PeculiarChangeling
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The Date (Commission)
🕑 Added 2020-06-23 18:00:04 +0000 UTCAnother commission. This should generally stand alone without needing context - the kinky content is fairly light, it's more of a romance with a slightly smutty skew.
Tiffany shifted her weight from foot to foot, watching for her uber.
It’s just a little problem. You might even get better… eventually. It’s possible. A .01% chance is still a chance.
She still couldn’t put the doctor’s words out of her head. The exact order of what he’d said was a jumble in her memory, but things like, “Likely permanent,” and “Incontinence” and “Diapers” were still rattling around in her brain.
Adult diapers were supposed to be for grannies in nursing homes, not for her, but that reality didn’t seem to matter. She was wearing one anyways. Chances were good she’d be wearing them for the rest of her life.
A car pulled up to the front of the hospital, and her phone beeped. She checked the Uber notification, confirmed who it was, and got into the vehicle.
“Can we make a stop on the way?” she asked, leaning forward towards the driver.
“Yeah, sure. Where to?”
“There’s a pharmacy on the way,” she explained. “I need to…”
“Fill a prescription?” the driver suggested.
Tiffany had been trying to come up with a tactful way to say she needed to buy some diapers, but that was better. “Yeah.”
She didn’t really want to think about what she was wearing, what she was going to buy. If she put it out of her mind, it was like it didn’t really exist. Reaching for her phone, she scrolled through her messages. Her parents, checking in, a few random social media messages, an alert on Tinder-
Crap. I totally forgot.
She checked the time, and the day. Friday, 2 PM. She had a date in four hours.
There wasn’t much choice but to cancel, not after the prognosis she’d received. Showing up to a first date and having to explain what she was wearing…
Opening up the messages, she typed out, ‘Hey, sorry, something came up. I’m going to have to bail.’
Staring at the message, her finger hovered over the ‘send’ button.
Hesitating, she scrolled back up through the messages. The guy, Anthony, was nice, he was funny, and if the pictures on his profile were real, she wanted to drag him violently to bed and do terrible things to his body.
Scrolling back down, she deleted her words and typed out a new message. ‘Hey, sorry I didn’t respond sooner. Had some heavy stuff going on, I’ll tell you later. :) See you at dinner!’
Tiffany wasn’t about to let a little problem ruin her life. She wasn’t about to stop dating, going out with friends, or anything else that she enjoyed. She was stronger than that.
Now, she just had to figure out how she was going to do all those things.
…
Staring at herself in the mirror, Tiffany considered her outfit. It was her go-to for first dates. Skinny jeans, a high-cut top, her hair let loose.
It just wouldn’t do. The jeans, which she loved for how they hugged to her curves, instead were hugging to the contours of her diaper, as though they were advertising what she was wearing. If that wasn’t enough, the waistband was visible around her hips, and the top did nothing to hide it.
She tried tucking it down, but that did little good. As soon as she started moving around, the plasticy material would wiggle loose and become visible again. There was just nothing she could do.
Sighing, Tiffany sat down on her bed. “Ugh. Okay, new plan.”
Since she left the hospital an hour before, Tiffany hadn’t had anything to drink. If she kept that up, it stood to reason that she wouldn’t need to pee, and if she didn’t need to pee, she wouldn’t have any more accidents. Right?
It wasn’t a perfect solution. She couldn’t dehydrate herself forever. Realistically, she shouldn’t even do that at all - her doctor would certainly frown at her for taking such measures. For a few hours on a date, though, Tiffany thought she could get away with it. Her doctor wouldn’t have to know.
Tugging down her jeans, Tiffany kicked them onto the ground and then ripped off the diaper, wadding it up to put in the trash. Retrieving a pair of silk panties from the dresser, she tugged them on, admiring her body in the mirror.
“Yeah, that’s much better.” Walking to the bathroom, she began the process of applying makeup and getting her hair in order.
She was starting to feel better about her circumstances. She didn’t have to wear diapers all the time. That was good. She could still have a social life, still go on dates - everything she wanted to, as long as it was in short bursts.
Shifting her weight, Tiffany felt the bath mat squelch under her feet.
“Huh?”
Looking down, she saw a little wet stain on the ground. It wasn’t a lot, just a tiny little puddle that had soaked in, but she felt afraid just looking at it.
Reaching down, she touched her panties, and her fingers came away damp. They weren’t soaked, but they were clearly damp, and only a few minutes after putting them on.
If she couldn’t make it five minutes, then she certainly couldn’t make it through an entire evening.
Grumbling, she stripped out of the wet panties and sat down on the toilet seat, thinking about what else she could do. She could find some looser clothes, but there’d still be the issue of waistbands.
Sighing, used a hand towel to prevent any more drips and walked back to the bedroom to put on another diaper. She had to fiddle with the tapes and re-stick them a couple times to get it right, but she eventually got it down.
Once she was protected against leaks once more, she went to her closet to reexamine her options.
Maybe I’ll go with a dress…
…
The restaurant wasn’t far from her home, and it was still daylight out, so Tiffany decided to walk. She’d gone with a knee-length sundress decorated with springtime flowers, choosing to go more ‘cute’ than ‘sexy’ since her usual ensemble was out.
