Jump to content
LL Medico Diapers and More Bambino Diapers - ABDL Diaper Store

The Potty Draining Chart (The Final Day, Sep 24)


Recommended Posts

2 hours ago, Wannatripbaby said:

omebody needs to call in that ex girlfriend, and fast! 

Seconding this!

  • Like 1
  • Thanks 1
Link to comment
22 hours ago, CDfm said:

Thanks again for the story and the regular updates.  It’s awesome to keep seeing new updates coming. 
Seems like they are quickly running out of options or ideas.  Nicole is fading pretty fast.  Each day brings her one or two more steps towards becoming a baby.  At this point I am wondering how long it’s going to be before she is unable to eat adult foods or drink anything other than formula. 
I will be looking for the next update. 

Who's baby?

  • Like 1
Link to comment
On 9/6/2023 at 5:47 PM, CDfm said:

Thanks again for the story and the regular updates.  It’s awesome to keep seeing new updates coming. 
Seems like they are quickly running out of options or ideas.  Nicole is fading pretty fast.  Each day brings her one or two more steps towards becoming a baby.  At this point I am wondering how long it’s going to be before she is unable to eat adult foods or drink anything other than formula. 
I will be looking for the next update. 

I don't normally get to post this fast because I typically post stuff, roughly, as fast as I can write it - this is a special case where I wrote the whole dang story and am now posting it after the fact. I'm liking how it's going, though it's not exactly sustainable. 

On 9/7/2023 at 9:02 AM, Wannatripbaby said:

Somebody needs to call in that ex girlfriend, and fast! 

On 9/7/2023 at 11:03 AM, YourFNF said:

Seconding this!

Good luck to her! 

On 9/7/2023 at 10:42 AM, thedman said:

More than a week left on the chart?

Now we need to see more of the chart than what we get on the cover art

Yup - that was deliberate, putting partial spoilers on the art but keeping the second half a mystery. :D

On 9/7/2023 at 4:02 PM, Eagle0769 said:

Who's baby?

*Insert Terrible Dr. Who Joke* 

On 9/7/2023 at 5:50 PM, keith60 said:

good story 

Thank you!

...

Day 7

 

Bonk.

Nicole felt her head bounce off against something solid and blinked awake, confused. She sometimes rolled into the wall while she slept, but this didn’t feel like bumping her head against the wall, more like a table leg.

Blinking awake, she took in her surroundings, and was so alarmed that she sat upright.

She wasn’t in her room anymore.

The walls were a different color, so that a mural of baby animals was on one side, and glow-in-the-dark star stickers were adhered to the ceiling. Where her dresser had once been was now a scaled-up changing table, big enough to support her through diaper changes, and in place of her bookshelf was a shelf full of toys and plushies.

But most noticeable of all, her bed was gone; she’d woken up in a solid, framed crib.

The four sides were made of wooden bars, secure enough to stop her from getting through them, and a large mobile spun overhead, gently turning so that plastic toys moved in a hypnotic pattern.

Clambering up, Nicole grabbed the sides of the crib with both hands, clambering awkwardly over it. The bars were high enough that she couldn’t easily push off with her feet, and without vertical rungs, she had to flail her legs and struggle to get over. As her weight shifted, she lost her grip, falling onto the floor outside the crib with a heavy thump.

“Nicole?”

Vanessa’s voice carried from across the hall, and in a second, she opened the door and came inside, to find Nicole on the floor. Feeling a bit dizzy from the fall, Nicole sat up.

“Uh… hi, V,” she said, blushing. “My room…”

She was about to say, ‘My room disappeared’, but as she looked around, she realized it wasn’t quite true. The dimensions were the same, the little corner next to her closet that stuck out to make room for an air vent was the same, the window frame, the placement of the door to the hall–it all matched. Even the camcorder Vanessa had set up was gone, replaced with a brightly colored plastic baby monitor; the paired receiver screen sitting right next to the camera.

Her room hadn’t gone away, it’d been changed to match her new clothes.

“Yeah, you’re telling me,” Vanessa said, looking around. “Your chart shows a doodle of a crib on it–I’m guessing this is what it was referring to. Are you okay, though?”

“Yeah, I just…feww,” Nicole admitted. “I couldn’t get out otherwise.”

Looking between the crib and Nicole, Vanessa frowned, then reached over and fiddled with a latch. Undramatically, the side of the crib swung out like a gate, making it easy to get inside.

“Oh,” Nicole said, feeling stupid. “Um…”

Sniffing the air, Vanessa changed subjects. “Smells like you need a change–I’ll go make breakfast while you get cleaned up, okay?”

Nicole blushed–she had noticed her accident, but barely thought anything of it, already used to the sensation of a dirty diaper. “Um…thanks. I’ll go…yeah…do that.” She began her waddle to the door, in a rush to get clean and put these new discoveries behind her.

She stripped out of her soiled diaper, eyeing the toilet enviously–she just wanted to be able to sit down and use it like a grown u–(Like I’d been able to before.)

(I’m still a grown up,) she reminded herself, disturbed at the new direction her thoughts had taken. (Did…did that come from me?)

The new fear worried around and around in her thoughts. She was losing control of herself everywhere–her potty training, her voice, her environment–but the one thing that’d been protected so far was her mind. If she couldn’t even trust her thoughts, that cast the curse of her potty training chart in a whole new light.

She tried to think it through, but once the fear had set in, she couldn’t logic it away. After all–if her thoughts couldn’t be trusted, how could she trust her own logic?

