Cassandra (Commission)

I don't know how this one didn't get posted sooner. It's one of my old stream commissions, from when they were 500 words instead of 700.  Not much kink content in this one, but it's still fun! 

Cassandra woke up, feeling dizzy. The hospital bed wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, but her mouth felt dry. How long was I out? 

She’d just come in to remove a kidney stone. She was supposed to be out for an hour, but she felt like she’d been asleep for at least a day. That was wrong. She was supposed to be getting photographed for a magazine the next day, or is that today? and she didn’t have time to be lying around in a hospital. Sitting up, she looked around for a nurse call button, her underwear crinkling. 

Huh? 

She raised the cover and lifted her robes, looking around her waist. She found, not panties, not even the cotton granny panties that the hospital used, but a diaper. A white, fluffy diaper, with purple indicator stripes down the center. 

She gave up looking for the button. “Nurse! Nurse! What’s going on?” 

A few seconds passed, and she almost shouted again, but a man in a white coat stepped through the door, clipboard in hand, looking completely professional. “Ms. Priam, I’m going to have to ask you to stay calm. There was a bit of an accident in your procedure.”

Cold fear spread over Cassandra as the implications of his statement washed over her. What does that mean? Am I dying? Am I- 

“You’re fine,” the doctor added, quickly. “It’s nothing life threatening, and we’re looking into how to reverse the effects. It’s simply that… well…” 

Relief was palpable for a moment. She was fine, except… 

Cassandra remembered the diaper around her waist. “What happened.” 

The doctor looked at his chart, frowning. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t supposed to tell you this without our lawyer here, but…” 

“Tell me!”

“I’m afraid we may have, eh, damaged your bladder…” he said, hiding behind his clipboard. “Permanently.” 

Wait, but… “What does that mean?” 

“I’m very sorry, Ms. Priam,” the doctor said. “But, until we find out how to reverse the procedure, you’re going to be incontinent.” 

Facing the doctor, Cassandra said, “Well… there’s something you can do, right? I’m a model. I can’t work if I’m going to piss myself during shoots!”

“We’ve already done it,” the doctor explained. “There’s a common way to mitigate the symptoms. It’s, eh, common amongst infants.”

Blinking, she said, “I don’t follow.” 

“Diapers, ma’am. I’m sorry to tell you, you’re going to need diapers.” 

She felt a cold feeling in her belly, and warmth around her legs. Raising the covers, she looked down, and was shocked to see a spreading wet stain around the crotch of the diaper. 

And she hadn’t felt it, even a little. 

…

Six months later. 

Cassandra put up with the procedure, as the doctor - a new one, with better bedside manner - ran his test. “I was sorry to hear what had happened to you,” he said, sitting up from the end of the bed. “How are you coping?” 

“Not bad, all things considered,” she admitted. “The settlement helped ease things over a bit, and I’ve found new work.” 

“Oh? How’s that?” he asked, putting on his reading glasses to look at a chart. 

“Not bad, but I’d rather not go into details.” She blushed, thinking about it. Really, it hadn’t been a career change at all, just a shift in focus. 

As it turned out, people were willing to pay a whole lot of money to see a model in diapers.