The Life and Humiliations of Lavender Fairchild, or A Tale of Diapers and Doctorates

[Chels in Ribbons]

Chapter Twenty-Six

            The rest of our first day at the lake house passed largely without event. Vivian said nothing about my choice of underwear, which I was thankful for. We went to lunch at the diner our temporary landlord had recommended, went shopping, and then spent a quiet evening in. We made a simple dinner—salads with grilled chicken—and settled in on the couch for an evening of horror movies.

            It was almost a perfect evening. I was curled up and leaning against Vivian, drinking wine, watching scary movies (which I loved at the best of times but were only enhanced by being held by Vivian), and wearing a pull-up under my pajamas. I could think of a couple of things that would improve the evening—a sippy cup for my wine, a pacifier, a stuffy to cuddle, and thicker undergarments—but, all-in-all, it was a blissful night.

            Halfway through the second movie and halfway through the second bottle of wine, however, the inevitable happened—I had to pee.

            Just wet your pull-up, that’s what it’s for.

            I can’t just…casually wet myself while cuddling with Vivian!

            Why not?

            I…well…I just can’t, okay?

            But why not? That’s what the pull-ups are for; everyone here knows you are wearing pull-ups because you sometimes have accidents, so…just have an accident.

            I glanced up at Vivian from the corner of my eye, but she was absorbed in the movie. How on earth would I explain to her why I wet my pull-up?

            Just say you had an accident! It’s not complicated!

            But…wasn’t it? She would know I hadn’t like…tried very hard to make it to the potty if I don’t make a show of it…

            You’re over thinking this; she certainly isn’t going to think about it that hard. You have accidents, so have an accident. You’re the one who said you’d be able to commit to this!

            I said I’d be able to commit to wearing pull-ups full time!

            And that doesn’t include the occasional accident? If you don’t have any accidents, you won’t have an excuse to wear the pull-ups. Just say you didn’t notice. Oh! Or better yet, you got scared by the movie!

            I bit my lip. That could work.

            Gods, was I really going to do this?

            I glanced up at Vivian again, but she showed no signs that she was aware of the turmoil going on in my brain at that moment.

            “You okay, darling?” Vivian asked as I drew attention to myself shifting around to get into a more comfortable position in which to wet my pull-up.

            I nodded, “just had to readjust,” I told a half truth.

            I thought it would be hard; I thought some mental block would keep me from easily wetting my pull-up. Such mental blocks were no stranger to me. Anyone who has ever purposefully wet themselves can tell you that. Of course, I had plenty of practice overcoming them, so much so that under the best of circumstances I didn’t even have to try, but this was different. I had never wet myself while cuddling with someone, and I expected it to be hard. I expected to have to focus, to put real effort into releasing my bladder.

            So, imagine my surprise when warmth began flooding my pull-up effortlessly.

            Careful now, don’t flood it too much and leak.

            This was much harder than getting started. After an initial burst, I had to clench down, try to slow my stream, so I wouldn’t surpass the pull-ups ability to absorb liquid. This was, again, something I was practiced at, but I couldn’t help but feel a pang of longing for my diapers, which didn’t require so much effort. Still, before long my bladder was empty, my pull-up warm, soggy, and squishy, and my pajamas, not to mention the couch below me, perfectly dry.

            I sighed contentedly and snuggled into Vivian, who wrapped her arm around me and pulled me close.

            Now, this is bliss.

            I still missed my pacifier and sippy cup and everything else, but it was certainly getting closer to perfect.

            “What did you think?” Vivian asked almost an hour later as the credits began to roll.

            “Mm, I thought it was pretty good,” I said as I sat up and readjusted so I was looking at her. My pull-ups squished beneath me as I did, and I couldn’t help but savor the feeling. “The monster was kind of silly looking, though.”

            “I agree,” Vivian nodded and leaned forward to pour the last of the bottle of wine into our glasses. “Sadly, I think that’s the weak point of a lot of horror films; I think it’s more effective when you never see the monster, to be honest.”

            “Mhm! Whatever we imagine is always going to be scarier anyway!”

            Vivian and I quickly finished off the last of the wine as we discussed the movie. My biggest complaint about the movie was that it wasn’t scary enough to provide a probable alibi for my wet pull-up, though that particular critique went unvoiced.

            “Well,” Vivian said some time later, “shall we watch another one? Or perhaps there are…other activities we could get up to?” She smirked and raised one eyebrow before tossing back the last of her wine. “And what about another bottle of wine?”

            I smiled even as I was biting my lip and finished off my own wine. “Another bottle of wine, for sure. And then…I don’t know…” I spoke coyly and looked at Vivian through my eyelashes, “what else could we get up to?”

            Vivian chuckled and stood up, “why don’t I get us another bottle of wine and then we can figure it out.”

            I watched Vivian saunter out of the room—how did she manage to look elegant and sexy even in loose fitting pajamas?

            So, are you just going to keep sitting in your wet pull-up? Wait until bedtime?

            I was left in a bit of a conundrum concerning my pull-up. I could just go change—in fact, I’m pretty sure that was exactly what I would do if I actually needed the pull-ups and wasn’t just a diaper-loving degenerate. However, that was also the least fun option, not least of all because I would have to slink away, which would inevitably provoke questions that I was too embarrassed to have to answer.

            You can wet yourself while cuddled up to Vivian, but you can’t tell her you had an accident?

            Those two things are very different.

            It’s all part of wearing pull-ups full time.

            On the other hand, if I waited until bedtime to change, well…first of all, I knew I’d probably have to pee again before then, especially considering all the wine and the fact that I had broken the seal already. Secondly, it was likely that Vivian would change me into my night time diaper again—the thought filled me with anticipation—which means she’ll notice my wet pull-up then and I might have to explain why I sat in a wet pull-up for so long.

            Just lie and say it happened recently?

            Before I could consider my options too much, Vivian returned with a chilled bottle of white wine and filled both of our glasses.

            “So?” She asked as she poured, “Another movie? Or…something else?”

            I smiled over the rim of my wine glass and took a sip. “Mm, well, did you have anything in mind?”

            Vivian sat down next to me, crossed her legs, and sipped at her wine, seemingly deep in thought. “You know, my little Lavender,” she said lightly after a long pause as she reached over and gently stroked my cheek before pushing some stray hair behind my ear, “maybe we should just…enjoy each other’s company, what do you think?”

            I smiled and scooted closer to her on the couch, pressing my body against hers, and in response Vivian wrapped her arm around me and held me close. “That could be nice,” I sipped my wine and then leaned forward to set it on the coffee table before settling back. “I feel like it’s been so long since we’ve properly…enjoyed each other’s company,” I said, using her euphemism.

             Vivian reached out with the hand that wasn’t holding my body close to hers and cupped my cheek, “you’re so gorgeous, darling,” she said before leaning in and gently kissing me. I kissed back harder, wanting more, but she pulled away with a playful laugh; I made a whining protest in my throat as I bit my lip. “Someone’s eager, aren’t they?”