Drying off and getting into a fresh diaper, Nicole settled on just a robe, too anxious to get dressed properly before talking to Vanessa.

Her roommate picked up on the anxiety right away, looking up from the stovetop. “What’s wrong? Did something else change?”

“I–I don’t know,” Nicole admitted. “Erm–when I was in the bathwoom, I thought about trying to use the toilet like a ‘gwown up’. As in, somefing distinct from what I am. I’m worried it’s getting into my head.”

“Oh,” Vanessa said, nodding seriously. “I see the concern. Have you noticed anything else like that?”

Nicole shook her head. “No, but–would I? Could I even tell?”

Pursing her lips, Vanessa didn’t respond right away.

“If it’s gettin’ into my head,” Nicole continued, “If my bwain is–if I’m actually turning into a baby, or if it’s making me go crazy, I mean…I don’t want to wake up every morning wondering how much of me is still weft.”

“Okay, I…” Vanessa chewed on the thought for a moment. While she thought, she poured a mug of coffee for Nicole; Black, no sugar, in her favorite pea-pod mug. “I have an idea. Can you try something with me?”

Nicole wasn’t so confident, but nodded. “Sure.”

“Just answer a few questions. What’re you wearing?” Vanessa asked.

“A…um, a diaper,” Nicole said, blushing.

Vanessa nodded, thoughtful. “And what’s the thing in the bathroom that you sit on when you have to go?”

“A toiwet,” Nicole confirmed.

“What do you call a glass or plastic object with a nipple on top that someone can drink milk out of?”

“A baby bottwe. Bottwe. Bottle.” Nicole said. “Some of this’s hawd to say.”

“And you’ve answered them all like I’d expect a grown-up to,” Vanessa explained. “No toddler language, just a bit of a lisp. You’re still in there.”

Frowning, Nicole asked, “Then…why did I think of ‘grown ups’?”

“Because that’s the language we’d use anyways,” Vanessa shrugged. “I’d say, “Big kids are potty trained,” but I wouldn’t normally say, “Adults are potty trained,” because it doesn’t come up in context. It’s like how you might call a child’s parent, ‘Dad’, even though that parent isn’t your dad.”

Nicole didn’t know if she totally trusted that explanation, but she did trust Vanessa, and if Vanessa thought she was fine, Nicole wouldn’t question things further. “Thanks.”

“Of course,” Vanessa said. “Now–pancakes or waffles?”

 

...

Woah-oh, we're halfway there, 
Woah-oh, Nicole needs mommy's care,
She doesn't need a diaper, she swears,
Woah-oh, Nicole needs mommy's caaare!

Support the author (me) on Patreon and get early access to my original stories for just a couple bucks a month!

https://www.patreon.com/PeculiarChangeling

https://subscribestar.adult/peculiarchangeling

  • Like 16
  • Thanks 2
Link to comment
  • PeculiarChangeling changed the title to The Potty Draining Chart (Day 7, updated Sept 8)

Great chapter.  
Reading this my thought were, will she continue to regress or be further effected by this entity if she were to leave the apartment?  I know it will make her use her diaper but was that something that was done while in the appointment and it continues to happen even if she leaves.  If she leaves will she eventually get back some of the things she is loosing like speech and her potty training? 
I am looking forward to seeing what happens next. 

Link to comment
20 hours ago, PeculiarChangeling said:

She tried to think it through, but once the fear had set in, she couldn’t logic it away. After all–if her thoughts couldn’t be trusted, how could she trust her own logic?

Sounds like somebody didn't experience enough religious trauma growing up to prepare her for this. 🤣

Link to comment
On 9/8/2023 at 11:31 PM, Zylo1893 said:

Would be funny if family came over to give an apartment warming gift to see all the craziness.

Oh geeze, that'd be pretty awkward!

 

On 9/9/2023 at 12:43 AM, CDfm said:

Great chapter.  
Reading this my thought were, will she continue to regress or be further effected by this entity if she were to leave the apartment?  I know it will make her use her diaper but was that something that was done while in the appointment and it continues to happen even if she leaves.  If she leaves will she eventually get back some of the things she is loosing like speech and her potty training? 
I am looking forward to seeing what happens next. 

That's a really good question - If only you could talk to the girls and explain the idea, they might have a shot at beating this thing. ;) 

On 9/9/2023 at 9:49 AM, YourFNF said:

CDfm raises a good point!

Agreed!

On 9/9/2023 at 4:19 PM, Wannatripbaby said:

Sounds like somebody didn't experience enough religious trauma growing up to prepare her for this. 🤣

Oof, mood :P

 

...

Day 8

 

 

(Don’t worry about it.) Nicole told herself, repeating the words in her head like a prayer. (Don’t worry about it. Don’t worry about it.)

She worried anyways, because no amount of silent hope could ease her anxiety.

It was her first day back to work since her lisp had developed. She had to be careful about every word she spoke–ensuring she said the right words, focusing on how to pronounce them. Speech had become a chore, but she didn’t operate phones, and she didn’t have any meetings coming up. She could do most of her job without talking, she’d just have to power through the few bits of conversation that were unavoidable.

What worried her more was the doodle on the potty training chart she’d seen that morning. Storm clouds for day and night, of course; she’d lost all hope of making it to the potty, at least until they could get this curse resolved. No, the new fear came from the sketch, which still managed to perfectly replicate Vanessa’s art style, and showed Nicole sweating in distress in front of a toilet.

