Fiction: Alicia, Part 6

This is the sixth part of Alicia’s story. You can start at the beginning here.

After my dad left my room, I went over to my beanbag chair and started streaming a movie. I tried to watch it, but I couldn’t concentrate. My poop just felt soo good against my skin. I couldn’t resist; I kept wiggling my butt around on it. Eventually, I lay back and basked in the pleasure.

A few minutes later, I sat up and turned off the movie. Then I stood, pulled off my skirt, and threw it in the pile of dirty clothes by my closet. No sense in keeping that on. Everyone here knew I was wearing a diaper, and I would have my mom coming to change it soon.

I pulled my phone out of my backpack and jumped into bed. Then I started playing the game I’d been telling Sammy about earlier. After a bit, I moved on to checking my social media feeds.

Knock, knock, knock!

Was my mom home already? Had it already been an hour and a half? I looked at the clock at the top of my screen. Yep, it had been. I turned off the screen and put the phone aside as I beckoned, “Come in.”

As I sat up, the handle turned and in walked my mom. “Hi, hon. Your dad tells me you need me to change your diaper for you?”

“Yeah,” I said as my mom closed the door and walked toward me. “But only because I pooped when I was still wearing underwear under the diaper. He thinks it’s too much of a mess for me to handle on my first try.”

“I see. . . .” she said as she looked at my diaper. “Well, did your dad give you any changing supplies yet?”

“No, I don’t think so. He just gave me diapers.”

“Oh, of course he forgot. Let me go grab some wipes and maybe some other stuff.”

With that, she hurried out of the room. As I waited for her return, I bounced my butt up and down on my poop. It had gotten colder, so it didn’t feel quite as good anymore, but it still felt good.

Soon, my mom returned carrying a white plastic bottle and a big plastic package. She closed the door and held them up to me one at a time as she walked over. “This right here is a bag of wipes,” she said as she held up the blue plastic package, “and this is a bottle of cornstarch powder,” she said as she held up the white bottle. I appreciated that she didn’t call it “baby powder.”

She set the supplies down on the edge of my desk and motioned with her hand. “Okay, lay down,” she said. I swiveled my legs onto the bed and scooted my butt away from the edge, then lay my head on my pillow. She put her knee on the edge of the bed and reached over to me.

After nodding to herself for a few seconds, she untapped one side of the diaper. “Actually,” she said, looking over to my face, “how about you take off your shirt. That should make my job a little easier.”

I sat up a little and slid my polo and sweater combo off, then dropped it on the bed to my left side. Only a bra and diaper remained to cover me, and the diaper was soon to go.

“Okay, let’s see what we have,” my mom said as she untapped the other side of the diaper and flipped it open. Then she took a step back and put her hand over her nose and mouth. “That stinks.”

I smiled as I caught a whiff of it myself. That odor blockage tech was no joke, that’s for sure.

My mom went over to my desk and rummaged through a few drawers before coming back with a pair of scissors. I peered past my breasts at her as she used them to snip the sides of my bikini-style underwear. Fair enough. Then she set the scissors on my desk. There probably hadn’t been any poop where she’d snipped, so it was fine.

I turned my head to follow her as she went to the far side of my desk and came back carrying my mini trashcan. She set it next to my bed and adjusted the bag, then carefully grabbed my underwear. She grabbed the seat, where it was most poopy (I guess because that part was easier to hold onto, or maybe to help make sure no poop fell out). Once she had my undies up in the air, she took hold of the cut sides in addition to the bottom. My underwear looked like an upside-down parachute as she transported it to the trashcan and carefully lowered it in.

After it thudded on the bottom of the can, my mom opened the pack of wipes with her knuckles and pulled out a couple wipes, which she cleaned her hands with and threw away. “When you do this,” she said, “you probably won’t need to wipe your hands. I’m just wiping mine because your underwear was so dirty.”

I nodded as my cheeks transitioned from blushing to burning. Then I took the opportunity to ask something I’d been wondering since she started: “Do I have to lay down every time?”

“Oh, no, no,” she said. “Your dad usually stands up every time he changes himself. But it would be way too hard for me to do this if you were standing.”


Back in the zone, my mom brought the pack of wipes over to my bed and grabbed another wipe, then took it to my crotch. She lifted my legs and wiped in one fluid motion, starting at my privates and going all the way up my butt-crack. By the time she pulled the wipe away, it had almost completely changed from white to brown.

Trashing the first wipe, she grabbed another and wiped me in the same swift and thorough manner. She took the third wipe to my left butt cheek and the fourth to my right. Then she got another and wiped all over. She kept my legs in the air the whole time.

By the time she threw the final wipe away, there was barely any brown on it at all. I felt super clean and my skin felt refreshed.

Next, my mom grabbed the front side of my diaper, pulled it to the end of my bed, and swiveled it. Then she let my legs down and turned her attention to the diaper. She folded the sides in, then lifted the front of it and rolled it forward until the diaper was all wrapped up. Then she took the tapes one-by-one and secured it in that position.

She took the massive thing over to the trash and dropped it in, then wiped her hands with a wipe and threw the wipe in on top of it. She looked up at me with an accomplished smile for a moment.

“When was the last time you took a shower?” she soon asked as she grabbed the pack of wipes and closed it.

I thought for a second as she put the wipes on my desk. “The day before yesterday,” I answered.

“Okay, that’s what I thought,” she replied. “Go take one now. That way you don’t have to take one if your next diaper makes it all the way to tomorrow night.”

“Good idea. I’m gonna try to see if I can use it all the way up.”

“Okay,” she said absentmindedly. “Well, I’ll leave the wipes and powder here for you. Your dad has plenty more, so he won’t miss ’em. Just do as I did with the wipes when you change and try to put some powder on every time you put a new diaper on. Are you gonna need a demonstration on that?”

“Nah. I’m sure I can manage.”

“Okay, hon. Well, I’m gonna leave now, so go hop in that shower. We’ll be eating dinner pretty soon, so be quick.”

After she left the room, I went over to my closet and slid on the skirt I’d discarded earlier. Then I headed for the bathroom.

Did you enjoy this installment of Alicia’s story? Do you look forward to more Fiction posts? Please leave me a comment and/or a Like to let me know!

2 thoughts on “Fiction: Alicia, Part 6

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