PeculiarChangeling
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Diaper Heist - Part 2
🕑 Added 2021-02-20 15:30:10 +0000 UTCIllustration by Rinonno.
Part 3, the finale, will be out on February 6th!
Irene sat behind the wheel of her car, parked in her garage, waiting for her phone to buzz.
‘Am I really doing this?’
She looked down at her skirt, trying to gauge if the bulge of her swollen diaper was visible. The car windows were rolled down and the fan was on so she wouldn’t be stewing in the smell, but even so, it wasn’t all daisies and chocolate in the air. Almost twenty four hours was longer than she’d been able to hold it.
‘I already did the worst part,’ she thought, trying not to focus too much on the memory of losing control and filling her diaper with an outpouring of mush. ‘Just stick with it. You’ve got to.’
Even so, she wanted to back out, take a shower, and find another way. It was too much of a risk.
Her phone buzzed. She checked it, and saw a message from the unlisted number. ‘We’re in your kitchen.’
Irene blinked, took the keys out of the ignition, and got out of her car. Walking as fast as she could without squelching the contents of her diaper around, she waddled through the garage door, took a few steps down the hall, and found the Ghost sitting at her kitchen table, typing at a solid, heavy-duty laptop, sitting with another guest.
“So kind of you to join us,” the woman, who had nut-brown skin and a Spanish accent, said. Gesturing to Irene’s own coffee maker, which was actively percolating. “Coffee?”
“I- Who are you?”
“You can call me Bell.” The woman smiled, but she didn’t get up.
The Ghost cleared her throat, then deliberately sniffed and quirked up her lips in a smile. “Good to see - or, rather, smell - that you didn’t ignore my instructions. Are you developing a rash?”
“I- No, not really,” Irene said.
“Good. Then you can change in… we’ll say, an hour. I’ll enjoy having you squirm through the planning discussion.”
Cheeks turning pink, Irene had to concede that the Ghost’s descriptor would be accurate - she couldn’t get comfortable in her full diaper, no matter how much she tried to ignore it. Changing subjects, she asked, “Bell is our second person, I take it?”
The Ghost nodded. “I’ve worked with her on more than my share of jobs. She’s solid. Sit down, Irene, and we can go over the plan to get your documents back.”
Irene blushed and sat down with a squelch, looking between the two women. “So you can get them?”
“I can,” the Ghost said. “I’ll need the safety deposit box number, so that Bell can go get into position tonight. We’ll extract the documents tomorrow afternoon.”
“It’s box number four hundred and sixty,” Irene said. “But the bank is open tomorrow afternoon.”
“I’m aware,” the Ghost nodded. “And that’s where you come in.”
…
11:30 PM
Bell checked her earpiece. “Testing, testing. Can you hear me?”
“Coming loud and through, Stinkerbell,” the Ghost replied in her ear. “I’ve got the feed on my end.”
There was nobody around to see it, but Bell’s cheeks turned pink anyways. “I told you not to use that nickname.”
“After Bali, I think you proved that the name suits you plenty,” the Ghost replied. “Now, cut the chatter and get into place. I’ve got eyes on the night guard, he won’t be around to your position for another six minutes.”
“On it.” Bell went over the status of her equipment one last time. Her earpiece was working and fully charged. Her decryption probe was tucked away and ready to use. Her diaper was dry.
It was time to move.
Crouching by the external duct exhaust, she started removing vent screws, one at a time, with a ratchet screwdriver. It took only a couple seconds for each screw, but there were a dozen to remove, and it took her most of a minute to get them all.
Now, the tricky part. Pulling adhesive strips from a belt pouch, she held them in one hand and popped the vent free. Peeling the silicon release film from the strips, she stuck them on the inside of the vent, clambered into the duct, and stuck the vent back in place.
A keen observer would notice the missing screws, but unless someone inspected it up close, that would likely be overlooked. The vent was where it belonged, and she was in.
