Cinnamon, Gunpowder, and Diapers (Ch.3 up 5/3/2023)

[AWetterWorld]

Cinnamon, Gunpowder, and Diapers

Sam did not like bullets. Guns were another matter. Shooting was an art form, a skill of reflexes, coordination, situational awareness, and good ol’ fashioned talent. He, Sam Jack, was an artist. He probably took better care of his gun than he would have his wife - not that he had a list of standing offers in that department. There was no time for such things. The district office’ gun range was where he spent his off hours, and his job at the FBI left him with little enough of those. He was the best, and was constantly assigned the hard jobs – when he didn’t outright request them. His home did not even have a kitchen; there was no room after the remodel. The at-home gun range had required too much space, but of course it was important to have somewhere to practice on those nights when his insomnia kicked up. (The permitting had been a bit tricky on that one; the downstairs neighbors kept making a fuss. Clearly they did not appreciate the obvious truth: the only proper reason to own your own condo was to add a few… reasonable customizations.)

But enough about that. Sam’s day was already in progress, and it was not going well. His present situation involved far too many of the aforementioned bullets. Specifically, the ones which had shattered his back windshield, left mirror, right mirror, and most frustratingly: his driver-side taillight. He had just gotten that fixed! Then there was the one which had flown by his left ear, so close that he could feel the breeze as it whizzed by.

He was getting plenty of good shots in himself, mostly due to having trained to shoot with his left hand. These kinds of skills were important; one never knew when one might need the right hand free in order to steer the car the wrong way down a busy freeway, just as Sam was doing now. In that sense it was turning out to be a fairly typical car chase; he simply liked it better when he was the one doing the chasing.

It had all started when he had been tasked by his superiors to guard an attractive young woman by the name of Paige, who presently sat in the passenger seat beside him. He had no idea who was trying to kill her or why; that was all above his pay grade. He simply needed to keep her alive.

“Keep your head down, please,” he instructed upon noticing that she was sitting up quite rigidly in her seat. Her head was now a perfect target for the shooter in the car behind them.

“What?” she shouted back.

“I said,” he repeated more loudly, reaching over his shoulder to fire a couple more rounds, “to keep your head down!” He had not even heard himself over the fresh ringing in his ears, and anyway he needed to swerve just then to avoid a head-on collision.

He tried making hand gestures, but then glanced back over to see Paige still sitting up. Her dark hair was mussed from the wind blowing through the broken windows. (They didn’t bother Sam as much as the tail light; he had never gotten around to fixing the air conditioner anyway.) Her back was still unnaturally rigid, and her round face held a look that said ‘not good’ as plainly as any he had ever seen. Her eyes were round as saucers, and her mouth was open in an almost perfect ‘o’. Her gaze frequently darted to his face and then away again, but she said nothing. Both hands were pressed against her slim waist.

He immediately feared the worst. “Where is it?” he shouted.

“Where’s what?” she yelled back.

“The bullet wound! You need to keep pressure on it!”

“I’ve been shot?!” she demanded with sudden horror, her voice turning into what was almost a shriek.

He glanced at her, feeling his own forehead bunch up in confusion. “I don’t know! I thought… Why are you holding your stomach like that?”

She looked down and back up, then did a strange almost-flinch as if the answer would get her in trouble. Her eyebrows arched slightly and she smiled a cute, sheepish smile that showed off her perfect, even teeth, made her look younger than her twenty-six years, and genuinely had no business being in the middle of a gunfight. “I, umm, just peed my diaper,” she replied a moment later.

The sentence so distracted him that he almost got winged by the bullet that took out his rearview mirror. He recovered himself quickly, swerved, and made another left-handed shot out his window, taking out the last headlight of their attackers. “I hope their warranty on that light just expired yesterday,” he thought aloud. “These jerks don’t know how frustrating it can be to –Wait, ‘diaper’?” he said as he spun to face her. Seeing that same sheepish attempt at a smile in return, he turned back to the road and tried to process this. “Will it leak?” he asked.

She shrugged meekly. “I don’t know… If I pee more, maybe.”

He looked at her sternly but said nothing.

She bit her lower lip nervously but said nothing.

“You don’t still need to-” he started.

“I need to pee again,” she said over the top of him.

“Well, hold it!” he demanded in horror. “That’s brand new upholstery on that seat and-”

“I’m trying!”

The last window on the vehicle shattered from another bullet. “Can’t you… do something about that?” she complained.

“Just hang on,” he said after discarding several acerbic replies he would have rather said, “we’re going to take that exit right there.”

“Exit?” she said with obvious befuddlement. “All I see is an entrance ramp with more headlights coming this way.”

“Yeah, that one.” Without further explanation he swerved the car violently around an oncoming truck and onto the entrance ramp. He had to swerve several more times to avoid the cars that continued to come at them.

Each time they almost collided with another vehicle she flinched and grunted. “Would you stop swerving like that?” she protested at one point. “It’s making it worse!”

He couldn’t take his focus off the road long enough to give her the exasperated retort he desired.

“I can’t… I can’t do this any longer,” she said at one point, in a voice that sounded desperate and tired. Her hands now alternated between grabbing the cloth of her knee-length circle-skirt resting between her legs and twisting, and pressing it up against her groin. “I’m just going to-”

“Hold on!” he pleaded.

She had to close her eyes and concentrate for a few moments before she could speak. “I have a confession,” she said finally. “I’ve been wet for hours. I went at the restaurant, and then again in the subway.“ Her hands moved to the area of her stomach again for emphasis. “But this time it’s going to be… well I only wore my light pull-ups and…” She never finished the sentence but instead went back to wincing and grunting at every bump or turn.

“Well why didn’t you…” He waved his hand around in a vague gesture.

“Why didn’t I do what..?” she shot back tartly, mimicking his hand gesture in obvious mockery. “When did I have a chance to do anything about it? When we were hiding in the closet of that restaurant, running for our lives down the subway, trying to disguise ourselves in the crowd of that big parade…” She continued on like that. She might have had a point too, he grudgingly admitted. It was really hard to find a good break time when people were trying to kill you.

Avoiding oncoming cars was easier now thanks to being off the highway; there were so many more options: yards, public parks, sidewalks… He had to swerve at one point to avoid a jaywalker. He shook his head in disappointment at the man. It was just so obnoxious when people flaunted the law! “Yeah, well okay, I get where you’re going with this. I do.” He sighed theatrically before turning her way -now driving through the city’s large waterfront park using only his peripheral vision. “It’s just that I’ve been busy with the whole SAVING YOUR LIFE thing! Did you notice that? Did you notice that going on at all?!” Satisfied that he had made his own point, he turned his attention back to dodging trees. He nodded with satisfaction as he did so; investing in new, five-year-warranty, all-terrain tires had clearly been a good decision!

“Oof!” she protested as they hit a bump severe enough to nearly knock her head into the car’s roof. “Oh no… No I’m going to…” One more bump, and this time she made a sound that started like a grunt of pain but ended like a long sigh of relief. “Ohhhh, oh, oh gosh I’m… I’m going…“ Her body went slack as she leaned back into the seat in obvious surrender. Several sighs and a few soft exclamations of ‘oh gosh’ followed as she pointedly ignored his gape-mouthed stare.

“What did I tell you?” he complained, deftly avoiding a couple with a stroller on the grass. Why did pedestrians never use the sidewalks?

“I’m sorry,” she said in a tone that sounded much more relieved than apologetic. “I can’t stop… I’m going to leak…”

The car behind them had closed the distance, and he knew from previous chases here (this particular park was conveniently located right off the freeway) that the boat dock was out of sight behind a large hill up ahead. He gunned it, hoping that the car behind them would do so as well, then made a hard, hard left turn right after passing the steep hillside before slamming on the breaks.

Sure enough, the car behind them had floored their own pedal to keep up and did not anticipate the turn. They went sailing right down the boat dock and into the river.

The source of their first problem dealt with, Sam exited the car without a word and quietly walked around to the passenger side. Getting the jammed, mutilated door to open took a considerable effort on his part, but Paige made no attempt to help. She had gathered her skirt up with her hands and held it around her waist to protect it from another, steadily growing body of water: the pool of her pee on the car seat. Her tight, red lips were tilted up on one side and down on the other as if not knowing whether to smile or frown, and her brows were gently tented above her round eyes that tried altogether too hard to look innocent. They were pulling it off too, he had to admit.

Looking further south, he observed the significant bulging of her otherwise form-fitting disposable pull-ups where the overburdened absorbent padding had soaked up everything it could. The garment sported a faux-cloth style exterior that was clearly designed to look like real lingerie, and even went so far as to have little fake ribbons and bows painted around the top. Curious but not wanting to speak just yet, he reached down and pulled the front of the garment away from her waist so that he could see inside. She made no move to stop him. Sure enough, more liquid was still pouring out from her. He let go. As his ears began to recover he realized that he could even hear the low hiss of the woman’s spray as she shamelessly relieved herself in front of him.