Nicole didn’t totally get it, but she hadn’t had much time to puzzle it out, either–there was just enough time to strip out of her soggy bedtime diaper and get work clothes on before rushing out the door.

Not knowing was worse than anything. She could guess, but her guesses hadn’t been consistent so far–would the toilet attack her? Could it just be the final nail in the coffin for her potty training, an indication that she’d never make it again?

Or was it something far, far worse, something she couldn’t even think of?

She got off the bus and waddled into work. This part, she could do–her business-casual dress hid the puffy diaper that’d replaced her panties, her purse had three fresh diapers and plenty of wipes stashed inside, and a few polite ‘Hello’s were all it took to get to her desk and start working.

To any casual observer, they’d think nothing was wrong. She could still pass for an adult, if–

(No, I am an adult. I can still pass for someone who’s not cursed.) Nicole took the time to mentally correct herself, to ensure she didn’t slip into thinking of herself as a baby.

She managed to be stealthy thus far, and there was no reason that couldn’t continue. Nobody at the office had to know that her last successful attempt to use the toilet had been days ago.

Nicole got through the early morning hours smoothly. Conversations, when they couldn’t be avoided, were bypassed with lots of nodding, and when she did need to speak, she hid her pauses and concentration by clearing her throat or finding other ways to disguise the lapses. Big words were getting harder–she still held all her technical knowledge in her head, but explaining it verbally took more thought, or the use of synonyms rather than proper words.

But–with effort–she did it. She passed herself off as unscathed, as potty trained, as an adult capable of operating in society.

At least, until just before lunch. She felt the pressure just moments before it happened, and glanced around surreptitiously–nobody was looking at her, thankfully. She still blushed, feeling herself push muck into the seat of her diaper, a tidal wave Nicole was helpless to stop.

Saving her work, she got to her feet, glancing around. She’d just need to get changed before anyone noticed the smell–no big deal.

Waddling across the office floor, she stepped into the women’s room, and–

(Oh god, no, no–)

Sitting next to the normal trash bin, under the sink, was a sturdy table covered in waterproof plastic, plus a new bin with a secure lid. Over it, a handwritten paper sign had been taped to the wall.

‘Please dispose of all incontinence products in the sealed bin - thanks, Management’

They knew.

Everyone knew.

Her heart dropped into her stomach, realizing that all her efforts of stealth had gone to waste. Everyone in the office–at least, everyone with access to the women’s room–had pieced it together, to the point that they’d installed a pail and a changing table in the bathroom just for her dirty diapers.

“Maybe–” she said aloud, shaking her head. “Maybe it’s from the chart. Like, it changed my room, why couldn’t it change this room too? That’s it–nobody knows, it just appeared here from magic.”

Staring at the… she had to call it what it was, the diaper pail, Nicole didn’t know if she believed her own excuse or not.

She just had to hope, and in the meantime, she had a dirty diaper to change. And she flatly refused to use a changing table, not when any of her coworkers could walk in at any moment. She would use a stall, where she had privacy.

Walking to the nearest stall, she pushed open the door and–her heart rate spiked and she stumbled back, squeaking out a terrified, “Shit!”

The stall was the same as it’d always been, just a porcelain toilet and a roll of toilet paper on the side, but the sight of it sent a shock of paranoia through her. Inching towards the piece of bathroom furniture, she could just imagine it attacking her–a monster coming up from the pipes, or just dragging her down into the water.

She stared for a moment, then slammed the stall door closed. She just couldn’t trap herself in a confined space with that…

Thing.

She tried the other stall, but her reaction was the same–she just couldn’t stand the thought of being near a–toilet–for more than a second.

Which meant…

Sucking up her anxiety, she hopped up onto the changing table. There weren’t that many people in the office; as long as she was quick, she wouldn’t be caught. Balling up her old diaper and sliding it away, she attacked the muck on her thighs liberally with wipes, got clean, and pulled on a fresh diaper, slapping down the tapes and yanking up her pants.

As she dropped to the floor and reached to pick up her diaper, though, she heard the door handle click. In a rush, she threw open the pail and tossed her diaper in, releasing the yucky garment just before her coworker walked inside.

They made awkward eye contact for a moment, and she prayed that they hadn’t seen what she’d just been throwing away. The bathroom certainly smelled pretty bad, but hopefully they’d chalk that up to just normal bathroom activity.

“Um–” Nicole said, stepping aside to the sink to get out of their way. “Go ahead.” She had to catch herself before issuing a meaningless warning: ‘Watch out, there’s a toilet in there.’

 

...

Can things possibly get any worse for our hero?
(Yes.)

https://www.patreon.com/PeculiarChangeling

https://subscribestar.adult/peculiarchangeling

  • Like 19
  • Thanks 1
  • Sad 1
Link to comment
  • PeculiarChangeling changed the title to The Potty Draining Chart (Day 8, updated Sept 11)

Hahaha.  That last sentence had me rolling.  The potty monster got the best of her.  I can’t imagine how hard it must be for her to maintain that level of concentration to prevent saying or doing anything to give herself away.  Then with the relief of getting away with changing a messy diaper she let her guard down just enough to give it up.  
 

Great job.  I am looking forward to seeing more. 

Link to comment

Oh wow, love this slow humiliating warping of reality and a public changing table! Of course the women now must know - is it the new office gossip amongst the men as well or is it just something that's always been there since Nicole started?

