Virtue

[opscaena]

Virtue follows the lives of several women raised in a restrictive cult which forces it’s female members to wear and use diapers. Some characters resist this form of control, some embrace it, and others seek to use it to their advantage. 18+.

This story will contain elements of coercion, brainwashing, and misogyny. There will be no incest but there will be family dynamics that would be reprehensible in real life. The first two chapters of this story are public, further updates will be posted on my patreon. When/if the rest of the story becomes public, it will be posted in this thread as well.

All characters are over 18.

-

Virtue: 1

Hannah

Hannah stood in the kitchen, her hands in the warm dish water, watching the sparrows outside bathing in the puddles from yesterday’s rain.

Hannah shifted her legs as she reached for the dish soap. Her heavy cloth night diaper sagged between them, straining her frosted plastic pants. The skirt of her faded blue gingham dress swished over the plastic as she moved.

At the sound of a loud slap behind her, Hannah started and looked over her shoulder, a burst of urine dribbling into her diaper as she did so.

Her mother, Michelle, had just plopped a large wad of bread dough on the table and was kneading it aggressively. Hannah watched her admiringly, envying her mother’s confidence and skill in the kitchen.

She knew that in her mother, she was looking at her future. Michelle was middle aged, pudgy, and had a tired but attractive face. Her dark curly hair was pulled back in a bun and she worked the dough with the shapely arms and strong hands of a woman used to hard labour.

Michelle’s diaper, the outline of which was clearly visible against the back of her dress, looked heavier than her own. Unlike Hannah, her mother had a distinct waddle as she moved around the kitchen. However, Hannah still thought that Michelle’s large diaper looked less out of place on her matronly figure than on her own girlish hips.

Hannah greatly admired her mother’s humble strength in the many sacrifices she had made for her family. She was thankful that for her, everything would be easier than it had been for her mother. She had had the privilege to be raised correctly from the start, whereas her mother had had to relearn everything about a virtuous life when she met Hannah’s father.

Looking up from working the dough to see Hannah watching her, Michelle directed a single pointed look back at the dishes.

Hannah blushed and picked up a spatula, feeling herself softly pass gas into her diaper as she did so. One good thing about getting up early to help mom in the kitchen was that it gave her bowels a chance to move before her morning diaper change. The downside, of course, was having to spend more time awake in her much thicker night diaper.

Hannah picked up a bowl with a pattern of soft pink flowers around the rim and dipped her dishrag into the soapy water. Truthfully, Hannah did have a tiny secret, and one that made her blush with guilt to think of.

She knew very well that it wasn’t appropriate for women to hold their waste, but she had been secretly practising influencing when she used her diaper. Too often, her body chose to go only after she had been changed into the diaper she would spend the rest of the day in.

Hannah had slowly learned that with a little effort, she could dirty her diaper before her morning change and therefore spend most of the afternoon in a cleaner diaper.

She’d never been explicitly told it was wrong, but she couldn’t imagine it was something a truly good and virtuous girl would do. Nonetheless, it gave her the tiniest thrill to exert this little bit of control over her life, and to privately know that at least some of her innocent feminine accidents were intentional.

As she felt the pressure building in her bowels, she knew that she needed to act now before the urge passed. Feeling herself flushing with excitement and embarrassment, Hannah spread her legs slightly and tried to push. She braced her small hands on the edge of the sink and leaned forward, unable to concentrate on pretending to wash a dish as she pushed.

Hannah stifled a little gasp as she felt a unexpectedly large and mushy mess slide into her diaper. Hannah beamed even through the familiar shame she always felt after using her diapers. That was so easy! She tried to casually smooth down the back of her skirt, feeling the slight bulge of her mess under her plastic pants.

Sheepishly, Hannah’s gaze darted back over to her mother to check if she’d noticed.

Michelle’s only indication that she was aware her daughter had filled her diaper was an expressionless glance at Hannah’s bottom. She continued dividing the dough for buns without comment.