Taking a moment to calm himself, he looked over his car and took inventory of things he would need to look at. The windows were all shattered, as were the taillights. All three mirrors were in ruins, and a hubcap or two seemed to have been lost at some point. The engine was smoking ominously, and bullet holes made the whole back end of the car look like a metal sculpture of swiss cheese.

“Great,” he said after a heavy sigh, resting his gaze once more on Paige, “just great… You’ve ruined the upholstery.”

She frowned, and her eyes lit up with a sudden fire. “That’s what you say to me? After all that? After almost getting me killed how many times?” He made at least two attempts to protest but she simply shouted over him each time. “Your car is a pile of scrap metal, and you’re worried about the stupid upholstery??” She rose deliberately from her yellow pool, dripping on the ground a bit as she stood defiantly before him. Her hands were still occupied with holding her skirt high and dry, putting her undergarment on clear display. “No, no, no, Mister!” she barked in a tone that said she was (thankfully) coming to a conclusion. “You owe me a safe place to rest, a good meal, and…” She glanced downward and then back up as if what she said next had just occurred to her. “...And I'll need a new diaper! You may have just made this the worst day of my life, Pal, so you’d better believe that if there’s any chance at all of redemption for you it’s in giving me-”

Once again he had stopped listening. Her full lips were distracting, the way all the smooth, soft features of her round face were arranged perfectly within the frame of her dark, flowing, shoulder-length black hair. The smooth roundness of her breasts and the shapeliness of her body…

She broke off as he suddenly wrapped his thick arms around her and pulled her to him. His lips locked onto hers before she could object, but she made no effort to pull away.

She would tell him later that he tasted of cinnamon. Cinnamon and… what was the other thing she would say? Oh yes, cinnamon and gunpowder. She would say it quite romantically too, and he would smile at the pleasant memory.

The smell of her wet diaper combined with her rosy-fresh perfume in his own nostrils and made an intoxicating scent. He explored her back with his hands and her previously stiff body melted to a warm softness in his arms.

“Sorry,” he said quite honestly after releasing her some moments later, “I don’t know why I did that.” Now it was his turn to stumble over his words. “It’s just that… no one else has caused my heart to flutter the way you have -or done as much damage to my car as you did- and… I guess I don't want this feeling to end.”

“You don’t have to explain,” she assured him. “You loved me from the start; I know – it’s okay. I’m sorry about yelling at you like that, it’s just that-”

“No actually that was kind of a turn-on,” he admitted.

“Pardon? You mean, when I started verbally abusing you for saving my life, that…”

“...turned me on to you even more,” he finished for her. “Yes.”

She scrunched up her face haphazardly in a new expression that he took to be confusion. “I… really?” Her voice grew quiet as she seemed to be thinking out loud. “That doesn’t seem like it makes any sense, but I mean, the heart wants what the heart…” Then, in a louder, more confident voice she finished “Oh whatever, I’ll take it.”

This time she was the one who pulled him close, her smaller frame fitting nicely in his arms. Once again he began moving his hands gently over her hills and valleys. He squeezed her bottom at one point, only to remember too late that it had a soaking wet diaper over it at the moment. Some of her pee escaped, dribbling onto his leg, but clearly neither of them cared.

She moaned softly for a moment, and then squeezed her eyes closed for a heartbeat -as if from exertion- before squishing up her face once again and pulling away just a bit.

“You don’t have to resist it,” he said gently. “Let me ignite your fire-”

“No,” she said in a strained voice, “it’s not that.” She was looking at him now with that sheepish smile he knew all too well. “It’s… I still need to pee some more and… and I think I’m about to poop.”

Before he could respond, several waterlogged men broke the surface of the river near the boat ramp. They had somehow managed to hold onto their guns, and he recognized the model at a glance as one which would fire even after being submerged. He let loose a heavy sigh, but the upside was that at least he was going to get shot at by people who had a respectable taste in guns. A moment later they had indeed recovered their balance and were getting a few shots off.

“Hold that thought,” he instructed before scooping her off her feet with his powerful arms, one under her knees and the other beneath her upper back, causing her head to rest against his shoulder. “I know a safehouse nearby.” He took off running, effortlessly leaping across root and rock despite the added burden of carrying her, and the chase was on once again.

[keith60]

i hope there is more to this story soon 

[AWetterWorld]

13 minutes ago, keith60 said:

i hope there is more to this story soon 

There certainly can be. I wasn't sure if anyone was interested, but now that I know, I'm quite happy for the excuse to get back into some diaper-enhanced, action-movie silliness!

(Honestly, I think we all know that nearly every movie, ever, would be improved by the addition of some diapers.)

[Bonsai]

Not bad at all! Maybe add also a villain (preferably a hot gal) that shares the same sort of plumbing issues and it would be perfect.

[AWetterWorld]

6 hours ago, Bonsai said:

Not bad at all! Maybe add also a villain (preferably a hot gal) that shares the same sort of plumbing issues and it would be perfect.

Loved the suggestion! Our villain enters the scene a bit late in this chapter, but will feature heavily in the future of course.

Cinnamon, Gunpowder, and Diapers

CHAPTER 2

Sam reached the sidewalk, still carrying Paige -soaking wet pullup and all- in his arms. It would be some time before he was out of breath; he had trained well for this contingency. She was fortunate, whether she knew it or not, to be protected by such a consummate profession of law enforcement-

“Sir, Ma’am!” he abruptly shouted, stopping an older couple who were flagrantly disrespecting the law. “I’m sorry, but I am obligated to remind you at this time that the crosswalk is ten meters in that direction.” He pointed helpfully, and managed it without dropping Paige.

“There aren’t even any cars,” protested the baffled man.

“Sir – sir, I’m sorry, but the law is the law and-”

“Are we really doing this now?” Paige protested from where her head rested on his shoulder.

The older woman looked at them both, aghast. “What are you doing with that woman? Are you even law enforcement?”

Oh great, she was one of those. “I can’t reach my badge just now, but you can clearly see my law enforcement vehicle parked right over there on the grass, Ma’am.”

They all turned to look at the smoking wreck, haphazardly crashed as much as parked, as it sat on the ruined grass, a long trail of torn up vegetation behind it that stretched across nearly the entire park.

A gunshot ricocheted off a nearby tree with a low thwack, and the sounds of more shots being fired echoed around them.

“Okay, this is NOT a safe area,” Sam announced, getting himself back on track. “I am going to need you to quickly exit the area for your own safety! At the – no, Ma’am, Sir, at the crosswalk! I’m going to need you to exit the area, using the crosswalk, as fast as you can safely-

“Would you just let them go!” Paige protested.

She was right. Her full diaper had leaked on him once already, and he only dry-cleaned this suit yesterday!

Of course, Paige was in danger as well, and he had to do something about that. Only moments before, they had professed their newfound love for each other. Very important tip: women hate being shot at while on a date. 

Not that this was officially such an occasion, but if he played his cards right perhaps it could still count. He whipped his sidearm from its holster and got off a couple of quick shots. One blasted the gun right out of an assailant’s hand, despite the considerable distance, causing him to double over with a scream of pain, but the second man was able to duck behind a tree in time. Still, it had slowed them down. Now they approached cautiously, using cover.

“Okay, now the safe house is only a little ways away. Just hold tight.” He took off running, ducking low behind cover when it was available and leaping over obstacles, yet barely breaking stride.

After dashing across a busy street, making a couple of turns, and dashing down an alleyway, he finally slowed. He noted her eyes widening in panic, perhaps worried they were trapped, but he told her not to worry. The familiar, half-broken fire escape was just ahead on his left, and he walked her up to the second story window of the safe house while she yelped softly at every creak and groan. Tip number two: women hate fire escapes… or perhaps it was just the rusted metal and broken screws that caused the thing to tip and sway so much. Who could tell? Women were such an enigma to begin with.

In any event they were soon through the open window (it was usually left that way, since it lacked any glass or framing). “We can’t stay here long; the criminals might know of this location. So let’s resupply as quickly as possible. If you need fresh clothes, there are some in the bedroom.”

“Is there a reason we came in through the window?” she asked wearily, glancing around at the cobwebbed corners, dirty walls, and mold spots.

“Oh that. Well,” he admitted, “I’m afraid I got a little behind on the rent.”

“This isn’t a real safe house, is it?”

“It’s better to be off the grid,” he explained patiently. Civilians often failed to understand the nuances of good protection. “The FBI’s safe houses might be compromised.”

She nodded slowly and moved away, conspicuously quiet, while he inspected the kitchen, grabbing any food that was still good and yet small enough to carry in a sack.

“Sam, Dear?”