            I let go of my lip and exhaled, long and slow, “you’re teasing me,” I accused playfully.

            She gently grabbed my chin and placed her thumb on my lower lip; I shuddered and wrapped my lips around the tip of her thumb—half-way between sucking her thumb and kissing it. “Oh, darling,” she said softly, “I’m not teasing you, just…drawing things out.”

            “Teasing,” I said softly, distantly—something about the way she was holding my chin made me brain go foggy, and I was quickly becoming drunk on her touches.

            “Mmm,” Vivian sounded amused, “and what would you have me do, my little Lavender?”

            “Kiss me?”

            She leaned, shifting her hand from grabbing my chin to cupping my cheek, and kissed me, long and slow. Then with increasing intensity. I started to whine as she seemed to be pulling away, but she just laughed, bit my lip—I shuddered and gasped in surprise and pleasure—and began kissing me with newly invigorated passion. And then Vivian was on top of me, straddling me and pressing my against the back of the couch, her hair draped around me as she held my face with both hands and kissed me needfully, her tongue darting and running over my lips. One of my hands settled on her hip while the other played up and down her side before finally making its way to her chest. I played with Vivian’s nipple through her shirt, and she moaned against my mouth.

            You’re making out with Vivian while wearing a wet pull-up.

            I squeezed my thighs together gently, squishing the pull-up between then and pressing the wet garment against my most sensitive parts. I was making out with Vivian in a wet pull-up, and she had no idea.

            Vivian ran her hand through my hair, gently at first, but then she closed her fist and gently pulled my hair. I inhaled sharply and let me head be yanked back; then Vivian’s mouth was against my neck, sucking and biting even as she maintained gentle pressure on my hair—not enough to truly hurt, but enough to give the sensation of having my hair pulled. My fingers trailed from her hip, around her thigh, to trace a line up and down the hem of her panties, gently teasing her. She rocked her hips to give me better access, but I went no farther than tracing her panty lines.

            “Now who’s teasing?” She stopped sucking on my neck to whisper directly in my ear, then nipped at my earlobe. “Be a good girl and touch me.”

            “Touch you where?” I said with a smirk, echoing the game she had played the last time we were making out on my couch—right before I pissed myself. “Tell me where, exactly.”

            “Mmm, you’re playing a dangerous game, my little Lavender,” she warned, then gently ran her tongue around the outside of my ear—a little moan of pleasure escaped my lips. “Be a good girl and touch me,” she repeated with my force, “and maybe I’ll reward you, do you understand, my little Lavender?”

            I swallowed hard and nodded, “yes, mis—” I cut myself over before I could finish the three-word phrase I had uttered so many times in my imagination.

            “Hmm? What was that?” Vivian asked, clearly picking up on the extra half syllable.

            I shook my head, “yes, Vivian,” I said, and complied, beginning to slowly rub Vivian’s lips through her panties—I felt her muscles tighten for a moment as she gasped, then slowly relax as she exhaled.

            “Uh uh,” she spoke a little breathlessly, “you were going to say something else, what were you going to say, darling? Be a good girl now and don’t like.”

            I was blushing furiously and stammered wordlessly for a moment before I could find words, “it’s just…I was going to say…”

            “Go on,” Vivian was rocking her hips back and forth in time with my hand. I pressed against her clit, and she gasped but maintained her cool—more importantly, she maintained focus. “Keep going, Lavender, but you can’t distract me, tell me what you were going to say.” She was breathing slow and deep, but still had a mischievous look on her face. “Come on, now, or you won’t get a treat.”

            If my face got any warmer, I was sure I was going to burst into flames.

            Think of something else, what could you have been saying? Yes, miss…no, not miss, what else starts with m…my love?

            “I just…uhm…yes, my love?” I ventured.

            “Is that really what you were going to say?” Vivian asked with more than a hint of suspicion. “One more chance to be a good girl, little Lavender.”

            “I…” I bit my lip and locked eyes with Vivian for a long moment.

            Just tell her; she’s making out with you while you’re wearing a wet pull-up, how badly is she really going to react to you calling her ‘Miss Vivian’?

            She doesn’t know I’m in a wet pull-up…

            If only I hadn’t been so terribly horny in the moment, I might have been able to think of a way around admitting what I had said, but I was cornered. I broke eye contact with Vivian and looked away, there was no way I could say it while making eye contact like that.

            “I said,” I began cautiously, “or…was going to say…uhm…yes…Miss Vivian…”

            Vivian’s lips curled into a grin, “So…say it.”

            I snapped my head back to look at her, my face a picture of surprise. “W-what?”

            “Say it,” she repeated with a tone of finality.

            “Yes…yes, Miss Vivian,” I stammered.

            “That’s right, my good girl,” she stroked my cheek gently, “and you’ll do anything Miss Vivian tells you to, isn’t that right?” Hearing Vivian refer to herself as ‘Miss Vivian’ sent a shiver through my whole body.

            I liked my lips and nodded.

            Smiling, she slid of my lap backwards and stood up in front of me. “I’m so glad to hear that, darling, because you’re going to make Miss Vivian feel very good, aren’t you?” She slowly removed her pajama pants as she did, revealing a simple, unadorned pair of black bikini panties. I couldn’t help but blush at the disparity between our undergarments.

            I nodded eagerly.

            “Of course, you are,” she said as she sat back down on the couch, facing me with her back pressed against the arm of the chair. “Take my panties off,” she directed.

            Shifting around so I was facing her, I reached out and hooked my fingers around the waistband of her panties on either side and began to slowly slide them down her legs. Vivian lifted her hips just enough for me to slid them out from under her, then settled back down.

            “You’re so good at following directions,” Vivian praised. “Now,” she reached out with both hands and grabbed my hair on either side of my head, then pulled my head down between her legs, “I trust my little Lavender knows what to do, yes?”

            Vivian’s hips bucked forward as I began running my tongue up her lips before working through her folds to find her clitoris. She moaned and arched her back as I began spelling out my name against her clit with my tongue.

            “Good girl,” Vivian moaned the words, elongating them with at least a dozen extra vowels each, and began to play with my hair, alternating between gently running her fingers through it and softly yanking on handfuls.

            My own parts throbbed against the inside of my pull-up, and even as I licked and sucked and let my tongue play games between Vivian’s thighs, my hand ventured down between my own and pressed the wet padding firmly against my skin. I rocked my own hips against my hand, rubbing the piss-soaked padding against myself.

            Yes, Miss Vivian.

            The words were burned in my head.

            My good girl.

            Every nerve in my body vibrated with those words.

            Lost in the moment as I was, everything else faded away until it was just Vivian and me. All I knew was her taste, her smell, the sound of her breathing and her occasional murmurs of encouragement, and the feeling of her hands in my hair and the wet pull-up against my skin. Minutes passed, perhaps hours, perhaps lifetimes. Vivian’s hands tightened their grip on my hair and I felt her whole body begin to tense; she was close.

