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Keeping secrets

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  • Gummybear
    started a topic [Complete] Keeping secrets

    Keeping secrets

    OK, I know I've been lazy, so hopefully posting in smaller parts like this will force me to actually keep writing. Bear in mind that I might make changes to already posted stuff based on comments, critiques and if I simply need to change things to make the rest of the story work.
    Keeping Secrets

    I look out the window at the rain pouring down. The clouds are as grey as lead over a city where life is equally bleak. The only light in my office is from the desk lamp. The bottle of whiskey next to it makes reflections that I'd probably find interesting if I was the artistic type. But I'm not. I study the bottle. It's almost empty; two, maybe three shots left. It's a good thing I have six more in my gun. And if I'm really lucky, I won't have to use them all tonight.

    There's barely a hint of movement outside the frosted window on the door before it opens and she walks in. I lean back to take in the whole package. The long, blonde hair, short dress and legs that go on for miles scream out 'trophy wife' but the sunglasses big enough to hide a serious shiner and the long-sleeved coat despite the weather hints at something darker.

    "Ms. Bullit?"

    "That's my name, doll."

    "Excuse me?" she says, indignation obvious in her voice.

    "Oh shit, you're real. One moment." Tracy quickly focused on the top right of her field of view to switch off the AR. Colour flooded back into the world, washing away the image of a 1940s office with a significantly more modern one. Tracy reached back behind her right ear to eject the small chip.

    "I'm sorry about that. I wasn't expecting anybody to actually be here." Tracy put the chip in the open desk drawer and rose. "Can I get you a drink? Coffee? Tea?" This was the first client for more than a week and she couldn't afford to lose her. Not with the rent being due in only a few days.

    "Um, no thanks," the woman said, seeming a little off balance at Tracy's sudden change in demeanour. She sat down in the chair in front of the desk. Tracy sat back down again and placed her phone on the desk between them.

    "Do you mind if I record this, Ms…?" Tracy looked expectantly at the woman.

    "Uh, Smith," she said, obviously lying.

    Tracy sighed. "Look, Ms. 'Smith'," she said calmly. "I track down information or people for a living, and I happen to be pretty good at it. So unless whatever you want me to find out isn't related to you at all and you're planning on paying me with cash, asking your name is more of a formality than anything else." Tracy didn't add 'or if you didn't turn your phone completely off before entering my office, or took a taxi here and didn't pay with cash, or got caught on the surveillance cameras in the shop next door', or any of the five other ways she could find Ms. Smith's name out in less than ten minutes. After all, there was no point in scaring her off.

    The woman seemed to deflate a little as she sank back in her chair. "Devereux. Camille Devereux."

    Tracy restarted the recording on her phone, erasing the last twenty seconds. "So, Ms Devereux, do you mind if I record this? It'll make it easier for me to write up my reports for you later and you have my word that whatever you say will be one hundred percent confidential." That last bit wasn't entirely true, but 'one hundred percent' sounded more reassuring than 'mostly'.

    Ms Devereux sat down opposite Tracy, resting her handbag on her lap. If it wasn't for her clothes, she could have been ripped straight from Tracy's 1940's AR. "It's my husband," she said after a couple of seconds.

    Of course it is. Tracy leaned forward, trying to seem interested although she wasn't expecting to hear anything she hadn't heard a hundred times before.

    "I think he's having an affair," Ms. Devereux blurted out. She seemed almost relieved after getting that off her chest.

    God, what I wouldn't do for an interesting case. It wouldn't even have to be anything serious.

    "What makes you think that?" Tracy pulled a notepad and pencil out of her desk drawer. Audio recordings were all well and good, but sometimes you wanted notes that you could set fire to and be sure that they were irrevocably destroyed.

    "I'm not sure exactly when it started. Dennis has always been a little secretive about his work."

    "So what is his job?"

    "He works for an investment firm. Smith & Smythe. The second one is with a 'y' and an 'e'," Ms. Devereux said, anticipating Tracy's question. "Nothing big or important. He always says he's just moving papers and making sure all the t's are dotted and all the i's are crossed." Tracy looked up from the doodles in the margin of her notepad and raised an eyebrow.

    "I know," Ms. Devereux said, "but that's how he says it."

    Tracy nodded.

    "Usually he's as regular as clockwork. Leaving for work at eight and back every day just after six."

    "Mm-hmm." There still wasn't anything that told Tracy that this case would be anything out of the ordinary.

    Ms Devereux continued. "Every other Saturday is date night and... and..." She sighed. "I know it sounds boring, but I love him."

    "And what changed?" Tracy asked. "What makes you think he's cheating on you?"

    "He started coming home late, or not at all. Forgetting things. And then there are weird charges on the credit card. It just isn't like him."

    "What kind of charges?"

    "I don't know. They were all to those anonymised online services. You know, like I tried to find out where the money was going, but I couldn't even get access to their login page."

    "I'm not surprised. You usually have to use a single, specific device connected to your account there."

    "So I'd need his phone or computer?"

    "Yeah." Tracy sucked her teeth and stroked her chin. "You do realise that all of this doesn't necessarily mean he's having an affair, right?"

    "I know, but we've even stopped..." Ms. Devereux hesitated awkwardly. "You know..."


    "I just need to know." Ms. Devereux sniffed She looked like she was about to cry.

    Tracy decided that a distraction was called for, so she put down her notepad. "So, just out of curiosity, what made you come here. My ad says pretty clearly that I specialise in online stuff." Tracy briefly touched the plastic port behind her right ear for emphasis, trying to make it look like an absent-minded gesture.

    Ms. Devereux smiled sheepishly. "Dennis isn't really what you'd call charming if you meet him in person so I figured that whatever he's doing, it's going to be online. That's how we met. He's so different online. Caring and funny and…" Her voice trailed off.

    "OK," Tracy said, "I'll see what I can find out. But you might not like what I find. You have to be prepared for that."

    "Oh, whatever it is, I'm sure we can work it out."

    Riiiiiiight. Like I haven't heard that one before. I'm going to find him fucking your sister or something, and you're going to 'work it out'. Oh well, at least it'll pay the bills.

    Tracy spent the next half hour getting all the details she felt she needed about Dennis Devereux from his wife. Then, after transferring the initial fee and Tracy promising to let her know as soon as she had something, Ms. Devereux left.

    Tracy transferred the audio file on her phone to a speech-to-text program and read through the transcript before saving it. Next she double-checked the information Ms. Devereux had given her. It wasn't that she didn't trust her, but Tracy didn't want any surprises. It all checked out though.

    Luckily, Smith & Smythe wasn't the only company in their building, so Tracy didn't have any trouble finding someone who had time to see her the same day.

    It was still three hours until Mr. Devereux would be done at work, so Tracy went over her equipment, making sure all the batteries were fully charged and all the memory chips were empty. The only thing she needed to do was to fill the tank of the car and she could do that on the way.

    As she lugged the two heavy suitcases down the stairs, she cursed the landlord for not fixing the elevator and she cursed herself for picking an office on the fourth floor, even if the view was nice. Once she was on the ground floor, the suitcases became more manageable although the little wheels would find every little crack and bump as they rolled along the floor. Tracy managed to block the closing door with her butt and backed out onto the sidewalk. It was like walking into a wall of heat. The heat had already dried most of the rain, leaving just a rank smell and air that felt almost sticky. Beads of sweat immediately began to form on Tracy's forehead. She looked quickly up and down the street before walking briskly across it, eager to reach the shadow of the parking garage on the other side.