He smiled, moving out of the kitchen and towards the hallway where he had heard her alluring voice. “I told you we don’t have much time, but-”

Her voice had lowered a notch. “What happened to the bathroom?”

He snapped his fingers. “Oh that’s right, I forgot to mention the toilet is broken. No doubt the landlord will get to it soon, I’m sure she’s aware of the health codes. Just use the sink to clean yourself up.”

“The sink is on the floor,” she stated.

He looked, then nodded, conceding the point. “Hopefully she fixed that small problem with the shower I mentioned…” He peeked further inside the bathroom, then abruptly closed the door. “I may need to have a talk with the landlord. In the meantime, I advise that you… not use that room.”

She sighed heavily and leaned back against the nearest wall, her hands pressed to her abdomen. “I’m… I’m just going to use my diaper again.”

He blanched at the thick, overburdened garment where it peeked out from beneath her skirt (she was holding the hem of the knee-length garment up real high in what seemed like an unconscious, nervous gesture).

He couldn’t believe what she had just said. Did she not realize how hard it was to get stains out of shag carpet? “No, just… wait!”

He raced into the bedroom, trying to remember if he ever got rid of those adult diapers from when his aging mother had lived there. There they were! He grabbed one, inspecting it. Unlike that frilly thing she had worn that clearly tried to masquerade as underwear, this was a full-on disposable diaper with tabs. He hoped she would be reasonable and accept it.

“You know,” she said a minute later, as she rounded the corner by leaning provocatively against the doorframe as she moved, “that was pretty sexy and brave the way you carried me all that way and out of danger…” She placed a hand on his shoulder and he dropped the diaper. “How long did you say we could stay here again?”

Her left hand held a mostly-empty carton of milk, and she took the last dredge of it as he watched with concern. “Miss Paige, please!” He quickly took the carton. “Check the dates first – drinking a product past its date of expiry can have health effects-”

“You’re worried about that when your fridge doesn’t even work?”

That stopped him. Now that he thought about it, the fridge had felt a bit warm when he stuck his hand in there. Did the landlord fix nothing in this place? That was unacceptable; clearly he would have to file a complaint. He hastily deposited the carton in the garbage and returned. “Never mind that. Where were we?”

He leaned in and pressed his lips against her own, savoring the way her body melted into his own in response. She guided him towards the bed, then reached underneath her skirt and pulled her underwear free. Gravity dropped it like a rock, and the soaking thing hit the carpet with a loud thunk. Her skirt followed quietly.

She hastily threw back the top layer of covers, then pulled him down with her. The bed was soft, but he relished her own softness more as he explored her with his hands. Before they really had a chance to get going she stopped at an odd time and sighed, her face squished up in that goofy way she did when… Oh no.

“Your bed is wet,” she said in a conspicuously relaxed voice, “and getting more so. Sorry.”

He leaped to his knees, flung the covers back, and saw a steadily growing dark circle on the white sheet. It expanded outwards from the small fountain between her legs. The blood drained from his face. “Are you mad? This is a ten-year warranty down-padded mattress!” He yanked the top sheet free and recklessly pushed it up between her legs for all he was worth, then dove around the room this way and that as he looked for the clean diaper.

Finally he discovered where it had been kicked underneath the bed and proceeded to hold it urgently before her.

“I’m… kind of already done now,” she said apologetically. When he pulled the sheet away from between her legs he noted that it had done little good; the dark circle underneath her was quite a bit larger.

“But… I’m still going to poop soon,” she added.

“No, wait, I found this.” He waved the diaper around for emphasis.

“Alright, well get the powder from my purse,” she instructed.

His jaw worked soundlessly for a moment. “You… had a purse?”

“You seriously lost my purse?” she demanded, her voice growing caustic.

“I was a little busy saving your life!” he protested. “I’m sorry, alright…”

“You did not lose my purse!” she protested right back. “My favorite necklace was in that purse – hand-me-down from my great, great, great grandmother and…”

For a full minute the two argued over the top of each other like that, before there was a sharp crack and a sudden cloud of dust in the air. He looked around, senses hyper-alert. Several more bullets punched their way through the outer wall and made little clouds of plaster.

“Off the grid, huh?” she said dryly.

Then he noticed that wasn’t the outer wall at all, but the one that was against the hallway.

“Mr. Boomfer!” came a sharp, female voice from the other side of the wall. “I can hear you in there!”

“That’s not your attackers,” Sam explained. “That’s the landlord.”

The shrill but muffled voice continued, “You lost the only key to this door! It will cost me eighty dollars to have the lock replaced, and you already owe me eighteen hundred in rent! You better come out… or I’m just gonna keep shooting!”

“Check in the bathroom!” Paige instructed with sudden focus. “Don’t you have some body powder or something?”

“Is that important?” he protested.

“I am not going to get a rash down there, Pal, just because you can’t be bothered to pay your landlord!”

He did as instructed while a couple more bullets penetrated the walls, returning shortly with a glass jar of scented body powder. He tried to hand it to her, but she ignored the gesture. “Look,” she complained, “my hands are shaking – some of us aren’t used to being constantly shot at! I don’t want to die during a bungled diaper change. Can't you just... help me?”

“Miss Paige, I’ve never-” A bullet whizzed past his head. “Okay fine!” He fumbled while unfolding the diaper, finding the garment frustratingly more awkward to manipulate compared to his gun. He was going to have to make certain the field manual was updated to handle situations like this…

“You, umm, you really don’t know how to do this, do you?” She sighed, lifted her bottom, and pointed. He slid the diaper underneath her, and next she pointed to the powder. Her face had grown a bit red now, and he realized that his clumsiness was embarrassing them both. He scooped some of it up and tossed it uncertainly around the vicinity of her lady parts, but when he went back for another scoop his movements were too fast and a large cloud of powder engulfed his face. He coughed, his vision blurred.

“Here, just… let me,” she said as she grabbed the jar. “Just go back to shooting something.”

He shouted warnings to the unhinged property owner outside, but shook his head in sympathy. She was right to worry about the cost of that lock, but clearly didn’t realize that holes in plaster walls added up too. “Someone calls in with a few noise complaints,” he cautioned her, “and your property insurer is going to jack your rates right up, trust me!”

A few more shots indicated her level of concern, but soon they stopped. He could hear her reloading.

His sharp training allowed him to keep an eye on the door while also dutifully watching Paige as she smoothed the powder over herself and lifted the thick front of the diaper up against her. She took the tapes, one at a time, and carefully positioned them to keep the diaper snug around her waist, then changed her mind and repositioned them to get a better fit…

What had he been watching? Oh yes, the door! “We really need to get moving!” he urged, noting the last few metallic clicks that indicated the landlord was about ready to unload on them again.

She stood and almost slipped her skirt back on, but then frowned. “Do you have a dry one? The diaper leaked on it.”

He waved at the closet. “Maybe Ma left some clothes here?” As she moved about the room wearing only the thick diaper down below, he once again had to admire the woman’s perfectly-curved body.

No more shots rang out, but there was a sound of someone trying to jimmy the front door lock. Since he had mastered the art himself, of course, he could tell that they had some skill just by listening. “Out of time!”

Her search for clothes became frantic but she didn't stop. He had to actually pull her away, and she grabbed the partial bag of diapers as he did so.

“How many of those are you really going to need?” he wondered aloud.

“I don’t know.” Her voice started out casual as she pulled free of him and jogged towards the kitchen, but it quickly escalated. “How long are crazy psychos going to keep shooting at me while you drag me around to places with no bathrooms?!”

He shrugged. Could be she had a point. He moved past her and climbed out the window. How long had his longest chase been? Couldn’t have been more than a couple of months, and of course a few weeks of that had been spent quite calmly waiting out a blizzard in that primitive mountain cabin… So really, she was worried about nothing.

He realized she hadn’t followed, and looked back to find her bent sideways and holding her open mouth under the running kitchen faucet. He fidgeted, then cleared his throat, but she just kept drinking. “Are you ill?”

Finally, she pulled away. “It’s that milk,” she moaned. “I think you were right about it, but I was just so hungry... Oh gosh… Okay, I think I’m going to be alright. Just let me grab my skirt-”

He yanked her away again when he heard the front door open.

“Wait, but we’re going to be out in public!” she complained, glancing pointedly at her bare legs and uncovered diaper.

Another important tip: women are very picky about what they wear on a date, he noted to himself.

“Out of time,” he repeated. Also, he really wanted the whole ‘date’ thing to be official. Maybe he should find some time when they weren’t getting shot at and just ask her about it.

She followed along behind him with obvious reluctance as he led her back down the fire escape and into the alley. “Now I just need to requisition a vehicle…”

They rounded the corner and he made a beeline for a couple who were just getting in their honda civic. He pulled the woman -who had been half way inside- back out again and grabbed the keys from her hand. “FBI business, Ma’am; this is an emergency.”