            Reluctantly, I stopped rubbing my own padding and let my hand drift upwards where I plunged my fingers inside Vivian. She gasped and made a high-pitched sound as I pushed her over the edge; her whole body shuddering, muscles tensing and loosening. She held me so close to her so tightly that I thought I might suffocate, but it never even occurred to me to slow down or resist, I simply kept working my tongue against her and moving my fingers in and out as Vivian cried out.

            Slowly, slowly, Vivian’s cries turned to whimpers, turned deep, slow breaths as her body relaxed, melting into the couch.

            I sat up, wiping juices from my face and grinning, “I did good?”

            “You did very good, my little Lavender,” Vivian laughed breathlessly, “very good.”

            “Time for my treat?”

            Vivian smirked, “didn’t you already get your treat?”

            I pouted, “no?”

            “So, you weren’t touching yourself for most of that?” Vivian cocked an eyebrow at me, and my face flushed.

            “But! That was…I mean…you didn’t say I couldn’t,” I pouted, and Vivian laughed.

            “Don’t worry,” Vivian sat up and pushed me back until I was leaning against the opposite arm of the couch, “you’ll get yours; I’m just teasing.”

            Vivian hovered over me, her hair falling all around my face. She looked down at me, smiling hungrily. Her brushed my knee and then her fingertips were gently trailing their way up my inner thigh toward—

            Your wet fucking pull-up.

            Oh god.

            “Vivian, I…”

            Vivian’s face flashed a moment of surprise that quickly faded to concern, and her hand quickly withdrew. “Lavender? What is it? Are you okay?” She was still hovering over me but she held her body rigid and as far from me as possible.

            “Yeah, I…um…”

            What was I supposed to say? My pull-up is wet?

            “What’s going on, darling?” Vivian asked.

            I bit my lip and nodded. “I just…” Frustration welled up in my chest. The worst part was it was my fault; I could have gotten changed earlier, like when I had first wet myself.

            Or just not wet yourself in the first place.

            Or even put on the pull-up.

            And now you’ve ruined your sex life because you wanted to pretend you’re incontinent.

            “Lavender,” Vivian’s gentle voice brought me back to the moment. I looked up; her expression was soft and warm. “Darling,” she gave me a knowing smile, “I already know…”

            I knew what she meant immediately, and my face went scarlet. The problem was, she thought she knew, but she only knew half the truth. I bit my lip and exhaled deeply.

            Maybe…try being honest for once?

            “I’m…wet?” I muttered weakly.

            “You’re…? Oh.” Vivian said, confusion turning to understanding, to surprise. “Oh!”

            “I’m sorry, I—”

            “Lavender,” Vivian interrupted me, “were you wet when you were touching yourself earlier?”

            My stomach dropped. I nodded.

            Why did you nod?

            I don’t know!

            Why did you nod?!

            I panicked!

            But Vivian…Vivian was smirking. Slowly, she crept back over me, her hair washing against me, until her face was above mine. “If you don’t care,” she said as her hand brushed past my thighs, “then why should I?” She pressed her hand against my wet pull-up and my breath caught in my throat. I looked up at her with surprise and lust, my lip caught between my teeth. “I told you, my little Lavender,” she whispered, “none of this bothers me.” Her fingers rhythmically pressed the soaked padding against me, and I rocked my hips in time, my breaths quick and shallow. “And I love you.”

            Everything stopped.

            I looked up at Vivian, my eyes wide. “Yeah?”

            “Yeah,” she nodded.

            “Yeah.” I nodded. “I…I love you too.”

            “Yeah?” Her smile absolutely lit her face up.

            “Yeah!” I laughed.

            And then she was kissing me, and her hand was working furiously against my pull-up, and my hips moved instinctively, and time stretched out or compressed or maybe looped back on itself a few times but then the world exploded into starlight and sound and a ragged cry was ripped from my throat as I clawed at Vivian’s back and then everything was white, then black, no, my eyes were just closed, tears poured down my cheeks as I opened them. I looked up at Vivian and a swell of emotion rose in my chest, threatening to turn into a fit of joyful sobbing, but I fought it down, and smiled weakly instead. “I love you.” I repeated.

            “I love you, my little Lavender.”

[YourFNF]

[Chels in Ribbons]

21 hours ago, YourFNF said:

I gotta be honest, I don't know what this reactions means XD good, I hope?

Chapter Twenty-Seven

            The next morning, I awoke to an empty bed. I sat up, my diaper crinkling and squishing beneath me, and rubbed my eyes. Vivian was probably already up and had breakfast prepared. But as I shuffled sleepily out of the master bedroom, I heard the sound of typing coming from somewhere in the house. Following the sound, I quickly found Vivian posted up at a desk in one of the bedrooms with a typewriter of all things—the quintessential picture of the author.

            “Morning,” I said softly from the doorway.

            Vivian jumped a little in her seat before turning around, exhaling heavily, “Lavender, you scared me a little.”

            “Sorry,” I smiled apologetically as I walked into the room and sat on the twin-sized bed. “Whatcha doing?”

            “Writing,” Vivian said simply, gesturing to the typewriting, “I guess you could say inspiration hit. I couldn’t wait to get out of bed this morning and start writing, I haven’t even had breakfast yet,” she said the last part in a conspiratorial whisper.

            “You’re not doing work, are you?” I asked, remembering how she had chided me for suggesting I might get some work done on our vacation.

            Vivian giggled, “not at all, I promise.”

            “Then let me make us some breakfast,” I said as I stood up, “and you keep writing, okay?”

            “You’re going to make breakfast?” Vivian asked uncertainly, “Lavender, you’ve as much as admitted to me that you don’t know how to cook.”

            I huffed. “I can toast a bagel and cut up some fruit! It’s not the fanciest breakfast, but…still…”

            Vivian smiled appreciatively, “that sounds lovely, thank you.”

            “Of course,” I smiled back at her then turned to the door, “one bagel and fruit, coming right up!”

            “Oh, but Lavender?” Vivian called as I was walking out of the room, “You should probably change first.”

            My face was suddenly very hot—I hadn’t even thought twice about walking around in my soaked diaper. “I was just about to do that!” I lied, then dashed out of the room and back to the master bedroom.

            You’re getting a little too comfortable wearing wet padding around Vivian…

            She doesn’t seem to care. Especially not after last night.

            Last night…

            I sighed dreamily as I ripped the tapes off my diaper and deposited it in the trashcan in the en suite bathroom. Last night had been magical.

            Changed into a fresh pull-up, I made my way to the kitchen and whipped us up some breakfast—a toasted bagel with cream cheese for Vivian and one with hummus for me, plus some strawberries for both of us. Vivian took a break from writing to eat with me on the back patio. I was dying of curiosity about what Vivian was writing, but I refrained from asking about it, trusting Vivian to share it with me when and if she wanted. So, instead, we made small talk, mostly about our plans for the day—Vivian wanted to spend the day writing, so I was left to entertain myself.

            When we finished breakfast, Vivian went back to her typewriter while I cleaned up our dishes. With everything cleaned up, I set about finding something to do.