The walk ended up being valuable practice. She still wasn’t totally used to walking with a diaper between her legs, and while it wasn’t going to make her lose her balance or anything, it still added a bit of a waddle to her gait.
That just wouldn’t do.
Strolling down the sidewalk, she focused on making her walk appear normal. It took some concentration at first, but she managed to make it so that passers by wouldn’t notice anything strange, and the effort quickly turned from conscious action to unconscious habit.
She was feeling better about things. The sundress she’d gone with was pretty, it was a nice day out, she was going on a date. Life was still going on, nothing was going to get in her way.
Checking her phone, she decided to send a text to a friend. ‘Hey, Becky. I’m about to go on a date. Can you call me in twenty minutes in case things are super awkward and I need an excuse to bail?’
Her phone buzzed a minute later. ‘Of course, Tiff. Hope it goes well!’
Her backup plan established, Tiffany stepped into the bistro, making the bell above the door jingle. Once inside, she glanced around as though she was worried about what she might see. It was still the same local restaurant she’d been to a hundred times. Nothing had changed.
“Tiff!” the hostess said, smiling. “It’s been a couple weeks. Table for one?”
She smiled at the corners of her mouth. “Yeah, I’ve been… busy. Table for two.”
The hostess’s smile broadened. “Ooh, girl. Is he cute?”
Shuffling her feet a little, Tiffany avoided answering the question, feeling herself blush just slightly. “He’s… nice.”
“Yeah? What’s he look like?” she had her elbows on the hostess stand, listening eagerly.
The bell rang and Tiffany unconsciously stepped to the side to let the other patrons in. “Oh… brown hair, kinda athletic, he’s got that sort of scruffy look where you’d think it would look unkempt but… he kind of makes it sexy, you know?” She blinked as the hostess suddenly stood straighter, her expression going mute. “What? What’s-”
“So you think the look is sexy?”
Tiffany looked over at the speaker, who’d just walked in. It was Anthony. Her date.
Cheeks turning bright pink, she put her hands to her mouth. “I-”
“I guess I showed up at the right time,” Anthony said, flashing a grin. “It’s nice to meet you, Tiffany.”
“Oh god,” Tiffany stammered. “I- I mean, I wasn’t- We were just talking-”
Anthony glanced at the hostess. “Table for two?”
Playing down her own participation in the gossip, the hostess produced a couple menus and waved them towards the back of the bistro. The walk to their booth gave Tiffany a chance to collect herself, though even as they got seated and situated, she still felt mortified.
“I’m sorry,” she said, leaning her head into her hand. “This has got to be the most awkward start to a first date in history.”
“Hey, we’re both who we said we were online, and my hair isn’t on fire,” Anthony chuckled. “And I’m not really going to complain about candid compliments.” He scratched his chin, pondering. “I think that’s the fastest that anyone’s called me sexy after meeting…”
Their waiter stopped by and Tiffany took it as a lifeline, giving her an excuse not to respond for a minute while she ordered water and a coffee.
“I’m not gonna lie,” Anthony admitted, once they were on their own again. “I kind of thought you were going to bail when I didn’t hear from you.”
“Yeah…” Tiffany said, looking around. “I… fuck. Okay, I have to tell you something.”
Thankfully, he didn’t laugh the comment off with another quip. Expression turning supportive, he asked, “What is it?”
“I just got out of the hospital today,” Tiffany said, her blush returning. “I… maybe I should just leave. This is stupid.”
He reached across the table, taking her hand gently. She could have pulled away without resistance, but she didn’t. “Tell me. It’s fine, I promise.”
“I…” Tiffany looking around again, feeling like she might spontaneously combust from embarrassment. “There was… I don’t want to go into details. A thing happened. I’m fine, but…” She just had to rip the band-aid off. There wasn’t any other choice. “I’m incontinent.”
He frowned, and Tiffany expected disgust, or condescension. Instead, he just seemed a little puzzled. “You’re… uh, is that visiting from another country?”
Tiffany frowned. “No, it’s… You know. Urinary incontinence?”
That still didn’t seem to get through to him. Anthony tilted his head, uncertainty in his expression. “Look, don’t think I’m stupid or anything, but I slept through most of highschool biology. I might need you to explain it to me like I’m twelve.”
Face flushing, Tiffany tried to think of another innuendo she could use that would be a little more clear. “I have… accidents now. That I can’t control.”
“Oh!” he blinked in realization, nodding. “Like, hand tremors, where you knock stuff over? Or do you just blank out and break things without remembering? That’s fine, I’m sure-”
“I pee my pants!” Tiffany said, maybe a little louder than she meant to. Flushing, she looked around the room, but nobody seemed to have heard. “I… my bladder doesn’t hold things properly. I have to wear diapers.”
That, finally, got through to him. He seemed to take a moment to consider, running through the implications in his head, and visibly came to a conclusion after a few seconds of thought.
He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, and his soft smile returned, as strong as ever. “Hey, that’s okay. A lot of people have problems like that. You’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about.”
