Alright, I whipped this up in a few hours. It’s an attempt at getting back into writing after focusing on my Magical Girl RPG for the majority of the year. It was based off a prompt given to me by a friend. I didn’t play much with the premise, since I wanted to write something normal to get back into slaving away over words. Might do more one-shots and shorts before getting back to some of the bigger stories I’m working on. Smooth Sailing
Tara bit her lip as the counselor typed something on his computer while all she could do was press her thumbs against one another so as to do at least something and he’d already reprimanded her for making noise. Her throat felt dry, she hadn’t drunk anything today, couldn’t have. He just typed away, only stopping at one point.
“You are aware that the contract’s legally binding.”
“Contract?”
He gave her that look again, like he didn’t know what to do with her. His fingers moved across the keyboard again, then he turned around, grabbed something from the files, papers. He put them in front of her and pointed to a paragraph.
“Uh…” She started, leaning forward to read it.
“It clearly states that we want to ensure the safety and health of all our students. This specific paper, as you were told before, put us in charge of your healthcare. It’s a rare privilege for someone else to clean up your messes. All you had to do in return was make sure to present yourself as a healthy student of ours.”
She squirmed in her sister. “Look, this is a one-time thing, I–“
He lifted his hand, stopping her in her tracks.
“We, as an organization, pride us on training the elite of the world. With all regards, if it hadn’t been for our graciousness you would never have gotten in. No loan, no rent, we provide. In return: You would represent a school of the future. Every student is a symbol. Do you understand that?”
Tara nodded. She did. After finishing her education, she’d gone on to look for a College, found she couldn’t really afford any of them without breaking her back financially. All except a small, albeit well-known one. A magnet for professors and students of a magnitude you couldn’t comprehend. She’d seen children of stars, politicians, big wigs in the economy and people respected in their fields of science. Truth was, she had looked at the sight mostly to fantasize about how awesome her life would be if she ever got a chance. Fantasized until she browsed a little and found a project they did. The formal specifications to get into the project had been laughable, a toddler could manage them, and while the punishments seemed extreme, it was a free education and all you needed to do was, truth be told: To not piss your pants.
Or bed.
“You applied to this school as part of an experiment, and you failed.”
She bit her lip, looked down, beet red. Even a toddler could do it, she thought, so everybody else didn’t struggle as much as she did. Actually, they presumably didn’t struggle at all.
“Word from the cleaners is that this wasn’t a first time deal either.”
And they told on her, she’d done the sheets herself, cleaned them and changed them. No work for them, yet they still told on her. The girl shook her head, though, looking up.
“Please don’t kick me out. I’ll be better.”
He raised his eyebrow at that.
“We gave you several chances to deal with this problem privately, Miss Warren, if you want to stay a part of our student body, you will let us to take charge of things.”
She nodded to that instantly. Going back home wasn’t an option. Her parents had been so glad to see her finally off, it’d break their hearts to see her return. Hell, what respect a potential college degree earned her with her family would be gone and she’d instantly be back to being the black sheep of the family. That couldn’t happen.
His face was unreadable, she was scared, felt a spurt of urine escape into her pants as she sat there, waiting for his judgement. And judge her he did.
The bedwetting had been an on-and-off problem for her since forever, and her bladder tended to give in under stress. She’d gotten better as she grew older, back from the diaper girl she’d been in elementary school to just wearing pull-up style pants in high school, but she regretted to have stated that there were no problems now at all. She had wanted to appear mature, collected, in control. Yet her body had betrayed her from night one. Accidents during the day usually didn’t happen either, but that day was special, though she was sure what little happened wasn’t noticed.
She could continue her studies, which was a big,whooping hurrah, one she intended to celebrate, if only to drink herself into a stupor and forget about the one condition he made. Sadly, after leaving, she found that now she wasn’t just that one poor girl who had trouble understanding basic economical theories, nope, now word was spreading that she was the one project kid that failed a task a young child had no problems with: Keeping her bed dry. How nice, how cool, how great.