            I thought about curling up on the back patio with a book, or maybe even rowing out onto the lake and enjoying my book out in the early summer sun, but, instead, I found myself wandering through the house. I had given the place a quick once over when we had arrived, but now I was really looking through everything. I wasn’t looking for anything in particular, I was just bored and curious.

            In the living room, I found a stash of board game, many of my childhood favorites amongst the title, and I made a mental note to bug Vivian to play some of them with me. I also found a collection of DVDs and books, the titles so eclectic it was clear that much of the collection had been accumulated from forgetful temporary tenants.

            The rest of the house had very little of any real interest, and I was close to giving up my search entirely until I came across a bedroom that was very clearly intended for children. The room had a set of bunk beds and, I blushed to see, a crib and changing table.

            At least the landlords thought to provide for families.

            Beyond that, the room had a bookcase that was stuffed full of various children’s books, more board games, and toys of all sorts. A toy chest sat next to the bookcase and right in front of a window that looked out over the lake; it was also full of toys and stuffed animals. It was clear this collection was also at least supplemented by the leftovers of the countless families that had passed through this house.

            And then I found the real jackpot.

            Opening the folding closet doors, I found huge plastic containers absolutely full of Legos. My eyes went wide, and my face lit up.

            It took me multiple trips to carry it all out into the living room, where I had a lot more floor space, but before long I had pulled out all the containers and had them set up in a semi-circle in the living room.

            And so morning slid into afternoon; warm sunlight streamed through the living room windows, illuminating my playspace, and so gradually did it fade that I didn’t even notice I was squinting in the dark to see the Lego pieces. By the time the sun set, leaving the living room to be lit by only a single table lamp that did little to fight off the encroaching darkness, I had built myself a giant castle out of mismatched blocks, but there was something regal in its patchwork color palette.

            I was just sitting back on my heels, admiring my work and decided what to build next, when bright light flooded the room. I cried out in surprise and squeezed my eyes shut behind my hands.

            “Sorry,” Vivian said, “I should have warned you first.”

            I blinked a few times to adjust to the light and looked over at Vivian, who was standing just inside the doorway by the light switch.

            “You look like you’re having fun though.”

            I couldn’t help but blush a little. Sure, Vivian changed my diaper, but she thought I couldn’t help that. But here she was, having just caught me in the middle of playing with children’s toys.

            “Yeah,” I confirmed bashfully, “I haven’t played with Legos in…well, not since I was a little kid.” Which was true, but I had already promised myself to look into buying myself some Legos to play with at home.

            “It’s a lovely castle,” Vivian said genuinely, then added, “Are you the princess?” With a bit of a teasing smile.

            I wasn’t sure whether to laugh and play along or pout—different parts of me wanted to do both in equal measure. “Of course, I am,” I said finally with a huff, as if it was the dumbest question ever asked.

            “Of course, you are,” Vivian repeated.

            “How’s you writing going?” I asked after a moment of silence.

            “It’s…going really well,” Vivian walked into the living room, skirting around my Lego bins, and sat down on the couch. “I…well, I’m sorry I left you alone all day to work on this,” she raised the stack of paper in her hand. It was the first time I had noticed she was holding it, and I couldn’t help but stare at it with intense curiosity.

            “Is it…done?”

            “No…yes? Maybe…it’s…well, it’s not the best thing I’ve ever written. It was a bit rushed, honestly, but I guess I just really wanted to get all my thoughts out as quickly as possible. So, I guess…maybe the rough draft is done? I don’t know if I’ll ever bother editing this one though.” Her tone of voice was subdued, as if she was exhausted, or maybe nervous. Was she just tired from writing all day?

            “Is it…like the stories you used to write on those forums?” I asked, recalling the conversation we had just a couple days before in her kitchen.

            She smiled, “Yeah, it is.”

            “Did you have fun writing it?”

            Her smiled faltered, “It was…difficult to write, if I’m being honest. But I think I needed to write it, and I feel better having done so.”

            “Well,” I said, unsure of exactly how to react, “I guess that’s good?”

            “It is,” she looked up at me and smiled. “Lavender, um…I’d like to share it with you?”

            My heart skipped a beat; I had a sense of how important this was to her, how vulnerable she was being by even offering. “Are you sure?”

            “No,” she laughed, “but…yes.”

            She held out the bundle of papers, but I didn’t take it.

            “I don’t want you to show me because you feel like you have to.”

            “But I do have to,” Vivian said, “because I wrote this for you. And maybe writing it was a mistake, but I wrote it for you, and you have to read it. Just…please, don’t judge until you get to the end.”

            “You wrote it for me?” I asked incredulously.

            “To say things I need to say but can’t bring myself to say out loud.”

            “That sounds…ominous,” I took a deep breath, “was…last night a mistake?”

            “What? No!” Vivian shook her head emphatically. “No, it wasn’t a mistake. But…I’ve made other mistakes, Lavender, and after last night…I have to correct them. And I just hope…I just hope you won’t regret last night once I do. So…please, Lavender, I love you, I really do, and I want you to remember that as you read this, okay?”

            I reached out and gently took the papers. “Okay,” I said simply, then added, “I love you too, and nothing that’s in these pages is going to change that.”

            Vivian smiled weakly, “we’ll see.”

            “Should I read it in private?”

            “No,” Vivian said, “do it here. I…want to see how you react in the moment.”

            “Okay,” nervously, I looked down at the pages in my hand, and started reading.

            The story was about a professor, a doctoral advisor, who had invited their advisee to their home for dinner. She did it against it her best judgement; she knew it was a mistake, but she was so…enraptured with the young student. She was nervous that night, so she drank, and encouraged her student to do the same to cover for how nervous she was. And maybe, just maybe, if she was being honest with herself, because she was hoping someone would get drunk enough to make the first move. But then she awoke the next morning and lay in bed racked with guilt for how she had acted. Slowly, she peeled herself out of bed and made her way to the guest room, intending to the tell the girl, her student, that she was sorry, and that perhaps this had all been a mistake. But then…then she found her in a wet bed. She immediately went to comfort the girl, twisted up as she was between feeling guilty for putting the girl in this predicament and her…secret desires. The professor, you see, had always wanted a little girl of her own—not in a maternal way, but in a kinky way.

            The professor fought with herself after that day: she wanted her student more than ever but she still knew it was wrong. Not to mention, she was racked with guilt for how her student’s bedwetting, something that must be so humiliating and shameful for her, was something so arousing to her. But, she reasoned with herself, she could get a small slice of her desires fulfilled just by being with a girl she was already enamored with and being kind and supportive about her condition—was that so underhanded?

            I looked up at Vivian.

            “No,” she said, “don’t say anything, just finish reading, okay?”

            But I shook my head. I knew what was coming next, and I didn’t want to relive that, not as full of emotion as I was. I felt like I was about to burst in a fit of laughter or sobbing, I wasn’t sure which. Besides, I had read everything I needed to know.

            “Lavender,” Vivian said, “please? Read it, for me?”

