think it may have caused me to wet the bed last night.”

 

 

The doctor scribbled a note on her clipboard, “Just the one accident?”

 

 

“I may have had a small one during the day yesterday, my panties were a bit damp when I got ready for bed.”

 

 

More scribbling, “Any leaks today?”

 

 

“I don’t think so.”  The college girl’s lack of confidence shown through.

 

 

“Let’s have a look, shall we?”  Sophie set her clipboard down, gloved up and sat on a rolling stool at the foot of the butcher paper covered table.

 

 

Reluctantly unbuttoning her jeans and kicking them aside Chelsea buried her face in her hands.  The doctor made a comment that she was a bit wet and had the younger girl remove her panties as well.  Conducting a few tests to check muscle and nerve control she seemed satisfied that everything appeared to be in working order.  “I’m not seeing anything wrong, it’s possible the gel the professor gave you is temporarily numbing your nerve endings which causes you to leak.  I’ll write a prescription for nighttime protection so to speak and have you come back in a week to see if things have improved.”

 

 

Chelsea got redressed and took offered slip of paper from the doctor on her way out.  Shoving it in her pocket she hurried off to tennis class glad that she could wear sweatpants when she got there instead of those skimpy skirts the pros wear.  Fortunately, there were no more incidents the remainder of the day and by the time she got home she was ready to pass out; however, she had a decision to make.  Continue to use the gel and possibly wet the bed again or quit and be back to square one on spring break funding.  Neither were appealing but the desire to jet off to sunny Florida won out and in anticipation of a potential accident Chelsea retrieved a towel to sleep on and prayed it would protect her bedding.

 

 

If having dawns early light streaming through the open curtain was a tragedy to wake to, then having said light flood in because your mother had been gathering your laundry and noticed stains in your underwear was an unmitigated disaster.  Taking a seat on the bed beside her daughter, Angie felt a cool dampness and ripped back the covers, “Care to explain?”

 

 

“It was an accident?”  Chelsea felt like a toddler, which considering the state of her bed, was far closer to the truth than she’d care to admit.

 

 

“Looks to me like you knew it was going to happen and decided that in addition to ruining your mattress you wanted to besmirch my good towels as well.”  Holding up her hand to stop the younger girls protests before they started she continued, “I also found a prescription in your pocket that would have prevented all this.  Clearly you aren’t as responsible as I thought you were so once you’ve showered I’m driving you up to the campus pharmacy and you WILL be having it filled.”

[Shotgun Diplomat]

This is an interesting take on the sudden bed and pants wetting trope. I am very interested where you take us with this. One phrase stood out to me in your latest chapter. 

1 hour ago, The Cle-venger said:

Clearly you aren’t as responsible as I thought you were

Is this a precursor of Moms attitude to come? 

[Bonsai]

When things get out of your hands and into mommy’s ones, usually stuff starts to accelerate  downhill. On the upside, she managed to get “free nappies”! Yay!

[kirababy]

nice twist.  and yes,, getting mommy involved will escalate things.

[D503]

Strict mother! 

[The Cle-venger]

Chapter 5

 

Left without an option Chelsea did as instructed returning to her room after a long, hot shower to find the bed stripped down to the mattress and the telltale bedwetter stain upon it.  Throwing on a t-shirt and sweats she made sure to close the door on her way downstairs lest Madison walk by and find out about her little problem.  The effort was for naught as the 13-year-old was hitching a ride to her friend’s house on the way to the pharmacy where mother handed daughter the prescription and informed her she’d be waiting in the car. 

 

 

Heart racing the 21-year-old stepped up to the pharmacist window, “Hi, uh, I have this prescription.”

 

 

Reading over the note the man behind the counter stepped down onto the sales floor indicating his customer should follow, “Let’s see, two packages of Tranquility ATN should be, ah, right here.”

 

 

“Uh, thanks.” Chelsea mumbled and stared not wanting to touch the suggested packages. 

 

 

Clearly not amused by her hesitation the man took the selected diapers, thrust them into her arms and led her to the front of the store where he announced to the clerk at the desk, “It’s a prescription, she’s all set, no charge.”

 

 

Mortified beyond belief Chelsea sprinted to the car desperate to get out of public view.  Her mother looked over the diapers, “Tab style, 12 per package, for overnight protection to keep clothes and bedding dry.  Now that wasn’t so hard was it?”

 

 

“Mother, please, can we just go?”  The younger girl buckled in.

 

 

Backing from the parking space, “Do I need to tell you what you’ll be wearing to bed until you prove you don’t need them?”

 

 

“No.”

 

 

“And can I trust you to handle this little problem yourself?”

 

 

“Yes.”

 

 

“All right.”  Angie turned onto the road headed home.  “It’s your responsibility.  I won’t say another word about this so long as I don’t find any more wet sheets or panties.”

 

 

“You won’t.” Chelsea sighed. 