Link to comment

So fun fact, I actually had this happen to me at an office job x33 like I had a designated bathroom that had a single occupancy limit I used to change myself on breaks cuz I'm unpottytrained and one day, I came in for a change and I saw that EXACT👏SAME👏SIGN on one of the industrial sized trash cans and I can't describe the emotions I felt when I first saw it ... mostly shock. Thankfully no one ever walked in on me during the process, or I'd have had to quit right then and there out of sheer embarrassment.

Also her response to the potty is identical to me as well cuz I have had a phobia of toilets for years (not a joke). I've never directly related so much to a protagonist in one of these stories x33 can't wait to see how far it goes!!

  • Like 1
Link to comment
On 9/11/2023 at 8:35 PM, CDfm said:

Hahaha.  That last sentence had me rolling.  The potty monster got the best of her.  I can’t imagine how hard it must be for her to maintain that level of concentration to prevent saying or doing anything to give herself away.  Then with the relief of getting away with changing a messy diaper she let her guard down just enough to give it up.  
 

Great job.  I am looking forward to seeing more. 

Truly, nothing is scarier than... the potty monster! 

On 9/11/2023 at 9:23 PM, D503 said:

Oh wow, love this slow humiliating warping of reality and a public changing table! Of course the women now must know - is it the new office gossip amongst the men as well or is it just something that's always been there since Nicole started?

The slow burn humiliation is one of my favorite parts of this one ^^

On 9/12/2023 at 1:50 AM, Vampers said:

So fun fact, I actually had this happen to me at an office job x33 like I had a designated bathroom that had a single occupancy limit I used to change myself on breaks cuz I'm unpottytrained and one day, I came in for a change and I saw that EXACT👏SAME👏SIGN on one of the industrial sized trash cans and I can't describe the emotions I felt when I first saw it ... mostly shock. Thankfully no one ever walked in on me during the process, or I'd have had to quit right then and there out of sheer embarrassment.

Also her response to the potty is identical to me as well cuz I have had a phobia of toilets for years (not a joke). I've never directly related so much to a protagonist in one of these stories x33 can't wait to see how far it goes!!

That sounds mortifying - I'll be happy to live the experience through vicarious enjoyment of fiction, thank you very much! 

On 9/12/2023 at 8:50 AM, Wannatripbaby said:

Good thing they didn't put the changing table inside one of the stalls. 😅😱

"M-m-maybe this dirty diaper isn't so bad." 🤣

That'd just be cruel! :P

 

...

Day 9

 

“V?”

Vanessa blinked awake, bleary eyed and thoughts still thick from dreamland. “Huh?”

“V!”

The voice came from outside her room, echoing across the hall. Vanessa sat up, wiping at her eyes to clear away sleepiness. She hadn’t set her alarm–she was off work that morning and typically slept in late when she could–so the early awakening surprised her.

“Vanessa! Help!”

That, she couldn’t ignore. Toppling out of bed, Vanessa scrambled to her roommate’s rescue. Throwing open the door to Nicole’s nursery, she saw her friend on the verge of tears. Her best friend’s diaper clearly needed changing from how it drooped and the smell that saturated her room, but it didn’t seem like that was the source of her distress–she was holding onto the bars of her crib like a prisoner begging for release.

“What’s wrong, Nic?” Vanessa asked, walking over. “What changed?”

“I can’t–” Nicole sniffed, wiping at her sniffling nose with her arm. A little snot came away, she didn’t seem to notice. “I can’ get da bars open, the latch is stuck. I’m trapped!”

Vanessa stepped back, reaching out and pressing the latch. The crib opened normally, side gate swinging out so Nicole could leave. “It–nothing happened,” she said. “The latch works fine.”

“It didn’t!” Nicole snapped, her teary eyes turning a little more red. “It wouldn’–why didn’ it work for me?”

“You were probably just stressed and fumbling,” Vanessa said, excusing the issue for the moment. “Do you need help getting ready for work?”

“No.” Nicole shook her head, looking rattled from the brief captivity. “I can’ do it myself. I wan’a do it myself.”

With her roommate’s lisp, Vanessa wasn’t sure if Nicole had really said, ‘I can’, or if she’d actually admitted the truth–’I can’t’. Either way, she shrugged, she wasn’t going to argue with Nicole while she was this flustered. “Ok. Let me know if you change your mind.”

Turning, she walked out of the room, pausing to glance at the new doodle on the chart. Storm clouds, day and night. No surprise there, Nicole’s potty training was long gone at this point. Below them, though, was a doodle of Nicole–sitting in a diaper, smudged and dirty, stink lines wafting off her. She was holding a square block in her hand, looking at a box with several differently-shaped holes, as though uncertain what she was supposed to do next–and to really emphasize things, a big question mark floated over her head.

Vanessa didn’t try to guess what that meant. She thought she already knew.

Eighteen minutes.

The bus schedule worked out in such a way that, if Nicole missed her bus, she would be eighteen minutes late. It’d only ever happened once before, in the whole time she’d been employed at her job.

Or, twice now, because even changing her diaper as quickly as possible, slapping down the tapes and rushing out the door without even eating breakfast, she’d still missed her bus. Being stuck in her crib had cost her too much time, and there just wasn’t a fast way to clean up a poopy diaper.

She’d made it in, though, and made it to her desk. She’d make it through another day. If anyone asked, it’d just been a rough night and she overslept, no need to explain that she’d been late because she had to change her diaper after being stuck inside her crib.

(But nobody will notice. Right?)