            I shook my head again and looked up at her, smiling, tears forming in my eyes, “I faked the accidents,” I admitted, “or most of them, not the first one, the first time I wet the bad that is, that was a genuine accident, but after that…the rest of them? I either put myself in a position where I knew I was going to have an accident or outright did it on purpose, all because…because…all I’ve ever wanted was to be someone’s little girl.” I watched Vivian’s face transform with surprise and confusion and understanding and, finally, joy.

            “Will you…be my little girl, Lavender?”

            I nodded, tears rolling down my checks, “yes, of course.”

[BabySofia]

Yay!!! ?

[aldl4811]

Whooooo hooooo!!!!

[Shotgun Diplomat]

Excellent! I am so very glad that things seem to be working out between them (despite the secret that Lavender harbours). Sometimes I guess, playing the long game is the best. Stay the course, and come what may deal with it, whatever it may be. 

[Hugues]

I really like this story! I love it !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[YourFNF]

17 hours ago, Chels in Ribbons said:

I gotta be honest, I don't know what this reactions means XD good, I hope?

Very *shyly blushes and giggles as I sit here with a bunch of Kleenex shoved up one nostril*

 

Finally! Now they've got all the secrets out of the way and said what they want I hope they can actually work on having a good Md/Lg relationship ?

[YourFNF]

....

Also why do I get the feeling that Lavender is soon going to be unpotty trained....

*blushes and giggles*

[ppbenn]

Wonderful, simply wonderful. Thank you for writing and sharing this story here with us readers!

 

Is this the end for Lavender and Vivian. Will the two lovers ride off into the sunset, or will we be able to read more of their adventures and the further humiliations of Lavender? Inquiring minds want to know.

[dyperaby]

[Chels in Ribbons]

On 1/3/2023 at 10:27 AM, ppbenn said:

Is this the end for Lavender and Vivian. Will the two lovers ride off into the sunset, or will we be able to read more of their adventures and the further humiliations of Lavender? Inquiring minds want to know.

Great Question! Which is, in part, answered by some new chapters today! That said, after this update, there will be one more group of chapters that I drop, and that will, sadly, be the end of The Life and Humiliations of Lavender Fairchild, or A Tale of Diapers and Doctorates.

However!

I've already begun work on The Life and Humiliations of Lavender Fairchild Part II, or [Subtitle Pending]! Or it might be called The Life and Further Humiliations of Lavender Fairchild, or [Subtitle Pending], I'm still debating the exact title XD

Either way, it will be more focused on their play--less about life and more about humiliations, so to speak--so you have that to look forward to!

So, basically, you get two new, admittedly short, chapters today, in a couple days you'll get the final few chapters and epilogue, and then this story will be taking a hopefully not too long hiatus and then Lavender and Vivian will return for more adventures.

As always, thank you all for your support and kind words, and I hope you enjoy the next two chapters!

Chapter Twenty-Eight

            I did eventually read the rest of the story; Vivian insisted.

            And so I sat in our temporary shared bed and read the rest of it while Vivian took a post-coital shower.

            The details are just for me but suffice to say that it was an…illuminating read. Not to mention how reading through the history of our relationship from Vivian’s perspective felt almost surreal. While I was busy worrying that my lies were leading Vivian down a rabbit hole of accidents and pull-ups and diaper changes, Vivian had been busy worrying she was pushing a girl struggling with a growing incontinence issue to drastic solutions because of her own desires.

            I couldn’t help but laugh as the professor in the story struggled with her own suspicions that maybe I was more into what was happening than I let on, picking up on little clues I hadn’t realized I had dropped.

            I had finished the story and was re-reading some of my favorite parts when Vivian emerged from the bathroom.

            “So?” She asked, an edge of nervousness in her voice, “what did you think?”

            “From a literary standpoint,” I said teasingly, “it’s not as good as A Restoration of Rainbows, but…I think it might be my favorite thing you’ve ever written.”

            Vivian smiled and climbed into bed next to me, still naked from the shower. “And I wrote it all for you,” she said, “no one else will ever get to read it.”

            I smiled affectionately at her. Gods, I loved this woman. “I wondered, sometimes, if maybe…you were into it too…”

            Vivian laughed, “I guess we should have just been honest with each other from the beginning, huh?”

            “Yeah,” I agreed with a laugh, “but…I think it makes for a pretty good story.”

            Vivian leaned over, cupped my check with her hand, and kissed me softly, tenderly. “I love you, my little Lavender.”

            “I love you too, Miss Vivian.”

            “Now,” she said with a mischievous grin as she got out of bed, “I think it’s time I got my little girl in a diaper, don’t you think?”

            I smiled and nodded, “I’d like that, Miss Vivian.”

            And we lived happily ever after.

 

Chapter Twenty-Nine

            Of course, that’s not the end of the story.

            The rest of our vacation was a whirlwind of all the conversations we should have been having all along but were too afraid to have. Not to mention a lot of kinky sex; but I’ll save those stories for another time. Suffice to say, I didn’t wear panties for the rest of the vacation, we even had to order more diapers—Vivian even paid a premium for overnight shipping to make sure we wouldn’t run out.

            When the week was over, Vivian took me back to my apartment, where I showed her everything—all my pacifiers, my sippy cups, my onesies, everything. And she cooed over how cute I would look in everything I showed her. When we left the apartment, we brought the chest of secrets with us. We soon arrived at Vivian’s house, where there were multiple packages waiting at the front door.

            “I had to do a lot of shopping to get ready to have my little girl spend the summer with me,” Vivian explained as we carried the boxes inside.

            And so I settled into to stay with Vivian for the summer. We knew we couldn’t continue to live together once the semester started, it was too risky, but for that summer, we could do whatever we wanted. So, we did, and I spent the summer as Vivian’s little girl. Sure, I also got some work done on my dissertation, but I did it with a thick diaper wrapped around my waist and a pacifier in my mouth. Sure, it felt a little weird writing my dissertation in such a state, but…the duality of man and all that.

            All in all, I was perhaps the happiest I had ever been over those few months. Everything was blissful and perfect…and then the new semester was almost upon us. Moving all of my stuff back to my apartment—minus a stash of little stuff to keep at Vivian’s house for our Friday nights together—was bittersweet, but we knew it had to be done. And when it was, we both sat down in my living room with boxes of Chinese take out for our last meal together at my apartment.

            Elyse wasn’t supposed to be home for another two days, so imagine my surprise when the front door opened halfway through dinner.

            My chopsticks clattered to the floor as Vivian and I looked up at Elyse.

            “So,” she spoke into the uncomfortable silence, “this explains where you’ve been.”

            “W-what do you mean?” I stammered out. “We were just…Vivian and I were discussing my dissertation and—”

            “Oh, stop it,” Elyse interrupted me, “I’ve been home for a week, Lavender, where have you been? You think I wouldn’t notice half your stuff was missing from the apartment?”

            “You…what? No, you weren’t supposed to come home for another couple of days!” I said, as if that would change anything.

            “You got the dates wrong,” Elyse replied simply. “So, what, you two have been living together over the summer?” She asked accusatorily.