    The old security guard at the entrance looked up from his newspaper when she came closer. "Hi Jamal", Tracy said cheerfully. "What's new?"

    Jamal ran his hand over his grey hair. "Not much," he said. "The world is still going to hell, politicians are still lying and athletes are still cheating." He smacked his paper for emphasis.

    Tracy wasn't sure exactly how old Jamal was, but it had to be at least eighty. He had been working the security booth in the garage when she moved in to her office four years earlier and he always seemed to be there. Tracy suspected he lived in one of the cars. He was also the only person she knew that still only read newspapers on paper instead of just using a tablet.

    "Maybe you should switch to books instead. At least the plot makes sense in them."

    Jamal snorted softly. "Work?" he asked and nodded to the suitcases.

    "Well, a girl's got to eat, you know." Tracy smiled and ducked around the barrier blocking the exit.

    "Just be careful then."

    "Stop worrying Jamal, You know I don't go anywhere near trouble. That's what I have my little friends for." She patted the suitcases.

    Tracy made her way down the ramp, trying to ignore the smell rising from the lower levels. She stopped at her van: a greyish-beige, medium-sized one that was about as non-descript as possible. After deactivating both alarms, she opened the side door and loaded in both the suitcases and the small backpack she was wearing. Then she got in and started the engine.

    OK, first the petrol station and then Smith & Smythe.
    Last edited by Gummybear; 04-17-2019, 10:25:10 AM.

  • Jul
    Really enjoyed this one too. I got quite impressed at the way the technology seems natural during reading although it's something alien to us. We'll written

    Leave a comment:

  • BabyAnna
    Very well written story even without the diapers.

    I'm not sure she'll be a successful businesswoman doing all that free work though.

    Leave a comment:

  • Mazamune
    Great story with a very original plot.
    As said by others before, the mixing of technology and DL part is great. We could feel a complete univers behind your story even if you dont give much details.
    The last chapter finishes really well your story even if could only want more with this quality.

    Nice job.

    Thank you for your work.

    Leave a comment:

  • Woolf
    I'm not so good at giving constructive criticism or the like.
    ​​​​​​But I can say that I really liked and enjoyed reading the story.

    Leave a comment:

  • kerry
    As I said earlier, this one was a lot of fun: very different from everything else out there and a blend of science fiction and ABDL and gumshoe story. Great concept and great writing. :-)

    Leave a comment:

  • Vulpix77
    Very cute story! I was kinda hoping it was going to be a bit longer, would have loved to see more instances of the virtual nursery thing. Still enjoyed it nonetheless!

    Leave a comment:

  • Gummybear
    Originally posted by fyunch View Post
    That was a real treat. Excellent concept, brilliant execution, and not rushed. I love it.
    Thank you very much. I struggled a bit to decide if I should post this final part in one go or split it up. I ended up keeping it in one piece, even if that piece is five times longer than the other parts. I just couldn't find a place where it felt natural to split it.

    Leave a comment:

  • fyunch
    That was a real treat. Excellent concept, brilliant execution, and not rushed. I love it.

    Leave a comment:

  • Gummybear
    Tracy woke to the ungodly racket of the alarm of her phone. She opened her eyes to peer at the screensaver on her computer. The sun was shining in through the blinds, making stripes across the screen and keyboard. Digging the controller out from under her hip, Tracy realised she wasn't wearing her sweatpants, only a diaper.

    Where the hell did those come from?

    She sat up. The diapers looked like the ones Kat had given her.

    Did I get them from the car last night?

    Tracy reached down and gave the diapers a gentle squeeze.

    Well, at least they're dry.

    Just as Tracy thought that, she felt a warm rush as she uncontrollably wet herself. It was quickly followed by that warm afterglow just like before. The combined sensation made her gasp and...

    Tracy started awake. She had just enough time to realise she was peeing her pants before the wave of pleasure hit. She slid off the sofa and landed on the floor with a soggy thump. It took Tracy several precious seconds before she could muster the energy and willpower to even try to get up. When she did, she looked down at the wet sweatpants and the wet spot on the linoleum floor. She shut her eyes tightly.

    Pleaseletthisbeadream, pleaseletthisbeadream, pleaseletthisbeadream...

    But this time she didn't wake up. Tracy fumbled for the phone in the darkness and pushed the redial button while she made her way to the bathroom, trying not to make wet footprints on the floor.

    Once she was in the bathroom, she put the phone on speaker and laid it on the shelf next to the sink before stepping inside the shower to take off the wet clothes.

    "Yes?" Kat's voice sounded sleepy.

    "Your chip made me pee myself," Tracy hissed as she undid the drawstring to let the sweatpants fall off.

    "Uh, no."

    "What do you mean 'no'?"

    "I mean 'no. it didn't'. I've told you this three times now. It does not control any of your muscles. And before you ask, nor does it loosen any either. Whatever happened is all you."

    "Why would I do this?" Tracy peeled off her underwear and t-shirt and dropped them both in the shower too.

    "I don't know."

    "So are you telling me that I'm going to wet my bed all week?"

    "Tracy? Are you drunk?" The question caught Tracy a little off guard.

    "Maybe a little," she admitted after a long pause.

    Kat sighed. "OK, tell me what happened."

    "Well, I came home and I went to the bathroom and then I..., you know..."

    "Yeah, and you called me, but what happened after that?"

    "I had a couple of drinks-"

    "Just a couple?"

    "Maybe the couple brought some friends to the party," Tracy admitted. "Then I played some games and then I fell asleep. And I had this weird dream that I woke up and was wearing a diaper and then I wet it and then I woke up and I had wet my pants."

    "You're rambling." Kat pointed out matter-of factly. "But let me see if I got this straight: You got a little drunk, you fell asleep and you wet yourself. Is that about it?"

    "I guess."

    "And is it possible that you wet yourself because you were drunk and dreamed that you wet yourself?"

    "I guess," Tracy said once more.

    "And since you're still drunk, maybe you should take some precautions so you don't have to do even more laundry in the morning," Kat said, sounding very reasonable.

    "You mean...?"

    "Yes Tracy. Do you still have them?"

    "They're in the car somewhere," she admitted meekly.

    "Well that's good. I imagine they're more comfortable than using a towel."

    "I guess," Tracy said once more.

    "Now what I want you to do is to get cleaned up, then go get the diapers and put one on before going back to bed."

    "You're being really bossy," Tracy commented.

    "Tracy." Kat said in a stern tone.

    "Okay; mom." That got a little chuckle at the other end of the line.

    Tracy hung up and sighed. Leaving the wet clothes in the shower, she turned on the water and waited for the water to get warm. She looked in the mirror.

    "So, why did you piss yourself?" she asked the naked Tracy staring back at her from the mirror.

    "Because I'm a freak and I like the way it feeeeeeeeels," she replied in a mocking, sing-song voice.

    Tracy sighed and rolled her eyes. Then she stepped into the shower. First she rinsed out the clothes and wrung them out before tossing them in the sink. Next she washed herself, taking longer than usual to make extra sure she was clean before turning off the water. After Tracy had dried herself, she stared at herself in the mirror again.

    She's not wrong, you know.

    Tracy sighed with annoyance and got dressed. Then she found an old rag and used it to clean up the small puddle of urine on the floor where she had landed. Luckily, the sweatpants had absorbed enough pee that the sofa hadn't been stained before she had slid off it.