She let out a relieved sigh. “I… thanks. I needed to hear that.”
“Of course. What, do you think I’d walk out on a date with a girl who finds my stubble sexy, just because of a little thing like that?” HIs cheesy grin returned in fill force, and Tiffany found herself blushing again.
“Shut up! I take back what I said before.” She didn’t mean it, and her smile made that clear.
They were interrupted again with drinks, and made a couple hasty orders. As the waiter was walking away, Tiffany’s phone started to ring. She pulled it out, checking the caller ID.
It was Becky.
“Do you need to take that?” Anthony asked, as she looked at the display.
This was Tiffany’s way out, if she wanted it. She could answer the phone, make up an excuse, and bail on the whole thing. Certainly, nobody would blame her for deciding to maybe put dating on hold for a while.
She muted the ringer, turned off her phone, and set it aside. “It’s nothing urgent.”
Anthony seemed to get what had just gone down, and he smiled. “So I guess I’m not too scary?”
Tiffany blushed, looking down. “It wasn’t you, just… I don’t know how I feel about… my new problem. I still feel like I shouldn’t be here. I don’t-”
Reaching across, Anthony took her hand in his, squeezing it gently. “You’re fine. You belong here just as much as anyone else, no matter what problems you’re dealing with. You’re still allowed to go on dates with sexy, athletic men.”
“Shut up!” Tiffany blushed, but she laughed at the same time, pushing his hands away. “You were not supposed to hear that!”
She was embarrassed, but it was a good kind of embarrassed. The concern about her diapers was gone, and now she just wished she could keep her big mouth in check when she was gossiping about her date.
Their appetizers came, and they both ate slowly, talking the whole time. They talked about their jobs, about the movies they liked, about their relationship experience. When their meals came out, Anthony asked for a bottle of wine, and they shared it, taking their time, just enjoying their company.
When the check finally came, Anthony picked it up, glancing at his watch. “I’m a little too tipsy to drive. Would you like to share a cab?”
It was an ambiguous question. Whether he meant to just give her a ride home, or to go back to his place, was up to interpretation.
Tiffany decided to interpret it the way she wanted. “Do you have coffee back at your place?”
He grinned. “I’ve got an espresso machine.”
“Then let’s call the cab.”
They walked out to the curb arm in arm, using each other for balance.
Tiffany didn’t feel totally drunk, but there was a pleasant light-headed buzz from the wine, and it had her feeling giggly. Waiting by the side of the road for the cab, she reached around, giving Anthony’s butt a squeeze through his jeans.
He jumped a little in surprise. “H-hey! Hands!”
“What’s wrong?” she asked, giggling up at him.
In response, he reached over and gave her butt a squeeze, producing a little squelch of damp padding.
Tiffany’s blush suddenly burned hot and she pulled away, mortified at the reminder. “I- I’m sorry.”
Anthony leaned in, moving his hand so that it was closer to the small of her back. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. Can I kiss you?”
She didn’t respond to his question directly. Instead, she stood up on tip toe so her lips could reach his and give him an answer with her actions.
They held the kiss for a long beat, Anthony sinking into it, pulling her closer and deepening the embrace. It might have kept going on that way, if the taxi hadn’t honked at them.
Rolling down the window, an older woman with deep wrinkles in her forehead shouted, “You called a cab? I’m not getting paid to watch you stick your tongue down her throat!”
“Y-yeah!” he called back. “Sorry, we’ll get in!”
They got in, and Anthony gave the cabbie an address before returning his attention to Tiffany. “So, where were we?”
She bit her lip, glancing at the cabbie for a moment. She seemed to be focused on driving, and if she did care about what happened in her back seat, she didn’t show any sign.
Scooting over so she was right next to him, Tiffany leaned in for another kiss, her foot intertwining around his. She kissed him on the cheek, then again on the lips, escalating quickly.
Anthony leaned in, taking shallow breaths in between kisses. “Are you sure-”
“Absolutely,” Tiffany whispered back, fingers finding their way to the button of his jeans, fumbling for a moment before she unzipped his jeans, fingers searching. He was hard, and she took advantage of that, teasing a little over her boxers.
In response, he pulled her closer with his arm, flipping up her dress with his hand. It exposed her diaper, but she didn’t care, too focused on the taste of his lips, the sound of their shallow breathing starting to mingle.
His hand pressed against her diaper, rubbing slightly. She could feel the hesitation as he explored, seeking out what her response would be.
And, for her part, Tiffany was fine with it. She was dripping wet, and it had nothing to do with her newfound incontinence. She moaned quietly, the sound muffled by Anthony’s mouth, and he squeezed harder, making her tremble with pleasure, rocking into his hand.
“How far is your place?” she whispered, breathing heavily.
“Only another mile or so,” he whispered back.
“Do you have prot-”
“Yes,” he confirmed, without needing her to finish the question.
He started to take his hand away, and Tiffany grabbed his wrist, moving it back into place. Kissing him deeply, she whispered, “When we get back, I want you to fuck me.”
He nodded enthusiastically, putting his other hand on her head and pulling Tiffany closer into the kiss. “Absolutely.”
It was going to be a very good night.