Hannah turned back to the dishes, looking at her reflection in a large soup spoon. Only 19, she was sweetly and delicately beautiful, with a heart-shaped face, large expressive brown eyes, and a constellation of freckles across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. Her light brown hair was braided in a single thick plait and her bangs, which she had been growing out, were tucked behind her ears.

Hannah placed the spoon in the dish rack and began picking at the dried dough along the edge of a mixing bowl. She knew that of course, under no circumstances would her mom say anything negative about her dirty diaper. Her mother had always made it very clear that it was one thing for the boys to tease their sisters about their full diapers, but for the girls to do it to each other was nothing but catty meanness. Still, she felt reassured that her mom hadn’t noticed anything unusual about her accident.

She wondered if her mother ever experimented with maintaining control over her body in this way. She couldn’t imagine that her mother would ever think of such a thing. She did wonder about her older sisters, who certainly didn’t have all the respect for themselves that they ought too-

“Are you quite done with those dishes, Hannah?”

Hannah’s head shot back up at this subtle rebuke. She looked back over her shoulder at her mother.

Michelle gestured with a flour covered hand to the dining room. “Can you set the table please?” Her voice was incredibly controlled and betrayed only the slightest sign that her limited supply of patience was wearing.

Hannah nodded and wiped her hands on a dish towel. Grabbing a handful of cutlery, she made her way over to the table. As accustomed to it as she was, her full diaper still interrupted her natural grace. She felt awkward and infantile, especially after receiving a tiny reprimand from her mother for dilly-dallying.

Hannah carefully set the table and straightened the floral table runner. As she looked up, she was dazzled by the morning sun shining through the dining room windows. Outside, the pear trees in the yard were just coming into bloom. Beyond them and only just visible from the window, her and her sister’s diapers were drying on the clothesline.

Hannah sat down on the low window ledge, entranced by the birds that were flitting around the pear blossoms. Her diaper squished uncomfortably under her, her mess mushing upwards into the front of her diaper and pressing against her vulva.

Hannah smiled, knowing that it was a sign that she was loved and protected. She knew that she was truly blessed.

[opscaena]

Virtue: 2

Michelle

Michelle shifted her weight as she poured water into the large pot. It was not even 8:00 am and already she desperately wanted to get off her feet. Her wide hips ached from the weight of her diaper and she was beginning to itch.

She rubbed her chest with one hand.  Her breasts, heavy with milk, were starting to drip into her bra.

Urine spurted into her diaper as Michelle set the pot on the stove. The burner clicked twice, and ignited.

Michelle's husband had been out of town for three days now, and her daughters, Leah and Abigail, had been feeding the cows on their own. The girls were now 24 and 22 respectively, but Michelle still doubted their ability to get their chores done before either her diaper or her breasts leaked all over the floor.

She opened one of the white kitchen cabinets that flanked her stove and pulled out the canister of rolled oats. It was empty except for a few forlorn oats dusted across the glass bottom.

Typical, she thought. Just like these girls to empty it and not even think to refill it.

After years of rigorous diaper training, Michelle was now fully incontinent. The two booster pads she required in her night diaper forced her to waddle on her way over to get the bag of oats out of the walk-in pantry. As she rounded the island in the centre of the farmhouse kitchen, she checked to see if the table was set. It was not. Hannah had scattered some cutlery around and moved onto more important things.

“Hannah?” Michelle said with measured restraint. “Finish setting this table please.”

"Oh!" Hannah jumped up from her perch on the windowsill, blushing and looking down at her hands. "Sorry." She rushed over to get the bowls and glasses out of the cupboard, her plastic pants rustling under her dress.

Behind Hannah's back, Michelle rolled her eyes. She stepped into the pantry.

Hannah's mind was always, always on something other than her work. Sometimes, in her less charitable moments, Michelle thought it was on nothing at all. So much for all the "grounding" effects of diapers she'd heard so much about.

Michelle still bitterly missed her eldest daughter, Rebecca, who was capable and obedient and had been a tremendous help to her mother while she was at home. Not like these three she was left with now.