    When Tracy entered the parking garage, Jamal looked up from his ever-present paper and nodded to her.

    "You okay? You don't look too great."

    "Oh I'm fine. I just woke up and remembered that I needed something from the car."

    "Now don't you go and get all over-worked," he said, suddenly sounding like a worried grandparent.

    "I won't. I promise," Tracy called as she jogged down the ramp.

    A minute later she was at the car. She found the green plastic bag under the passenger seat. Tracy grabbed one of the diapers and tucked it inside her jacket before locking the car and hurrying back.

    Tracy breathed a sigh of relief once she was inside her apartment with her door closed and locked behind her. Although the diaper was well hidden inside the jacket, she felt as if anybody she met would know about them. It felt like she was wearing a sign saying "Freak" in giant blinking letters. After tossing her jacket on the couch, Tracy headed for the bedroom. Feeling a weird combination of nervous and tired, she looked at the diaper in her hands.

    Oh go on. You know it's the sensible thing to do. And I want to get some sleeeeeeeeep.

    The siren call of the bed was just too overpowering. Tracy gave a resigned sigh and unfolded the diaper on the bed. Then she undressed, sat down on the diaper and laid back. Tracy realised that putting it on with your pants off was much easier. It also felt different somehow. Less weird.

    Maybe I'm getting used to it. Or maybe I'm just still a little drunk.

    Tracy yawned and burrowed down under the covers.


    The alarm clock next to Tracy's bed woke her up. She squinted at the sunlight as she fumbled to hit the snooze button. Despite her finishing off more than half a bottle of vodka, there was only a hint of a hangover lurking in the back of her skull.

    Thank you Saint Vivian.

    She pulled the blanket up over her head, just wanting another ten minutes of sleep. Then Tracy remembered the diaper she was wearing.

    How the hell did I forget about it.

    A quick check revealed that at least it was still dry and Tracy breathed a sigh of relief. She kicked off the blanket and looked down. Her t-shirt had slid up so the diaper was on full display. She rested a hand on the white plastic and smiled. For some reason she didn't really feel in a rush to get it off. After all, it was dry. It didn't really feel all that different from her regular underwear. Except it was plastic-covered, bigger and thicker. Tracy gave the diaper a playful little squeeze.

    And noisier. How did I get used to it this quickly?

    After what felt like less than a minute, the alarm began blaring again. Tracy sighed and shut it off. She got up and shuffled to the bathroom. For a moment she toyed with the idea of leaving the diaper on, but she decided against it. She undid the tapes and pulled it off before rolling it into a tight bundle and putting it in a plastic bag. Next, Tracy got dressed and put the still damp sweatpants, underwear and t-shirt in a plastic bag and then put them in her laundry bag along with some other clothes that also needed washing.

    I guess I'm having breakfast at the laundromat.

    Half an hour later, Tracy was eating a vending machine sandwich while watching her clothes slosh around in a washing machine. The 24-hour laundromat was empty except for her. Tracy finished off the last bite of the sandwich and washed it down with some coffee. Looking at the clock on the wall, she found she still had about two hours until she had to be back in place by Mike's car.

    What to do, what to do, what to do.

    She ended up playing some mindless game on her phone. Her reflexes were nowhere near good enough to get a great score, but she still liked it. After losing to the same boss for the sixth time, and the game starting to nag her about micro-transactions to let her continue right away, Tracy closed the game. She quickly scanned the news headlines, then put away the phone. By that time, the clothes were mostly dry and it was almost time for her to leave. She stuffed the dry clothes back in the bag and walked out.

    When Tracy arrived at Mike's office, she made a point of parking in a different alley than the previous days. Then she pulled out her phone and called Mike, who picked up almost immediately.

    "OK, I'm in position", Tracy said. "Where are you?"

    "Still checking the car. Hang on..." There was a grunt of effort and then Mike was back. "Looks clean. I should be at the office in about twenty minutes or so.

    Tracy hung up and slipped between the seats to the back, pulling the curtains that separated the front from the back closed and turning on the screen. It showed an empty parking space. Tracy sat down in the beanbag and found a new book on her tablet.

    It took Mike almost half an hour to arrive, and when he did, he parked in the wrong spot, so Tracy had to call him again to get him to the right spot where the cameras were hidden. Then it was all a matter of settling back down with the book. The motion detectors on the cameras would alert her if anything came close to Mike's car.

    The next hours were just as uneventful as the previous days. The only times the alarms beeped was when people walked past Mike's car, but nobody stopped to sabotage it or plant anything. Tracy was almost halfway through her book when she felt she needed to pee. Three cups of coffee since breakfast had obviously been a mistake. Tracy gave a groan of annoyance as she got out of the beanbag and found the funnel and an empty bottle. She had her pants down and was squatting over the funnel when she realised something and stopped.

    I can't do this. If I pee, I'm going to have another big happy, and then I'll miss the funnel and pee all over the floor in here.

    Tracy knew she couldn't leave Mike's car to find a bathroom without either risking her cover or moving out of range of the cameras. She briefly considered using duct tape to keep the funnel in place, but dismissed the idea since she would have to pull the tape off afterwards and she wasn't in the mood for a redneck Brazilian.

    Come on Trace, you know what you have to do.

    The little voice in the back of her head sounded annoyingly reasonable, and Tracy's eyes were drawn to the front of the van; to what she knew lay somewhere under the passenger seat. Even so, it took another ten minutes before she threw in the towel and capitulated.

    Fumbling blindly under the passenger seat, she found the crinkly, green plastic bag and pulled it out. Looking at the diaper inside the bag, she began to have second thoughts.

    There is a third option. You could just remove the chip. Remove the chip and forfeit the bet.

    Tracy considered it, lightly running her finger over the plastic cover of the chip port behind her right ear. If she removed it, she would be admitting defeat and losing the bet with Kat. But putting on the diaper and using it on purpose would be a crossing of the Rubicon for her. If she did this, things would not be the same afterwards and there would be no going back. She would have had wet herself on purpose

    Tracy stared at the diaper she was holding, weighing her options. Did she really want to do this? A stab of pressure from her bladder answered that question for her.

    Making sure nobody could look inside the van, Tracy unfolded the diaper and put it on the beanbag. Next, she undid her pants and pulled them down along with her underwear and sat down on the diaper. As she sank into the beanbag, the diaper almost moulded itself around her, making it easy to tape it shut.

    Tracy looked down at her new underwear. It felt just like the one she had put on the night before: Like stiff tissue paper. It looked the same. It sounded the same. But at the same time, everything about this diaper was different. It was a white flag of surrender. She would be admitting defeat and saying that Kat had been right.

    And would that be so bad? Maybe she is right.

    Tracy lay back, her pants still around her ankles, and let go and... nothing. The diaper stayed dry and her bladder stayed frustratingly full.

    "Arrrgh! Really?!?" Tracy groaned with frustration. More than twenty years of using the bathroom made this a considerable hurdle.

    The next quarter of an hour were the most frustrating minutes Tracy could remember. She tried everything from thinking of rivers and dripping faucets to downing the last can of energy drinks from the cooler.

    When the dam finally broke, Tracy wasn't sure if the euphoria she felt was from the chip or just sheer relief. She knew that the warm, wet rush that spread down between her legs to pool under her butt should feel shameful or wrong, but she didn't really care. The lethargic afterglow left Tracy feeling like a warm puddle of goo, sitting in another puddle. She just didn't want to move and when the phone rang, it was a struggle just to find the energy to answer it.


