Fallout Nurse Vegas Part 2 (Patreon)

Silence reigns for a long moment as you grip the sides of the vigor tester, not saying anything. The heat from your accident is still smooshing up against you while the bottom of your diaper is brushing against the floor.

Doc Michelle finally breaks the silence, stepping to the doorway leading to what looks like a living room. “Well it looks like your vitals are okay in any event, but that don’t mean that bullet didn’t leave you nuttier than a bighorner dropping. Whaddya say you take a seat on my couch—I mean by my couch and we go through a few questions?”

You catch that little slip of her tongue, recognizing it’s because there’s no hope for the massive seat of your diaper to rest on the couch's cushions. The damn thing itself can be used as a seat, which seems to be exactly what the Doc wants you to do.

With no other option you follow her through the doorway, dragging the forty pounds hanging around your waist along with you like it’s nothing. The couch sits in the middle of the room, but just as you expected the seat of your diaper is far too large for that to be a choice. Instead, you plop your body down into the padding, sinking slightly into the muck inside before the compacted waste starts to hold you up.

Doc Michelle takes the seat across from you, looking somewhat serious. “We’ll just see if your dogs are still barking.”

You grimace at the mess squishing around your bottom, trying to focus on the woman who’d saved you.

“Alrighty Minnie. I’m gonna say a word and you say the first word that comes to your mind.”

The first thing that comes to your mind is: “What the fuck did he just call me?” Not since your mother had anybody called you Minnie and you certainly weren’t about to let this rando doctor call you that.

You opened her mouth to protest, to call Michelle a ballsy fucker for sticking you with such a childish nickname, but the words that came out were entirely different. “Okay Doc, I’m ready for a test!” you say.

“Alright little lady here we go. Dog.”

“Companion,” you think.

“PUPPY!” you say excitedly.

The word slips from your lips almost violently as you think about gagging on it. “What the fuck is wrong with me?” you wonder as the concern starts to grow. It’s almost like you’re an observer of somebody else controlling your body and at the same time, it’s undeniably you.

“House.” Doc Michelle says.

Shelter

“Nursery.” This Minnie version of you says.

It’s almost easy for you to think of her as another person. She’s a childish version, one called Minnie who’s calling the shots at this moment. You can think all you want but she’s going to answer. That version of you will answer.

“Night.” Michelle says

Shroud

“Crib.”

“Bandit.” Michelle says.

Swiss Cheese

“Scary.”

This one makes you groan a little because you almost don’t want to believe this one. Not only were these questions being answered in the most annoying way possible, but apparently she was a coward, or people would see her as one. Even Doc Michelle raised an eyebrow at this.

“Light.” Michelle said.

“Muzzle flash.” you think, remembering the blast from Bunny’s pistol.

“Safe.”

“Alright, last one,” Michelle says. “Mother.”

“Cookies” you think, remembering fondly the crumbly sweets she used to make.

“Milk,” you say, a bit of drool escaping your mouth. The flashing image of a pair of breasts crosses your mind as you imagine suckling away at a meal. You want to shake the thought from your head but it won’t go away. You realize how hungry you are.

“Interesting.” Doc Michelle says. “Now I’ve got some statements. “I just want you to tell me how they apply to you.”

Outwardly you nod, telling the Doc you’re ready despite your personal worry about what’s happening. You want to scream, but at the same time your voice isn’t your own anyway. All you can do is talk to yourself inside your head.

“Okay,” Doc Michelle says “first one: Conflict just ain’t in my nature.”

Immediately you disagree in your head, you’ve never been one to shy away from a fight and you’d be damned if you were gonna show that weakness either. Minnie has other ideas though. “I don wanna hurt anybody… we can share!” you say with a bright and sunshiny voice.

You cringe at the response.

“Alright…” Michelle says. “I ain’t given to relying on others for support.”

“Agree.” you think, remembering all the long runs you always did alone. It was easier on the road if you didn’t have to carry someone else’s weight.

“I like friends…” Minnie says, turning her gaze down bashfully, “Pl-Plus I can’t change myself. Need a mommy to do that!”

“What!?” you think, “Who the fuck said anything about changes? I’m not some diaper dependent dork!”

You want to fight for control but the Doc is already moving on to the next question. It may be easier if you just let her get through them.

“I’m always fixing to be the center of attention.”

“Hell no.”

Of course, in direct contrast to what you want you end up giggling like a fucking infant, bouncing a little on your seat. “God what’s so squishy?” you wonder.

“I love when people watch me! I’m so cute and they can tell me so.”

Michelle pressed on, not engaging with your childish half’s answer. “I’m slow to embrace new ideas.”

“Listen, I’m stuck in my ways. It ain’t stupid if it works.”

On this you and the other you  agree, apparently. “New stuff is hard…” Minnie says bashfully.

“I charge in to deal with my problems head on.”

“Strongly agree.” you think.

“Nuh-uh,” Minnie responds. “An adult can take care of it.”