I must remember to call her later, Michelle thought, if I want to see her for the wedding.

Rebecca had moved away several years ago after her husband had taken a job outside of their isolated community.  Michelle had not seen her since, and only spoke to her on the phone occasionally. Michelle had struggled with letting her go, but she trusted Rebecca to remain diapered and obedient, even living in the outside world.

Now out of sight of Hannah, Michelle hooked a hand under her dress and adjusted her diaper. She ran a finger under her plastic pants to scratch herself. The elastic leg gathers were pressing into her thighs and irritating her skin.

The smell of her wet diaper stayed on her fingers as she pulled her hand away. That ammonia, cat-pee smell that used to embarrass her so much. Now it permanently hung around her crotch. She'd done her best to make her peace with it.

Michelle massaged her full breasts. A jet of milk spurted into her bra. She wasn't hurting yet, but if those girls took much longer she was going to have to either pump or make Hannah nurse for all three of them.

A bloom of warmth spread throughout her diaper as she squatted to pick up the large bag of oats. She paused, letting herself finish peeing. The sound of her piss hitting the cloth was audible even over Hannah clattering dishes in the dining room.

She pressed a hand against the warm plastic, checking that she wasn’t leaking. Not that she could do anything about it if she was. It wouldn’t be the first time she had been forced to cook breakfast with piss dripping down her legs.

Michelle no longer felt shame or disgust about using her diaper, as she had when she was Hannah’s age. Not that she would ever tell her daughters that. She'd made sure to impress on them that diapers were meant to be humbling and shameful. And of course, this was really a gift that they should be thankful for, since it helped guide their behaviour as women.

But truthfully, the days of burning with humiliation at every wet and dirty diaper were long past her now. Michelle had been in diapers for over thirty years. More than half her life. Far too long to really believe that soiling herself was anything more than an uncomfortable inconvenience.

The fridge door banged shut as Michelle waddled back into the kitchen with the oats. Hannah emerged from behind it with a carton of orange juice in each hand. The purple box of laxative packets was on the counter beside her.

Oh, good girl, Michelle thought to herself. She remembered this time.

“When you’re done with that,” The oatmeal puffed fine dust out on to the countertop as Michelle slammed it down. “Shake out the rugs and sweep this floor please.”

Hannah nodded. She squeezed past her mom with the juice, the box of laxatives tucked under one arm. The smell of her dirty diaper trailed after her.

Scooping the oatmeal out of the bag with a measuring cup, Michelle began pouring it into the boiling water. She farted loudly and wetly into her diaper as she set the cup down and reached for a mixing spoon.

Hannah, who was lining up the cartons of juice on the table, threw up her head like a startled deer to stare at Michelle’s butt, her ears practically pricked up.

Michelle sighed. For all her apparent innocence, Hannah was one of those nosey girls who just had to know what was going on in everyone else’s diaper at all times. Always had been.

When Michelle was younger and still adjusting to her own diaper training, it used to embarrass her terribly when her daughter would loudly ask what mommy had done in her diaper. Now it only irritated her.

“No, Hannah, I didn’t.” Michelle looked through the steam at Hannah, replying to her unasked question. “Worry about your own diaper.”

"Sorry."

"Get those rugs picked up, please."

Hannah nodded. She bent to pick up the rug by the table, the her diaper pressing against the back of her dress.

Shaking her head, Michelle turned back to her oatmeal.

Hannah brushed past her mom on her way out the door with the rugs. The smell of her diaper was much more pungent and Michelle wondered if she'd used it again. She'd still have to wait until after breakfast, if she had.

The door clicked shut behind her.

Michelle listened for the soft thumps that would tell her that Hannah was beating the rugs out and not daydreaming. After a few seconds, she heard it. The dust plumed out over the driveway.

Michelle stirred the oatmeal. She pulled the brown sugar and cinnamon out of the cabinet to her right.

At least she knew Hannah would always be a good girl. She had always been polite and shy, and other than her unladylike fascination with other people’s diapers, was a very sweet and inoffensive girl. And unlike her sisters, who had all gone through rebellious phases, Hannah had never offered a moment’s resistance to being kept in diapers.

