It Gets Worse - Part 1 (Patreon)

 Pictures property of UKDiaperGirls and Odette Delacroix. 

It could always get worse... Somehow, life always managed to find a way.

Odette had been positive she'd hit the bottom, that things had to take a turn for the better. They had to at this point... She was almost out of college, basically an adult, and yet, she still found herself having accidents. No, not little mishaps, or a bad driving record... She couldn't keep her pants dry.

It all seemed so silly, thinking about it like that. She'd made it through potty training more than fifteen years ago, and, despite a few night-time issues when she was younger, that should have been the end of that; it had been, up until this year. Maybe it was the stress of her final year, hoping she could keep her grades high enough that this really would be her last year, without her having to re-do something in summer school, or, even worse, and extra semester... That was the only thing that made sense, although she wished her body would understand that this was just stressing her out even more, which was making the problem worse, rather than better.

On the bright side, it was a good thing that this hadn't started any earlier than it had... This had been her first year with a private room, so it was slightly easier to deal with this new problem, not having to worry about someone else in the same room, possibly waking up before her and seeing her lying there in a puddle before she had a chance to wake up and dispose of the evidence, or being there when she just needed somewhere private to duck into after not quite making it to the bathroom on time.

Of course, she still had to clean up after those accidents, and a private room didn't mean private washing machines. She'd gotten very used to the schedule of everyone else in the dorm, knowing just the right times to take her wet sheets and clothes to the laundry room. She was sure people found it strange that she was almost always in there, but hoped they assumed she was OCD or something.

Now, all that was about to change... It was the start of her second semester, so her dormmates would all be on different schedules that she'd have to re-learn, and hope she could work something out. She'd figured it out once, though, so she was sure she could do it again; she hadn't let herself worry about it too much. 

It turned out, there were more important things to fret over. Her mother had insisted, after Odette had several accidents during the break between semesters, that she start wearing diapers... She'd also made Odette go through her closet and sort through her old clothes so that she could get rid of them, probably to make it easier for her to turn Odette's room into a home gym or sewing room or something. 

Odette wasn't sure how it had happened, how her father possibly could have done it. She'd had her bags of clothes to be donated, and the bags to take back to school, and she knew she'd told her dad which ones to put into her car... And yet, when she got to school and started unpacking the trunk, the bags she pulled out were not at all the right ones.

By the time she arrived, it was too late to do anything about it, other than write a very unhappy text to her father, so she'd gone to bed. Unfortunately, her real clothes weren't magically waiting for her when she woke... And, without her mother to make sure she had a diaper on to go to bed, she hadn't bothered, all too happy to change back into real panties - even if they were from when she was much younger - which turned out to be a huge mistake. They were soaked, as were the clothes she'd worn to drive, since she'd fallen asleep in them.

She dug through the bags to find the least embarrassing outfit, something that turned out to be quite a chore. She'd kept just about everything that still fit well, reasoning that she never knew when she might need it - now, for instance. Most of them were definitely too small... Her best bet, like it or not, was her old school uniforms.

Reluctantly, she'd put a diaper on after cleaning herself up; they made her feel silly and immature enough on their own, but pulling one of the uniforms she'd worn as an actual child over them only amplified that. She searched for the biggest size, tugged at the skirt, told herself it was long enough - pulling on a pair of tights afterwards, in the hope that it would somehow help hide the bulky diaper, though mostly it just held the padding even tighter to her, and made it even harder to ignore the fact of what she was wearing - then trundled her wet sheets and clothes to the laundry room, running into three people on the way. She'd wrapped the bedding so that the wet spot was as hidden as she could make it, but that didn't keep her from blushing, and praying that they didn't hear the crinkling of her diaper as she walked past them.

As she started loading her things into the machine, she began to feel an urgent sensation in her stomach. She didn't worry too much about it, at first, since she hadn't had any issues with that, thankfully... As she continued working, however, it started to get worse and worse, much quicker than usual. Frantically, she shoved the rest of her things into the washer, shoved the money in, and scurried back to her room, not wanting to risk the stalls in the public bathroom in the building being full, or having to take her diaper off in them.

The urge only got worse as she ran, no longer caring how loud her diaper was... She was more concerned now with not using it. She slid into her room, then grabbed the bathroom door and yanked it open, just in time to feel something strange, and new, and horrifying, happen in her pants, a surge of soft, mushy goo sliding out into them. "No, not now!" she moaned, and, not knowing what else to do, she slammed her backside down on the toilet, not even taking the time to open it, or pull down her diaper or tights, simply wanting it to stop.