The Baby Mommy

The Munch

The munch was called The Monthly Mall Babyzone. The event page Molly had encountered online claimed that the munchgoers would gather at a table in the back of the food court. They said it was out of sight, out of the way completely from the main concourse of chairs and tables populated by the vanillas. But the munch wasn't hidden enough for Molly to not spot them immediately upon entering the food court. She saw the group, standing around in small conversation circles with a suspicious lack of shopping bags. They were dressed normally, they weren't wearing anything that someone wouldn't classify as vanilla. But despite knowing that the corner was where they would be, Molly had a sense that, if they had changed their plans and opted for a different corner, Molly would still have picked them out.

There were overalls and colorful shirts. There were hats with animals on them. Some people wore pins. There was an abandoned backpack on a table with a stuffed animal peeking out. And on closer inspection, some of their buts were clearly a bit puffier than hers.

First time in my life I don't have the biggest diaper!

When she approached, Molly noticed that the munch's 'secluded' spot was within the umbrella of aromas emanating from the food court's Panda Express.

And it was as far as possible from the bathrooms.

Figures.

She told herself that so long as her fellow kinksters did not hear, see, or smell her shit herself at the munch (her suspicion was that her butt was conspiring against her, and that she was all but doomed), they wouldn't ever have to know. She would scoot out of there if it happened, the party 'foul' nestled secretly in her pants. And, if she went to change in the bathroom...none of them would be there to notice, right?

Molly peed again as she approached the group. This time it was for real.

Classic.

I'm still probably the most accident-prone.

She immediately regretted not wearing her thicker diapers in favor of discretion, and contemplated running out to the car and getting her lone remaining 'Mr. President.' Or perhaps just leaving. She was due to mess herself at any moment, and it was practically irresponsible for someone to walk into such a social setting knowing how close they were to having a dirty diaper.

It would be...rather babyish...in fact.

"Miss Magoo!" said someone. The voice was a woman's. Molly ascertained the source, and found herself staring at none other than Brattysubkiss, who was breaking away from a pod of people to introduce herself.

Molly straightened out her dress as the woman approached. Molly was thirty, she reminded herself. And had faced down CEOs and investors and a whole panel of people to defend her thesis in a room where, for the first and last time, she was the least educated person present. She'd pissed her pants in many of those situations, and each time, she had handled it. She could handle any woman who called herself 'Creamy.'

Brattysubkiss stopped herself short of Molly. She drew herself inward and bit her lip. "Sorry," she said. "I kind-of-sort-of know who you are. I definitely saw your profile online." Brattysubkiss stuck out her hand. She seemed a different in-person than online to Molly. Partially, this was because she was now fully clothed, in contrast to her posted pictures. Instead of onesies or simply diapers, today, Creamy was wearing a romper. It was stylish, yet subtly childish. In fact, the only babyish thing about her appearance was that half of her hair had been drawn back in a ladybug hair clip, complete with a small sparkly red bow.

The romper betrayed what made her the most different from Molly's expectations. Unlike how she appeared in many of her online photos, Brattysubkiss wasn't one of the munchgoers who was clearly wearing a diaper.