Diaper Story: A Messy Accident

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Description

Short, ABDL, POV Story where you’re a girl living with your flatmate, who used to be your babysitter, and you’ve just messed your pants and now she wants you to wear training pants.

Short Story: A Messy Accident

Okay, so, I’m standing there, in front of my ex-babysitter now flatmate, and I can’t believe I’m actually contemplating this. I’m twenty-one, a grown woman, and she’s asking me to put on training pants! I glance down at the mess between my legs and the smell hits my nostrils, confirming the reality of the situation. There’s no point arguing. It’s obvious I can’t control my bowels right now.

“Just give me another try,” I beg, hoping she’ll relent. “One more chance?” She shakes her head, her expression a mixture of pity and disgust. “No, sweetie,” she says, “I don’t want to deal with you stinking up the place. And we don’t want to waste another pair of those good panties. Besides, you can wear your regular ones over the training pants. Just go get cleaned up and then put them on.”

The shame burns hot as I agree and retreat to the bathroom. I peel off the disgusting panties, trying to contain the stench as I hold them over the toilet, emptying their contents. My face is burning, I try to wipe away any remnants of the mess with the toilet paper before showering.

After the shower, I quickly towel off and enter my bedroom. In my room, I see the fresh pair of panties and the training pants, and I just want to scream. It’s like a bad dream. I pull the training pants on, the fabric feeling so foreign and humiliating. I can’t help but notice the little cartoon duck on the front. I feel a wave of nausea come over me. Then I quickly put on my regular panties over them and pull on a cute dress. I can’t bear the thought of anyone seeing me in these awful training pants at my age. Finally, I put some socks on and go downstairs, my steps slow and heavy.

Back downstairs, Sarah smiled at me, a knowing glint in her eyes. “Show me you’re wearing them,” she said, her voice laced with amusement. I felt my cheeks flush as I lifted my dress and pulled down my panties. The sight of the training pants peeking out from beneath my dress brought a new wave of humiliation. She just smiled and nodded, her eyes filled with amusement. “Good girl,” she said. My world felt smaller and smaller. My whole life had been reduced to a single, humiliating moment. It was just a small, temporary setback, but it felt like a giant, gaping hole in the fabric of my existence. I was sure this was going to be a story I told for years to come, the story of the day I wore training pants. The memory, the shame, it was going to stay with me forever.