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Hello everyone ! This is the third fiction I wrote for Omorashi.org. I wrote it in the first person ; as in my previous story, whether the protagonist is male or female is still up to your own imagination. All characters are 21+. I made my best to avoid grammar or spelling mistakes, and I apologize in advance if any of them escaped my eye. As usual, I would be glad to hear your feedback on the structure, style, and general appeal of the story, whether positive of negative. Happy reading !

May contain: nuts, gluten, desperation, baby diapers, wetting, leaking, alcohol, Supergirl costumes, and bad language

________

“One of the strangest things that happened to me on a drinking night?” I repeated.

I pondered the question for some time, feeling the presence of five curious minds waiting for my answer.

“Hey Max, how about the tale of the Four Red Bulls and the Pampers Diaper?” Nick suggested.

I looked him in the eye, grinned, then gazed at the ceiling. I took a sip of my Gin Tonic and had a small laugh at myself.

“Okay, so there was this one girl called Rebecca…”

***

I had met Rebecca through my friend Steph, in one of those large law school get-togethers. To be honest, our conversation didn’t have much content. She was just really good at banter. This was why very few actually tried to engage conversation with her, although she was gorgeous in most people’s opinion; her acid charm was intimidating if you couldn’t find your way around it. Of course, it probably gets boring in the long-term; but it makes the game really interesting in the short term.

That night, Steph was hosting a Halloween party in her apartment. It was one of those luxurious places with an entire wall made of windows and another wall made of fake bare brick. When coming through the main door, you had direct access to the main living room area. On the far right, a corridor led to the bathroom and bedrooms. On the left, there was a spacious open kitchen with oversized counters.

As soon as I came in, I greeted the people I knew and found my way to the fridge. As usual, I had my own bottle of Kahlúa. I barely had time to prepare a Black Russian and get myself a bowl of peanuts before I heard her voice. Rebecca.

“Hm. You know what they say about guys who drink that stuff, right?”

I rolled my eyes and slowly turned to face the young woman on my right. I instantly recognized the long, red hair, the rare, almost invisible freckles, and the slightly hollow cheeks that gave her such an imperious look. Her smile was defiant, but her gaze was friendly.

“Well, I don’t think we’ve heard the same thing. Nice panda onesie, by the way.” I replied, reaching for a handful of peanuts. She sat back against the counter and put her hands on it, next to her hips.

“Why thank you! Isn’t that an A-grade baby costume?” she looked delighted.

“It is indeed. And it’s a nice excuse to use your binky in public.”

“Yeah, right. Wait until you see Steph!”

And as if she had been summoned by the mere mention her name, Steph danced her way to the kitchen area, her face hidden under the hood of a tiger onesie. She ran towards me to give me a kiss on the cheek.

“Oh shit, look who’s here!” she shouted.

“Whoa, it looks like a baby festival in this place. Only with big, cute babies.”

“And you haven’t seen everything!” Steph added, visibly excited to show off her props. “That’s my binky, that’s my baby bottle….”

“With vodka.” Rebecca whispered, as if it was a secret to anyone.

“And…”

“And?”

She opened the front zipper of her onesie in a long, ceremonious movement, revealing a white tank top and what appeared to be a baby diaper with Sesame Street characters on it. I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Whoa, you really went all the way.”

“It ain’t no baby costume without no nappy, son!” she shouted in the worst African-american accent I had ever heard.

“That’s dedication. Congrats, lady.” I turned towards Rebecca. “You too?”

“Hell no” she laughed. “Unlike some others, I have control over my bladder.”

She received a well-deserved punch on the shoulder, then looked back at me and joined her hands in front of her face.

“So… Will you make me a drink?”

“A drink?”

“Pretty please!”

“What will it be?”

“Tequila and Red Bull. Or Monster. Or whatever has caffeine in it. I just have to go to the bathroom, I’ll be right back!”

I cringed at the order and went to find the ingredients. Not far from the kitchen, there was a small group gathered around a guy with a yellow hazmat suit. He was obviously drinking too much, but I followed my strict non-interference policy; I borrowed a shot of tequila from their bottle and came back to the kitchen. Rebecca was already there.

“That was fast.”

“There were, like, three people in front of the bathroom, and I didn’t feel like waiting. I'm here to drink, dammit!”

“Alright then, here you go.”

I poured in a can of Red Bull I found in the fridge and we clinked glasses. The next hour was pretty standard. We had a few more drinks; there was touching, laughing and not-so-subtle allusions to past sexual encounters.

After a while, we transferred to the living room. I sat down on a beanie bag, with Rebecca on my lap. There were a dozen people sitting around us, sharing stories about the stupid pranks they pulled in law school. They were hilarious to listen to, but after a while I noticed that Rebecca’s legs were pressing against mine every time she laughed. At first I thought it was comfortable for her to do so. It quickly became obvious, however, that she really had to go to the bathroom but didn’t want to miss anything. I thought it would be strange of me to point it out; if she really had to go, she would eventually get up. So, she alternated between pressing her legs together and bouncing them frantically until what I call the “tipping point”.

The tipping point of this story took the form of a random drunk girl looking for friends to do tequila shots with. For some reason, she recognized Rebecca from another party where they had met, and went straight up to us. She explained that her other friends were too weak to follow her drinking, and that she wanted to do shots with anyone willing to.

Without asking for our opinion, she handed us two tall shot glasses that smelled like tequila and tonic. We drank up, and the girl disappeared as fast as she had appeared.

“Okay, I really need to go to the bathroom now.” I heard a slight discomfort in Rebecca’s voice.

“Yeah, that’d be great, I don’t want you to leave a stain on my pants.” Instantly realizing that my words may backfire, I put my index finger on her lips. “Don’t. Just go.”