 

 

Arriving home, it was a blessing Madison had gone out, it meant she wouldn’t have to smuggle her recent acquisition inside, though a discreet hiding place in her room was a must.  Under the bed and in the closet were briefly considered and immediately dismissed, they were the first place anyone snooping would look.  It wasn’t that Chelsea didn’t trust her younger sister; it was being prudent to keep her secret safe.  When all was said and done, she settled on pulling the bottom drawers out from her dresser and double stacking the diapers in the three inches of space between the floor and the under side of the drawers. 

 

 

After the excitement of the morning mother and daughter spent the next couple hours lazing around in front of the television.  For Angie it was a rare chance to sit back and relax, and Chelsea took it as a return to normality.  Around noon Madison returned home, dropped off by her friend’s mom, and all three ladies of the house lunched on turkey sandwiches, chips and sodas.  Feeling full, mother returned to laundry duty, younger daughter started homework and elder daughter hopped aboard Floyd for an afternoon at Leo’s Coney Café. 

 

 

The afternoon was a whirlwind for the 21-year-old as a non-stop flow of customers poured through the diner door.  Unfortunately, when all they order are milkshakes or chili cheese fries it doesn’t add up to much in the way of a tip, just sore feet and wish that she could afford a clunker car so she didn’t have to use those aching feet to pedal home.  A note on the kitchen counter explained her mom and Madison had gone grocery shopping and to heat up the leftover meatloaf in the fridge.  Doing so Chelsea took an opportunity to reflect once again on her choices; should she quit the study and find another way to come up with the cash?  Grit her teeth, continue and have to wear a diaper to bed?  Or was there a way to complete the study and keep her bed dry without resorting to the infantile underwear?  A ding from the microwave interrupted and after quickly devouring dinner she used the empty house to her advantage seeking out a way to make option ‘C’ a real possibility.

 

 

It was in the basement that she struck gold so to speak, an old bifurcated plastic crate with mesh divider, designed to keep clothes from getting musty, half filled with old clothes.  Dumping it’s current contents into another container she sat inside the now empty space finding just enough room to accommodate her hips and that it was deep enough that if she did wet it would drain through the mesh into the lower container keeping her bed, and more importantly herself, dry.  While not a perfect solution it seemed comfortable enough to sleep in so that she wouldn’t have to wear a diaper, and it could be easily emptied into the toilet in the morning.  Taking it up to her room she logged into the study’s website and began the evenings events, making sure to note her newfound bladder troubles in the side effects section. 

 

 

The requisite 30 minutes elapsed and the gel, along with most of her remaining hair, wiped away left her crotch nearly bare.  Smiling that at least one good thing had come from all this Chelsea placed her pillow against the headboard so that she would be nearly seated upright while sleeping and climbed bottomless into the plastic bin she hoped would be her salvation.  Hearing her mother and sister arrive home downstairs she put bedtime on hold, through her panties and night shorts on and helped bring in the week’s food supply. 

 

 

“Going to bed so early?” Madison remarked handing Chelsea a bag of frozen peas.

 

 

Tossing them in the ice box, “Long day at work.  You’ll understand some day squirt.” 

 

 

“She’s doing it again!” The 13-year-old whined.

 

 

Angie walked through the door with the last bag, “Be nice to your sister, she isn’t a little girl anymore.”

 

 

Chelsea stuck her tongue out at Madison and finished putting everything in it’s place.  Saying her goodnights she climbed the stairs to her room, chucked the clothes from her lower half back in the laundry basket and resumed her position in the plastic tub.  Within a matter of minutes after her head hit the pillow, she was deep in dreamland, images of warm sandy beaches dancing through her head.

[The Cle-venger]

Chapter 6

 

2:24am Chelsea woke with a start and a desperate need to use the bathroom.  Throwing off her covers was as close as she made it before pee started leaking from her into her homemade plastic bedpan; dejectedly she let it flow.  Once the stream came to a conclusion Chelsea carefully extracted herself from the bed, reached over to pick up the now full tub and emptied it’s contents far earlier than she intended.  The shifting of the weight caused the liquid inside to surge towards her exposed fingers and her involuntary reaction of letting go of the sides of the tub.  On the verge of tears, the 21-year-old watched the urine soaking into the sheets and wondered how she was going to hide this from her mother.

 

 

Let’s see, mom would be out the door for work around 700am and since it wasn’t the weekend Madison probably wouldn’t be up until after 900am.  That gave her a two-hour window to run the sheets down and wash them, no worries there it was plenty of time.  Looking to her alarm clock she set it to go off at 650am, pulled her pillow down to the floor and tried her best to forget what just happened and get some sleep, after all there was nothing she could do about it until morning.  Tomorrow night would be better, she’d remember to slide the tub to the side of the bed before lifting so there wouldn’t be a spill and she wouldn’t have to resort to, yuck, diapers.  After all, it wasn’t her fault, not really, her plan had technically worked.

 

 

‘Beep! Beep! Beep!’ Chelsea groggily struggled to hit the snooze on her alarm only to have the sound silenced mysteriously for her.  Opening one eye she immediately regretted it, “Shit!”