Michelle had been deeply ashamed to have to explain to her four daughters that yes, really, there had once been a time when she thought it was her right to use a toilet. Yes, just like the boys did. No, she hadn’t known it was wrong.  Yes, she even wiped herself. No, she hadn’t found it gross, unfeminine, undignified. She just didn’t know any better. That was just what the world was like, outside their safe little community of Virtue. She had not been lucky and privileged, as they were. And weren't they glad to live here, now that they knew that?

Although Michelle was a little jealous of her daughters for not having to go through diaper training, she was thankful that they would never live the kind of sinful, virtueless life that she had once led. They would all make innocent virginal brides, who would not need to be diaper trained or shown their place by their husbands. Already, they all knew exactly the right way for a woman to behave.

Michelle tapped her wooden spoon on the side of the pot, placed it on her spoon rest. Turning away from the stove, Michelle went to refill the canister of oats.

Right as she hoisted the bag and started to pour, she felt it. She farted again, and then her body opened and a firm mess parted her cheeks. It stopped half inside her, trapped by the pressure of her diaper. Michelle spread her legs and tilted her hips, jiggling the heavy cloth to make room. The rest of her poop, solid and massive, piled into the seat of her diaper.

Michelle sighed as she screwed the lid back on the canister.  She could already smell herself. Well, better to get it over with now instead of after she was changed. Still, she wasn't looking forward to sitting down in this to eat.

She turned to place the canister back in the cabinet. Catching her reflection in her oven door, she could see that her diaper was pushed out in a triangular bulge that was unmistakable even through her dress.

The door opened and Hannah stepped back in, the broom in her hand. She put a delicate hand up to cover her nose and, leaning around the kitchen island to get a better look, stared intently at Michelle’s diaper.

“Yes,” Michelle rolled her eyes. “Yes, Hannah, I did.”

[CynthiaCM]

This is quite amazing and very realistically done.

[opscaena]

Virtue: 3

I'm releasing chapter 3! Thanks for the interest and kind comments so far!

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Leah climbed the fence into the horse pasture, the stall cleaning fork in one hand. Her diaper squished against her crotch as she swung a leg over the top rail.

Gripping the fence with her legs, she paused and looked out over the pasture,  giving herself a second to back out of her plan. Later in the season it would be lovely, and she would ride Cookie bareback here. Now, the ground just recently thawed, it was a muddy nightmare. The only dry ground was on the small hill, where the shed that served as a shelter for the two horses stood.

She glanced back towards the cow barn, checking to make sure her sister Abigail was still busy inside. The warm spring wind blew her hair - dirty blonde, and coming loose from its ponytail - around her face.

Her heart was pounding.

This wasn't her first time. Hell, it wasn't even the first time this week. Maybe one day, she thought, this wouldn’t scare the hell out of her.

There was no sign of Abigail. The other girl had only been halfway done cleaning her side of the barn when she left. Leah would have maybe 10 minutes. She could do that.

She pulled her other leg over and jumped down on the other side, careful not to bang the handle of the fork on the fence. The mud sucked at her gumboots. God, the barnyard stunk this time of year. Which suited her purposes just fine.

Leah had been holding since she woke up. Not pee, of course, since she knew that was still beyond her. But with considerable effort, she had been able to keep from messing herself. She'd rushed through her chores, sweating and cramping, hoping to get a few minutes alone before breakfast. By the time she left the barn, the cramping had slowed to a uncomfortable fullness in her tummy and holding was no longer an active struggle. Leah was sure this was a sign that she was learning quickly.

She squished through the mud, heading for the shed. Her blue workman’s overalls felt tight around her hips and her butt as she walked. Although she was tall and thin, the bulk of her diaper made her look pear shaped.

