For Her Good

Chapter 5: Panty Sendoff

On Friday, Mari couldn't wait for six pm to arrive. Months and months of denying herself diapers had boiled down to just a few hours of underwear. After breakfast, she took all of her panties but the pair she was wearing and put them in the apportioned shoebox. She admired the empty drawer in her dresser. The sign of a grown woman unearning long-owned privileges. She finally went to the box wedged beside her bed and opened it. She left the box like a wrapper on Christmas and arranged the two packages she'd found within the box on the bed.

In total, there were only thirty-two diapers. If she kept herself to two diapers a day, the supply would barely last her two weeks. And Mari would definitely fill more than two diapers per day. She blushed when she imagined how she could potentially go through as many in a week. What would Sir think? Was there a level of sogginess that could ever call into question Sir's bank account?

As Roseanna and Harriet gathered themselves to head out for work, she snuggled in her bed and played with herself so hard that she almost broke Sir's rule. If they returned home late from work, she might never be around them again as anything other than a diapergirl.

Work was a hazy mess. She could barely pay attention as support tickets came in. She prayed that she responded appropriately and wouldn't get a reprimand about how she found only suboptimal solutions for her clients.

When her morning coffee began to work, she held it. She went to the bathroom, but only to pee. She wondered if she could hold it all day, and mess herself as soon as her first diaper was on in the evening. Maybe even when the webcam was on, when Sir was watching. A very stinky first impression. But it was a pipe dream. The growing urgency frayed her concentration even more, and she was worried that she was becoming too aroused to do her job at all.

Eventually she sucked it up and went to the toilet. For old time's sake, she figured. A sendoff to the wretched potty.

She pulled down her clothes and sat her bare bottom on the seat. What little pee she had left sprinkled into the toilet below her. Her daily constitutional wanted to come out too. She was indeed potty trained, and the position and context of her body heightened her urgency to imminent. Twenty-eight years of life, mostly doing it this way. Pavlov's poopytime.

Mari held it in. It took effort to restrain her long-ingrained habit.

She felt so horny. She felt so dumb.

Of all the things on Earth to find sexy, Mari was obsessed with this. She'd been to college and been to raves. She'd been a bridesmaid and had been to balls. When she got on the plane the flight attendant said right here ma'am. Her most recent ex-boyfriend loved giving her front-wedgies and slapping her pussy. She loved it because occasionally he would call her a dirty girl. She had dreams of opening a restaurant – no – a tea place. She wanted one with little private booths, where you could kneel or sit cross-legged on cushions with your back up to the wall. She wanted to be the person in the town, or the neighborhood, or maybe just the block, who tried really hard and owned the tea place and who everyone loved and they waved to her as she walked to work in the morning. And when she left the tea place at the end of the day, they'd be there to say hey come in, have a free drink, we love you.

And at the same time, she hated toilets.

Ever since she'd first messed a diaper in an alley, every trip to the toilet felt like a wasted opportunity. It felt like a trip to get gas, though nowadays she didn't have a car. Sitting there and wiping her butt with toilet paper afterwards – tedious. Unnecessary. Like going to church on Sundays. Of course, in these past years she'd still used the toilet more than she hadn't. Her stints of diapering were just islands in a sea of trying to be normal. Her upcoming arrangement, just hours away now, was like the shore, the real shore of the actual continent of simulated incontinence. The place of final rest after her lifelong swim.

Why did it have to be this?

One of the first things she'd ever done on this Earth was poop. It, along with having to pee, needing to drink, and needing to breathe, had been her constants. Her brain had formed from nascent lights and sounds to thoughts, college, and customer service. And still, the poop stayed primary. Her food had changed from mush to sweet to vegetables and meat, and still, just like in the beginning, she wanted the poop to just come out. It was the first step of growing up, the first thing of the past to be banished away. And for her youth and teens she had done an OK job.

Ehhh...she had had some mornings alone growing up too. That didn't matter now. But suffice to say, the urge was ancient.

In the bathroom, just seven hours until her arrangement, with her butthole calling to open up into the waiting water and pee below, Mari stood up. She fetched her panties (pink and white horizontal's stripes – TJ Maxx 3Pack $15.99). She stepped away from the toilet, flushed it, and went to the mirror.

She had a cute butt. Too bad she was burying it in diapers.

She had to stand on her toes to see it fully in the mirror. She made sure she was a few steps away from the counter and the sink. She didn't want collateral cleanup.

Brianna was in the kitchen. Making herself an early lunch. It was sometime past eleven – Mari had held it for a while. Mari told herself that she was doing nothing abnormal. She was pooping in the bathroom, after all.

That was another rule of Sir's. She could wet her diaper while she was brushing her teeth. She could piddle in the shower, like any self-respecting adult. But otherwise she could not, for any reason, go into a bathroom to do her business in her diaper.

Mari told herself that she had to dispel those nerves immediately. Brianna was going to be around. Brianna lived and worked here. And Mari's diapers were staying ON.

Despite her sordid, poopy history, and regardless of how badly she had to go, her body's reaction to standing up was not nearly as Pavlovian. She could hold it much longer, of course, though she would pay for her stoicism with gas. But the same gripping sense of immediacy she'd felt above the toilet had passed.

But she didn't have any sort of shyness.

Her nipples stiffened and her lips winced as she watched the first of it impacting the striped cloth that spanned her cheeks. She'd ruined enough TJ Maxx 3Packs to know already that this was gonna be big. A shame it wasn't in a diaper, and that she couldn't wear it, but a blessing, at least, that she got to watch it. Her diapers, designed for this sort of thing, wouldn't buck and tremble under the same circumstances. It wasn't like porn, most of the time, and it certainly wasn't like what she preferred on DeviantArt. But now, for the last time, her panties gave ground and she shivered in delight.

The panty sendoff.

It was over in seconds. Her poo was nestled in her panties, not yet staining the fabric. It wouldn't stay in there long enough to leave much of a mark. She admired the sag of the waistband, dipping below where it had been before, revealing a bit of her buttcrack where it hadn't earlier. "Boom," she whispered, surging once again with horniness.

She changed quickly. She found the wipes under the sink that she had pre-planted there for just this occasion. She gingerly lowered her panties and kicked the bath mat out of the way to avoid any spillage. Her sureness now was the hard earned reward of many brown mistakes. She'd sent off many TJ Maxx 3Packs. She dumped the contents of her panties into the toilet – too high – it made a splash. She giggled again.

"Are you having a good time in there?" Brianna asked from the living room.

She chose not to answer. Her lips were glued shut by embarrassment.

After flushing again, she laid the ruined panties in the trash bin. She cleaned her butt with the stashed wet-wipes, and deposited the dirty ones on top of the panties. Then she took a ream of TP and laid that on top of both, and then carefully pressed it all downwards so that her roommates wouldn't notice. She told herself to take out the trash later, when Brianna was done with lunch and back to work.

Cleaned, she washed her hands like she'd touched the plague. She wasn't into that type of scat.

And then, her sweatpants covering her pantiless bottom, she sprayed the bathroom with enough Febreze to choke a cow and exited to make herself lunch.