    It was Mike. "So, I have to meet a client at a bar called Pandora's Box. You want to head there now? I'll take a detour so you have time to get ready there."

    "Mm-hmm," Tracy answered airily.

    "Are you stoned? Or did I just interrupt something," Mike asked. The snarky tone in his voice quickly brought Tracy back down from cloud nine. She realised she had actually been stroking the swollen diaper. She immediately stopped, hoping the phone's microphone hadn't picked up the soft, crinkling sound

    What the hell?

    "No, no. I'm good," she answered. "Just give me a couple of minutes to get things stowed here."

    "OK, just let me know when you're ready. I'll text you the address."

    Tracy hung up. Her entire body still felt heavy, like she had been in a pool for hours and was just now getting out of the water, but she managed to slide out of the beanbag to kneel on the floor. Tracy was pleased to see that there had been no leaks. She undid the tapes and pulled the diaper off, rolling into a bundle before putting it into the green plastic bag. Using the last of the wipes, she cleaned herself before pulling her underwear and pants back up. Tracy opened the door of the van and tossed the bag with the diaper in one of the dumpsters outside before getting in behind the wheel.

    "OK Mike," she said when he answered the phone. "Nobody's set off the proximity alarms, so the car should be good to go. I'm headed to the bar as soon as you're in the car."

    "Sounds like a plan."

    "I'll let you know when I'm in place."

    Shortly after, Mike emerged from his office and approached his car. The proximity alarm beeped, and Tracy turned it off. Then, satisfied that Mike had things under control, she entered the address of the bar into the GPS, started the engine and slowly rolled out of the alley and onto the road.

    On the way to the bar, Tracy drove past a pharmacy and remembered that she was out of wipes.

    Among other things.

    She parked and jogged across the almost empty parking lot. Ten minutes later she re-emerged, carrying two large, plain bags and a third bag full of ice. Opening the side door of the van, Tracy tossed one of the bags inside before tipping the cooler, pouring out the mostly melted ice inside. After she refilled it with new ice, she put six cans of energy drinks inside along with a box full of the power bars she had sworn only last week to never eat again. The last couple of things in the bag, a new box of wipes, some crackers and a bottle of water, were all stashed between the seats. Then Tracy was off again.

    Twenty minutes later, Tracy stopped across the street from Pandora's Box. She double-checked the address, then called Mike.

    "Mike? You do know this is a strip club, and not a bar, right?"

    "They make a killer mojito, therefore it's a bar," Mike argued

    Tracy rolled her eyes.

    "Whatever," Tracy said as she rolled her eyes. She knew better than to argue against booze logic. "Anyway, I'm in place."

    "Great. I should be there in..." Mike paused for a moment, "...ten minutes." Then he hung up.

    "I guess I might as well make myself comfortable then," Tracy said to the empty car. She slid across to the passenger side and slid the seat back as far as it would go to give herself legroom. Then she sat back and relaxed.

    Looking at the entrance to the strip club, Tracy got a sneaking feeling that she was going to be watching the car for quite a while here.

    Mike's probably on a first name basis with at least three of the dancers in there.

    Tracy got up and slipped between the seats to the back of the van. There she found the other bag from the pharmacy. She reached inside to tear open the packaging and brought out a fresh diaper. It had felt awkward and embarrassing as hell to buy them, but she had kept telling herself it was only for a week. Tracy quickly unfolded the diaper and put it on, this time getting out of the beanbag and pulling her underwear and pants up instead of staying seated with her pants around her ankles.

    Tracy got back to the front seat and checked the GPS. It would still be another couple of minutes before Mike arrived. She settled in, finding a small camera and training it on the parking space that would give her the best possible angle to watch the car. When Mike was close enough, she called him to tell him where to park and then the waiting game started up again.

    There was too much movement around the car to use a motion sensor so Tracy had to actually watch the car herself instead of letting the cameras do the job and then warn her when something happened. That meant no books or games. Just old-fashioned waiting and watching. Watching and waiting.

    Tracy's hunch had been correct and more than two hours later, Mike was still inside. The water bottle was long gone and so were half the crackers. Tracy yawned and brushed some crumbs off her chest. Then she scooted further back in the seat and put her feet up on the dashboard. Despite almost having her knees in her face and having her butt on display, Tracy found this position quite comfortable. She would never sit like that if the van's windows weren't tinted, but as long as nobody could see her, she would sit however she wanted; even if that meant sitting like she was at a gynaecologist whose examination room was the size of a shopping cart.

    Tracy stared at Mike's car between her shoes, moving them to create an imaginary gunsight centred on the car in front of Mike's.

    Pew pew pew, Ka-boom! One less ugly Toyota in the world.

    She moved her feet to the right, training her imaginary death ray on the door to Pandora's Box.

    OK Mike, you have ten second to get out of there before I break down the door and vaporise the whole place; mojitos and all.

    The threat didn't work. Tracy returned her attention to Mike's car. It looked just like it had ten seconds ago, and twenty, and seven thousand.

    At least there's one way to make the wait more fun.

    Tracy shook her head. She was not going to wet herself just for fun. It was one thing to use the diapers when she absolutely had no other option; something else entirely to do it just for fun.

    She turned on the radio and switched to a random frequency hoping to distract herself. It was an oldies station and sixty-year-old music filled the car.

    ...Fill my glass high the time has come

    I'm going back to the place that I love yellow river

    Yellow river, yellow river is in my mind and in m...

    "Riiiiiight." Tracy switched to a different station. The final chords of a song rang out.

    "And that was 'Love Is All Around' by Wet Wet Wet," the DJ said.

    "Seriously?" Tracy reached for the button to switch stations again.

    ...a supersonic man out of you.

    Don't stop me now, I'm having such a good time,

    I'm having a ball.

    Don't stop me now.

    If you wanna have a good time, just give me a call.

    Don't stop me now. 'Cause I'm having a good time.

    Don't stop me now. Yes, I'm havin' a good time.

    I don't want to stop at all...

    "Are you trying to tell me something?" Tracy asked the universe in general. She turned the radio off. The sudden silence felt almost artificial.

    You know, you are allowed to live a little. Nobody's going to know.

    Tracy began to wonder if she was going nuts. Arguing with yourself was rarely a good sign, especially if you had to admit the voices in your head made a good point. After all, it wasn't as if she liked the sensation of wetting herself. She just liked the way Kat's chip made her feel when she did.

    You're just getting yourself off, but without using your hands.

    Tracy looked at the clock on the dashboard and decided to give it five more minutes.

    The three hundred seconds crept by more slowly than molasses in January and Tracy grew more bored with every inaudible tick. Bored and restless.

    OK, I can control this. Just a little bit. Not enough to make me lose control. I need to stay focused.

    Tracy took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, trying to relax. Doing so while still watching Mike's car was proving tricky. She breathed in again, and out. In and out, in and out.

    Eventually, Tracy felt the pressure in her bladder increase ever so slightly. She slid a little forward in her seat, making the waistband of her pants press more tightly against her stomach. And then, finally, the tiniest of trickles; barely noticeable, but just enough to provoke a delightful itch. Tracy smiled and sighed. A couple of minutes later, she managed another little trickle and was rewarded with a new little tingle.

    The next half hour or so went by without Tracy even noticing it. She just sat there with her feet on the dashboard, a big smile on her face and a diaper that very slowly became wetter. It felt odd to admit it, even if it was only to herself, but the wet diaper didn't feel as gross as she had felt the first times she had one. Of course that was probably just because the chip was giving her a little tickle every time she added to it. After all, the way she was sitting, the wet diaper felt like a velvet hand cupping her crotch.

