The Girl On Campus (Short #4)

Mark stood with his back against a wall, knees bent slightly, focused on his diapers.

The freedom was intoxicating. Nobody in college cared about what anyone else was doing–he could walk right through campus wearing a diaper beneath his jeans, and nobody would even glance his direction. He could even use the diapers.

So, just off a walking path, leaning against the library wall, he pushed right into his diaper, filling them up in broad daylight.

It’d taken a while to build up to this level of confidence. He’d been terrified to go out in public the first time, and even wetting while out had taken a few diapered strolls. Now, though, he knew the truth–he could do anything he wanted, even filling up his diaper, and nobody would notice.

He straightened, feeling the mess sag in his padding, held against his body by his tight jeans, and–

“Hey,” a girl said, tucking her hair behind her ear.

Mark glanced around, but the girl was looking right at him. “Uh…hey?”

She looked him up and down. “Are you wearing a diaper?”

He turned bright pink. “No!”

She stepped up, stalking towards him. She wore an expression of amusement and disbelief, with a tinge of ‘I can tell you’re lying’. “You are!”

“N-no, I’m not!” Mark protested, pulling down on the hem of his T-shirt, hiding the waistband of his diaper.

As she got closer, the girl wrinkled her nose, sniffing the accident he’d pushed out just moments before. “Oh my gosh, you are, and you just used it!”

“I didn’t, I–”

“I can smell it,” she cut in. “You are so full of crap!”

She paused, catching her own pun, and giggled.

“Don’t tell anyone!” Mark said, flushing pink, glancing up and down the path. At least nobody else was watching.

The girl hesitated. “Wait, are you–no, you couldn’t be. I saw you going in it on purpose, if you were incontinent you wouldn’t have done that.”

Mark couldn’t think up a better excuse, so he just nodded meekly.

“So what, did you lose a bet?” she asked, pinching her nose and smirking. “Oh gosh, you really stink.”

He shook his head, avoiding eye contact with her. “I just…wanted to.”

Her smirk widened. “Can I see?”

Already pink, Mark’s face turned bright red. “What?”

“Come on, show me,” she said. “I want to see.”

Meekly, Mark checked the surrounding areas again, then lifted his shirt so she could see the waistband.

Without asking first, Cynthia reached forward, pulling out the waistband of his jeans. “Those are so cute! What, are those lions? Adorable.”

He pushed her hand away, tugging his shirt back down. “Don’t tell anyone, please.”

“Oh?” she asked, as though the idea hadn’t even occurred to her. “Why not, diaper boy?”

“It’s, um, Mark,” he said.

“I like ‘Diaper boy’,” she said. “And what, are you worried people will find out that you like wearing stinky diapers?”

He shuddered, chest fluttering. “I–um–”

“It’s okay,” she said, leaning back. “I’ll keep your secret.”

Mark let out a breath. “Thank–”

“If you tell me whenever you’re wearing a diaper,” she said.

Mark’s voice caught in his throat, and a little ‘squeak’ escaped him. Finding his words, he managed to ask, “H-huh?”

Reaching down, she took his wrist. “Well, I think it’s cute. Little blushy baby boys are fun, and next time you decide to make a stinky mess, I want to be there.” Pressing his wrist against the wall, she stepped closer, so her face was right up against his. “Would you like that? Letting a girl see what a baby you are?”

He shuddered, but couldn’t lie. He nodded.

Reaching into the clutch on her bag, the girl produced something he couldn’t see. “Don’t move.”

He didn’t, and she reached down, unzipping his jeans. He felt something press against his diaper, and blushed as he felt himself grow hard, something the girl certainly noticed.

A few moments passed, and she pulled away. She smirked, returning to her bouncy, amused state, inflicting terrible whiplash on Mark’s headspace. “Okay then, diaper boy. I’m Cynthia, by the way. Give me a call next time, and maybe I’ll help you put your diaper on.”

He looked down, seeing his diaper plainly visible, jeans unzipped and pulled a few inches down.

And right on the front, Cynthia had written her phone number.