DiapOut: Chapter 36

“MMMMMMMNNNNFFF!!!”

RIIIIIIIIP!

A pale, desolate expression overtook the female employee’s face as she speedily tore open the six-foot-long Betsy Wetsy box; its flimsy, cardboard walls rattled from the inside, complicating the unboxing process. Muttering obscenities under her breath, the minimum-wage worker did her best to ignore the devilish giggles encircling the box as she finally broke the outer seal.

“-ET ME OUT OF THIS FUCKING THING!” shrieked an 18-year-old Zeke at the top of his lungs, panicking in place with his arms zip-tied to the pink inner box layer. Not that being bound to a dolly box kept him from thrashing back and forth. He gritted his teeth as the soupy mess in his fake, pillowy diaper spread to the front, regrettably increasing his humiliatingly noticeable arousal; the sharp point in the center of his padding was a dead giveaway. Adorning the titular Betsy Wetsy’s famously short and lusciously silky babydoll dress, there was no hiding how embarrassed he was from his sister or her large assortment of friends. He could only squint his eyes shut tightly and let their unending laughter crash upon him like a brutal tidal wave.

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“It’s the laughter I haven’t gotten over,” said Zeke, reclining atop a chaise lounge. Two months into his first year of college, and the events of the previous summer had yet to leave his traumatized brain. Since the tragic events that took place during his sister’s birthday party at the Pretty Pretty Princess Doll Factory, he’d cut himself off from pretty much every person in his life. Not even his girlfriend made the cut, who after countless attempts at consoling him had no choice but to give up and move on. Thankfully, therapy at college was free, giving him ample opportunity to talk about his problems confidentially. “I feel so much shame.”

Lowering his notepad and pen empathetically, Zeke’s therapist, Dr. Martin Anderson, had seen his fair share of patients with deep-seated shame issues. However, never before had the root cause been something so absurdly mortifying. “The ego is a fragile thing, and I do mean in the Freudian sense. What you’ve experienced shattered your self-image to such an extent that you’re rejecting anything associated with that past image. Not intentionally, mind you. Although, now that you are aware, it’s up to you to be kinder to yourself for aspects of your mind that you can’t control,” he said, starting from a scientific standpoint before digging into the emotional aspect. Tragically, it was only his second session with Zeke so there were still a lot of question marks in the air about how to approach his mental strife.

“It’s easy for you to say I should be kind to myself but you’re not the one who can’t stop getting turned by this shit,” said Zeke, losing his temper as memories of how arousing it felt to be bound in the life-sized doll’s infantile attire. He gritted his teeth to keep from crying.

Tapping his pen on his notepad, Dr. Anderson knew he needed to pivot if he was going to send Zeke off in 20 minutes with his head held high. “Speaking of that, you mentioned in our last session being curious about buying some adult diapers for yourself. Did you end up purchasing any?” he asked, repositioning Zeke and himself to a more positive place within the conversation while sticking to the same subject.

“I almost did but I chickened out when my roommate walked by. Plus, I still have a few medical ones left that I took from my grandpa’s place,” responded Zeke, bashfully looking away from Dr. Anderson as hues of red descended upon his face. “Maybe I should just toss them out and try to forget about all of this.”

Placing his notepad in his lap and offering Zeke a benevolent smile, Dr. Anderson could sense Zeke didn’t mean the words he was saying, even if he desperately wanted to. “That is always an option, and there’s no shame in doing so…” he said, bending to Zeke’s will. It wasn’t his job to argue with his patients, though that didn’t mean he couldn’t present an alternative, “...but if you ask me, it would be far more beneficial to find a positive outlet for these newfound desires. It doesn’t even have to be in person. The world gets smaller every day, and there are dozens of online groups filled with people who feel the same as you.” He leaned forward and gently patted Zeke’s shoulder. “Ultimately, the decision is yours. Just some food for thought…”

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“...just some food for thought…”

Days had passed since Dr. Anderson’s innocuous suggestion and yet Zeke’s brain still lingered. The idea of seeking out online ABDL groups wasn’t exactly a foreign concept to the remorseful kinkster. He’d pushed himself to make a fetish Xwitter and join a few Discord servers. Sadly, both accounts had done nothing but collect dust over the past couple of months. He knew Dr. Anderson had a point but the concept of interacting with someone else in a kink headspace was unbelievably daunting, regardless of whether it was in person or not.

YAAAAAAWN!

Leaning back in his chair to check the cafeteria’s analog clock, it wasn’t even 2 pm yet and he was already ready to crawl back into bed. Considering he didn’t have another class until after 5, perhaps a midday nap wasn’t such a bad call. With half a tray of food left in front of him, he decided he was going to polish off his mac and cheese and dump the rest. His meal plan gave him three free meals per day so it wasn’t like he’d go hungry.

“OMG! Did you see that girl? I can’t believe they let people into college who aren’t potty trained.”

Practically choking on his last bite of cheesy noodles, the conclusion to Zeke’s meal was suddenly accosted by two snooty-looking girls with obnoxiously loud whispers who happened to claim the table adjacent to his. He slyly leaned back in his chair and angled his ear towards the girls, too curious not to continue listening.

“I know, right? You can see droplets leading all the way to her table. It’s so pathetic.”