It wasn’t that bad an idea anyway, since she was pretty much done for the day anyway. She’d gone to the guy thinking she would have to pack her things and leave for good. Now, back at her apartment, everything had already been prepared.
Which was… Something?
Tara found a package of diapers placed on her bed, and they didn’t even pretend it was a medical thing, no… These were meant to confront her with her failure and mock her for it. Pink things with unicorns and princesses spread across them. And hearts, because why not throw in all the girly stuff. Part one of the new deal was horrible, part two was going to be even worse, she figured. It was half past six, she buried the package under her bed and went off to do some work. Write some stuff, learn some other stuff, fill her empty stomach with homemade cooking.
By the time the number eight arrived on the clock, she was exhausted and laid down on her bed. This was her chance to prove the world wrong. So she pulled down her pants, and the panties, though she did stop to examine the state of them.
“Ugh,” was her only comment, seeing them somewhat damp and with skid marks. Not that it mattered, it’s not like she’d wear them anymore anyway. Being a dignified and responsible adult, she did put on the diapers, though she groaned loudly as she unfolded them and got a glance at them in all their pink, princess-y glory. This was the worst, but she’d manage.
She put herself against her door, with the diaper pressed against her behind and pulled up the front, the padding thick and obvious between her legs.
“Why me…” She muttered as she fastened the tapes as quickly as she could.
This did nothing to lighten the experience. Instead, she was now stuck in diapers for the rest of the night. Moving her legs ever so slightly produced a crinkling sound that pierced the silence of her room worse than a scream. She blushed and put her hand against the door behind her, hoping that nobody had heard. She took a deep breath, realizing that she’d also ignored her bladder except for that small little accident and now it was mentioning her need to go.
“Why me…” She reiterated instantly and went for her pajamas, dull grey things which were comfortable and fit her snuggly.
Too snuggly, now that she had a diaper on. Nevertheless, pressure was mounting and she needed to go quickly.
Her room was in a girl’s only dorm, but most of the other students tended to be out late into the night, often spending their time partying or studying, most often a mixture of both. She’d never been a party girl, usually staying up in front of the computer screen until late night, watching videos on Youtube for cheap thrills. Well, in High School she’d been. Going to a prestigious college meant rising early and often working until late, at least it did for her. She hadn’t been someone who visited libraries or cared much for the world around her. Everybody had told her that economy was easy and you could get lots of jobs with it.
Nobody had mentioned that studying was hard and took a lot out of you. So she usually resolved this by going to bed early, often as early as 8PM. In summers, when the sun was high up it was hard for her to admit that when everybody else was still up, but she decided to do so nonetheless. Today, late into the game, one more quick trip to the bathroom shouldn’t hurt. Except that everyone could see the diaper if she went. One person was all it took to have what little she had of a rep ruined.
There’d be more rumors and she would have an even harder time here. No, she would need to hold it, until tomorrow. She could do that, even with her problem. Right?
She sighed, looked down and after a second, gave a heavy sigh.
“Last chance, Tara…”
With quiet resignation, she climbed into bed, hoping that her body wouldn’t decide to relax too much during sleep, instead just wake her if the need got to badly.
It never did, she slept through the night and in the morning, was woken by a squishy diaper.
Which lead to the cleaning personnel finding said diaper in the trash bin and her having another talk about her state at the college.
As it turned out, the diapers had been purely symbolic, an incentive for her to try and be better, not to go ahead and continue her quest for complete bladder freedom, as it was put forth to her. Now that she had apparently proven her complete and utter lack of control, she was relegated to wear pull-ups during the day too. Which would’ve raised an objection, if the state of her underwear had been mentioned and that “the college exists to give people a chance for education. It does not exist to clean up your literal messes.”
So, this turned out great. It took her a month of sporadic bedwetting to almost get kicked out of college and then one night to end up full-time in absorbent underwear. Walking out of the office and back to her classes, she couldn’t help but groan. At least she could put on some of those new panties the college so graciously provided her with in the privacy of her room.
