What would it be like, she wondered, to consciously use a diaper for its purpose? Would it feel gross when a perfectly good toilet was nearby, or would it feel naughty? Would it make her feel fine or would it make her feel bad? Chastity couldn’t finalize an answer one way or the other, and was left with questions that demanded—or at least deserved—answers.
Chastity was still staring at her diaper. Unbidden, the memory of Jack taping her popped diaper back into place resurfaced; she blushed a bit, though with a little hint of pleasure, even though the event was only hours in the past rather than days or weeks.