She gave me an amused look and jogged to the corridor where the bathroom was. I used the occasion to get up, stretch my legs, and go get a glass of water in the kitchen. When I came back, I noticed Rebecca still standing in the corridor, with both her arms and her legs crossed. I went up to her and gave her an interrogative look.

“Some jackass locked himself in the bathroom. They say he’s been throwing up for fifteen minutes now.”

Next to the bathroom door, I noticed someone dressed as Supergirl from the group I had borrowed tequila from. Her legs were firmly pressed together and she looked anxious.

“Wait, is it the Breaking Bad guy in there?” I asked.

“Yeah, his name is Alan. Can you make him come out, please? I swear I can’t hold it anymore.”

I hit the door with my palm a few times.

“Alan, can you hear me?”

“Yeah.”

“When are you planning to get out?”

“Soon, man, soon. I just need to relax for a little while.”

“You’ll relax somewhere else, man. Ladies are waiting here. Come on!” I hit the door again.

It became clear that he wasn’t coming out anytime soon. I turned towards Rebecca; she muttered a long string of insults.

“This sucks. Can you hold it?”

“Of course I can. I’m not a fucking baby.”

“I know, I know.” I nodded, but her body language couldn’t lie. She was getting more desperate by the second.

“Isn’t there a freaking sink of shower elsewhere in this stupid place?” she asked in frustration.

“I don’t think so. Except the kitchen sink, but…”

“Yeah, no way I’m doing that.”

“Outside, maybe? Between two cars?”

“It’s full of people outside, I’m not putting on a stupid show. Just make this jackass come out!”

No matter how long I tried, Alan was answering but not moving. At this point, Rebecca was walking left and right, periodically stopping to grasp the crotch of her panda onesie and yell at the door. The third time she did, Supergirl suddenly froze, letting out a high-pitched gasp. With her eyes widening in terror, her hand rushed between her legs and she ran towards the front door. On the wooden floor where she had been standing two seconds ago, I caught a glimpse of a tiny puddle. That was it for her.

I left my glass on a table and took Rebecca by the arm. She followed me obediently. When we were alone, I massaged my temples and said:

“Look, there’s something you could do.”

“What? What is it?”

“Steph bought diapers for her costume, right?”

“I hope you’re not saying what I think you’re saying.”

“Hey, if you’ve got a better idea, go for it. But right now, it’s either a diaper or your pants, like Supergirl over there.”

The idea made her squirm. She seemed to think intensely, then looked at the floor where the other girl had been standing.

“Screw it, let’s go.”

She kissed me on the cheek, and we rushed towards Steph’s room, locking the door behind us. I opened all the drawers while Rebecca stood in the middle of the room, concentrating as hard as she could to avoid an accident.

I eventually found the bag, and Rebecca unzipped her onesie, revealing a pair of gray panties and a tight, black tank top. The panda fell to her feet. She freed her left foot, but as she was about to remove the other one she let out a desperate moan. I turned around; she was bent over, both hands between her legs. A small trickle found its way through her fingers and down to the carpet.

“Oh my God.” she shouted. “Hurry the fuck up!”

I unfolded one of the diapers and handed it to her. She barely had time; just long enough to hold the diaper against her panties with one hand and fasten the left tape with the other. As she was about to reach for the right tape, there was another long moan, followed by a strong hissing sound. She desperately kept the diaper against herself while I rushed down on my knees to help her.

I just had the time to fasten the second tape. I sat there, watching her close her eyes and clench her teeth. I sat there watching a washed-out, yellow tint expand on the fabric as Rebecca helplessly filled up her diaper; and I sat there watching as the small purple flowers at the bottom of it faded out, one after the other.

“Max, it’s too much, it’s too much.”

I didn’t understand what she meant until the diaper swell up so much that she had to hold it by the sides. After a short-lived attempt to take back control over herself, Rebecca let out a last gasp as the hissing resumed and a steady stream started to run down her leg. She tried to press against the diaper to stop herself, but it only made it worse. No matter how hard you try, I guess there is no clean way to wet yourself.

After five endless seconds, it was over. The hissing subsided, and the silence was only troubled by the sound of irregular dripping on the carpet. Rebecca opened her eyes and stared down at the swollen Pampers forcing her legs apart. She couldn’t believe what had just happened. She looked at me, and out of nowhere we started laughing uncontrollably.

“What the hell was that? Did this really just happen?”

“Yes, and you just demonstrated your 'perfect control' over your bladder.”

“Screw you, it was an accident!”

I sat in front of her and pretended to talk to one of the printed characters.

“Hmmm… Is this little girl’s diaper full? What do you think, Elmo?” I reached and felt its weight with my hand. “I don’t know, it’s hard to tell.”

“Stop it!” she laughed.

“Pardon? Well yes, I do agree, Elmo, someone’s not going to wear big girl panties anytime soon.”

“Max, I swear!”

She tipped me over and put her foot on my chest while she removed the diaper as carefully as she could. Her panties were still dripping. She set the diaper aside and kneeled over me.

“See what you made me do to my big girl panties?”

“Hey, in my defense you were supposed to remove them.” I looked briefly at her underwear. At this point it wasn’t just wet around the crotch; it was drenched all over.

“Shit, I need something else to wear. I really liked them.”

She stood up and brought her panties down. She fetched another diaper from the open drawer, unfolded it, and placed it on my stomach. She kneeled over me again, and fastened the tapes around herself as tight as she could. She smelled like shampoo and fresh sweat.

“Nice costume.” was the only comment I could mutter.

“Thanks, baby. I know I’ve been a bad girl, but I’ll do my best to keep this one dry.”

She leaned over me and gave me a kiss.

 

Edited by Tonyx (see edit history)
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