Now, it was a matter of being silent. The ducts would rattle and shake at the slightest motion, and though she wasn’t at risk of being seen, there were four guards on a rotating patrol that could still hear her. Slipping deeper into the ductwork, she started shimmying forward on her elbows and knees, a centimeter at a time.
It was slow, painstaking work, but she had all night to get into place. Safety mattered more than speed. As long as she arrived in place with enough time to use a magnet and unscrew the grate on the other end, she’d be fine.
…
8:00 AM; THE NEXT DAY
Cassandra, Irene, and the Ghost all arrived at the bank at separate times. They knew the plan. It had been discussed, fussed over, and generally worked to a fine point, and then repeated until they had it memorized. Nothing could go wrong, so long as they all did their part.
And when it was over, Cassandra would finally get the Ghost once and for all.
She reminded herself that as she arrived, promptly upon the bank’s opening. It was important that she didn’t dilly dally, so she walked right up to the teller desk, smiling, and said, “I’m considering getting a safe deposit box here. Is there someone I could talk to about that?”
…
8:01 AM
Bell watched as the security guard took one last look at the cameras, pursed his lips, and shrugged. All was, to him at least, as it should be.
Getting up to his feet, he stretched, yawned, and left, going to take a coffee break.
It was go time. Bell pushed open the metal vent, wincing as the four screws that had held it in place all tinkled to the ground.
She hesitated, holding her breath. Seconds passed. Nobody came.
Letting out a sigh of relief, Bell crawled out of the vent, dropped silently to the floor, and let out her own sigh of relief. It felt good not to be crammed into a tiny duct. She could finally stretch, a bit.
Sitting down in the guard’s seat, she felt her diaper squelch and ignored it as she got to work, taking out her decryption tool and plugging it into the security computer. She had two jobs, and they would both be done before anyone came back around.
“Ghost, can you hear me?”
…
8:04 AM
Ghost didn’t visibly react, but she responded. “How are you?”
Bell’s voice came through loud and clear. “I just wiped their recording software. It’ll look like there was corruption on the hard drive, everything from this morning will be nothing but static.”
You don’t have to explain it, Ghost thought. “How soon will I have video?”
“Sending that… now.”
As she said it, Ghost’s smartphone buzzed in her pocket, and she took it out to see a ‘Signal found’ notification. Opening the app, she saw a half dozen camera feed thumbnails, showing her everything that the bank could see.
“I’ve got eyes,” she said. “Good work, Stinkerbell. Now get out of sight.”
“Already moving.”
…
Cassandra nodded through her conversation with the bank man as he explained their various options and rates for a safe deposit box. This was largely immaterial, and she ultimately cut it short. “What I’d really like is to just see the boxes. I’m bad at picturing size in my head, so telling me it’s ‘fourteen centimeters wide and twenty five long’ doesn’t really mean anything to me.”
“Of course, that can be arranged. Come with me?”
Getting to his feet, he waited for Cassandra. She shouldered her purse and got up, leaving his office and walking straight to the main vault. It consisted of two main layers of security, first there was an exterior room that served both as the manager’s office and as a first line of defense against anyone seeking to intrude, and then a heavy steel vault door.
“Top of the line, of course,” he said, rapping a hand on the vault door. Turning so that his body shielded the combination, he entered the five digits and then turned the heavy duty handle, swinging the whole vault door open.
They went inside, together. To the left was a barred steel door, with stacks of cash and gold visible beyond. To the right, another identical door, with walls of safe deposit boxes tucked away.
Eyes widening, Cassandra stepped up to the door hiding the cash. “That’s… I don’t know if I’ve ever seen that much money in one place in my life.”
“We’re the largest bank in Ruthlos,” the man nodded. “And the safest.”
She lingered for a moment, putting a hand on the door and taking a breath. “I suppose if you can keep this secure, then I shouldn’t have anything to worry about.”
“Absolutely.” He smiled and then turned, putting his body between her and a pin pad as he entered a code by the other door. “There are two layers of security before you even need your own key.”