    Tracy was just about to try to reach the cooler behind the seat when her phone rang. She fumbled it out and managed to drop it on the floor. Tracy swore and slid her feet down from the dashboard to sit up straight. As she did, her diaper shifted, which was a new sensation for her. It felt a bit like sitting down on a gel-filled beanbag. As far as Tracy could tell, it didn't trigger the chip, but it was by no means unpleasant. Just different. Tracy bent down to pick up the phone and answer it.

    "Well you certainly took your time," Mike said. "Did I catch you at a bad time or something?"

    "Look who's talking. Did you have a good time with Candi?"

    "Candi doesn't work here. It's Krystal." Mike stopped, realising he had exposed his cunning deception. "Not that I talked to her today," he added quickly, trying to fix his mistake.

    "Of course you didn't." Tracy's voice was positively dripping with irony. "You've been busy talking to your client for three hours."

    "Look, is the car clean?"

    "Yeah. Nobody's stopped near it long enough to plant anything."

    "OK, I have a to go on a stakeout today, so I'll be in the car the rest of the day. You don't really have to watch it any more today."

    "OK, I'll head home then."

    "And if we don't see anything tomorrow, I'm calling the whole thing off and just paying for secure parking instead.

    "Works for me." Tracy faked a yawn.

    "So I'll see you tomorrow? Nine-ish?"

    "Sure," Tracy said and hung up. Only seconds later, Mike came out of the strip club and walked over to his car. After a quick check, he gave Tracy a thumbs up and got in. Tracy sighed with relief. While the yawn had been fake, she was feeling absolutely beat.

    Tracy opened the door. She wanted to stretch her legs a little before going home. As she swung her legs out, the wet diaper shifted again. Tracy decided that despite the knowledge that it was a urine-soaked diaper that was rubbing against her, it didn't feel disgusting. She'd even go so far as to call it 'interesting'.

    After having walked a couple of laps around the car, Tracy felt that she had worked most of the kinks out of her legs and back. She opened the side door of the van and stepped inside. Even if it didn't feel terrible, she didn't want to do the whole drive home in a wet diaper. Tracy pulled down her pants and stood bow-legged as she undid the tapes. The diaper almost fell off her, but she caught it at the last moment. After rolling it up and putting it in one of the bags from the pharmacy, Tracy cleaned herself as best as she could with the wipes. She would have to take a proper shower when she came home.


    Thanks to five-car pile-up, it took Tracy more than an hour to get back home. She had originally planned on getting some Chinese takeaway, but by the time was nearing her neighbourhood, she was willing to settle for a microwave burrito. Tracy parked the van as always and brought all her gear, as well as the diapers she had bought, up to her office. She didn't need to charge any of her equipment, so she just put it all in its place next to the door.

    OK, shower first? Or food?

    Basic hygiene won out and Tracy headed for the bathroom. Once there, she quickly shed her clothes and sat down on the toilet. Emptying her bladder brought an expected rush of pleasure, although it felt weaker, more subdued somehow. It was certainly different from what she had experienced earlier. Tracy hated to admit it, but she was almost a little disappointed.

    The shower felt glorious. Rinsing off all that stake-out sweat made Tracy feel cleaner than she had been all week. Afterwards, dressed only in her favourite bathrobe, Tracy raided the tiny freezer in her fridge and found a frozen burrito. She removed the plastic and put it in the microwave to defrost. While she waited, Tracy slumped down on the sofa, stretching her legs. She debated whether she should get started on the final report for Mike, ultimately deciding against it. She doubted whoever booby-trapped his car would do it again as soon as the next day, but you never know. For the time being, she would just relax and wait for the burrito.

    Tracy woke up to a dark apartment and a wet spot on the right collar of her bathrobe. She rubbed her eyes and wiped the drool from the corner of her mouth.

    "Damn, why do I keep falling asleep on the sofa?" Tracy stretched her stiff neck. Then she remembered what had happened the previous night and her hand flew to her crotch. She gave a sigh of relief when she found that she was still dry.

    "Well, no point in taking any chances," Tracy said and got up. She pulled one of the diapers from the pack and was about to unfold it when she stopped.

    Hang on, the bathroom is right here. Why did I get a diaper instead?

    Tracy sighed again and tossed the diaper onto her bed before going to the kitchen. She checked on the burrito in the microwave. It might have been warm hours ago, but now it was just a soggy mess of congealed fat, cheese and whatever was pretending to be meat. She threw it out and went to brush her teeth.


    When Tracy woke up, her bedroom was unusually quiet. She glanced at the alarm clock and saw that it would be more than half an hour before it would go off. Next she slid a hand down and checked her diaper. It was dry. Tracy smiled and carefully slid a hand inside it. It wasn't something she'd normally do in the morning, but then again, she didn't normally wake up this early. Tracy kicked off the blanket and slid her t-shirt up to fondle her breasts. She didn't even care if somebody could see her through the window simply by peeking through the blinds with a pair of binoculars while sitting on a really tall stepladder on top of the water tower on the roof of the building across the street.

    Tracy wasn't in any hurry, but eventually she began to approach an orgasm. She skirted the edge for a while, pulling her hand out and stroking through the diaper, using the padding to dampen her touch. Then at the last moment, she let go, flooding her diaper and triggering the chip.

    For a while afterwards, Tracy just lay there, catching her breath, her body glistening with sweat. She felt the diaper swell under her hand and gave it gentle, little squeezes.

    "Well, that was different," Tracy said to the empty room. She reached behind her ear to finger the plastic cover of the chip port.

    Just five more days of this. I might as well make the best of it.

    Tracy tried to give herself one last buzz before having to get up, but her bladder remained disappointingly empty; regardless of how many babbling brooks and dripping faucets she thought of. With a grunt of effort, she sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. The resulting squishing sensation brought a little smile to her face. She pulled off the t-shirt and waddled across the room to the bathroom, wearing only the diaper. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and stopped to look at herself.

    What the hell is up with me. A week ago just walking around naked in here would have freaked me out. Now look at me.

    Tracy took off her diaper and put it in a trash bag. She caught a whiff of the smell from it, which reminded her that morning pee was a lot more concentrated than the afternoon variety.

    The smell might become a problem. Somehow I don't think an air freshener is going to be a practical solution. I'm going to have to figure out how to minimise it.

    She hopped in the shower, letting the chilly water wake her up as well as clean her. Getting out before the water reached that comfortable, relaxing temperature, Tracy quickly dried herself before going to prepare her supplies for another day of staking out Mike's car. She was about to open the fridge when she realised she was still naked and dashed back to the bathroom to wrap herself in her bathrobe.

    What the hell is going on? How could I not notice I was naked? I'm going to have to ask Kat if she put any more surprises in that chip.

    Tracy pulled out her phone and was about to call Kat when she realised it was still early and maybe she didn't have to wake her up. She could call later. Tracy grabbed a post-it note from her desk, wrote 'Are you dressed properly?' on it and stuck it to the inside of her front door.

    There. That should remind me before I make a complete fool of myself.

    Tracy had just finished packing her things into her backpack when she realised she was probably going to need a couple of diapers as well. Grabbing an old messenger bag, she stuffed three diapers and a towel inside and strapped it to her backpack.

    And now I literally have a diaper bag.

