Public Urination

Public Urination

“Hmm… I don’t know,” Brook mused as she stared at herself in the mirror, experimentally lifting her sweater to see that, indeed, the top of her diaper was very visible. It wouldn’t take much dancing at all to expose that, and show everyone at the club her shameful secret.

It was like a cruel joke… She was finally off on her own, an adult, independent, but she was scared to celebrate it, at least in the way she wanted to. The few parties she’d been to at school, and drank at, had all ended the same way, with her in wet pants, humiliated, which, of course, nobody at school would let her forget about.

She didn’t know anybody here in this city, and, while there was no guarantee she’d see anybody at the club tonight ever again, since there were plenty of other places she could go to hang out if she wanted, she didn’t want her life here to start like that… She wanted things to be different from school. Part of her hoped that, magically, the issue had solved itself now that she was officially a grown-up, but the last time it had happened was at a graduation party, almost a year ago.

So, she’d come up with another solution… Or so she’d thought. She’d known that adult diapers existed, although not enough to have any idea which ones she ought to use. They were all pretty much the same, she’d assumed, so she’d just grabbed what looked good to her at the store, in the few seconds she gave herself to stare at the packages, since she didn’t want to be caught in that aisle.

They were thicker than she’d imagined, and bigger in general; she’d imagined something closer to a pair of underwear, only designed to hold in accidents… These were, unmistakably, diapers, more like what a baby would wear. They were so thick, bulging there, between her legs, and loud… But the club was going to be loud, too, she reasoned, so surely nobody would hear. It would probably also be dark, which made her feel a little better about how puffy her pants looked with them on underneath.

The waistband issue… That was another story. She was already dressing much more conservatively than she had imagined her first clubbing outfit would be, just to keep her diaper this well hidden. She couldn’t go any further than that, and yet, if she got too into dancing, there was a good chance her shirt might rise a little too much, and everyone would see anyway. Would it really be worse to be the girl who wet herself in the club, rather than the one wearing a diaper, so that everyone would assume she peed herself, probably on a regular basis?

Was it worth the risk? She definitely wanted to go out, to dance, to drink, to celebrate… She didn’t want to be trapped here, afraid of what might happen…

So what if somebody saw her diaper? This wasn’t school any more… Surely, people could be grown-up about it, and if they really thought she had a problem, they could come up and ask her about it, instead of calling her names and talking about her behind her back.

Besides, what was the worst that could happen?

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