            “Elyse,” Vivian spoke up, “I assure you, it’s nothing quite so inappropriate as that,” she lied.

            “I think you should probably leave, Professor Devereux,” Elyse said flatly.

            Silence stretched out in our little apartment. Vivian looked over at me, but I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t want her to go, but maybe it was for the best right that second. She set her chopsticks down and gathered up her stuff without a word. “I’ll talk to you later, Lavender,” she said as she approached the front door, walking past Elyse to do it. I nodded and gave her a look that I hoped conveyed how sorry I was.

            “Elyse, I—”

            “Don’t,” she interrupted me again, “I don’t want to hear whatever lies or excuses you’re going to give to me. You’ve been living with your advisor, Lavender, do you know how bad that is? Do you know what’s going to happen if anyone else finds out?”

            “Are you…going to turn us in?”

            “Maybe I should,” Elyse said, and it sent a dagger of ice through my heart. “But…” the word lingered in the air as Elyse walked into the living room and flopped down on the opposite side of the couch from me, “but maybe not.”

            “Please don’t,” I said quietly.

            “You’ve worked so hard to get where you are right now, Lavender, in this program, with your fellowship. Is Vivian really worth risking all of that? Because if anyone finds out that you’ve been sleeping with your professor, you might.”

            I fidgeted with my hands without looking up at Elyse.

            Elyse sighed deeply, “maybe they won’t,” she admitted, “I don’t really know what they’ll do, but one of you will have to take the fall for it. At least one of you.”

            “I…love her,” I said weakly.

            “Enough to risk everything?”

            “I think so…I don’t know…”

            Elyse shook her head and sighed again, “then maybe you should turn yourself in.” She stood up and started walking towards her bedroom, “Maybe if you do, they’ll be lenient.” And then she left me to sit alone with my thoughts, and I was deep in them.

            I barely slept that night; my anxiety and churning thoughts kept me awake. I also didn’t hear from Vivian that night, which only worsened my anxiety. Instead of sleeping, I lay awake in bed staring at the ceiling and imagining all the horrible ways this conundrum could end. I didn’t want to break things off with Vivian—I could never bring myself to do that—but I was so proud of my educational career and knew I also could never blow my chance at getting my doctorate, especially not when I was so close. Was Elyse right? Should I turn us in? They’d probably make me stop dating Vivian, but that wasn’t an option. But if they somehow found out, it would probably be even worse. I racked my brain all night trying to figure a way out of this mess.

            But as morning came, I was no closer to knowing where to go from here.

            And then my phone went off.

            “Hello?” I didn’t recognize the number.

            “Ms. Fairchild?”

            “Speaking.”

            “Good morning, Ms. Fairchild,” the voice on the other end spoke formally, “this is Dr. Delores Abernathy calling.”

            Dr. Abernathy—the director of my program.

            “Yes,” I replied, my heart beating in my throat, “how can I help you, Dr. Abernathy?”

            “I know it’s short notice, but I was hoping you’d be able to come by my office this afternoon, we have a…delicate but important matter to discuss.”

            “Sure, I can do that,” I replied, then took a deep breath. “May I…may I ask what this is about?”

            “It’s about your relationship with Professor Devereux.”

            My stomach fell through the floor.

[kerry]

I'm WAY behind at the moment—just got to the lake house—but I have a great feeling about what kind of stories Vivian posts to what kind of forums...

Of course, if I'm wrong, everyone now knows that.

C'est la vie.

[BabySofia]

University rules may run a little differently, but they definitely have an issue... Hope it can work out for them still!

[BabySerenity]

B-b-but sh-she’s my Mm-mommy!! Yeah, that’ll carry over with the dean really well!! Lol

[ppbenn]

Well shit! I feel that on some level this had to happen, there is an old adage I once heard, and while it's morose I feel it bodes true in this fictional story as well. "three people can keep a secret, but only if two of them are dead." 

As I said it is morbid, and I read it years ago in a thriller novel. 

 

I am curious to see how this plays out for Lavender and Vivian, I hope for nothing but the best for them. I guess time will tell.

 

23 hours ago, Chels in Ribbons said:

but…the duality of man and all that.

This resonated with me. I feel there is a dichotomy in most of us, (the yin/yang.) I feel the same way with my age play and diaper wearing. Presumably most people would look at me and not think that I like to wear diapers and be babied, but little do they know, lol!

 

Great chapter(s) I look forward to reading more and I am also glad to hear that there will be further humiliations to read about.

[Guilend]

I am betting that Vivian turned herself in. 

[YourFNF]

And the Tower falls....

On 1/6/2023 at 2:37 PM, Guilend said:

I am betting that Vivian turned herself in. 

That would be my guess as well....

 

It really sucks because while yes it could be considered a favoritism issue I don't think either didn't anything particularly wrong ethically.

[Guilend]

3 minutes ago, YourFNF said:

It really sucks because while yes it could be considered a favoritism issue I don't think either didn't anything particularly wrong ethically.

Ethically what they did was wrong because of the power imbalance within the workplace. Viv has power and authority over her and so it’s ethically wrong. However, I don’t believe it shouldn’t be dealt with harshly. While I’m some cases it can be bad (the one with power forcing themselves on the other even unintentionally or not), I think it should be dealt with case by case and not a blanket rule. I do not believe in ever having a blanket rule for anything. 

[Chels in Ribbons]

I love that y'all are debating the ethics of the relationship regarding the professional power dynamic between these two XD I won't offer much in either direction, but I can tell you from experience that the relationship between a doctoral student and their advisor is much closer to that of colleagues than a traditional student/professor relationship--hell, I once made weed brownies while on a video call with my advisor, and yes, they knew exactly what I was doing. Oftentimes, your advisor isn't even an expert on your dissertation topic, but rather just an expert in a related field or in a school of theory that's critical to your dissertation. So it's definitely a very murky topic.

But, of course, ultimately our judgements do not matter as the fate of our protagonist is in the hands of Dr. Delores Abernathy. So, with that, I present to you the conclusion:

Chapter Thirty

            I wrung my hands nervously as I sat outside the director’s office, waiting for her to call me in.

            Who told?

            I knew it wasn’t Elyse. Or if it was, she was a much better liar than I would have ever given her credit for. Which is to say, I accused her, in very strong words, and she swore it wasn’t her. I don’t know why, she was the prime and only suspect, but I believed her. There had been a sincerity to her denial that I couldn’t ignore.

            So, who was it?

            Someone must have seen us. Another professor maybe, or another student. They must have seen us out together sometime this summer. We hadn’t been careful enough.

            But that means they probably don’t know for certain; we can deny everything.

            That was the plan. My relationship with Viv—I mean, Professor Devereux was strictly professional. Not a hint of impropriety.

            I had tried to call Vivian after I got off the phone with Dr. Abernathy, but she hadn’t answered. And she hadn’t answered any of my texts since then either.

            I was just sending another one, updating Vivian that I was about to talk to Dr. Abernathy and assuring her I would deny everything, when the door opened.

            “Ms. Fairchild? Come on in, please.”