    Tracy checked the time and decided it was time to get dressed. She grabbed a clean t-shirt and socks and found her jeans. She was about to find some underwear when she had a thought.

    I could just put on a diaper.

    She considered it. It would save some time. And it wasn't like they'd be visible under her jeans. Also, they weren't uncomfortable. In fact, Tracy had to admit she liked the feeling of a little extra padding. She put some underwear in her diaper bag and grabbed one more diaper from the pack.

    After she had put on the diaper and her clothes, Tracy checked herself out in the bathroom mirror. There was no way you could tell she was wearing a diaper. She grabbed an apple and her gear and headed downstairs.

    Jamal was in his place as always. He looked up from his customary newspaper, a pencil stuck under his nose like an absurd moustache. He smiled at Tracy, making the pencil fall.

    "Well you're looking a lot better than yesterday," Jamal said as he picked up the pencil.

    "I feel a lot better too Jamal. The benefits of a good night's sleep you know."

    Jamal nodded in agreement. "Oh by the way, can you figure out this one? The clue is 'H, I, J, K, L, M, N, O'. Five letters, the fourth one is 'E'." Jamal showed Tracy the crossword.

    Tracy stared at it for a moment, but nothing came to mind. "Sorry," she said. "No idea."

    Jamal shrugged. "Oh well. I'll figure it out eventually." He put the pencil back under his nose and returned his focus to the crossword puzzle.

    Tracy loaded her gear into the car and headed out. She was in place near Mike's office a quarter to nine. She turned on the screen and connected to the cameras. The battery in one of them was down to thirty percent, so Tracy went to put in a fully charged one. When she had finished and was back in the car, she called Mike.

    "Good morning sir, this is your scheduled wake-up call. The time is get to work so your friend doesn't have to sit here and stare at an empty parking space."

    "Very funny Trace. And for your information, I'm already in the car. I should at the office in ten minutes or so."

    "Any client meetings today? Or stripper visits?"

    "Very funny. I have a meeting at one. In my office. But other than that my schedule is wide open. Why? Want to come over?"

    "Knowing what you've probably done in your office; not a chance."

    "Hey! Give me a little credit here. I don't mix business and pleasure."

    Tracy coughed.

    "Fine. I don't mix business and pleasure in the office."

    Tracy chuckled. "Anyway, the cameras are up and running and everything is looking good here."

    "OK. Won't be long." Mike hung up.

    Tracy slipped between the seats to the back of the van and settled down in the beanbag, studying the camera feeds. They were all showing Mike's empty parking space. She made sure the motion sensors were on and then found her tablet. She had some research that needed to be done.


    Three hours later, Tracy decided it was time to wake up Kat. She dug out the phone and called her. It didn't take long for her to answer it.

    "Hey Tracy," she said cheerfully. Kat was either one of those people who woke up cheerful or she had been up a while. Tracy hoped for the latter. There was nothing worse than waking up to someone who farted sunshine and rainbows in the morning.

    Why am I even worried about what Kat's like to wake up to?

    Tracy shook her head a little to clear it. "Hey Kat. I didn't wake you, did I?"

    "Oh god no. Dieter started crushing cars hours ago."

    "You mean Diego?"

    "You can call him that, but I'm calling him by his real name. Anyway, what's up?"

    "I was just wondering about something about the chip."


    "Did you include any..." Tracy hesitated, "...extra features?"

    "Extra features?"

    "Anything to, I don't know, change my behaviour or something?"

    "What do you mean?" Kat sounded genuinely confused.

    "Never mind. It's stupid."

    "No seriously Tracy, what happened?"

    "It's just... This morning, I forgot to put on clothes after I showered. I was in the kitchen before I realised it."


    "I'm not like you. That's totally unlike me. And this morning, I didn't even keep my blanket on when I-" Tracy stopped.

    Kat chuckled on the other end. "Sounds like you're loosening up a little, that's all."

    "What do you mean?"

    "Look, don't take this the wrong way, but when I first met you you were more uptight than, than... Well, let's just say you were really uptight. Maybe you having a little fun is helping you take things a little easier."

    "You don't exactly sound sure about this." Tracy took a sip of water.

    "It's not like I'm a shrink or anything. I'm just making an educated guess here," Kat admitted


    "But was it horrible, Häschen?" Tracy was pretty sure she could hear a smile on Kat's voice.

    "Not exactly," Tracy admitted after a slight pause.

    "There you go then. You might as well enjoy it while it lasts." There was a loud crash, followed by Kat's rapid-fire German that Tracy couldn't understand. "Sorry about that," Kat said when she returned. "Uncle Dieter dropped a wreck by mistake. So what else is new? Still watching that car?"

    Tracy was about to answer when she felt a small, warm bloom in her crotch. She had wet herself a little without even thinking about it. She gasped as the chip kicked in, sending that now-familiar tingle down her spine to radiate out from that little, wet spot. That caused Tracy to let out another little squirt, leading to more tingles. It really was a vicious circle, if something as pleasant as this could be called vicious.

    "Did you just..." Kat asked in a tone that was usually reserved for revealing state secrets in spy movies.

    Tracy didn't answer.

    "You did, didn't you?"

    Tracy felt embarrassed that somebody had caught her wetting herself, and enjoying it. "Yes," she finally admitted in a whisper. "But... But... It's not l-"

    "Shh-shh-shh mein Häschen," Kat said soothingly. "It's all right. You can't help it if the chip is making you feel good."

    "You don't think it's weird and creepy?" Tracy almost felt like crying.

    "Tracy?" Kat switched again, now sounding like the most sensible person in the world. "You wetting your diapers doesn't even make it to my weirdest top ten list this month."


    "Trust me. And besides, it's kind of my fault. After all, I made the chip," Kat pointed out. "And I've seen you do it already too, remember?"

    "You have?"

    "When you were online. I was sitting right next to you. Did you forget about that?"


    "Anyway, I have to go stop Uncle Dieter from crushing the cars that haven't been stripped yet. He's not taking Jessie's accident so well."

    "Okay. Talk to you later."

    For a few seconds after Kat hung up, Tracy sat there listening to the dead line. She had not expected that. For a while, Tracy just sat there, not concerned about changing her wet diaper.

    Was it the chip that made it feel OK, or what Kat had said? Or maybe I'm just getting used to it.

    The beeping from one of the motion detectors brought Tracy out of her reverie. Somebody was standing next to Mike's car, leaning over the windscreen. Tracy called Mike.

    "Mike, I think we may have something. This guy has been doing something for ten-fifteen seconds now."

    "What does he look like?"

    "Medium build, kind of tall, dark hair, wearing a decent-looking, black suit. I'll shoot you a pic as soon as he turns around." Just then, the man turned around and walked out of view of the cameras.

    "Shit. He managed to keep his face off the cameras. I'll see if he shows up on the other cameras. You want to check the car?"

    "Yep. Be right there," Mike said and hung up.

    Tracy sat up, ignoring the squish as she did, and patched herself into the four other surveillance cameras she had managed to hack her way into these last couple of days. She couldn't see the man anywhere, but kept looking. The her phone rang.

    "False alarm," Mike said when she answered.

    "The guy was just putting out pamphlets for the..." Mike paused, "Second Reformed Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, Las Vegas Conference of 2029. They really need to find a shorter name."

    "You sure? It could just be a decoy."

    "If it is, he did one hell of a job. There's one on almost every car in here."

    "OK, but make sure anyway."

    "Of course."