He watched Paige sneak in the open passenger door, cutting off the husband. “Sorry,” she offered before shutting the door, “he’s crazy. But we really do need the car!”

A thick woman in equally thick woolen plaid rounded the corner. She had a gun in her hand, and was somewhat out of breath. “Hey! You better stop, Boomfer!” she yelled as he punched the gas.

For a full minute there was no sound but the engine and the honking of other cars as Sam necessarily ignored a few bothersome traffic laws. One idiot cussed him out. Civilians simply did not understand his responsibility he had to keep his charges safe. Who knew why he had been called upon for this honor? Perhaps Paige was some witness in a high profile criminal case. Those were the kind of situations he worked, the kind that were critical to the very functioning of a healthy, safe society, and-

“For heaven’s sake, Ma’am,” he yelled through his window at an old woman with groceries, who had almost gotten cleaned off the pavement, “look both ways before crossing!” He shook his head at Paige, expecting her to share in his scorn, but she only stared at him with eyes wide as saucers.

She held her stomach with both hands for a moment, wincing in obvious discomfort. “Since we’re not being shot at… do you think you could drive just a bit slower?”

He made a hard left, and she was thrown against the door to her right with a grunt.

“Two things,” he informed her. “First, I’m going to need you to buckle your seatbelt – traffic laws aren’t just for fun!

“And second, I’m afraid I can’t slow down.”

“Why? Because you were raised on amphetamines from the womb?”

The back window shattered and she shrieked.

He looked over his shoulder and confirmed what he already knew: his landlord was following them one lane over while firing her gun out the window. In the other lane, directly behind them, two all-too-familiar thugs were driving a prius. One of them had his right hand wrapped and was steering with his left, the other was already trying to lean out the passenger window and take aim. “There’s a bad case of road rage behind us at the moment.”

Next to him, Paige looked to be in some sort of wide-eyed trance. “This is not happening again. This is not happening again. This is not happening again…”

He ignored it and continued driving. He had to go over a couple of poorly-placed curbs and she almost doubled over, wincing in pain as she held her stomach. She recovered, and promptly gripped the seatbelt with both hands – although she pointedly avoided wrapping it across her stomach and snapping it closed. “You know what? I just want to know one thing before I die… Your last name is ‘Boomfer’?”

“Just a fake alias I used for the safehouse. My actual last name is Bellagamba.”

“Oh my gosh, no, no… No…”

He felt his posture stiffen. “It’s not that bad,” he said indignantly. “It’s italian as a matter of fact, and quite beautiful in its meaning-”

“Not that. I’m…” She held a breath, squeezed her eyes shut, blew it out, and then visibly relaxed. Her legs drifted apart, and it suddenly became a struggle for him to keep his attention on the road as the crotch of her diaper began to turn yellow and expand.

“Miss… Miss, please, it is the responsibility of every agent to return a vehicle in a reasonable and fair condition.”

Her face bunched up for a moment and she released her grip on the seatbelt in order to lift her bottom off the seat. She grunted as a bulge suddenly erupted in the back of her diaper.

“Paige!” He scolded, surprising himself with the use of her first name. It was a strict breach of decorum.

She placed a hand on his arm, still lifting herself off the seat with the other. “First, don’t take this the wrong way but you’re kind of an idiot. Second, I’m wearing your stupid diaper so I don’t want to hear about upholstery again. Third, I warned you I had to poop like half an hour ago! Fourth, and this is a big one, we’re probably about to die, so…”

He looked over when she drifted off. She gasped and squeezed her eyes shut again. The bulge in her diaper bottom expanded abruptly as she let out a quiet “ahh”. It was, he noticed, quite a mound by this point. Her diaper was also very yellow from front to back.

He stared.

She smiled back sheepishly. “Yeah, so, that milk was definitely expired… Sorry… But I feel a lot better now!”

Another window was blown out by a bullet, and she yelped.

He had no time for this. “Don’t worry,” he assured her, “I know of another safe house.”

“Oh my gosh, no, no… No…”

He looked over, expecting her to be filling her diaper again.

“Another safehouse?” she said instead, making clear the source of her terror. “No offense but I don’t think you really know what that word means.” She was still holding her bottom off the seat with both arms.

He swerved violently to avoid a collision as he crossed an intersection against a red light, then made an abrupt, hard-right turn, and followed by slamming the gas pedal to the floor. Her continued silence was conspicuous, and he spared her another glance.

Her mouth was open and her eyes wide, her face the very picture of horror.

He looked again, and then again, but only on the third time did he realize what had changed: she had apparently been so violently thrown about that she had used her arms to stabilize herself. Both arms. She was now sitting squarely on her bulging, diapered backside with all of her weight.

To the diaper’s credit, and his relief, none of its contents escaped. She seemed quite bothered however. Her monotone voice was so quiet he could barely hear it over the road noise. “Do you… have any idea… what you just made me do..? I am now sitting… in my own sh-”

Another sharp swerve slammed her head against the glass of her window. He shook his head in an I-told-you-so way. “I cannot stress enough the benefits of wearing a seatbelt-”

“Oh forget your stupid seatbelt!” She blew out a frustrated sigh. “I need a change. Right. Now. Stop somewhere.”

That did it. He could keep his silence no longer. He glared at the oncoming traffic, inflicting his disbelieving scorn on every passing vehicle. “‘Stop somewhere’... is that what you said?”

“Yes.”

“Oh sure… I’ll just call up our buddies two cars behind us -the ones with the guns- and tell them we need a smoke break. Tell me, where would you suggest I stop, hmm?”

“You know what-”

“No, really. Where would you suggest?”

“Fine! Just – shut up!” She lifted herself gingerly off the seat, her mouth twisted in displeasure, and started contorting herself over their seats and into the back. At one point her diapered bottom stuck prominently into the air at right about the level of his face, and he frowned in worry. He could only hope she was not foolish enough to try to leave the vehicle. Also, the discolored, bulging bum of her garment was blocking his view in the rear-view mirror. Very dangerous and clearly against traffic regulations. Civilians! “What are you doing?”

She grunted here and there as she folded herself flat onto the backseat. “I’m going to change, thank you very much! How about you go easy on the turns for a minute?”

Ahead of them a light had changed, and the busy cross-street was now a wall of cars. He had seen it too late; there was no time to change course. The sidewalks here were far too narrow, and the parking lanes full. He had to slam on the brakes just as he heard her peel back the first tab. There was an aborted shriek and a muffled grunt from behind him.

Paige was lifting herself off the floor as he turned to apologize, but he changed his mind and decided he didn’t owe her one. “What? You only said no turns.”

A glare was her only reply as she laid back on the seat again. She started removing the second tab, but without warning she hastily refastened the first one instead. “Oh gosh. There’s more. Why is there more? I’m never going to drink milk again…” There was a loud hissing, and her diaper began to turn even more yellow. That was not the end of it. She proceeded to lift her legs and pull them towards her chest with her arms. Now in something of a fetal position, she let loose a long, loud grunt and squished her face up again, while her back arched slightly. Her diaper expanded vigorously as she seemed helpless to stop it. Finally she sighed in relief and her body relaxed. Her legs fell back to the seat, and she heaved air into her lungs.

That is before she froze, wide eyes staring out the passenger window above her head. He followed her gaze, and noticed a man returning her stare with rapt attention. He too seemed frozen in place, but upon being noticed he scurried away, wiping his brow.

“It’s not so bad,” he said, as reassuring as he could manage.

A woman had been standing next to the observer, and she straightened her clothes awkwardly before fleeing in a different direction, while the teenager next to her hastily pointed the phone she had been holding anywhere else, surreptitiously pressing something on the screen that was probably ‘stop recording’.

Sam looked away, feeling a sudden urgency to check his mirrors and make certain his emergency break was off.

“Well,” Paige announced theatrically, “here we are: the low point of my entire life.”

There was a knock on his window, and he almost pulled his gun before he realized it was a police officer. Sure enough, a police vehicle sat one lane to his left and one car behind. He lowered his window.

“Sir, this vehicle has been registered as stolen. Is this your vehicle? Do you have identification?”

He reached into his pocket but frowned when his hand came back empty. He must have lost his badge somewhere, perhaps fooling around on the bed back at the safehouse? “I’m FBI, Officer. This is a mission of critical importance to protect this woman’s life. He gestured to the backseat.

Paige gave him a wry, thanks-a-lot smile, then waved at the officer.

“You’re claiming that your daughter’s in some kind of danger?”

“No, she’s not-”

“I’m not… no, NOT his daughter, thank you.”

The officer looked between the two of them. “Is this woman aware we have public decency laws in this city? Does she have… special needs or something? You her caregiver?”

Local cops. Small fry. Normally he just ignored them, but getting hauled into jail by one would positively ruin his reputation back at the office. “If you’ll just call the field office and give them my badge number I’m sure we can get this all straightened out.”

