The Weekend Visit, Part 36

How was this happening to me?!

I always anticipated some degree my body’s usual habits getting disrupted by travel, new routines, etc. However, I had never dealt with anything this dramatic. Daunting urges coming out of nowhere; so much less self control than I usually had. And yet, despite how Kate had taken this well beyond our original deal, I actually didn’t suspect her involvement in this certain aspect of my ongoing regression this weekend. Instead, my recent Intro to Psych class had me stuck on the concept that wearing diapers and/or being treated like a little girl was causing me to subconsciously believe it. 

Okay, but Kate wasn’t blameless, either. I had already told her that I needed the bathroom; the only reason it had gotten this desperate was because I had been made to wait. Slightly panicking as I kept my feet firmly planted in place, I couldn’t even begin to find the words to express the problem in response to my sister’s question. The only way to use the toilet was to walk the rest of the way to the bathroom, wait for Kate to undo all the pins, and then do my business. And yet I was scared to disrupt the balance I had found in my body’s current position. 

“I, umm-” I hesitated, meeting her eyes and very much feeling like the little sister as she gazed back with a look of both judgment and confusion.

Kate rolled her eyes, “Use your words, Annie. Actually, don’t bother. Come on, the bathrooms are this way.” She gave my arm a sharp pull, jerking me towards a hallway off to our left. 

I gasped. Not from how I slightly stumbled in order to meet the way she abruptly launched into her stride, but because my fears were absolutely justified. Pretty much the second we turned the corner, I was no longer able to hold back the inevitable. Letting out an awkward squeak as my sphincter gave a push that was completely involuntary, my grip on Kate’s hand tightened as if that would do anything to prevent what was coming.

It was an embarrassingly familiar feeling, as this was the fourth time I was having such an accident. A disgusting warmth escaped me and pushed against the back of the diapers, only to start spreading and expanding as the semi-solid log filled the seat of my padding. All the while, I couldn’t help but slightly squat as I realized there was no stopping this. It felt like the only way to have some semblance of control over the situation, to make the process a little more comfortable and to make room in the diapers for the sake of keeping everything contained to the padding. 

“Annie!” Kate hissed. It didn’t take her very long to figure out what I was doing. “Seriously?!”

My lips parted to say something, even if my brain hadn’t caught up enough to form a single word, and I instead ended up letting out a little grunt as a less solid wave of mess emptied itself into my diapers. Blushing up a storm as I felt the dirty padding sagging underneath me, the mortifying process concluded with a natural wet.
Kate just stared at me, as if in disbelief, as we both listened to the faint hissing that was painfully audible in the otherwise quiet hallway. Not even a smirk as she witnessed me utter humiliation. It wasn’t until the stream subsided to a trickle that she finally spoke up again, while I was still reeling from how full the diapers were from the collective accident. “Imagine if you had been wearing panties,” she said, pausing just long enough for that visual to take hold. Then, the edge of her lips finally curled up ever so slightly. “I think we’re well past you claiming that you don’t need your diapers, little sis. Also, keeping a tally of your accidents sounds exhausting. New rule. You can graduate to your big girl underwear once you prove you can make it two weeks without using your diapers. Sound fair?”

I was barely listening. Because, again . . . HOW??

“Kate, no!” I exclaimed, yanking my hand out of hers, “This isn’t fair! I don’t need diapers. I just-” There was literally no defense. Two accidents of this magnitude in a single day? “-I think I’m just, like, sick, or something,” I said. That felt easier than trying to explain the psychology theory.

She didn’t miss a beat. “Uh huh. Then you shouldn’t have any problem making it to the toilet for two weeks in a row moving forward. In the meantime, if being ‘sick’ is making you shit yourself, then shouldn’t you keep wearing diapers?” 

I had nothing against her simple logic, and her air quotes didn’t help. “But-”

“Hush, Annie. Besides, you were basically up to fourteen days anyway. This way just makes a lot more sense for your potty training. It’s easy; use the bathroom like every other girl your age already knows how to do, and no more diapers. Okay?”

Just like the last few circumstances like this, it was difficult to argue or debate when wearing sagging diapers. “Like, okay . . . ” I mumbled.

“Good,” she said, “See, it’s so much better when you do what your older sister says. Now, come on. We’re going back to our table.”

Wait, what? “I need to change!” I reminded her. Certainly she wouldn’t have forgotten something like that so soon after what I just did.

“Into what?” Kate asked. She showed me her empty hands, “This was supposed to be a trip to the bathroom, not a diaper change. Besides, you know how long it takes to clean you up when you’re like this. Our food would be cold by the time we made it back.”

Maybe a slight exaggeration, though the first point was valid. Even a fancy place like this wouldn’t have much more than paper towels in the restroom. Without Kate’s supplies, or a shower . . . As for underwear, even if I could magically be clean again, she definitely wouldn’t let me go commando afterwards, whether I believed I’d be fine for a couple hours or not. 

“Come on, brat,” she said, taking my hand again, “You’ll be fine.