You wish your arm was in your control because if it was you’d slap your forehead in embarrassment. “You ARE an adult you twit,” you think, trying to speak directly to whoever the fuck was in the pilot’s seat for your body, “Don’t think that just because we’ve got hypermesser syndrome that we’re not an adult dammit!”

To your surprise you get a reply to this one. It was simple but definitely only directed at you. “You’re not very nice sissy.” Minnie shoots back.

Michelle interrupts before you can say anything else. “Alright, rapid-fire round. I’m going to show you some images and you just tell me what you see.”

Before you can even protest mentally the first picture appears, an abstract inkblot that doesn’t really look like anything, though you remember that’s the point of them.

“It looks like a broken chain.”

“Two-headed bug!” you proclaim.

Michelle places the next picture.

“A piece of space-age technology.” you think.

You end up blushing and crossing your legs, dropping your hands to your groin and burying them in the squishy front of your padding. Something tingles within you. “I can’t say what this is… it’s too embarrassing.” you mumble. You can feel the burning red of your cheeks. It’s hard to admit but Minnie’s right—it does kind of look like a pussy and it’s making her—and you—a bit horny.

“Last one.” Michelle says, placing it down.

You say and think your answer simultaneously, apparently both parts of you on the same page: “Two bears high-fiving.”

“Well that’s all she wrote,” Doc Michelle said, “Far as I can tell you’re fine, if just a wee bit daffy.” She said that last part under her breath and while the Minnie you doesn’t react like she heard it, you for sure did and can’t help but agree.

“Just one last thing. Got a form for ya, I don’t expect to find out you got a family history of getting shot in the head but hey, ya never know.”

Michelle passes a form to you and a list of traits stares back at you. You recall certain odd details like your penchant for weird shit to happen around you and your tendency to throw a mean, heavy-handed punch. Apparently Minnie does too because your hand checks these little boxes before handing the form back to Michelle. “Did I do that?” you wonder, considering how much control you have given your other persona’s exterior influence.

“Alright, I guess that about does it!” Michelle says. “After a change, I’ll see you out. Come with me.”

You’re confused for a moment, considering what the Doc said. “A change? Why the fuck would I need a change?”

You look down and are reminded of two things that bring a blush to your cheeks. The first is that you’re mostly nude, your breasts are fully on display to the world, and the Doc could have been staring at them the whole time. If she was you didn’t notice though. The second is the armchair-sized, shit-packed diaper taped around your waist, the one you’ve been sitting on all this time.

The fetid mass of your enormous movement has long since cooled underneath you, making it easier to forget about, though the rancid nature of the smell isn’t something you’d expected to become so quickly nose-blind to. It’d apparently faded into the background at some point.

Doc Michelle offered a hand out to you, helping you shift your weight across the mountain of mush so your feet could once again touch the ground. It’s a surprise that you can still move so easily even with all that mushy weight underneath you. “Maybe that dumbass bar toy was right, I must be stronger now.”

Following behind the Doc, she leads you back into the room you were in previously. Instead of lying on the bed she directs you to a hospital table with a vinyl top. The edge of your diaper hangs off the end and internally you apologize for what this poor woman is about to have to do.

She however really doesn’t seem bothered, smoothly untaping and removing your diaper with surprising finesse. Outwardly you blush and hide your face behind balled hands. Through the gaps in your poor excuse for hiding you can see Doc Michelle smiling at you.

“Ain’t no need to be bashful darlin’. My wife had the hypermesser virus too. It’s not my first rodeo.”

At this Minnie smiles, obviously pleased by the kind reassurance despite the cold wipes. In what feels like no time at all Doc Michelle has a new diaper wrapped around you, with the other one spirited away before you could even push yourself off the table.

While you may not have noticed the weight when it was there, you surely notice it when it’s gone. Your feet practically rocket you off the table when they touch the floor, still unconsciously trying to compensate for forty pounds of waste. You stumble forward and the Doc catches you, flashing her smile once again.

She leads you toward the door of her house, presenting you with a few things: The note about your delivery and an old Pip-Boy being the other. Minnie-you is immediately thrilled and pokes at every button excitedly. Doc Michelle pulls her focus back by saying there was something else and produces a garment from behind her back. You stare at it for a long time, judging the outfit.

You decide pretty quickly you aren’t a fan, the see-through nature definitely not going to hide your diaper at all, though you remembered reading somewhere that that was the purpose. Vault-Tec stuff was always really weird like that.

Still, it’d probably be marginally better than walking out into the Mojave naked so you nodded at the proposition.

Then some unexpected words escape your lips, shocking you again. “I want something to eeeat!!” you whine, rubbing your tummy to indicate you need to replenish what the hypermessing disease had forced out.

“Oh alright, Let’s get you into your new clothes and then I’ll look at getting you a bottle. If that ain’t enough I know the Saloon down the way has the best milk this side of the long 15.”