It didn’t matter if she couldn’t see the code now. The micro camera she’d just planted inside the door would pick it up just fine next time he entered it.
…
Irene tried not to look distressed as she walked into the bank, but it was proving difficult to keep a straight face. She really had to pee. Desperate, mortifying, hard-to-walk-straight had to pee.
A few people looked at her as she walked in, which probably - probably - had more to do with her appearance than her walk. She’d dressed as fashionably as she could, with white pants and an expensive, chic leather jacket. She wanted people to know that she was a wealthy customer.
A wealthy customer who really has to pee.
It was according to the plan. Ghost had been insistent.
Keeping her legs straight and everything clenched up, she looked around the bank, spotting Ghost interacting with an ATM. She didn’t say anything - Ghost had promised that she wouldn’t need a cue or any indicator, and if she said so, then Irene trusted it.
Instead, she walked right up to the manager’s office and walked inside. “William, are you busy?”
She knew him on a first name basis. This was her bank, after all, and she was an important enough member to deserve special consideration. He glanced up from his computer, and then over at the sealed bank vault. “I can make time for one of our best patrons. How are you, Irene?”
“Alright,” Irene said, still standing in the doorway. She was worried that if she sat down, she wouldn’t be able to stand up without losing control, and having an accident in the bank manager’s office would undermine the whole operation.
William hesitated. “Well, how can I help you?”
“I’m thinking about shifting some of my… er,” she paused, blushing, then shook her head.
“Is something wrong?”
“No, I’m... Never mind, I’ll take care of it after we’ve spoken,” she said. “Like I was saying, shifting some of my investments around, possibly liquidating some things to cash. The market’s been unstable lately, as I’m sure you know, and I’d rather play it safe in turbulent times.”
“Unstable? But we’re in a major upswing,” William frowned. “Where did you hear that it was unstable?”
“Well I don’t mean unstable,” Irene paused. “I just… Maybe I should start over, and- Okay, I’m sorry. I really need the washroom, do you mind excusing me for a moment?”
“Oh, of course. You know where it is?”
“I do,” Irene said.
Ugh. I can’t believe I agreed to this.
Opening the office door behind her, she took three steps, put her foot down wrong, slipped, and pinwheeled her arms. Flailing for balance, she all but screamed in alarm before falling to the ground, landing on her butt with a noisy ‘Thud’. Half the eyes in the bank fell on her.
She was supposed to pee, then. That wasn’t a problem, because her body decided to go before her conscious brain could even weigh in on the subject. The flood gates burst, and she wet her crisp white pants right there in the middle of the bank, a huge, yellow stain forming at the crotch and quickly spreading out into a puddle.
Irene blushed, red creeping up her face and burning hot. She knew it would be humiliating, but it felt like everyone was staring at her, at the rich, fashionable women who’d just thoroughly wet her pants.
As much as she’d needed to go, the puddle was enormous, and it kept dribbling out for most of a minute. By the time she could cut it off, William had hurried over, tentatively reached out to help her up, noticed the growing splash zone, and hesitantly stepped back.
“Are you alright?” he asked.
It was a stupid question.
Facing him, Irene didn’t have to fake a pleading tone. “I- Please, is there somewhere I can get cleaned up?”
“The employee bathrooms have a shower,” he said, finally offering that hand and gingerly stepping over the large yellow puddle. “Someone on the staff will get this coned off in a moment.”
He helped her up, and she loudly said, “Nobody look at me!” as they walked away, trying in vain to cover her face with one hand and her badly yellowed pants with the other.
That was the worst thing to say for privacy, as it ensured that anyone not already staring at Irene turned to look at her, watching the display as she waddled towards the back of the bank, leaving a dribbling yellow trail in her wake.
Nobody even noticed the two women who slipped into William’s office during the commotion.
The Ghost and Cassandra were inside.
Comments
Wonderfull!