Nicole told herself that lie through the morning work, handling problems that’d come up overnight and generally keeping herself busy. As long as she had a job to do, she didn’t need to think about what was happening to her…even if she kept making typos and had to refill her coffee three times because she kept knocking it over–at least she had that one solace, caffeine, to keep her going when it felt overwhelming.

Just after lunch, her facade shattered.

She didn’t even make it back to her desk before her boss intercepted her, speaking five words that sent Nicole’s anxiety into a spiral. “See me in my office.”

Nicole followed, she had no good excuse to delay. Jean shut the door behind her, walking over to her desk. Uncertain and afraid, Nicole just stood there.

“We need to talk about your performance,” Jean said. “Nicole–I’ll be frank. Your work has been slipping horribly. You’re distracted, you came in late today, you’re clearly avoiding letting anyone see you while you work, and–”

Her nose wrinkled, and she paused. Nicole flushed pink, raising her hands to cover her mouth.

“Nicole…” Jean said, shaking her head in a gesture resembling maternal disappointment. “Please tell me you didn’t forget to change your diaper during your lunch break.”

(No,) Nicole thought. (No, no, no…) “I’m not wearin’ diapees!” she exclaimed, shaking her head in mortified terror, as though the lie would hide anything. A moment later, a worse realization struck her–she’d just called them, ‘Diapees’ in front of her boss. (Nononono–)

“I don’t have any issue with whatever medical condition you’re dealing with,” Jean said. “Incontinence isn’t something that I would judge you for, and neither is a lisp–and please don’t feel the need to lie. Once I realized you weren’t sneaking off to the bathroom to use your phone, that cleared a lot up for me. I had hoped that installing the changing table and bin in the women’s room would be helpful for you, too, and show that we didn’t have any issues with your new needs.”

Face turning redder and redder, Nicole’s worldview collapsed. She hadn’t been stealthy at all–everyone had known. Jean had known. They’d just been too polite to say anything.

“But,” Jean continued. “I expect basic hygiene from my employees. A medical condition doesn’t excuse you from being a nuisance and distraction around the office.”

Nicole shook her head, taking a step back. (They all–they all know.)

“And I have a functioning nose–You had already soiled yourself by eleven this morning, when I came by to get your TPS reports, and I can tell you still haven’t bothered to get changed. I don’t believe for one second that you didn’t notice, and that is unacceptable.” Her tone wasn’t cruel or mocking–Jean spoke professionally, not trying to belittle Nicole at all. It was a simple statement of fact; Nicole was too helpless to be treated as an adult.

Because Jean was wrong about one thing: Nicole genuinely, truly hadn’t noticed her accident.

“I–” she stammered. “I’ll–I’m going to go get changies.”

“Do that,” Jean said, “and then go home for the day. I expect better from you tomorrow.”

Nicole’s whole body was shaking as she staggered into the bathroom. She got herself changed–barely. The tapes didn’t seem to stick right, and even after using a dozen wipes, she still never felt clean.

It was all she could do before wandering outside, trembling, to wait for a bus ride to get home.

Vanessa came home to find her roommate on the couch. She’d only been out for a few hours, and hadn’t expected Nicole home until well after five, which told her a few things. She’d been sent home, or she’d left early, or she’d been fired. Either way, Nicole was having a bad day.

“You okay?” Vanessa asked, walking over to sit by her friend.

“They know,” Nicole said.

Vanessa swallowed, though she could guess. “Who?”

Nicole wiped her nose, and just like that morning, didn’t seem aware of the mess she was making of herself. “Everyone. Heck, they know more than I do–I…I…I made poo–” Catching herself, she focused on her words, trying to phrase things in a dignified way. “I used my diaper for number two, and I didn’t even notice. For hours. I had lunch in the break room around everyone.”

“Oh…” Vanessa said, reaching down to give Nicole’s hand a squeeze. “Hey, Nicole. Come here, it’s okay, I’m here, I can...”

She felt wetness.

Glancing down, she saw that Nicole’s jeans had identical crescent-shaped wet stains on them, as well as a few trickles that ran deeply down the denim. Nicole’s gaze followed V’s, and when she saw the leaks, her eyes went huge.

“Oh no–” Nicole leapt to her feet, reaching down, struggling with the button. It was as though if she got the pants off, it would somehow reset time and prevent the leak from having ever happened. In her panic and uncertainty, though, the button wouldn’t budge. She fumbled, fingers slipping over it, growing more and more desperate by the second.

“Nicole, shhh,” Vanessa said, standing and reaching to touch Nicole’s hand again. “Please, let me help?”

Nicole sniffed, but nodded, pulling her hands away. Vanessa undid the button, pulled the zip, and slipped Nicole’s jeans away, revealing the diaper beneath.

She’d expected to see something sodden and soaked, but in fact it was pretty dry–the shapes on the front had distorted a little, but weren’t faded. The leak hadn’t come from overuse, but from bad application–the tapes on one side were all crooked, and on the other, one hadn’t been stuck down at all.

“Nicole,” Vanessa said, quietly. “You put this on all wrong, it’s not going to help like this.”

Sniffling, her tears threatening to turn into a full sob, Nicole said, “I know. I know, and I can’t…”

“Do you want me to help you?” Vanessa asked, squeezing her friend’s hand.

Nicole nodded. Pulling her hand, Vanessa led her friend to the nursery. She didn’t try to speed things along, only offering gentle guidance and support. She didn’t want to make this feel weird, or condescending–she was just offering comfort to a friend.

Sliding her hands under Nicole’s armpits, Vanessa gave her friend a boost and got her up onto the changing table, where she laid back, making her diaper accessible.