            I stood up and followed Dr. Abernathy into her office. Dr. Abernathy was a short and round woman and frumpy looking in that quintessential eccentric professor kind of way. But she had a warm smile and kind eyes beneath her horn-rimmed glasses. Her office was cluttered with such a random assortment of knick-knacks that seemed a perfect match for her.

            “Please,” she said as she gestured to a seat in front of her desk, “have a seat.” Then she made her way around her desk and plopped down in her own chair.

            I took a seat but said nothing.

            “Well,” she began after spending a moment getting situated behind her desk, “I’m sorry we’re starting the semester off on such a…well, perhaps awkward is the best word, starting off with an awkward situation. But…” she raised her hands palm upwards, but didn’t finish the sentiment.

            Deny everything.

            “I’m not sure what situation you mean, Dr. Abernathy,” I said flatly.

            She pursed her lips slightly and looked at me, taking my measure. “Lavender,” she said finally, “I’m sure your instinct here is to protect yourself and perhaps even Professor Devereux, but…” she sighed and spread her upturned palms again, “I’m afraid the time for that is past. I’m well aware of the nature of your and Professor Devereux’s relationship.”

            I bit my lip.

            She seems…pretty sure…

            “At this point,” Dr. Abernathy continued when I didn’t respond, “denying the relationship is just going to make things…complicated.”

            I nodded, maybe she was right, I guess it depended on how much she actually knew.

            Maybe she’s bluffing; she’s trying to get you to admit it.

            “What…what happens next?” I asked neutrally, neither confirming nor denying.

            Dr. Abernathy chewed the inside of her cheek and looked at me from across her desk for a long, awkward moment. “I suppose, Lavender, that depends on you. I already have Professor Devereux’s account of things—”

            “You’ve already spoken with her?” I interrupted.

            Dr. Abernathy nodded, “Yes, of course, she’s already told me everything.”

            Everything?

            “Everything?”

            “Unless there’s something you’d like to add to or correct about her account of things.”

            “What’s…what’s her account of things?”

            “I’m more interested in your account of things, Ms. Fairchild.”

            This made things more complicated. What did they have on us that Vivian told them everything? And what, exactly, does everything entail?

            “Let’s try it this way,” Dr. Abernathy said, “what is the nature of your relationship with Professor Devereux?”

            “Professional,” I said immediately, then added, “…and romantic, I suppose,” I was beginning to understand that denial was not a viable strategy here, but maybe, just maybe, I could mitigate the damage.

            “Sexual?” Dr. Abernathy prompted.

            “Yes.”

            “And when did this relationship begin?”

            “Towards the end of the Spring Semester.”

            “Mhm,” Dr. Abernathy had taken out a notebook and was taking quick notes, “and…who instigated the relationship and under what terms?”

            “I…I’m not sure I understand what you mean by ‘under what terms.’”

            Dr. Abernathy set her pen down and looked at me, “Did Professor Devereux…promise you anything in exchange for your…affections?”

            “No,” I said adamantly, “not at all.”

            Dr. Abernathy sighed. “And who was the first to suggest the relationship become more than professional?”

            I thought hard about that before answering honestly, “I’m…not sure…”

            “So, at no time did Professor Devereux tell you that she would fail you if you didn’t sleep with her? At no point did she suggest that you would have to sleep with her to receive your doctorate from this program?”

            “No!” Anger was boiling in me, who the fuck had told Dr. Abernathy any of this? “None of that happened!”

            “Okay,” Dr. Abernathy said, “no need to get upset, Ms. Fairchild, I’m on your side here.”

            Your side? What does that mean?

            “Dr. Abernathy,” I said, feeling frustrated and exasperated, “I don’t know who told you about Professor Devereux’s and mine relationship, but that isn’t how it happened at all. I know what we did was wrong, but…it wasn’t anything like that, okay? Vivian—I mean, Professor Devereux has done nothing but push me to produce better work, to be the best student and scholar I can be, and she definitely didn’t do anything unethical!”

            My miniature outburst lingered in the quiet of the room as Dr. Abernathy stared at me from across her desk. Finally, she sighed and closed the notebook she had been taking notes in. “Lavender, I like you, I think you’re a very bright young woman who has a promising future in and beyond this program. So, with that in mind, I’m going to level with you perhaps more than I should. You’ve both admitted there was impropriety in the relationship between you and Professor Devereux, and I am now left in the position of needing to determine how improper and who is at fault. Now, Professor Devereux has told me this is how it happened—”

            Vivian told her? Vivian told her she exchanged my grades for sexual favors? Is that what she’s saying?

            “Dr. Abernathy,” I interrupted her again, having completely lost track of what she had been saying, “who…who told you about our relationship in the first place?”

            Dr. Abernathy sucked her teeth and looked contemplative, then nodded, “Professor Devereux did; she said she wanted to come clean before things got out on their own so she could make sure the narrative didn’t get twisted.”

            Vivian told her? Why though?

            My chest felt tight, and I couldn’t take a full breath.

            “Vivian…told you?”

            Dr. Abernathy nodded sympathetically. “Lavender,” she said softly, clearly picking up on the panic that was building inside of me, “this interview can wait, I can see how emotional you are, I understand this is a delicate matter. Get your head on straight, and we can talk about this again tomorrow maybe, okay?”

            I shook my head, “no, I want to talk about it now.”

            “Okay, so tell me what happened.”

            I shook my head again, “what happens now? You said…you said Vivian told you everything, so what happens now?”

            Dr. Abernathy sighed, “well, ordinarily, there would be an investigation to determine the exact nature and extent of the impropriety. Professor Devereux has tenure…had tenure…so that makes—”

            “Wait,” I interrupted for the third time, “had tenure? What happened? Are you…firing Vivian?”

            “Professor Devereux…resigned.”

            That hit me in the gut like a freight train.

            “She resigned?”

            Dr. Abernathy nodded, “She took full blame for everything and resigned. She seemed…invested in making sure there was no investigation, if I’m being honest. Wanted everything done and over with and out in the open and accepted that resigning was the only way that could happen.”

            “I…have to go, Dr. Abernathy,” I had to talk to Vivian. “Can we do this tomorrow?”

            Dr. Abernathy studied my face for a moment before nodding, “Lavender, off the record? I don’t know exactly what happened between you two, but it seems like you’re both trying to protect the other one, and it’s only going to hurt both of you. Maybe…and if anyone asks, I actually recommended you do the opposite…but, maybe you should talk to Vivian and get your stories straight.”

            I nodded and stood up without another word, but stopped at the door and looked back, “what will happen to me?”

            “To you?” Dr. Abernathy repeated. “I guess it depends. If Professor Devereux did, in fact, promise you better grades in exchange for…whatever, then you’re the victim here. You’ll have to begin working with a new advisor who will go over the work Professor Devereux graded to make sure it’s up to the standards of the program; in the event that it doesn’t, we’ll give you a chance to bring it up to our standards. And if it does meet our standards, then that will be it, and you can just continue in the program as if nothing happened.”

            “And…my fellowship?”

            “Unaffected,” she said.