“That would be the… Federal Bureau of Investigation field office?” The man’s voice was positively dripping with disbelief. No way he was really going to call.

“That’s the one.”

The man looked back to Paige, lying stretched out with her bulky, filled diaper on full display and around the vehicle, pausing as his gaze took in the shattered windows and bullet holes. “I’m gonna need you to step out of the vehicle, Sir.”

Sam’s stomach churned at what he was about to do, but there was no other option besides letting Paige get killed under the incompetent supervision of the local police while his boss back at the office decided which janitor’s closet he was going to move into while he was collecting dust on desk duty…

“Sorry. Can’t do that.” The light was green and he floored it, but then, having thought of something, he reversed until the officer was back at his window again. “Also, there’s some severe health and safety violations going on a few blocks from here back at the River Lane Apartments. You can talk to the landlord about it; she’s the one two cars back. I’d also like to file for damages against her – specifically the two holes, there and there, where her .45 pistol damaged my requisitioned vehicle, and, Sir, I gotta be honest and say you’ve got a serious jaywalking problem in this town-”

Paige booted his seat hard, nearly knocking him into the steering wheel. “Go!”

He grudgingly accepted that she had a point. This officer was traffic safety. Wrong department altogether. He floored the gas again, and almost immediately their two pursuers were on them again, with the police officer only a car length behind them. The police car’s lights and siren caused exactly no one to stop.

Hearing the soft ripping of plastic, he turned around again to see Paige trying to dig a fresh diaper out of the bag she had brought, a task made more difficult than it should have been by the constant lurching of the car.

Another red light. This time he didn’t stop, but dodged between a bus going one way and semi going the other way. There was a thud and a grunt behind him. No time to look. Traffic in his lane was going nowhere and he needed to borrow the opposing lanes of traffic for a bit, requiring him to first swerve this way, then violently back the other way. Several ‘ow’ and ‘oof’ sounds drifted up from the backseat.

Another gunshot and the front passenger-side window exploded. At least it helped with the smell; Paige’s diaper was anything but fresh. So, they wanted to take pot shots. Time for some real evasive maneuvers. He sped up to 60, going the wrong way down the crowded city streets, and fired a couple of shots over his shoulder just to keep his adversaries on their toes. Each shattered the windshield of one of his pursuers. He discovered, as he did all this, that Paige had many variations on her high-pitched squeak, each somewhere between a grunt and a shriek. At some point the diaper bag and its contents was caught by the wind blowing through the shattered windows. In a blink it was gone.

Paige leaned forward, after climbing off the floor and righting herself again. How had she gotten upside down? Seatbelts! Why did no one listen to him about seatbelts? Her voice was gruff. “How did you… ever get a license...” A quick glance revealed she was still wearing the same, very full diaper.

The Prius was the first vehicle to drop, tumbling on its side as its driver lost control before eventually exploding in a fiery show. It only served them right. No self respecting assassin chased down their quarry in a prius!

Then the landlady. One of the escaped diapers hit her square in the face. It wrapped around her head and stuck to itself, and she collided before she regained control.

The police car was last. He didn’t crash; he just gave up and stopped.

Sam shrugged. That was unexpected, but it only made sense; every once in a while someone had to recognize expertise when they saw it. He kept going at a brisk pace until they were a ways away from the accidents with no sign of pursuit, then slowed down and blended in with traffic for a bit. A short while after that he pulled into the parking lot of one of the city’s many superstores.

He parked and Paige exited the car first. “So the people that were trying to kill me… they’re really dead this time?”

He nodded after coming to stand beside her. “Couldn’t have survived that accident.”

She did a slow blink. “You… did it then. Somehow, in doing everything you could to get me killed… you saved me. Huh.”

He frowned and puffed up his chest. How dare she imply that her safety was at any point not his first concern?

“So… It’s over?”

He looked at her and his anger faded. Her dark hair was a tangled mess framing her scuffed up face. Each of her delicate arms and legs had a few cuts and bruises to show for itself. Her shirt was torn in places. None of that meant anything; she was more beautiful than ever! “Yes, I believe it is.” He had expected some act of relief or gratitude, but she only walked slowly away towards the superstore.

“Well, but, I’m still going to stick around until they assign me somewhere else.” He cleared his throat; something was stuck there. “And… perhaps longer, if you’ll have me?” He smiled as she stopped and turned to face him. “You know… like a proper date, to start? What do you say?”

“Put some clothes on!” someone shouted.

She ignored them, as did he. They were a world away; he could see only Paige. “You said it right, you know; I loved you from the start.”

She smiled weakly, brushing a hand down his cheek. “You kind of stole my heart too, even if you are an idiot. Okay, but if you take me somewhere on a date, it had better have a working bathroom.”

“I promise. Full plumbing.”

“Hey, Lady, you know you’re supposed to change a diaper at some point, right?” added another heckler.

Her smile deepened, and she started affectionately straightening his collar with both hands. “In that case, it is a date indeed, wherein you shall make up for almost killing me, and I shall thank you properly for saving my life.”

“Hey get a room, you two!” The latest heckler snickered. “Preferably one with a changing table!”

He pulled his gun and pointed it at the closest heckler, making a show of switching off the safety. Groceries were dropped as the obnoxious morons ran. He smiled in satisfaction and stowed his weapon.

“My brave, chivalrous prince…” she said.

Seeing desire blooming in her eyes, he kissed her passionately. “I already have an idea in mind,” he said a full minute later after catching his breath. “There’s a restaurant just down the street that-”

“Later,” she said, patting him indulgently on the chest and resuming her walk towards the superstore. “Need diapers.” As if for emphasis, there was a gurgling in her stomach followed by a conspicuous sound from her rear. Her diaper grew by another centimeter or two. “Ahh, gosh. Sorry. And some stomach medicine.”

He removed his jacket and used the sleeves to tie it around her waist. It didn’t cover from every direction, but it was better than nothing. “Don’t worry. I’m fully trained in field medicine.”

“Too bad that doesn’t include diaper changes. I think we need to expand your training.”

“I was distracted by the gunshots,” he protested, “and my mission brief certainly had some gaps…”

* * * * *

As the two walked towards the front doors and the gently setting sun, with Sam talking the whole way, they both failed to notice an unmarked black car pull into the parking lot. It searched the lot and eventually stopped by Sam’s ‘requisitioned’ car. Two men got out wearing suits and sunglasses. They did not have badges, but they did have guns.

A woman glided gracefully out of the black car and walked confidently up behind the men. Like them, she wore dark sunglasses.

“They’re not here,” one man said. “Probably ditched the car.”

A cruel, cold smile stretched across her cherry-red lips, distorting her pretty, heart-shaped face into something both beautiful and terrifying. “Oh, they’re here.” Her voice was melodious, her tall figure imposing. A dark suede jacket covered her tight, black square-neck leather crop top, which clung to the kind of curvaceous female body that caused men to stop in their tracks and stare. She wore a short black skirt that was at once formal and enticing, and dark hose over thick, strong legs. Her shiny, black heels glinted in the setting sun. “Now that those incompetent morons who keep shooting everything in sight are out of the way… I guess the prey is all ours. You’re certain that you got the police called off?”

Both men nodded.

“In that case, let the real hunt begin…”

 

[Apologies if I went too heavy on the diaper messing this chapter. It's one of my favorite themes so I tend to get carried away with it sometimes. I am debating if I should leave it out in the future. Feel free to nudge me one direction or the other.]

[littlebopeeper]

I'm surprised that this story didn't attract more readers.  Your characters have real depth, the story line is great (reminds me of Knight and Day, or perhaps Maxwell Smart's first date with 99), and it's really funny from start to finish.  You have real talent as a writer (I like the elevator story too), so I'm looking forward to reading more of your zany spin on the same old same old.

[AWetterWorld]

On 4/30/2023 at 8:58 AM, littlebopeeper said:

I'm surprised that this story didn't attract more readers.  Your characters have real depth, the story line is great (reminds me of Knight and Day, or perhaps Maxwell Smart's first date with 99), and it's really funny from start to finish.  You have real talent as a writer (I like the elevator story too), so I'm looking forward to reading more of your zany spin on the same old same old.

That is high praise, and I thank you deeply. I will try to live up to it!

As far as readers, I'm not sure that too many readers on this site are even interested in popular movie genre spoofs like this. I think some of it is just that I write stories that break the mold maybe a little too much. Like, I've noticed that student who is discovered/forced into wearing diapers, regression into infants, and 'diaper dimension' (which I don't fully know what that is) seem to be the three most popular themes. Sure people have probably read them to death (I know I did in the case of the diapered student theme, back when I was in school myself), but they come looking for more anyway under the logic of 'why fix what isn't broken?' That is what they like, and that's fair. Lots of great stories in those categories, and more coming out every day!