“I think we can still use this diaper,” Vanessa said. “It’s barely damp.”

Nicole nodded, while Vanessa undid the tapes, looking for what she suspected to find. Sure enough–Nicole’s bottom was dirty. Not filthy from an accident, but she looked like she hadn’t really wiped up during her last change, she was in desperate need of a good cleaning.

So, Nicole took wipes from the warmer and got to work. She started on the upper thighs, gently working her way down, doing her best so that her sweet friend wouldn’t get a rash or just feel gross down there.

Nicole crossed her arms over her chest, cheeks puffed out in resigned embarrassment.

Noticing a bit of redness, Vanessa paused. “Hey, Nic? It looks like you’re starting to get a rash. Is it OK if I put some cream on you to help with that?”

Hesitating, Nicole thought about it, seemingly reassured by Vanessa’s simple question. She’d asked, because no matter what was happening to her, Nicole still deserved to be in charge of her body.

“Yes…yes, pwease,” she mumbled, nodding.

Vanessa smiled, reaching for the cream. “Of course.” She rubbed it in tenderly, and finished it off with a sprinkle of baby powder to keep everything dry and irritation-free.

“Thanks, V,” Nicole said, slowly, forming her words carefully. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Me too,” Vanessa said, taping the diaper back up. “Me too.”

 

...

Support the author, if you want to, even though I post most of my work for free! :D

https://www.patreon.com/PeculiarChangeling

https://subscribestar.adult/peculiarchangeling

  • Like 14
Link to comment

Just when you think it can’t possibly get worse.  Pop, like a slap in the face and just like that it’s so so much worse.  I almost expected her boss to offer to change her.  I guess if she is going to continue working there she will need someone to help.  Question I have is how is Nicole able to remember how or what to do at work but can’t change her diaper.  Next she won’t be able to dress herself and I am sure this thing is going to be physically changing all her clothes into clothes designed for babies and not young adults. 
You are continuing to do a fantastic job with the story and I am looking forward to seeing what comes next. 

  • Like 1
Link to comment

I honestly feel so bad for this girl... Nothing on this level but I struggle a lot with self care and it's so embarrassing and frustrating especially when it's invisible or doesn't have an obvious cause at first glance. I'm worried she's going to wind up canned soon and good luck explaining this to social security. Assuming it would even cover her half of rent..

Link to comment
On 9/15/2023 at 12:25 AM, PeculiarChangeling said:

“Please tell me you didn’t forget to change your diaper during your lunch break.”

Oh wow! I did not expect that! Apparently the Potty Chart's powers do in fact extend beyond the borders of the apartment. 

And I was certainly not expecting Vanessa to be quite this caring and helpful, at least this soon. Being a good friend is one thing, but wiping someone's ass is something entirely different. 🤣 I wonder if that was purely her natural tendancy or if the Chart is affecting her too? Will she notice/question it? 

  • Like 1
  • Thanks 1
Link to comment
On 9/14/2023 at 11:56 PM, CDfm said:

Just when you think it can’t possibly get worse.  Pop, like a slap in the face and just like that it’s so so much worse.  I almost expected her boss to offer to change her.  I guess if she is going to continue working there she will need someone to help.  Question I have is how is Nicole able to remember how or what to do at work but can’t change her diaper.  Next she won’t be able to dress herself and I am sure this thing is going to be physically changing all her clothes into clothes designed for babies and not young adults. 
You are continuing to do a fantastic job with the story and I am looking forward to seeing what comes next. 

I don't know if she can remember how or what to do at work - Jean did comment on her poor performance, after all. She's slipping in more ways than one. 

On 9/15/2023 at 9:19 AM, YourFNF said:

I honestly feel so bad for this girl... Nothing on this level but I struggle a lot with self care and it's so embarrassing and frustrating especially when it's invisible or doesn't have an obvious cause at first glance. I'm worried she's going to wind up canned soon and good luck explaining this to social security. Assuming it would even cover her half of rent..

❤️ 

On 9/15/2023 at 9:46 AM, Bonsai said:

Who does manufacture those cute potty draining charts?

I assume that, in small letters in the bottom left corner, you can read PecChan.Ltd, formerly known as LonRifl.GmbH

Truly, I stand on the shoulders of Amazons. :D 

8 hours ago, Wannatripbaby said:

Oh wow! I did not expect that! Apparently the Potty Chart's powers do in fact extend beyond the borders of the apartment. 

And I was certainly not expecting Vanessa to be quite this caring and helpful, at least this soon. Being a good friend is one thing, but wiping someone's ass is something entirely different. 🤣 I wonder if that was purely her natural tendancy or if the Chart is affecting her too? Will she notice/question it? 

Do they? Or is Jean just observing what's been happening? She's got a functioning nose, and Nicole isn't half so sneaky as she thinks she is. 😏

...

Day 10

 

Alphabet blocks were in Nicole’s thoughts, and onesies were in her wardrobe.

The training chart on her door showed the blocks–all stacked in a jumble, spelling out nothing in particular. Vanessa had taken a glance at it and said that together they formed the words, ‘Baby Nicole’, but all Nicole could see was a jumble of letters.

She worried what that meant.

They’d woken up early. Vanessa had suggested the night before that they get a jump on things, so she had plenty of time to change Nicole and get her dressed without missing the bus. A lot of her clothes had changed overnight, but she still had some plain jeans and T shirts that were apparently juvenile enough to not be affected by the magic, and she was in too much of a hurry to mourn the lost fashion accessories.

