This is the fifth part of Alicia’s story. You can start at the beginning here.
After my dad parked in our driveway, my sister got out in a huff and slammed her door. My dad rolled his eyes, then turned to me.
“Oh, good,” he said, “You pulled your skirt back up already. So, yeah, let’s just go to your room, and then we can talk and maybe get you changed.”
He got out of the car and I followed, sliding out with my backpack in hand. I slung it over my shoulder as I stood up.
“Maybe get me changed?” I asked, eyebrows raised.
“Yeah. We can talk about it in a minute.”
I followed him to my room and shut the door behind me. He sat on my bed, as per his usual, and I swiveled my office chair to face him. As I sat down on it, I could feel my warm turds squishing underneath me, compacting more than they already had in the car.
He must have seen some pleasure on my face, because he asked, “You think it feels good?”
I hesitated, not sure if that was weird, but I knew I needed to tell him the truth, so I ultimately confirmed: “Yeah, it feels pretty good.”
“Huh. Interesting. I wonder if other continent people would feel the same way. Personally, I’ve known the feeling my entire life, so it kinda just feels . . . normal.”
“Yeah. . . . So, down to business!” He smiled a goofy smile and clapped his hands together. “I would have talked to you in the car, but I didn’t want to risk your sister giving us a laugh track. So, before we start: you seemed confused that I said we’d maybe get you changed. Let me explain why I said that. Normally, you could change yourself, but you’re a beginner and there’s a pair of underwear full of poop in the mix here, so—”
I laughed, blushing a little.
He smiled, then continued: “—so either me or your mom will need to change you. If you want me to do it, then we can start now if you want. But I have a feeling you and I might both be more comfortable if your mom changes you. Now, she’s not gonna be home from work for about an hour and a half, but it’s still an option. For one thing, you think the poop feels good, so I’m guessing you won’t have a problem with waiting. And I think I told you this before, but let me remind you: we put some super advanced sanitization technology in these diapers, so you can sit in a poopy diaper for eight hours before there’s any risk at all.”
“Oh, right. You did say that. I mostly just remembered the odor blocking part.”
“That’s right! There’s that, too. That’s why Tonya was able to roll her window up halfway through our drive home and why I don’t smell any poop right now. Do you smell anything?”
I took a deep sniff, then shook my head, looking impressed. Then I had a thought: “You’re sure the sanitization stuff will work even though I have underwear between the poop and the diaper?”
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure. I mean, let me know if you start to feel uncomfortable. That could be a sign it’s not working. But I doubt there’ll be an issue. So, I’m guessing you want to wait for your mom?”
“Uh, yeah, I think so. No offense.”
“None taken, of course. I’m on board. Do you mind if I ask you some questions now?”
“Go ahead,” I said with a smile.
He thought for a moment. “How many times have you peed in the diaper since we talked this morning?”
“Uh, twice—Yeah, I think it was just twice.”
“Does it still feel completely dry?”
“Wait a sec,” I said as I grabbed the arms of my chair and lifted my butt off my seat. “I just realized I have to go again.”
I closed my eyes and tried to leave the world behind. Soon, pee was streaming out of me and flowing along my diaper. When I finished, I sat down, opened my eyes, and looked up. My dad was giving me a weird look. “What?” I asked.
He let out a laugh. “I’m just surprised. You’re adjusting much quicker than I anticipated. Peeing in front of me? Your mom still kicks me out of the bathroom if she has to pee while I’m brushing my teeth. She needs the privacy to go.”
“Well, I’m trying to adapt pretty quickly. The way I see it, I’ll get more out of the diapers if I can use them whenever, wherever. Like, today at school, I had to go to the bathroom to pee the first time, but later I forced myself to go in front of my friends because I knew my goal and wanted to work toward it.”
“Wow. That’s impressive.”
I shrugged with a smile. “Anyway, yes, the diaper still feels completely dry.”
“Awesome. That’s how it should be. Can I see your wetness indicators?”
I stood and gathered up the front of my skirt so he could see the front of the diaper. “The second level of wetness indicators is starting to get pink now,” he said. “Turn around?”
I did, and he lifted the back of my skirt. “It’s the same back here. Good. You probably won’t even get the second level all the way red before you get changed.”
“Yeah. You’ll have been in it close to twenty-four hours by then.”
“And it could last longer,” I said, amazed.
“Yeah. Maybe you can use the next one to full capacity.”
“Ooh. Challenge accepted.”
My dad laughed. “Knock yourself out.”
I smiled. “Any more questions?”
“Uh, no, but I do want to update you on something. I’m thinking the trouble you had pooping in your diaper earlier was because of the compression of your underwear.”
“Yeah. So maybe there won’t be any problems next time. But I didn’t remember you were wearing underwear earlier, when you called me from school. So, after we talked, the team and I got started brainstorming how to modify the diaper’s design to make pooping easier.”
My cheeks flushed. “Everyone at your work knows I pooped in the diaper?”
“Well, they don’t know you managed it. I haven’t talked to anyone from work since I left. But they do know you were having trouble, and that’s nothing to be embarrassed about. They’re not going to judge you. They’re like me. They see it through a scientific lens.”
I thought about it, then shook my head. “Right. I don’t know why I felt embarrassed just then.”
“That’s okay. How you feel is how you feel. And this is a new experience.”
I nodded slowly as I processed what he was saying. Then I got us back on topic. “So, did your team come up with anything?”
“Yeah, we had a pretty cool idea! We added an indentation in the back of the diaper’s padding that should be enough to sufficiently increase the ease with which you can poop in it.”
“Wow, that’s great!”
“Oh yeah. Don’t get too excited, though. It’ll probably be a while before we manufacture any with the indent. We want to wait until we add more modifications based on your experiences.”
“That makes sense.”
“Let’s not worry about it yet, but if you keep having trouble pooping in the diapers, we’ll have to figure out some kind of system for you.”
“Like, maybe you can loosen the diaper and let it sag down while you poop, then pull it up and make it tight again. I don’t know. Let’s both give it some thought. But not too much, since maybe the underwear was the only reason for the problem.”
“Alright. Well. I’ll let you get started on your homework now. I promise this won’t happen most days; we should be able to have our conversations in the car in the future.”
“It’s Friday,” I said with a smirk. “I don’t need to start my homework so soon.”
He closed his eyes. “Right. I knew that. Well . . . I’ll let your mom know the situation as soon as she gets home, and she can come and change you ASAP.”
“No rush. I still feel good.”
“Alright, kiddo. See ya.” He gave a little wave and left the room.
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