So I have kind of accepted that no matter how good or bad my writing is I will always exist somewhat on the periphery of this community, only because my particular interests are kind of fringe. I'm okay with that, because of a few people like yourself who make me feel like I have created something that has value, and that was all I really wanted: to create something I could share with others.

Well... ABDL-themed creations, specifically. I admit it: I can't get enough wetting/diapers! Nor can I truly understand any society that can look down on such things - especially the one I live in. So many parts of ourselves that we suppress for the benefit and comfort level of an intolerant society.

 

-Umm, anyway to get off my soap box (sorry about that)... I do mean to finish this story, it's been a hectic few days but hopefully I can get another segment up on one of them tonight.

[AWetterWorld]

Cinnamon, Gunpowder, and Diapers

CHAPTER 3

Sam walked Paige into the supermarket, his arm wrapped around her own. Raised to be a gentleman by a father who wore the title proudly, the middle-aged FBI officer had never been ashamed of it or bought into the modern nonsensical belief that it was some kind of chauvinism. In his father’s generation, he often bragged, men knew on which side of the sidewalk to walk. They knew to stand in the presence of a lady. A proper gentleman did not go around fighting in public like some thug-

“Hey, Morons. They’re called pants,” jeered a shopper on his way out.

A quick right hook from Sam sent the man to the ground with a bleeding nose and caused his friend to stop laughing. Good thing there was no security guard in this store. Now, what had he been saying? Oh yes. A gentleman. A gentleman knew to get the door for-

A sharp, appreciative whistle came from another man as they approached the aisle which Paige had suggested might possess diapers. From their other side, a bit further away, a couple of women gawked. One actually cheered Paige on, pointing to the noticeable, full diaper peeking out from the opening in the jacket he had hastily tied around his companion’s waist. Its poor tabs struggled to hold under its bulging weight. It was discolored from front to back.

He sighed. What he was going to do next was against everything in which he believed, but the woman had inspired him to break the rules several times already in order to save her, and he realized that the experience of flaunting rules was actually, surprisingly… exciting. “Alright, everyone wants to make a big deal out of this? You all want a show? Well, here you go!” With that, he unbuttoned his pants, dropped them, and slid them off awkwardly over his shoes. His tighty-whities were now on full display.

The young man who had whistled had his phone out and was obviously filming. “Alright, yeah, more of that!”

Despite the absurdity of the situation, Sam couldn’t help gloating. “Well, I do work out a bit. I won’t deny I was blessed with a certain… size as well. But for your information, filming indecent material can have legal consequences, so I’ll ask you not to spend too much time on my-”

The man behind the phone looked repulsed for a moment. “No, not you! Can you get out of my shot please? Hey, Girl, you ever take your shirt off too?”

He blanched, noticing that the man was reacting as he was because the coat had fallen off Paige’s waist. How dare the jerk talk to a woman like that, let alone Paige! A left hook ended with the man on the ground and his phone skidding across the store’s smooth, tiled floor.

Paige didn’t seem to care about the coat. She just picked it up and handed it back to him, then continued further down the aisle. “Shoot. These are the baby diapers. We need to keep looking, Sam… Sam?”

Still at the aisle’s entrance, Sam had just finished kneeing another man in the stomach. He spun about to counter an expected attack, but found that it was only a cringing store employee. “Yeah, I’m working on it!” he called back, before dusting off the poor young man’s shoulders courteously. “Excuse me, where would I find adult diapers?”

“Umm… Incontinence products are aisle seven, but Sir, umm, if you don’t put your pants back on I’m going to have to ask you to leave - whoa hold on, is that your girlfriend in the diaper? She’s hot!” The employee went down with an unmanly shriek as another of Sam’s right hooks buried itself in his face.

“Aisle seven!” he called to her. “I’ll meet you there!” He saw her nod and continued on course himself. What aisle was he in now, two? There was three…

“Sir, would you like a free, thirty-day trial of - oof,” a man with a pamphlet said before crumpling to a fist in his stomach. Sam flipped over his back and landed evenly, his practiced movements flowing into a perfect kick which knocked down another man, who had spotted Paige and started digging his phone out.

Aisle three now… “Would you like a free sample of these cheese squares, ouch! Oh, my nuts!” Another one down. Aisle four…

“Hey, Dude, you got a smoke or - oh, man, check that woman out! The things I would do to- Aaaaahhhh…” Aisle five… “Sir, buy this fridge now and you won’t pay a thing for six months! Oh, hey, you’re the no pants guy, do you know that chick over there? Can you get me her number - oof! Oh that hurt… Going to… pass out…” Aisle six…

There! Aisle seven… Well it wasn’t obvious now on account of the man who had just gone flying through the air and knocked the sign down, but this was it. Paige was already half way down, and he caught up to her in front of the adult diapers, only slightly out of breath. His father hadn’t warned him how much work being a gentleman actually entailed! “Did you find them?”

She sighed. “Only the wimpy ones. I guess I can just get some more pullups. These depends aren’t great, but they are easier to change, which, given the way you drive… Oh, hold on, these are on sale…” Her face scrunched up suddenly, and she grunted as she leaned forward onto the shelves, supporting herself with one hand and placing the other on her abdomen. The bulge of her diapered bottom inflated another centimeter with a wet squishing sound. At this point there was little room for her diaper to accommodate more contents, and its existing load threatened to push past the leak guards even as he watched. “Oh gosh. Guess I’d better pick something before I start leaking all over the floor… Oh, but look, these are my favorites! See the cute little pink ribbon around the top? Oh, but they’re not on sale…”

Sam had to wonder how long she could go on like that. He watched in quiet fascination and worry.

* * * * *

Back at the entrance, a woman with dark sunglasses entered, trailed by two men in slick, formal, yet thoroughly forgettable dark suits. Their gazes inspected the trail of chaos across the store.

“Madame Snell, I apologize. I should not have assumed-”

“Enough. Apologies are for weaklings. Bring them to me, and perhaps you will avoid a spanking later.”

The man gulped. “Yes, Mistress - Madam Snell.” Both men rushed forward, but Snell took her time. Somewhere around aisle three there was a free sample booth. It had some cheese squares, which she passed on, and some sort of fruity ‘power juice’. She sipped one box of the juice, smiled, and started on a second.

Before her, a man was picking himself up off the floor, holding his stomach and using the display stand for support. “Ma’am I… hope you enjoy… our product… would you like to buy… a case… I have… there’s a… discount on… if you buy… oh man it hurts… I hate my job…”

“Oh, don’t hurt yourself… again. Tell you what. I’ll buy this case, if you agree to carry it behind me and give me one whenever I snap my fingers… It really is quite tasty.”

“Ma’am, I don’t think I’m supposed to-”

“I’ll give you a hundred dollar tip.”

Several minutes later, the squirrelly man still followed behind her as she tossed an empty box over her shoulder and snapped. Another box was opened, a plastic straw inserted in its mouth, and placed in her hand. Neither of her agents had returned yet, but it was only a matter of time. She was making a show of inspecting the low shelves near the checkout, all the while keeping a discreet eye on the building’s only entrance and exit. Her quarry had not escaped that way.

* * * * *

Sam had reluctantly followed Paige into the women’s restroom, but only after she assured him no one else was inside. He relocated a nearby wet floor sign and jammed it in the door behind him, hoping they would be undisturbed.

She pulled out more and more paper towels from the dispenser while he watched, perplexed, then turned around and exited. After following her out, he saw her open the bag of diapers she had chosen, remove one, and lay herself flat on a metal bench that had been placed near the restrooms. She waved him over. “Okay, this is all still kind of your fault, so you’re going to help me and I’m going to tell you what to do. But keep an eye out! If anyone tries to come our way, intercept them, okay? Being posted on the internet once in a day is enough.”

He felt his eyes widen as he looked around with concern. The restrooms were tucked away down a hallway in the back of the store so they were not completely exposed here, but on the other hand, anyone could stroll into the wide hallway at any time. More to the point, she had just opened that package of diapers before paying for it! He told her as much, but she only rolled her eyes and told him that since they were going to pay for it, it was the same difference. He didn’t follow the logic, but decided that if he could take his pants off in blatant defiance of public decency laws, he could let the matter slide for now… but he would make sure those diapers were paid for!

It soon no longer mattered, as she began unfastening her diaper’s tabs right there on the bench. Her legs were arched so that her feet could rest on the too-short metal surface. Another ripped tab and the diaper was free. She lifted it off the top of her, and it rolled flat to become a long, sodden, mess between her legs. “Okay, now I’m going to lift, and you’re going to dispose of this, then put a towel or two underneath me while we… clean up, okay?”

Before he could do so, or offer an objection, a man in a tight suit came around the corner, walked deliberately down the hallway despite Sam’s glares and upheld flat palm, and stopped before them. “Well, well. Look what we have here.”

