Childish Choices (Chapter 3) (Patreon)

Dr. McAaron was charming and humorous, and despite her diapered predicament, Maria liked him immediately.

His wife introduced them calmly and casually, for all the world as though Maria was a top student or a yoga-class acquaintance … rather than an employee being reprimanded by sitting in the back of their car with her legs spread around a wet diaper.

“To spare you wondering, I already know what you did,” Dr. McAaron told her immediately.

Maria blushed deeply, trying to organize an apology, an explanation, something.

“Don’t worry!” he said with a smile.  “Some people just have to be given more explicit rules, that’s all.  There’s nothing to worry about; there’s no shame in it.  Although,” he added roguishly, “you’re very lucky it was my wife who caught you watching that video!  Not everyone would have understood.”

“I’m very grateful,” Maria said in a small voice, glancing toward Dr. Reniston.

Dr. Reniston just nodded and got into the driver’s seat.  “Hold still until you’re told otherwise,” she reminded Maria gently, so Maria kept her legs apart and her hands clasped in front of her breasts, even though it was beginning to ache, keeping her arms held up after a day at the lab bench.  At least the tight pressure in her bladder had been eased when Dr. Reniston made her wet.

It looked as though both Dr. McAaron and Dr. Reniston could see her in the rearview mirror.  They made light conversation about their days at work, developing the super-absorbent compounds that were revolutionizing the world of athletic fabrics, industrial flooring, and (of course) diapers – all as Maria sat quietly in the back.  When they’d pulled in to the restaurant, she waited for Dr. Reniston to tell her she could move again, but it was Dr. McAaron who opened the door, untucked her skirt from the seatbelt, and unbuckled the belt from around her waist.

The place was a small-plates restaurant which Maria knew had been receiving top reviews.  The two scientists seemed to know it well.  The hostess took them to a secluded back corner and Maria followed, moving a little gingerly in her diaper.  It didn’t feel soaked, but it certainly was moving with her a little differently now that it was wet.

Dr. Reniston and Dr. McAaron seated Maria in between them.  As the hostess departed to give them a moment with the menus (there were only two menus on the table), Dr. Reniston reached under her skirt, discreetly but without preamble, and unstrapped one of the tapes over her hip, then stuck it back straight and snug.  “Better?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” Maria said in a small voice.  There was something about having the older woman lift her clothing out of the way so casually – something that made her feel rather helpless, but in a way that seemed … safe.

Maria never spoke to their server.  Dr. McAaron ordered smoothly for the table, and indicated to the waiter that he should bring a glass of juice to Maria – and then keep it full.  “She’s very dehydrated,” he explained earnestly.  Maria felt herself blush from cheekbones to collarbones.

And when the orange juice arrived, Dr. Reniston meaningfully tapped her knee.  “Drink up,” she said firmly.

Blushing even brighter, Maria drank.

Dr. McAaron asked her a few kind questions about her work at the laboratory – apparently his own job was actually in the company’s public relations department – and included her in a little of the small talk with Dr. Reniston.  Other than that, she was not called upon to speak much, only drink her juice and eat what was placed on the plate in front of her.  Little bites of everything were set down, and she consumed them obediently.

She hesitated only once, when Dr. Reniston took what appeared to be a chocolate chip out of her purse, released it from a little twist of foil, and set it on top of Maria’s small appetizer.  “Maria,” said Dr. Reniston when she paused, “my understanding was that you chose to participate in experimental testing.  Is that not the case?”

Maria’s whole life could go up in flames if Dr. Reniston decided not to keep her secret.  She popped the bite right into her mouth, and she didn’t hesitate again.

Before the meal was over she was beginning to realize what she’d been given.  Even for the size, richness, and variety of the dinner she was eating, the rumblings inside her had just come on too suddenly.

Involuntarily, she rocked back and forth once on the seat.  She instantly had both scientists’ full attention.  “Don’t worry, Maria,” Dr. McAaron said encouragingly.  “As I said, it’s perfectly normal to need someone else to control … your timing, let’s say.”

“Clasp your hands, Maria,” Dr. Reniston commanded calmly.  “From now on, whenever you are going in any way, you are to clasp your hands while you do it.  Understand?” 

Maria nodded, her face scarlet.  She understood, all right: she was going to have to perform for Dr. Reniston that she was doing what she was supposed to do, every time, for however long this evening lasted.  She folded her fingers together.

The movement came swiftly and silently, and she went both ways at once, her warm pee spreading gently through the diaper even as the bulk of her mess slipped out to change the shape of the thin padding around her.  This time she forgot even to fear leaks.  She squeezed her hands together as another lump slid free of her.  There was no smell; the specially treated diaper must contain odors perfectly.

At last she unclasped her hands and laid them in her lap, face aflame, lower regions lapped in filth held against her by the material of the diaper.  Dessert arrived, and she ate her portion in silence, the heated flush of her face never fading.  She was sitting in her own little pile of filth.

As the researchers lingered over a cup of coffee, Maria could contain herself no longer.  “When will I be able to change, please?” she murmured, near tears.

Dr. Reniston seemed to suppress a smile at her whispered outburst.  Dr. McAaron’s hand slid under her skirt to give her bottom a friendly pat.  The sensation was dimmed by the diaper – and by its contents, too.

“No, no, no,” he said.  “You won’t be changing yourself!  Don’t worry about that.  And no one is changing you tonight.  We work on super-absorbents, remember?  The diaper you’re testing should have no trouble keeping you padded up for at least a week.  We’ll change you … oh, probably Friday.”

“Well,” Dr. Reniston put in, “we’ll check you Friday.  We want the test to find out the limits of how much our treated adult diapers can handle, so if they’re not at capacity by then …”

Maria stared at Dr. Reniston, her mouth slightly open.  Distantly, she felt herself let go of some of the orange juice she’d been drinking, and a little trickle of warmth was released into the already-soiled diaper.  Unconsciously, her hands clasped as it did.

“Don’t worry,” Dr. McAaron said again.  “We won’t mind at all if you rely on us for your diaper changes.  And with our research and development improving every day, soon we might be up to two or three weeks that you can stay in one diaper with no unpleasant effects!”

“We’ll have to lock some panties on top of the diaper, of course,” said Dr. Reniston, “so you can’t be tempted to invalidate the data.”  She looked directly into Maria’s eyes and smiled.  “After all, we’ve seen today how your lack of self-control can lead to some poor choices, haven’t we?  But we’ll correct that.  We’ll control that.  We’re very interested in bringing this whole scenario to its full potential … and bringing you to yours.”

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This story was written by Helplesslyregressed  
You can find more of her content here : helplesslyregressed.tumblr.com