San Bambina Chapter Seven

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They worked on their crafts with glue, scissors, ribbon, bottle caps for eyes, and felt markers in a wide variety of colours. Staci worked on her project and made small interjections during the conversation, but for the most part, she was content to simply sit back and listen to her new friends chatter away, amazed by how much of their talk was virtually indistinguishable from that of any other group of American girls the same age... with a couple of major exceptions.

“Have you guys seen that new movie with Jason Momoa?” Julia asked, popping her thumb out of her mouth to speak.

“MMMmm... he’s so hot!” Hazel said with a giggle, taking time out from colouring her paper bag puppet to smile and squirm her bottom in her seat.

“I’d definitely let him change my diaper,” Sheri said, casually horny as she switched from crayon to colouring pencil, and the group agreed, giggling vigorously. Staci joined in as best she could, trying to contribute to the conversation... yet she was often shocked by what she was seeing and hearing.

They discussed their dates, and everything would be normal... until the moment Hazel casually mentioned having a massive bowel movement in her diaper during the movie, her boyfriend taking her to the bathroom to changing her diaper, then returning to the theatre for a steamy make out.

Julia said she could relate: An ill-advised trip to a Mexican restaurant led to a night of embarrassing gas in front of her boyfriend while they were trying to relax during a marathon of You Bet Your Butt. Staci listened intently, struggling not to stare with her mouth open as Julia detailed having her boyfriend pull down her diaper and administer an enema, then cuddling with him on the couch as she noisily filled her pampers.

They chatted about music and TV shows and cute guys from the neighbouring campus, where they studied ‘big boy’ subjects like math, science and business... while their girlfriends toiled away on their hand puppets! It made Staci fume.

But she had to admit... once she got into it, it was a lot of fun. Not just the simple, relaxing, creative process of making the puppet, but also just chatting with a group of other girls, who were surprisingly normal given their circumstances. Some simple probing from Staci revealed they had few complaints about their lots in life and seemed to express little envy for women on the outside world, and in many ways even seemed to pity them.

Most of them were looking forward to graduating and settling down with the right guy, though Hazel said she was thinking about maybe allowing herself to be adopted by an older, wealthy couple for a few years, a common practice that paid very well and allowed young women to build up a little nest egg before starting a family. Surprisingly, only Sheri was considering becoming potty trained after marriage-- in fact, Staci was shocked to discover that only Julia and Sheri’s mothers were potty trained (and in Sherri’s case, it was because her mother was a Matriarch, and had received training as a child.)

Soon the puppets were largely finished. The teacher, Ms. Packard, informed them that it was time for lunch-- Staci was surprised to find it was served in classroom, on carts that came door to door. Lunch was served on trays by cafeteria workers, and Staci surveyed the meal, impressed. It consisted of chicken (pre-cut into bite-sized pieces,) some carrots and celery, and a large portion of beans on the side. A simple spork was provided, and they girls eagerly tucked in, continuing their chat while they ate. The whole thing was beginning to feel normal, which had Staci feeling mildly worried.

The girls talked about their boyfriends, dating, what they wanted to do after graduation, their favourite music... just regular things. Their parents seemed to treat them well (beyond some corporal punishment, which most of them seemed oddly grateful for), and they didn’t seem in any way abused or traumatized by their upbringings-- Staci simply couldn’t get over how well-adjusted they all seemed to be.

After lunch, the smiling teacher handed out dessert. Staci groaned inwardly-- she recognized the Mud Pies through the plastic wrapping without even checking out the logo. She wracked her brain, trying to think of a way out... but as she watched the other girls eagerly tear open the packaging and begin wolfing down the cakes, her heart sank. There simply wasn’t time to come up with an excuse. And so, reluctantly, she began eating the cake.

The pastry was delicious, in that cheap, store-bought kind of way. But knowing the effect it was likely going to have on her and her new classmates dampened her spirits, and Staci chewed without enthusiasm. By now the beans were kicking in, and she discovered firsthand one difference between San Bambinian girls and American girls: they weren’t shy about passing gas in front of each other. Soon the beans were in full effect, and the Mud Pies were working their dark magic too. It wasn’t long before the farts were flying thick and fast, and as Staci glanced around at her classmates, their smiling faces covered in chocolate, she knew it was about to get very stinky in here

Suddenly, there was a nasty, gassy spattering sound from right next to her. Staci couldn’t stop herself from staring at Julia with an open mouth, stunned by the disgusting noises that were emerging from inside her diaper. Julia had a surprised expression as well... she’d just lost control, a major surge of gooey mess leaking out of her backside and filling the bottom of her pampers.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, planting her feet and lifting herself out of her seat, sticking her puffy, diapered bottom out behind her as she started to grunt.

“Uh! Ah! Ooo!” she moaned and panted as she pushed, her efforts rewarded with a series of flatulent squishes and squelches from her pampers, the seat noticeably expanding behind her, going all lumpy and brown. Staci crinkled her nose against the growing stink.

Julia wasn’t even finished before Staci heard another gross farting sound from across the table. She looked over just in time to see Sheri leaning to one side, unselfconsciously straining and grunting out a messy load into her pampers.

As if on cue, Hazel was next, lifting herself out of her seat to grunt and strain and fart out a pile of mushy brown poo-poo into the seat of her pants, then sitting with a satisfying squish.

Staci watched all this with wide eyes and made the decision that she wasn’t going to allow it to happen to her. She was an adult, damn it-- she had control over herself, and she could certainly control her bowels! She didn’t care if it blew her cover-- she wasn’t going to give in! No matter how bad it got, she vowed that she would hold it until she got back to the hotel!

All well and good-- but moments later, Staci felt the Mud Pie and beans kicking in with a vengeance. Her stomach was grumbling and gurgling, and sweat popped out on her forehead. Her gas was out of control, and Staci blushed as she ripped three or four really nasty farts in a row, and she was sure she felt something leak out. She crossed her ankles under the table and pressed herself down into her seat as hard as she could, hoping to block the explosion that was building in her guts.

But in the end, she merely prolonged her embarrassment. Her gas only got worse, each fart getting longer, louder and more disgusting than the one that preceded it, and her butt-crack was beginning to feel quite moist. She was roasting hot, sweating like a pig, her face red from both the warmth and from blushing. Wiping her brow, her bowels roaring and bubbling inside her, the stink of two dozen dirty diapers in her nostrils, Staci had no idea how much longer she could control herself.