Nicole also had to admit, an extra set of hands getting ready for the day was nice–and having Vanessa wake her up had been particularly helpful, because Nicole hadn’t remembered to plug her phone in before getting into her crib the night before, and her alarm hadn’t gone off.

Now, she was nursing the phone on a charger, waiting for it to boot up, wondering what had been taken from her that morning.

Her phone chirped to life, the startup song jingled, and she looked down–three percent battery, it still needed to charge, and…

“Poopie,” she said aloud, her words defaulting to a toddler swear. Even getting up early, she’d still be late–the clock read eight something-or-other, and her bus left at eight fifteen. She had to run.

“Gotta go, V!” she yelped, leaping from the couch and sprinting to the door. “Gonna be wate!”

Vanessa walked out a few moments later, too slow to catch her friend’s exit.

“Late?” she asked aloud, checking her own phone for the time. “It’s only like eight minutes past seven, but...guess she wanted to get ahead of things.”

Nicole sprinted up to the bus stop, heart pounding as she leaned against the signpost. (The bus, where was the–) looking around, she saw it coming up the road, still a couple blocks away. She’d made it, barely, but she’d take the win.

Withdrawing her phone for the bus pass, she frowned. The screen was black again, it hadn’t charged enough to survive her mad dash to the bus stop. Instead of using her prepaid app, she’d have to buy a ticket.

Fumbling for cash, she watched the bus pull up, immediately noticing that something felt off. For one, the bus had a different driver today, a man in his forties who must have been subbing in for the typical driver on her route. Stepping on, she continued to dig in her purse, fishing out a few crinkled bills and some change.

“Erm…” she said, looking between the pay terminal and the money in her hand. The pay terminal had a bunch of numbers printed on it, but they seemed to be floating off the label, dancing before her eyes. A six, and a one, and… a five? So it was six dollars and fifteen cents for a bus ticket?

That didn’t seem right to her, but she hadn’t bought a regular ticket in a while, she always had her phone. Looking down at her money, though, she realized she only had…

“Uh…”

“Lady,” the driver said, “Are you getting on or what?”

“Yeah, I just…” she tried to count. She had a few bills… one bill for each finger. Five bills. Ok, so she still needed a dollar, and–

Lady,” the driver insisted. “It’s a buck sixty five, just put the money in the terminal.”

She swallowed. She’d read it wrong–that price made more sense, though. A buck sixty five, so one bill, and then…quarters. Three quarters? No, too much–

“I can’t–” she stammered, holding out her handful of wadded money to the driver. “Help?”

He sighed and rolled his eyes. “Friggin’ kids, it must be that new math,” he grumbled, reaching out to take the appropriate currency. “Look, lady. A dollar, two quarters, a nickel, and dime. Got it?”

“I’m not a kid,” she mumbled defensively.

“Coulda fooled me,” he said, dropping the coins and inserting the bill for her. “Take your seat. You know your stop?”

“Mhmm,” she said, blushing as she hurried to the back of the bus.

He drove away, and she sat back, stunned and disoriented. Nothing felt right. She couldn’t read, and…that explained the baby blocks.

But she still could read. She recognized letters, right? So she’d just have to take things one letter at a time. She could do that. She practiced on the LED sign reading out the next stop.

“B,” she said aloud. “A, R, R, Y. Barry. D, R, I, V, E… Barry Drive? But…”

The Barry Drive stop wasn’t anywhere near her office, it was practically in the opposite direction. Maybe she’d read it wrong–but that was almost as scary as if she’d read it right.

Rushing to the front of the bus, she pulled the signal indicating her need to get off. The driver pulled over, and she stepped out, looking around–she’d ended up somewhere by downtown. Only a mile from her office, a walk she could make in twenty minutes, but she didn’t understand how.

Catching someone waiting for a different bus, she asked, “Excuse…me…my phone is dead, can you pwease tell me the time?”

The woman hesitated, caught off guard by Nicole’s lisp, but glanced at her own phone. “It’s just past seven thirty.”

(Oh,) Nicole realized. (Okay. I left early, I got on the wrong bus.) Exhaling in relief, she said, “Thankies.”

“You’re welcome?”

That wasn’t too bad. She’d just need to catch a new bus, or walk. She could make that walk in time, and there was a thorough map posted by the stop. All she had to do was…

Read the map and find a route.

Just finding where she was on the map took her ten minutes, by which point she was sniffling in frustration. Tracing the road with a finger to where she knew her office was helped, but she couldn’t make out the tiny letters spelling the streets, and even after getting a stranger to read them for her, matching the names in her head to the street signs above intersections was downright impossible–there were just too many other letters floating in her vision.

She got lost four times, and had to find a public restroom to change her diaper once. It took a good Samaritan stranger noticing her distress and giving her simple, direct instructions–‘Start walking down this road and turn when you see the big fountain with a mermaid’–that she managed to get to work.

Gazing up at the office building, Nicole swallowed. She wasn’t that late, was she? Only a few hours.

(Maybe someone covered for me.)

Swallowing, she stepped inside, took the stairs–she didn’t trust herself on the elevator buttons–and got to her desk, plugged in her phone, and started plugging away at work.

At least she managed to keep herself clean, mostly. She had to proactively check her diaper, and that constant paranoia meant she spent almost as much time nervously sniffing and reaching down to squeeze the padded crotch, but she didn’t have any more unnoticed messy accidents before lunch. She only managed to fill out one report in that time, mouthing out every letter and pecking at the keyboard to type, but it was something.