Paige sent him a glare of her own, as her hands darted down to cover her private parts. She rolled her eyes when the man declined to move, wrapping his arms across his chest. “Whatever. I’m already on Youtube. This has been the day from hell. I almost died like ten times, and I just… I don’t have the energy to be mad over another pervert in a suit. Can you just go away and stop staring?”

The man’s thin lips bent upward in a predatory sort of smile. “Oh I’m leaving, but you’re coming with me.” His smile faded when his gaze combed across Paige’s open, messy diaper. “Err, but, maybe not until you’re… done with that.”

Sam sighed impatiently, but was actually relieved by the intrusion. This man had asked for it, and it didn’t hurt that this gave him something to do that he was actually good at. He reached out and punched the man in the stomach, hard, but the man only grunted. Then two strong, powerful hands gripped his upper arms, lifted him right off the ground, and threw him through the door of the men’s restroom, where he slid across the floor and into the far wall. ‘Now here’s a man who knows how to express a complaint,’ he thought with a smile of anticipation. ‘Time for some customer service...’

He was already up by the time the attacker followed him through the door, and he flew through the air in a perfect jump-kick that landed in the surprised man’s stomach. His victim flew back through the doorway, across the hall, and through the door of the women’s restroom. “Sorry,” he said with his best smug, lopsided smile, stepping back out into the hallway, “this restroom is single occupancy.”

“Mamma, why isn’t that man wearing pants?”

He frowned as a child’s wide-eyed mother took in the hallway’s occupants and hastily towed him away, apparently deciding the restrooms were no longer important. “Why does the lack of pants always ruin my best lines?” he wondered aloud.

Paige, having just set the used diaper on the floor with a wet ‘slop’, spoke up from her bench, where she was trying to clean herself. “‘Always?’ You mean this happened before?? You know what? I don’t want to know. Look, if you’re done playing around, can you just help me out a little here… This is harder to do by myself. I can’t see everything.” She held one bent leg up in the air with her left hand while the other leg rested flat, dangling off the end of the bench. Her right arm reached around to wipe. Her messy bottom now rested on paper towels, which insisted on sticking to her. 

He stiffened. “‘Playing around?’ Did you not see that kick I just did?”

He had no time to finish, since his attacker burst out of the women’s restroom right then and charged him, driving a thick shoulder into his stomach and once more lifting him off his feet. He crashed into the opposite wall with a thud and a grunt. “It was a master stroke!” he insisted, driving an elbow downward into the other man’s back. The man let go, and for a full minute they both traded punches. “Mastery of martial arts -oof- takes years of practice -ugh- under a true master of -ack…” His monologue was interrupted as he grappled with his adversary, both of them ending up on the men’s room floor once again.

The door stuck on something and didn’t close, giving him full view of another man in a suit walking up to Paige. “Well, well, look what we have here!”

“I already used that line!” the first thug called, looking over a shoulder.

It gave Sam the opening he desired, and a strong right hook sent the man stumbling. One stumble too many, and the would-be abductor’s face was planted in a urinal. “Just don’t eat the ‘cake’!” Sam said proudly.

“Why isn’t your bodyguard wearing pants?” observed the second thug from the hallway.

He could only sigh. Yet another of his brilliant lines was now destined to go unremarked and unappreciated, in favor of his inconvenient state of dress.

The first man recovered and charged him again, sending his back crashing into a mirror. It shattered, its frame falling uselessly to the floor.

Back in the hallway, he saw Paige kick the second thug in the groin without getting up, then return to her attempts at cleaning herself. “Fine! I’ll just do it all myself. Seriously: men! You know, someday you’re going to run out of excuses to get out of diaper changes!”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Sam growled, somewhere between getting his head slammed against the wall and being thrown across the room and into a stall. He took a lesson from Paige and kicked the man in the groin just as the stall door opened, then in the face when the man keeled over. That turned the tables, and a moment later he had his hands around the man’s neck and was slamming him up against the wall.

“What is this commotion? I said to take them ‘quietly’!” This was a new voice: feminine, strangely melodic. “Well, at least you found her. What are you waiting for? Get off the floor and bring her.”

He looked out at the hallway but had no view of the women who spoke. As he watched, the thug in the hallway got shakily back to his feet as ordered, only to gesture timidly at Paige’s dirty bottom and her mess of a diaper. “Umm… should we… wait for her or something..?”

Paige had once more abandoned her attempts to wipe upon seeing the new arrival and the thug once more on his feet. Her hands tried once again to cover her modesty, but her legs hovered in the air, waiting to kick.

“Oh, you insufferable creature. Clean her up, get a fresh diaper on her, and… Let’s… Go!”

“Okay… umm… Ow! She keeps kicking me!”

“Oh for heaven’s sake… grab her legs!”

Sam’s adversary was losing energy now, but managed to break free of the stranglehold. They grappled again, and this time the thug ended up flying into the stall, with Sam leaping on top of him and soon holding his head into the toilet.

He could still hear Paige’s voice from the hallway, but the sounds of fighting died down out there as well. “Don’t you even think about putting your hands on me - stop! Sam! Get out here - this hoodlum is… changing me? Oh, well, long as you’re down there, you missed a spot right - there you go… One more wipe up the middle, please..? Okay, you open the diaper by - oh, yeah, you got it...” Her voice got loud again. “See, Sam? He knows how to do this! It is SO not that hard!” Then, softer: “A little tighter on the waist, put the left tab over… here, I got it.”

At least she was adapting well, he thought as he stood up slowly, making sure the man whose head was in the toilet wasn’t moving. He smiled. “Don’t forget to flush,” he said with his most braggish inflection, reflexively looking around to make sure there was no one to comment on his lack of pants.

As Sam stepped into the hallway, the second thug was just standing up after helping Paige into her clean diaper. He straightened his tie as if proud of his work, then got kicked in the crotch again. He fell to his knees with a fresh groan as Paige stood up.

Sam had to smile in pride. Life on the run was not for everyone, but Paige was adapting quite well indeed!

“About time. Why do men always take so long in the bathroom, anyway?”

He glanced back at the first thug’s bottom, presently sticking out of the puny stall. He almost shot back a cynical retort, then -finally picking up on her own sarcasm- shrugged instead. “Guy stuff. I recommend we leave.”

“You sure?” she said cynically. “I don’t want to deny you more time with your new playmates.”

“Oh, now don’t go too easy on him,” a sharply-dressed woman interrupted from the end of the hallway, “too much playtime will spoil a man rotten.” She was holding a simple but effective 9mm pistol, and her proper -if casual- grip suggested she knew how to use it. 

Then, instead of the gun going off, the woman’s left hand went flying to her groin and she made a soft tisking sound. “Well, if that isn’t the worst timing. Blast those juice boxes. I’m afraid we’re going to have to cut this short.” The gun barrel moved to point conspicuously at Sam. “In fact, since I don’t need you at all, I believe you can just go sit in the corner from now on… or the mortuary.”

 

The unmistakable sound of sirens stopped the woman’s finger just before the gun went off. Even from across the store the sound was loud; the police cars were no doubt right outside. The sirens stopped abruptly, and there was the softer sound of car doors opening, then people shouting.

“Blast those bumbling fools… Very well! But don’t worry, Dears… We’ll be seeing each other again.” Her full, red lips curved into a beautiful, but terrifyingly raptorial smile. She stowed her gun as she walked away, quickly disappearing behind shelves of merchandise. Her left hand was still pressed lightly against the front of her skirt, and Sam was unsure if she was heading for the exit or the restroom.

Paige sighed. “I think it’s-”

“Boys!” The two thugs sprung to life at the sharp bark, limping and stumbling their way out of the hallway – even the one who had his head in the toilet, who coughed and hacked and dripped his way down the hallway after the first one.

Paige sighed again. “What am I saying? This is never going to be over, is it?”

Sam pulled her close, running a hand fondly through her tousled dark hair. “Grab your diapers, Ma’am,” he replied coolly, “and just hold on for the ride. It may be a crazy rollercoaster, but I’ll never let you fall off.”

She hugged him tightly. “You have the worst lines I’ve ever heard… but I love you.”

He frowned at the first part, but pushed it aside. “Let’s go out the back emergency exit and steal a new car. Is our date still on, by the way?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” she replied. “I guess no one else will either; we’ll be the only couple there without pants. Maybe I’ll make Youtube twice in one day.”

* * * * *

Later, and a safe distance away from the commotion, Madam Snell once again stood outside of her dark, unmarked vehicle. Her two assistants rested their four hands on the hood of the car and leaned forward, their pants at their ankles. Their suits were torn and marked with dirt smears all over. One man’s head was still dripping with water.