And that was that. She continued on her merry way without many an incident, though it appeared to become ever harder as she continued into the year. It worked well enough for her until sometime during the examination period in winter, when she had failed to properly prepare herself and nervousness got the better of her on more than one occasion. A leak later and just before the holidays were around the corner, she got her final talk, now with a woman, one of the professors who were gracious enough to manage the student body. An elderly lady with her hair dyed in a dull, fading brown, a wide smile and far too much jewelry on her body. Tara was sure the three gold rings on each ring finger were overkill.
“So, sweetie, it’s come to my attention that you’re having some problems,” she said, not even bothering with an introduction. Tara had seen her around sure, had heard people talk about her like she was a big deal, but she’d been busy managing her ever increasing problems.
“I-it only happened once! I promise I won’t leak again!” She immediately jumped to her own defense, this time she would not be dictated the pace of the talk. No, she would show her best self, ready to grow better, ready to evolve, to solve this bladder problem of hers.
The woman raised an eyebrow. “Sweetie, I was talking about your grades.”
A quick pause was followed by Tara deflating. “Oh, sorry… I’ll, uh, get better?”
She shook her head. “Sweetie;” and she also really tried to make that sound as condescending as possible, “that just won’t do anymore. The project, largely, was a success. I will be honest with you, the project is largely symbolic. The board needed to have something so we can pretend we have criteria we wanted the students to fulfil. You can’t even say we wanted the barest minimum, sweetie, we wanted you to simply be you, and adult, capable and willing to learn. Now, the project has mostly been as success-story. Except for one singular student. Which, I must say, has proven herself quite incapable of taking care of herself in a manner that satisfies.”
“I’m sorry. Look, I can take care of it, I–“
The old woman raised her hand, shooting the girl’s defense down immediately.
“We will give you another chance and I want you to understand this perfectly: It’s a symbol, you’re an adult and I think you’ll be perfectly capable of going back to normal by the next semester.”
Those words, spoken with the conviction of someone who couldn’t see any measure of a lie in their own words, would haunt Tara for the months to come. What was done, a symbol, was probably an effective method for someone to get back in shape. Go to the local daycare, help out with the children, straighten out a bit.
Yet the word serial escalation could not have been more accurate. On her first day, Tara thought she needed to prove that she was better than the kids by wearing panties. She got send home around noon after an accident.
On her second day, when she was eating lunch with the children, one of them provoked her and earned himself some beans to the face, starting a food fight. She got send home about thirty minutes than yesterday.
On her third day, she got into a situation where she tried to hold in a number two for the majority of the day and needing to go at the one time all the stalls were used. This turn of events led to her being send home earlier with the words “there’ll be a talk.”
When she was in front of the old woman again she looked at Tara in disbelief.
“Look, it was just bad luck, I–“
“You fought with pre-schoolers and threw food at them. You wet and messed yourself on several occasions. How is this bad luck?”
She looked at the end of her rope, like she couldn’t believe anything out of Tara’s mouth. The girl crossed her arms.
“Those were just accidents, and I couldn’t help it, the stalls in the children’s bathrooms were all used.”
“So use the employee’s bathroom?”
Tara lifted a finger and formed an argument, but only some air escaped her mouth. “Okay…I forgot I could do that.”
The old lady facepalmed. “And what was with you attacking little children?”
“Well, Mark was being an ass, I needed to assert myself.”
“By throwing beans at him?”
Tara shrugged, the old woman shook her head.
“Okay, fine. I talked to the staff, they say, aside from that one fight you might just fit in with the children, if you’re properly diapered at all times that is. I won’t have someone so childish attending our college. So, this is what is going to happen, you will go to that Daycare every day now, you will follow the words of the child care workers there. They are in charge of you. If there is anything to save, maybe they can. We will arrange for you to get back home.”
Tara looked at her. “B-but, what will my family think?”
The old woman threw her arms up into the air. “I don’t know. Maybe you should try graduating from Daycare, or diapers. Maybe they’ll be proud of you when you can control your emotions and can stay dry. I wash my hands of this mess.”
Tara wanted to do nothing more than sink into the air. This sucked, and everybody had told her that college would be smooth sailing.