    Mike hung up and Tracy continued her search for the man. Twenty minutes later she found him. He had been caught on one of the cameras outside the parking garage six minutes earlier and this time she had his face. Tracy sent the picture to Mike, asking if he looked familiar. The only answer she got was a text message saying 'Nope.'

    Another couple of minutes passed before the face recognition software on Facebook managed to find more pictures of the man.

    "Mike? The guy's name is Jonathan Martin and he's a legitimate preacher. You haven't been messing around with any preachers' wives lately?"


    "Or daughters?"

    "Seriously Trace. Anyway, the car's clean, and I have a meeting. If we don't have anything by the end of the day, I say we call it quits."

    "Fine by me," Tracy said. "I'll send you my bill."

    "Do I at least get the friends and family discount, he said hopefully. After all, I've sent some work your way."

    Tracy hated to admit it, but the clients Mike had referred to her had saved her business more than once. "Yeah, sure," she said with a sigh before hanging up.

    Tracy cut the feed from the hacked surveillance cameras and the screen was once again dominated by the multi-angle view of Mike's car. Next she got out of the beanbag. Running her hands over her butt, Tracy was relieved there were no leaks. She quickly dropped her pants and took off the diaper. After cleaning herself, Tracy had a moment where she thought about what to wear. Her underwear ended up staying in the diaper bag as she pulled out a fresh diaper and taped it in place. Tracy quickly slipped outside to throw the used diaper in the trash before settling back down in front of the screen.

    The next couple of hours went by with nothing really interesting happening. Tracy was bored. So terribly, utterly, mind-numbingly bored. Even the thought of a good book didn't appeal to her. The previous day, while watching Mike's car outside the strip club, at least there had been people to watch, but inside the parking garage there were nobody. So when Tracy began to feel that familiar pressure, she was actually relieved.

    At least that's one way to pass the time.

    Ten minutes later, Tracy was lying in the beanbag with her jeans around her ankles, playing with herself through her wet diaper. Her pee-tingles had just needed a little help from her fingers to bring her right up to the edge of an orgasm. She completely lost herself as she stroked and squeezed her way across the finish line.

    Afterwards, Tracy just lay back, reveling in the afterglow. She was amazed at how unprofessional she was becoming. Just a few days ago she would never have done something like this while on a job. It wouldn't impact this job since she had other systems keeping an eye on things, but Tracy hoped that she would be able to stay focused once she no longer had the chip. But if she was being honest, she wasn't a hundred percent sure she wouldn't miss it.

    Tracy was pulling her jeans up to cover a fresh diaper when her phone rang. It was Mike. She finished buttoning the pants before answering.

    "Anything?" he asked.

    "Not a thing. You know how we say that boring is good 'cause exciting is dangerous?"


    "I think I could handle a little danger now."

    "Yeah, sorry about this being a waste of time. I'll make it up to you. I need someone to identify a whole bunch of people from just pictures. Feel up for it? I'll give you a quarter of what the client's paying me."

    Tracy thought about it. It would be easy money; more waiting than actual work since the computer would be doing most of the heavy lifting. "OK," she said. "But what about your car?"

    "Let's give it another couple of hours. If we don't have anything by six, I'll just move it to a secure parking garage for the time being."

    Tracy checked the time. Three hours. She could manage that. "In the meantime, do you mind sending me those pictures?"

    "Sure, just give me a little while."

    The mad bomber didn't show up that afternoon, and Tracy had mixed feelings about it. On one hand, she hated leaving a case unfinished. But on the other hand, she didn't have to deal with somebody who was crazy, and dangerous, enough to put a hand grenade in a car. After all, if you could get your hands on one hand grenade, getting half a dozen wouldn't be much harder.

    When Mike had sad that it was a whole bunch of people he needed identified, he hadn't been kidding. He had photographed everybody who entered a cheap motel over the whole evening before.

    Well, nobody's ever going to accuse him of not being thorough.

    The three hours before giving up on their wait for the mad bomber gave Tracy time to figure out just two of the twenty-six people Mike had sent her pictures of. And one of those two had been the cleaning lady.

    By the time Mike officially ended the case, Tracy's bladder was filling up again. She made a mental note to have a better air conditioner put in the car. Having to drink this much to avoid dehydration in the hot interior of the car shouldn't be necessary. She considered having a little celebration to mark the end of the case, but decided against it. She could hold it until she got home.

    She rolled out of the alley and drove to the parking garage. There were no parking spots outside, so she prepaid for the shortest possible period and drove inside. It took her just under twenty minutes to take down the cameras she had used and stow them.

    Tracy stopped on the way home to grab some groceries. The next couple of days would be spent in the office instead of in the back of her van, so that meant more room, a more comfortable temperature and most importantly, access to proper food. Her stomach was beginning to protest the constant stream of power bars and energy drinks.

    When she walked out of the store, it dawned on Tracy that she was still wearing her diaper. Obviously nobody could tell through her jeans, but it still struck her as strange how quickly she had gotten used to wearing her diaper. Just a few days earlier, she would have been mortified at the mere thought of going somewhere public while wearing a diaper; even if it was a dry one. Tracy put the bags of groceries in the passenger-side footwell and continued on her way.

    Getting all her equipment out of the car and up to her office took two trips and by the time she dragged the suitcase through her front door, Tracy was sweating like a pig. She closed the door behind her and peeled off her t-shirt and sports bra before walking over to the air-conditioner. She just stood in front of it, hands against the wall, letting the marginally cooler air wash over her. Then she wet herself. The cool air and the sensation of the warm, wet diaper felt wonderful. It just felt... right. For a long while, Tracy just stood there, her brain just idling.

    Why did I just do that? The bathroom's right over there.

    All good things must come to an end, and eventually Tracy had to waddle off in search on clean clothes. She undid her jeans and pulled them down. Free from the constricting pants, the diapers sagged a little bit, but they felt less full. Tracy decided that changing them could wait a little. She pulled on a pair of sweat pants and a clean t-shirt and went to the kitchen to put away the groceries. Then she tended to the other chores, plugging her equipment in to charge and connecting her laptop to her home system.

    When she sat down at her desk, Tracy couldn't help giggling a little at the squish. She checked her news feed. Nothing big jumped out at her from the headlines, so she did a more thorough check, but still came up empty. Apparently nothing important had happened since she last checked, so after half an hour, Tracy went to take a shower. Then, with a fresh diaper and far less hair downstairs, Tracy went to bed. She watched a couple of episodes of her favorite series before nodding off.


    Tracy woke up the next morning with her thumb in her mouth and a wet diaper, and she didn't even think twice about it. It was just a matter of taking a quick shower, some baby powder and a fresh diaper. It wasn't that she needed the diaper. After all, the bathroom was right there, but Tracy had to admit that she actually liked the way it felt.

    Tracy spent the next three days in front of her computer; sometimes diapered, sometimes not. In addition to the minimal work she had to do at the beginning of each search, she would read, catch up on news and binge-watch series. She would also masturbate more frequently than she had since she was seventeen.

    It was late afternoon and Tracy was down to five unidentified faces when her phone beeped.

    "Kat here. Ready for our date?" the message read.

    "Date? I think we need to talk" Tracy texted back.

    "OK. Coming up" was the immediate reply.

    She's here? Shitshitshitshitshit!

    Tracy looked around frantically. She jumped out of her chair and swept the empty bottles on her desk into the wastepaper basket before grabbing the takeout boxes and dumping them in the kitchen sink. She just had time to grab a t-shirt and pull it on before there was a knock on her door. Tracy ran to open it. Kat was wearing a black, leather motorcycle jacket and black jeans. For a moment, Tracy wondered how she could wear something like that in this heat.