            I nodded, “thank you, Dr. Abernathy,” and left.

Chapter Thirty-One

            “Lavender,” Vivian said with quiet surprise as I walked into the parlor, where I found her sitting with a book in her hands. “What…what are you doing here?”

            “What the fuck, Vivian?” I was trying not to shout, “Why did you tell Dr. Abernathy about us? Why did you tell her you coerced me into things by using my grades as leverage? Why did you fucking do it, Vivian?”

            Vivian gave me a level look throughout my little tirade, “I had to.”

            “Bullshit, you did.”

            “Elyse was going to tell.”

            “She wasn’t! She promised me she wouldn’t!”

            “Then it would have been someone else eventually! It was just a matter of time, Lavender, someone was going to find out. I just…wanted to protect you from it the best I could.”

            “I didn’t want to be protected,” I shot back, “I wanted you by my side!”

            Vivian lowered her gaze, “Lavender…”

            “You didn’t even talk to me before you did it, Vivian,” I was pacing angrily back and forth, “you didn’t talk to me, you didn’t warn me, you ignored me all morning, you…you…fuck!”

            “Lavender, I was…I was trying to protect us, please understand.”

            “We didn’t need to be protected! We could have dealt with this when and if it ever became a problem, but no, you just had to run off and out us! Do you…do you even want to be with me anymore?”

            Vivian’s head snapped up, panic in her eyes, “Lavender, yes, yes, of course I do, please don’t think for a second that I don’t want that, that’s why I did this, so we could be together!”

            “You have a funny way of showing it, Vivian,” I said sourly.

            “Lavender,” Vivian got up off the couch and swiftly closed the distance between us, taking my hands in hers, “Lavender, please, listen. I got scared, okay? Elyse catching us like that…I just got scared. And maybe she wasn’t going to tell, but it was inevitable that someone was going to find out. And what then? What if Elyse had walked in on something more incriminating than us eating Chinese together? What if Elyse had walked it while I was changing your diaper on the floor, huh? What would happen if someone else turned us in and there was an investigation into our relationship? What would they find? It could ruin my reputation, so much more than this will, and, more importantly, it could ruin yours before you really have a chance to establish one. Please, Lavender, I’m sorry I did this without consulting you, but I just wanted to protect you, so I lied, I made sure the blame was going to fall squarely on me. Please, tell me you understand.”

            I looked at Vivian, her words had melted my anger away and left me feeling…hollow, uncertain. “You should have talked to me first,” I said weakly.

            “Yes,” she agreed with a nod of her head, “I should have, I’m sorry I didn’t, please forgive me?”

            My shoulders slumped, and I nodded; how could I not forgive her? “Forgive me for bursting in here?”

            Vivian smiled and cupped my cheek, “of course, darling, of course.”

            I hugged Vivian, resting my head on her shoulder. “Thank you,” I said softly, “for protecting me.” I hadn’t asked her to protect me, and I hated that she had needed to, but I couldn’t deny that I was thankful.

            “Of course, darling, I wouldn’t very well deserve to be called Miss Vivian if I couldn’t protect my little girl, right?”

            I smiled, I still wasn’t happy with what Vivian had done, but I understood why she had done it, and it did mean we were now free to be together. “I love you, Miss Vivian.”

            “And I love you, my little Lavender.”

            The next day, I told Elyse I was moving out for good.

Epilogue

            We were laughing as we both stumbled through the front door, each of us mutually supporting the other one. We were, to put it simply, not sober.

            “Welcome home, Dr. Fairchild,” Vivian giggled as she gestured to the house.

            “Why, thank you, Dr. Devereux,” I responded with faux-seriousness before breaking down into giggles.

            And then Vivian was staring warmly into my face, her hands holding me by the front of my graduation robes. “I’m so proud of you, my little Lavender.”

            I blushed deeply, “I couldn’t have done it without you, without your support and encouragement.”

            “Bullshit,” Vivian said with a giggle, “come here, okay?” She grabbed me by the wrist and dragged me farther into the house to the full-length mirror that hung in our front hall. She placed her hands on my shoulders and turned me so that I was facing the mirror with Vivian looking over my shoulder.

            We looked gorgeous together. Vivian in a tight black dress with sheer tights and heels; me in my fancy doctoral regalia and silly little hat.

            “Look at you,” her expression was full of pride and admiration, “you’re a doctor now, and you did that all yourself, because you’re brilliant. You got your doctorate because you deserved it; I was just honored enough to get to be along for the ride. But this accomplishment? It’s all you, darling.”

            “Thank you,” I blushed under her praise. It had been a long, hard road, and whatever Vivian said, she had done more than just been along for the ride—she had been there to talk my ideas through, to give me confidence when mine began to flag, to make me coffee at eleven in the evening so I could keep working on my dissertation. It was my accomplishment, I was so proud of myself, and maybe I could have done it without Vivian, but I couldn’t have been happier that she had held my hand through it. “Thank you,” I said again, this time adding, “Miss Vivian.”

            Vivian smiled mischievously and began unzipping my robe, exposing the black sundress I had on underneath. “You know what I kept thinking while I was watching you up on that stage?”

            “What’s that?”

            “I kept thinking,” Vivian’s hand crept downward, clutching the hem of my dress and slowly raising it, “how mature and professional you looked up there, and how you looked so cute playing dress-up and pretending to be a big girl in front of everyone.” She pulled the hem of my dress up to my waist, showing off the quite obviously soaked diaper underneath my fishnets. Vivian reached around with her other hand and grabbed the crotch of my diaper, squishing it against my skin. “I kept thinking how no one knew you were wearing a wet diaper the whole time.”

            I bit my lip and leaned back in Vivian, “I wasn’t wet during the ceremony,” I whined…and lied.

            “So, I didn’t have to change you in the family restroom afterwards?” I watched as my face turned bright red; Vivian just laughed. “Can you believe it?” She said more softly, resting her chin on my shoulder, “Dr. Lavender Fairchild, PhD, but still can’t be potty trained.”

            “Don’t you know?” I said as I turned away from the mirror to face Vivian, “my PhD stands for ‘pees her diapers.””

            Vivian laughed, then slipped her finger into my diaper, “you certainly do, you’re soaked.” She turned me towards the stairs and swatted my butt. “Come on, my little Lavender, let’s get you changed, okay?”

            “Yes, Miss Vivian.”

            And we lived happily ever after.

[BabySofia]

Good ending! A little abrupt in some ways, but it works. Thanks for the tale!

[aldl4811]

Thank you for this work, it was fantastic.

[thedman]

"Pees Her Diapers"  thank you for that,it was just enough to soften the blow of the fact that thus story is done.

Thank you for a very engaging story, I thoroughly enjoyed it

[BabySerenity]

Well at least they are together!! Majorly abrupt ending but the phd comment was to die for!! It’s a shame it’s over because the story was well worth reading!!

[YourFNF]

Seconding on sweet ending but definitely abrupt... I'm wondering how they both came out okay after that? Especially when Vivian damned herself so thoroughly