Even though they were the only reasonable attire for working with cattle, Leah hated the overalls. She did not appreciate the way they pressed her diaper against her, and they were not flattering. She knew that she should be grateful that her parents let the girls wear pants of any kind, since most families in Virtue considered them too masculine and immodest for women. But honestly, she was almost inclined to agree. At least a skirt didn't put her diaper on display.

Not that Leah was overly concerned about what anyone in Virtue thought about anything. Because Leah was going to get out.

Misty, grey and still fuzzy with her winter coat, emerged from the shed on top of the hill. She walked towards Leah with her ears up, her fat belly swaying.

Leah held out a hand, let Misty sniff it. The horse's breath was warm against Leah's skin. Leah patted her on the shoulder, then stepped past her. Misty continued down the hill to the hay that Leah had already forked over.

As Leah crested the hill, the ground became drier under her feet. She approached the shed.

It was closed on three sides and roofed with corrugated tin. The open side faced away from the barn and into the forest on the edge of her family's property. The horses had chewed on it in more than one place, and there were knotholes and small gaps in it's planks.

It was not ideal, she knew. But it would work for now.

Leah took another look back towards the cow barn. No Abigail.

Leah had no intentions of becoming a housewife and family milk cow like her mother, popping out seven babies and still being forced to wear diapers even after all those babies had grown up. That was the life her older sister Rebecca had signed on for, and her little sister Hannah, who Leah suspected had never had an original thought in her life, would undoubtedly do the same.

That was the life that was waiting for her, if she stayed in Virtue.

Leah took a deep breath. She was sweating again. Her nerves were not making holding any easier.

She had made up her mind some time ago that no matter what her sisters did or her family thought, she was going to be part of the outside world. And although she didn’t know much about it, she did know one thing; out there, women were potty trained.

She stepped into the shed. The bay gelding, Cookie, pricked his ears and sniffed Leah as she entered. She smiled and stroked his neck just under his black mane, where his coat was the softest.

"Move." Leah shoved Cookie’s side gently. “Go eat.”

The horse took a few steps out of the shed, sighed, looked back over his shoulder at her.

“Shoo.” She waved the fork at him.

Cookie sighed again and snorted softly. He left the shed and picked his way down to the hay.

Leah leaned up her stall cleaning fork against the wall of the shed. She kicked aside the manure with her gumboots.

She unzipped her overalls and ungracefully began shrugging them off.  Underneath, she was wearing only her diaper and the pale green tanktop she had slept in. She pulled off the blue cotton sleeves and goosebumps rose on her arms as the clammy air hit her skin. She had not thought it was cold out until that moment. It made her feel more exposed, more aware that she was stripping off her clothes in the barnyard.

There was, of course, no toilet that Leah had access too. Her father had uninstalled the one in the girl's bathroom before she was even born. The only one in the house was in the locked bathroom that the boys used. The outhouse, too, had been destroyed a long time ago. The temptation to the girls wasn't worth it, her parents had said.

So, Leah’s only realistic option was to practice her potty training outside. In whatever corner of the barnyard she could find.

Now standing with her diaper exposed and her overalls around her knees, Leah bent over to stuff the top of her overalls into the pants so that she didn’t drag them in the dirt. Or poop on them.

The day before yesterday, her corner of choice had been in the cow barn. She'd taken as long as possible with her chores, letting Abigail finish and move on to feeding the chickens. Then she'd stripped, squatted, shit into the same manure trough that the cows did. She'd had to ask herself, ass out, shitting in the barn like another animal, if this was really the dignity she was looking for. She wasn't sure that she had an answer.

Leah stumbled, hobbled by her overalls around her ankles, and caught her balance with one arm against the shed. The chewed edges of the wood left splinters in her skin. Leah let out a frustrated breath and bent down to untangle herself.

Footsteps outside.

She froze. There would be no getting out of this. Oh, Abby, you'll never guess what happened, I just slipped and all my clothes fell off and my diaper-

Warm alfalfa scented breath blew across her face.

She looked up and directly into Cookie’s pink nose.

"Shoo!" She hissed at him. "Aren't you hungry?"