    "Kat," she said. "I didn't expect you to drop by."

    "Well, the week is almost up and I'm pretty sure I'm winning the bet." Kat sat down on the sofa.

    "Oh really?"

    "Yes really."

    "And what makes you so sure?"

    "Oh, a couple of things." Kat leaned back. "First of all, I'm not going to ask if you're wearing a diaper right now because I can see it sticking up over your waistband."

    Tracy looked down and quickly adjusted her pants.

    "So why are you wearing them when the bathroom is right over there?" Kat held up her hands. "Wait, don't answer that. Come sit down." She patted the seat next to her.

    Tracy sat down. "So..." she began.

    "You like using them," Kat interrupted.

    "It's 'cause of the chip," Tracy protested.

    "Yeah, about that... There's a couple of things you should know. I guess I should start with the VR you were in. Imagine that the VR is a Skinner box and you're the rat in the box. The first time you wet yourself in the VR, you didn't do it for real. That was the system showing you what to do and then giving you the reward for doing it. The second time you wet yourself in the VR, you did do it for real, but again you got the reward; because you did what the system wanted you to do. Do you see where I'm going with this?"

    "It's like you said: Do what the system wants and you get a reward." Tracy felt a lot more comfortable talking about something in abstract terms like this.

    "Yes, so the chip works pretty much the same way, which we both know that you found out pretty quickly." Kat held up her hand, mimicking a phone.

    Tracy blushed.

    "So have you had a fun week?" Kat wiggled her eyebrows which only made Tracy blush more.

    Kat continued. "Obviously the chip didn't make you incontinent so you've been wetting yourself of your own accord. Unless you've only done it in your sleep. And since you're wearing diapers now, I'm guessing that's not the case."

    "Yeah," Tracy admitted quietly, looking down at her hands.

    Kat put a hand on her cheek and lifted her head. "It's OK Häschen. That was the point of the chip. It was meant to sort of give you permission, or maybe an excuse, to use diapers."

    "What do you mean 'excuse'? Whenever I wet myself, I had an orgasm," Tracy said defensively.

    "Really? Think back. When was the last time you came just from peeing? Without any... let's call it 'outside assistance'."

    Tracy almost said 'an hour ago', but stopped. She thought back. Peeing had always gotten her started, but an actual orgasm like the ones she had the first couple of times... "Five days ago," she finally said.

    Kat smiled. "The chip is a placebo, Häschen. The first couple of days it helped you associate peeing with pleasure, but after that it's been doing absolutely nothing."

    "But I keep getting... you know..." Tracy struggled to find the right words.

    "Horny?" Kat helped out.

    "Yeah. Whenever I pee."

    Kat smiled. "That's all you. The chip has nothing to do with it."

    Tracy looked at Kat. "But I'm not..." she began, but stopped as Kat put a finger to her lips.

    "I'll prove it," she said. "Stand up." Kat got to her feet and gave Tracy's arm a little pull.

    "OK, now take out the chip."

    Tracy reached behind her ear. She peeled off the plastic cover and ejected the chip. There wasn't the usual itching sensation that usually came from disconnecting. She held out the chip to Kat.

    "Nah, you can keep it as a souvenir," Kat said and smiled.

    Tracy put the chip on her desk and turned back to face Kat.

    Kat smiled sweetly at her. "Now, I want you wet your diaper."


    "You heard me."

    "I can't do that. Not in front of you," Tracy protested.

    "Why not? You've already done it twice. Once when you were in the VR-"

    "That doesn't count. That wasn't me; it was the VR."

    "No it wasn't. And once on the phone, or did you forget about that?"

    "No, but this is different," Tracy said.

    "I know. Come here." Kat held out her arms to Tracy. When she came close enough, Kat pulled her into an embrace for a moment before backing out of it. "Hang on, you're too tall for this."

    Kat walked back to the sofa, kicked off her shoes and stood on the edge of it. "OK, let's try now."

    Tracy walked over to Kat and got a second hug. Kat stroked her back and let her rest her head on her shoulder. "Now, just relax," Kat murmured soothingly.

    "I can't," Tracy mumbled into Kat's shoulder.

    "Shh-shh-shh. Just relax. Breathe in and breathe out. In, and out. Just don't worry about anything. I'm here for you. I'll take care of everything. Just breathe in, and out."

    Tracy leaned against Kat, inhaling the scent of leather with a hint of... smoke? Barbecue, maybe? Kat ran her fingers through her hair and just whispered quietly to her. It all felt very safe and relaxing. And that's when she felt it: That familiar little trickle into the waiting diaper. And right on cue, the chip kicked in, causing that wonderful tingling sensation to radiate out.

    No, not the chip. Is this really me? Am I this way?

    Tracy stiffened.

    "What's wrong Häschen?"

    "I..." Tracy began, but just buried her face in Kat's shoulder.

    "It's OK. I'm here." Kat just kept stroking Tracy's back and whispering reassuringly to her.

    "But I'm a freak," Tracy said, blinking back tears of shame. "I thought it was the chip, but it wasn't and now you know it and I... This is just too weird and gross"

    "I don't think you're weird or gross. Don't you remember what I told you? This doesn't even make it to this month's top ten list. And besides, you've done weirder things than this online, right?

    "Mm-hmm?" Tracy agreed hesitantly.

    "So what's the difference if you do something in VR or in real life? Except the cleanup afterwards, I mean."

    "It's still different."

    "You're no more freaky now than you were a week ago, or a month ago. You're just more aware of what you like. That only makes you a little different than a week ago. And to be honest, less boring."

    Tracy pulled away from Kat and looked at her. Her eyes shiny from almost crying. Kat leaned closer and kissed her cheek. Tracy wrapped her arms around Kat again and just held her close while Kat ran her fingers through her hair.

    For a while, they just stood there, then Tracy mumbled something.

    "What was that?" Kat asked

    Tracy turned her head. "I said 'what does Häschen mean'."

    "Häschen? It means 'little bunny'."

    "So I'm your little bunny?"

    "Mm-hmm. And does my little bunny need to change her diaper before going out on a date?"

    Tracy wrinkled her nose in her best rabbit impression. "Maybe," she said coyly. "Do you want to help me?"

    Last edited by Gummybear; 06-26-2019, 01:46:15 PM. Reason: Fixed continuity error

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  • kerry
    I'm really enjoying this. It's such a different feel from everything else out there, and I love the tech. Not to mention that both Tracy and Kat are fun characters (esp. Kat).

    Leave a comment:

  • Gummybear
    The next couple of days went by without Tracy hearing anything from Kat. Not that they weren't busy. It took her a day to finish the final report for Ms. Devereux. She removed any trace of her false identity from the files before copying all of them, except those from the second visit to the web site, to the case thumb drive. Then she called and set up a meeting.

    Ms. Devereux had taken the news about her husband not actually cheating on her, but rather running an online sex club for people who liked wearing diapers, and technically dealing semi-legal digital drugs, remarkably well. In fact, by the time she left, Tracy suspected that Ms. Devereux might just help run the business.

    She had also pointed out the questionable legality of some of the code the site was using while also emphasising the whole client confidentiality thing. After the meeting, Tracy checked her bank account and saw this had paid off as there was a generous bonus in addition to her fee and expenses.

    On day three, Tracy was just about to call Ka