It didn’t surprise her when Jean intercepted her immediately after lunch, but her heart still sank. Jean’s dubious sniff of the air around Nicole made her feel even smaller, even more helpless–she couldn’t be trusted to keep her diaper clean.

“Let’s go talk in my office,” Jean offered. Nicole meekly followed.

The door shut behind her. “Am I being fired?” she all-but whispered, looking down at her toes.

“We’ll talk about that,” Jean said, walking to her desk and spinning the computer display around for Nicole to see. “Come look at this.”

Nicole walked up, leaning in to look at the report. It was the one she’d filled out before lunch–just some expense sheets. The number at the bottom was really big. “Um…did I file too many enspen… expsen–too much stuff?”

“The–it’s wrong,” Jean snapped, her weariness turning the last word harsh–she hadn’t quite snapped, but she was getting impatient. “Nicole, this is simple addition. How did you add a dozen expenses under a hundred dollars and add them up to be greater than our company’s entire gross sales? How did you not notice?

“I don’t…” Nicole stared, squinting harder. She knew the numbers were wrong, but she couldn’t find the mistake, the letters were just floating off the page.

“And the labels–what even are these?” Jean asked. “‘Snackies’? ‘Choo choo’?”

“Um–um–” Nicole stammered, trying to think, trying to form the words so that she wouldn’t sound like a babbling toddler. “That was…Employee meals… and tram fare.”

“Nicole,” Jean said, sitting down at her desk. “I don’t know what’s wrong with you right now, but it’s clear you’re in no state to work. You’ve got two weeks sick time and eight personal days, after that we’ll need to see if I can convince management to suspend your employment instead of firing you outright.”

Her eyes widened. “You’re not… You pwomise? I’m not fi-fied?”

Jean sighed, almost sadly. “I like you, and you’ve given us good work. Go see a doctor, figure out what’s going on–once you show me you can keep your pants clean and your spelling neat, we’ll get you back to work.” Under her breath, she added, “Do not repeat this outside my office, but if I need to fire you so that you can collect unemployment, tell me. I want you to be OK, Nicole, you’re just…up until this past week, you were a mature, competent adult. I don’t know what you are now.”

Nicole wiped at her eyes with her arm, wet tears sliding down her cheeks. “I…um…fank you…”

“Get help, Nicole.”

Nicole nodded. (Help. Right.)

Taking out her phone, she called Vanessa, choking down her sobs. “V? Are you there?”

“I’m here,” Vanessa’s voice came back, reassuring and solid. “What’s wrong?”

“I… I need a ride.”

...

:( Poor Nicole 

Support the author: 

https://www.patreon.com/PeculiarChangeling

https://subscribestar.adult/peculiarchangeling

  • Like 11
  • Sad 9
Link to comment
  • PeculiarChangeling changed the title to The Potty Draining Chart (Day 10, updated Sept 16)

Wow I feel so bad right now. Poor Nicole I wish a doctor could help but I’m afraid that isn’t going to happen. I don’t know what they can try other than leaving that apartment for a while. She now has a few weeks off so she needs to try getting away from it. 
I can’t wait to see what happens next. 

  • Like 1
Link to comment

Yikes. 🥺 I nearly had a panic attack on her behalf just imagining being in her shoes. 

At least Jean was understanding and she won't have to worry about work anymore. 😅 And hey, maybe after the 14 days the curse will end? She'll be back to normal, right? Right!? 🥺😅

  • Like 1
Link to comment
15 hours ago, PeculiarChangeling said:

Taking out her phone, she called Vanessa, choking down her sobs. “V? Are you there?”

“I’m here,” Vanessa’s voice came back, reassuring and solid. “What’s wrong?”

“I… I need a ride.”

...

:( Poor Nicole 

I'd honestly say it would be better for this poor girl to wind up in something like Foundation custody than be left trying to survive on her own especially in the States. Hopefully there might be some kind of org that knows what the hell is going?

  • Like 1
Link to comment
On 9/16/2023 at 10:27 PM, CDfm said:

Wow I feel so bad right now. Poor Nicole I wish a doctor could help but I’m afraid that isn’t going to happen. I don’t know what they can try other than leaving that apartment for a while. She now has a few weeks off so she needs to try getting away from it. 
I can’t wait to see what happens next. 

Yeah, this one was definitely pretty heavy hitting ❤️ 

13 hours ago, Wannatripbaby said:

Yikes. 🥺 I nearly had a panic attack on her behalf just imagining being in her shoes. 

At least Jean was understanding and she won't have to worry about work anymore. 😅 And hey, maybe after the 14 days the curse will end? She'll be back to normal, right? Right!? 🥺😅

Suuuure, I'm sure that's what will happen! :) :) :) :) :)

12 hours ago, YourFNF said:

I'd honestly say it would be better for this poor girl to wind up in something like Foundation custody than be left trying to survive on her own especially in the States. Hopefully there might be some kind of org that knows what the hell is going?

If nothing else, it would be very funny for this story to suddenly transition to being an SCP file about containing a magical cursed object 🤣

 

 

  • Like 1
Link to comment
  • PeculiarChangeling changed the title to The Potty Draining Chart (The Final Day, Sep 24)

Create an account or sign in to comment

You need to be a member in order to leave a comment

Create an account

Sign up for a new account in our community. It's easy!

Register a new account

Sign in

Already have an account? Sign in here.

Sign In Now
×
×
  • Create New...