She walked slowly back and forth behind them, holding a long black bamboo stick with a comfortable, leather-wrapped handle. “I’m so very… disappointed,” she informed them. “This was a very simple task I gave you.”

“But… you didn’t tell us he was trained in the ancient style of the ‘Sad Donkey’, taught only in the temples of the Shaolin-”

There was a mighty smack as she brought the bamboo to bear on the man’s exposed bottom, then a yelp as she did so again. “Did I ask you for excuses?”

“No, Mistress!”

Smack. Smack.

“No, Mistress, please, we’ll do better!”

She inspected their backsides to make sure their skin was sufficiently red, then whipped them a couple more times for good measure.

However, no sooner had their pitiful yelping finished than a new sound could be heard in between the passing of cars: a long, quiet hissssss from between her legs. Having gotten her out of the superstore, if barely, her body had apparently reached its limit. If only she had time to stop and take care of business, but it had been too important to get out of there before one of the officers could recognize her from the security tapes they were no doubt watching. She could not afford to waste time dealing with them, and avoiding any official paper trail was a critical part of her mission.

“Blast it!” she swore as her bladder continued its release. The warm pee quickly saturated her adult-sized, cloth training pants. These had been her favorites; their pink cloth was covered with images of limousines and guns. Unfortunately, being what they were, and unlike proper diapers, they had no water-proof outer layer to prevent leaks. Her yellow fluid was flowing down both her legs and formed a stream in the air between them, pattering loudly on the pavement. “Those juice boxes were far too delicious. I shouldn’t have drank so many, but… When we’re done here, you two will buy new suits, some more of those power juice boxes, and… diapers. Our mission is too important; I have no time for accidents such as this!”

In unison: “Yes, Mistress!”

There was, by this point, quite a puddle between her feet. She stopped peeing, but a steady drip-stream continued to escape the thick cloth of her training pants. “Good, now, I’m going to climb into the back seat, where you two buffoons will proceed to change me into fresh underwear.” 

“Yes, Mistress, but…”

She sighed. “What?”

“Are you sure we’ve been punished enough? I only wish to serve-”

“Alright!” She sighed. “I suppose I have been too easy on you… but only a few more. You know I hate the feeling of wetness against my skin!”

“Yes, Mis- Ouch! Ow! Ouch!”

When it was done she put away her stick, climbed on top of the back seat, laid down, removed her skirt, and waited expectantly while the men pulled themselves together. Finally, one of them appeared. He reverently removed her heels and dried them, pulled down her pantyhose and her thick soaking underwear, wiped her dry (along with the seat) using a small towel from the trunk -a gilded, premium towel of course- before finally sliding a fresh pair of training pants up her legs and fresh hose over the top. It took him longer than it should have, but the man could not even walk properly after the spanking she had given him, so she supposed it would have to be forgiven. “Finally,” she muttered, changing her position to sit normally. 

She pulled out her phone and fired up the app she had been looking for with a satisfied smile. An aerial view of a car driving down a city street appeared, complete with latitude and longitude. She had updated her superiors immediately after escaping the superstore, asking for drone support. They had not disappointed her.

“Now be quick about it, Boys!” she called, as the men ran off to fill their shopping list. “We have a reunion for which I do not want to be late…”

[Babypants]

Another great chapter!  Who says that diaper fiction can't be fun and games?

Lingering questions: did Sam pay for Paige's diapers on their way out?  Is his wallet, complete with money and ID, in a pocket of his now abandoned pants?  Will the videos of Paige go viral before they reach his next safe house?  Inquiring minds want to know! 

[littlebopeeper]

And the saga continues (by my count, our hero floored 8 guys before reaching the adult diaper aisle)!  And now the story has a proper villain, complete with the obligatory brainless henchmen.

Please don't let the lack of reviews get you down.  This is a good story, with emphasis on the word "story."  It's very, very creative, has great pace, and now a villain to pair off with the hero.  Perhaps I'm just getting old (I came of age in the era of Rubber Life and DPF), but I want to read a story in which diapers are a feature, not the end all and be all.  Send-ups of movies have a lot of potential.  How about DIAPERS ON A PLANE?  NIGHT OF THE LIVING DIAPER?  THE DIAPER TRANSPORTER?

  

[AWetterWorld]

On 5/3/2023 at 7:11 AM, Babypants said:

Another great chapter!  Who says that diaper fiction can't be fun and games?

Lingering questions: did Sam pay for Paige's diapers on their way out?  Is his wallet, complete with money and ID, in a pocket of his now abandoned pants?  Will the videos of Paige go viral before they reach his next safe house?  Inquiring minds want to know! 

Thanks! Great questions all! Come to think of it, I'm not sure how he plans to take her on a 'date' when neither of them have wallets anymore. I'm going to enjoy coming up with answers to each of those questions.

9 hours ago, littlebopeeper said:

And the saga continues (by my count, our hero floored 8 guys before reaching the adult diaper aisle)!  And now the story has a proper villain, complete with the obligatory brainless henchmen.

Please don't let the lack of reviews get you down.  This is a good story, with emphasis on the word "story."  It's very, very creative, has great pace, and now a villain to pair off with the hero.  Perhaps I'm just getting old (I came of age in the era of Rubber Life and DPF), but I want to read a story in which diapers are a feature, not the end all and be all.  Send-ups of movies have a lot of potential.  How about DIAPERS ON A PLANE?  NIGHT OF THE LIVING DIAPER?  THE DIAPER TRANSPORTER?

  

Thank you kindly! I agree completely about the need for story. Without context, nothing that happens is engaging or provocative, it's just words on a page or empty images on a screen. The references you cited were also fascinating. It appears I was just one generation too late to witness the emergence of DPF, or to read Rubber Life in its heyday, but I loved learning about how interests that no one was willing to acknowledge managed to break out into a somewhat organized subculture, which is no doubt the reason I have websites like this one to connect with others like me today.

And also... NIGHT OF THE LIVING DIAPER! YES! I have to do that now; I love the zombie genre. I don't know how I could write four stories at once without each one moving at a glacial pace, but once I finish up one of my present stories that would be fun! Diapers on a Plane too - not sure which one I want to do first...

[Babypants]

Playing off of movies is a fantastic idea (so says the guy whose own story is a salute to Pulp Fiction).  How about Dr. Goldfoot and the Diaper Machine?  Beach Blanket Diaper?  I'm envisioning the late Candy Johnson doing her famous dance routine from the Beach Party movies while wearing a diaper!  Have you seen any of these old American International flicks?

[AWetterWorld]

On 5/5/2023 at 2:10 PM, Babypants said:

Playing off of movies is a fantastic idea (so says the guy whose own story is a salute to Pulp Fiction).  How about Dr. Goldfoot and the Diaper Machine?  Beach Blanket Diaper?  I'm envisioning the late Candy Johnson doing her famous dance routine from the Beach Party movies while wearing a diaper!  Have you seen any of these old American International flicks?

I did not manage to find the two you mentioned on the streaming services I have, although I did manage to watch the Dr. Goldfoot sequel with the "girl bombs". It was not, I admit, as funny as it sounded like it would be, but I imagine the first one was probably better. Still, as inspiration for similarly goofy/kinky story ideas I appreciated the recommendations!

[Babypants]

The second one did indeed bomb, if you'll pardon the pun.  The first one was actually quite entertaining.  Don't give up the search for Candy Johnson; her dance scenes in the Beach Party movies left a lot of us guys with our tongues hanging out.

[AWetterWorld]

@Babypants

I finally found Candy Johnson beach movie dancing...

I had to pinch myself, then watch it again. Good golly look at her go! Off the charts sexy sure, but more than that: just the raw energy she displayed... No amount of coffee could give me the ability to do half of that!

The reaction of the men was often hilarious too. One video I watched had car-tire-skidding sound effects as the surfers dropped, at one point they reversed the playback to simulate the surfer 'backing up' to do a double-take. In another she does the hip swing and the men go flying through a wall just from watching it. Some of the expressions... Oh gosh I laughed; I'm such a sucker for deliciously corny humor!

I wish we still lived in a world where movies like that were made. It seems like instead, we're moving into an era where actresses are actually, publicly scorned for being beautiful and sexy on screen. At least in mainstream Hollywood. So sad.

In any event, thank you for that. Well worth the hunt!

[AWetterWorld]

I was really on a role in all my stories, then all of a sudden my creativity tank hits empty and full stop. Engine stalled. No ignition. I'm done.

Quite frustrating. I'll get back to these stories as soon as I get my mojo back. Apologies.

[dondd]

On 5/11/2023 at 3:00 AM, AWetterWorld said:

I was really on a role in all my stories, then all of a sudden my creativity tank hits empty and full stop. Engine stalled. No ignition. I'm done.

Quite frustrating. I'll get back to these stories as soon as I get my mojo back. Apologies.

Given what I have just read in this story, it will be worth the wait!! Thanks!