The horse, having already lost interest in breakfast, took a step back and tossed his head slightly. His ears were up and cheerful, and he was watching her with uncharacteristic interest. He’d never seen her do anything so strange before.

Leah sighed, put a hand on her chest, tried to regain her composure. Well, it wasn't like Cookie was going to tattle on her.

She pulled down her diaper and plastic pants. This was the hardest part. It felt wrong to have nothing between her legs. When had she felt that, when she wasn't getting her butt wiped? Even during showers, she still wore plastic pants.

She squatted. This too was wrong, and something her and her sisters had been scolded for many times. Squatting to poop, like a dog or a toddler, implied control and intent, and was inappropriate for a woman as she should have neither. A good girl was surprised by her body every time.

Well. Good thing Leah was not a good girl.

She pushed.

And pushed again.

Nothing.

She tried again, grunting with effort. Cookie took a step closer and sniffed the top of her blonde head.

Leah bobbed her butt up and down in frustration, tears stinging her eyes. A trickle of pee splattered her gumboots. That was all that was coming.

“LEAH???”

Cookie snorted and threw up his head, looking towards the cow barn.

Leah fell back, her butt hitting the dirt. She felt her bladder release under her as she hit the ground. Her pee pooled in the dust, then rolled in rivulets across the uneven ground. She jumped up, terrified that it would get on her diaper or overalls and give her away.

She followed Cookie’s gaze, craning her neck to peer through the gap in the boards towards the cow barn. Abigail was standing by the fence.

Leah calmed only slightly. She knew her sister couldn't see her, but she also knew that Abigail would walk up to see what was wrong if she didn't answer her.

She tried to dust off her butt and found she was muddy with pee and dirt between her legs. She wiped herself with her hand. Clumps of dirt and strands of hay clung to her fingers. Not knowing what else to do, she smeared it on the wall of the shed, and wiped herself again, and again. The third time her hand came away clean. Good enough.

Her hands trembling, she dragged her diaper up her slim thighs, doing a ridiculous little hop-skip to get it back on. She frantically pulled on her overalls and peeked her head around the corner of the shed to look at Abigail.

“YEAH???” she yelled back, in her most bored and irritated big sister voice. She was still struggling with her zipper.

“What are you doing over there?” Abigail - short, chubby,  messy dark hair spilling over her shoulders - was resting her arms on the middle fence rail.  Her obviously full diaper sagged between her legs.

“Um, cleaning the shed?” Leah ducked back inside, grabbed her stall cleaning fork, and scooped up the piles of horse manure in record time.

She emerged from the shed, skilfully carrying the manure on the tines of the fork. She still felt shaky and dizzy with anxiety. She walked over to the fence, a little ways down from were Abigail was standing, and flung the poop over at the manure bin on the other side.

“Take your time. It’s not like some of us are desperate for a change.” Abigail’s tone was sarcastic, but she was grinning. Abby was always so damn cheerful that it was almost worse than Hannah’s doe-eyed innocence. But at least she was clever, and not a world champion tattletale like their youngest sister.

“I’m almost done. You can go up to the house if you want.”

“I’ll wait for you.”

Leah turned away so Abigail wouldn’t see the disappointment on her face. Damn it. Well, maybe she could sneak away again before their dad got home…

She stomped back up to the shed, got another scoop full of manure, went back to the fence, and catapulted it over as violently as she could. She got some satisfaction from hearing it thud against the walls of the manure bin. That's exactly what this town was. A giant pile of shit.

She climbed back over the fence, her diaper squishing under her again as she put her weight on the fence rail. As she dropped down, the landing jarred her tummy and set off another wave of cramping.

She put a hand on her stomach, still uncomfortably full even after all that effort. There was nothing for it now, she was not going to get a chance to poop anywhere other than in her diaper today. She tried to push.

Nothing.

Leaning the fork against the fence, she sighed, stood up straight, and pushed her hair out of her face. She walked back up to where her sister was waiting.

She would make it out. She would.

[keith60]

i hope there is going to be more of this story soon 

[D503]

A great start!