Unable to keep himself from gazing out across the cafeteria, Zeke instantly spotted a line of five or so yellow puddles no bigger than a penny apiece leading from the checkout counter to a booth just around the corner. Sure enough, the girl stationed in the booth was frantically patting her lap with napkins while constantly looking up to see if anyone was watching her. Her wandering eyes soon caused Zeke's head to swivel away to avoid detection. It wasn’t like he needed to keep staring anyway. He’d seen everything he needed to. Beyond the obvious issue of her pants being soaked, there was no mistaking the extra bulk surrounding her pelvis. She was diapered…she was diapered and leaking.

Memories of Zeke’s turbulently titillating ride through the Pretty Pretty Princess Doll Factory’s auto-dresser once again rose to the forefront of his mind, filling him with altruistic intentions. He couldn’t bear to see someone else go through an ordeal as humiliating as his, even someone he didn’t know. Propelled to action by a strange yet palpable longing for, as Dr. Anderson put it, “a positive outlet for these newfound desires,” he quickly gathered his belongings before speed walking over to the checkout counter. “Hi, um, can I get another can of ginger ale, please?” he asked, pursing his lips into a small smile.

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Double Trouble!

“Alright, Lelaya! For your Play-It or Pass-It Challenge, you get to select not one but two players to participate!” said CassiRole, gesturing to Lelaya’s prompt on the monitor. The audience roared with excitement as one of the Nanny Iris bots reappeared to deliver a bulky white object to Cassi. Holding the crinkly item up for all to see, the already exuberant audience went bananas as they gazed upon a ludicrously large diaper adorned with four leg holes. It didn’t take a genius to see where this was going.

Meanwhile, watching from a hunched position with her hands resting on her kneecaps, Mia was struggling to stay upright; the weight of her waterlogged diaper finally getting to her. If it hadn’t been for the constant starting and stopping of the show, maybe things would’ve moved fast enough for her to make it back around to her turn. Unfortunately, as things stood, she’d be lucky if she lasted another full minute.

“Hey, Miiiia! When’s my nex turn? I wansa pway agin!” said Misa, waddling over to Mia in a hypnotized state and draping her arms around her exhausted friend’s shoulders. Her timing couldn’t have been worse as the added poundage left Mia quivering in place.

Failing to stay measured under so much weight, Mia harshly shoved Misa away before exploding on her. “Back off! This is hard enough already!” she shouted, unintentionally interrupting the scene between Lelaya and Cassi.

“Quiet on set!” yelled Keelee, glaring in Mia’s direction before turning back to Cassi. “Still rolling!”

Clearing her throat, Cassi resumed her explanation, “As I was saying, this CrissBaby Buddies Diaper will be worn by two players of your choice, forcing the wearers to work in tandem until your next turn. So, any thoughts on who you’d like to see go butt-to-butt?”

“Hmmm…let me think…” said Lelaya, pondering her decision while tilting her head back and forth lackadaisically; the only part of her upper body that was moveable thanks to the straight jacket. A mischievous smirk formed as she glanced back at her temperamental team, “...Mia and Misa! That’s who should wear it!”

“WHAT?!” shouted literally everyone in the studio. It was a collective jaw-drop that, for the briefest of moments, unified both teams, the production staff, and the audience in a state of sheer awe. Backstage, a loud smack could be heard, echoing off of Jackson’s forehead as he slapped it.

Picking her chin up off the floor, Cassi’s face ran the gamut from emotions from pure shock to stupefied amusement. Never in her wildest dreams when she selected Mia and her friends to be amongst the first DiapOut contestants could she ever have imagined how ridiculously entertaining they would be. “Um…okay! Mia and Misa, come on up!” she said before focusing her attention back on Lelaya. “I’m sorry but I have to ask. Why pick members of your own team for such a humiliating task?”

“Because friends shouldn’t fight. Some diapee time together should sort them out, no problem,” Lelaya said without a hint of remorse.

Mia’s stink eye was fierce as she waddled up onto Cassi’s platform; her dismal mood contrasted by Misa, who was simply elated to get to another turn. Putting all thoughts toward future revenge schemes on the back burner, she braced herself for the task at hand. “L-Let’s just get this over with,” she said, leaning into what was swiftly becoming her signature catchphrase.

“Yay! Mo diapees!” clamored Misa, losing herself to the half of her brain being overrun with padded serotonin. Ever since her jousting victory over Zeke, any remnants of the diaper-loathing individual, who only elected to play in the first place out of a sense of guilt, had been completely suppressed.

Observing from across the giant game board as a small crew of PAs rushed to put Mia and Misa in their two-person diaper, Rupert scoffed in premature celebration. “They gotta be throwing it,” he speculated. This was now the second time the Wetters could’ve passed on a difficult challenge but chose not to, and since he was forced to stay on the hopper ball until his next turn, it would’ve pretty much guaranteed a loss regardless of who he was paired with. “I didn’t think we had a chance after Kyoko screwed me over but after this, we may still have a shot! What do you think, Zeke?”

The dark, brooding cloud that hung over Zeke’s head was thick enough that neither Rupert nor Cade could ignore it. He knew they were merely trying to cheer him up but there was no shaking the dread from his upcoming turn. “Yeah…we may still have a chance,” he said sourly, his tone betraying his sentiment. Staring two spaces ahead at the only red square in range, he exhaled sharply. If what he overheard was correct, his destination was already set in stone.