 

 

“Language young lady,” Her mother admonished.  “I heard your alarm going off and figured you accidently set it last night.  I was going to turn it off so you could sleep, but then I saw all this.  Care to explain?”

 

 

As much as she wanted to Chelsea couldn’t find the words, instead she draped the soiled sheets over her nakedness and sobbed.  “I, I, uh…”

 

 

“You didn’t wear your diaper, wet the bed and then were planning on hiding the evidence from the looks of it.”  Angie huffed.

 

 

“It’s not like that.”  Chelsea defended herself by picking up the plastic bin.  “I was sleeping in this and my bed was dry, but it spilled when I was going to empty it.”

 

 

“I don’t have time for this, I have to go to work.  We’ll talk more about this when I get home.”  Her mother stormed away.

 

 

By the time her sister woke up Chelsea had indeed washed, dried and remade her bed; she was munching a bowl of cereal in front of the television when Madison joined her.  After a couple of mind-numbing programs and lunch Kristina swung by and picked the elder sister up for a trip to the mall.  Once there they set about trying on clothes, playing with the all furry critters at the pet store and of course a rousing game of people watching bingo which Chelsea won.  In celebration of that fact, the 21-year-old swung her leg over top the coin operated horse kiddie ride and sat down to discover a warmth spreading betwixt her legs.  Before she was able to dismount her friend deposited a quarter into the appropriate slot, the horse began to rock, and more pee escaped into her rapidly moistening panties.

 

 

When she was finally able to escape, she made a beeline directly to the bathroom to inspect the damage, a softball sized wet spot on her jeans and very yellow Sunday underwear.  Sitting in a stall, tears filled her eyes, “Why, why, why?”

 

 

“You all right, girl?”  Kristina poked her head into the restroom.

 

 

“No.”  Chelsea choked out.  “I had a little accident.”

Stepping all the way in and locking the door her friend asked, “Anything I can do?”

 

 

“Can you by chance run these under the dryer?”  She knew Kristina wouldn’t make fun of her and flopped her jeans over the top of the stall door.  “Thanks.”

 

 

In a matter of minutes, the pants were dry, and the girls exited the restroom after Chelsea hurriedly wrapped her wet underthings in paper towel and stuffed them into her pocket.  From there, the afternoon’s fun having been ruined, they headed to their respective homes.  A quick shower and change of clothes later did little to improve the 21-year-olds mood as she sat around awaiting her mother’s inevitable arrival and the lecture that was sure to follow.  Sure enough, as she was reflecting on her own misfortune, Angie entered carrying a Hot and Ready pizza from Little Caesars. 

 

 

Gobbling down two slices Chelsea then excused herself to her room to slather her privates in green goo, she had no doubt by the end of the night she’d be demoted to diapers, might as well continue the study to ensure it wasn’t for nothing.  A knock on the door as she was wrapping up the nights log sank her heart, “Is that you mom?”

 

 

“Can I come in?”  Was the older woman’s reply.

 

 

Chelsea pulled on her night shorts and sat on the bed, “Yes.”

 

 

“I think you know why I’m here,” Angie entered, closing the door behind her, and taking a seat beside her daughter.  “I’m not mad at you, just disappointed that you didn’t take the doctor’s advice.  I know it must be hard to be your age and to start having problems like this, but if the doctor said it was a temporary thing because of your study or whatever, then the best you can do is ride it out.”

 

 

“But I don’t want to have to wear those things, they’re gross.”  The 21-year-old pleaded.

 

 

Angie toed the plastic bin still sitting on the floor from earlier.  “Grosser than sleeping in that and getting pee all over the place?”

 

 

“Yes.  With the tub the pee went through the mesh and into the other compartment and it wasn’t strapped around my waist.”  Chelsea could see her mother wasn’t convinced.  “And the only reason the sheets were wet was because I dropped it.”

 

 

“Well, I still think you should try the diapers.”  Angie patted her daughter’s leg and stood up.  “Put one on and since you’ve demonstrated I can’t trust you on this, I’ll be back in a few minutes to check.”

 

 

After her mother left the room Chelsea removed her soon to be plastic prison from it’s hiding spot beneath the drawer and laid it out on her bed.  Staring at it, she knew that she had to bite the bullet and slid down her shorts.  Laying on top of the offensive garment she pulled the front up between her legs and secured it in place, or rather tried to.  Of the four tapes, one wouldn’t stay on, another was loose and the diaper as a whole looked a bit crooked.  She was puzzling how to fix it when her mother returned to the room.

 

 

“Oh honey, that’s going to leak.”  Angie tried not to laugh.  “Why don’t you get another diaper and I’ll help you.”

 

 

The 21-year-old did as she was told and for the first time in 18 years her mother fastened a diaper around her hips with explicit instructions not to take it off until she could be checked in the morning.

[Bonsai]

If such depilatory cream was available for real, plenty of people from here would be interested to try it!

I like how her loss of control creeps forward, slowly but surely. Will the cost of swim diapers be covered by her agreement with Professor Kilbride?

[aldl4811]

nice job so far