Security Leak - Patron Exclusive!

I'm trying a few new ideas here. It's written as with room for a follow-up, so let me know in the comments if you're interested in more stories featuring Karen! 

This story is Patron Exclusive. Enjoy!

“Come on, come on, aaany minute now,” Karen muttered in a light singsong, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel and staring out the window, watching for any sign of motion. “You were supposed to be here an hooour ago, you worthless criminaaal…” 

A headlight flashed well down the road and she perked up, grabbing her camera from where she’d hung it on the rear-view mirror. It took a second of fiddling to get the strap free and turn it on. By the time she held it up for a photo, the car was already past her and past the warehouse she’d been staking out for the past three hours. 

Looking closer, Karen saw that the occupants of the car were a couple of kids barely old enough to vote. Definitely not the people she was waiting for.

“Fuuuuck,” she muttered, rolling her eyes and sitting back in her bucket seat, banging her head against the ratty cushion. The padding of the headrest was held together with duct tape and… Well, just duct tape. The original cover was almost completely gone. In fact, most of her car was held together with tape, twine, and prayer. Her cell service was at risk of getting shut off, she was subsisting on ramen and cheap coffee, and her rent was a month past due. 

And, on top of all that, she had to pee. 

The PI life was not at all what she had hoped it to be. She got to drink whiskey and wear a trenchcoat, sure, but all the dashing investigation had been greatly exaggerated by the books and movies she’d read as a kid. Ninety percent of the time, she was tracking down cheating spouses or getting paid by companies to track their employees during an audit. She was barely keeping up with the bills, and she was regularly getting mocked behind her back by the real cops. 

All that was going to change, though, if this tip was good. The police were offering a massive reward for any information that led to the arrest of one Simon Melbourne. After two days of meticulous gumshoeing, she had learned that Simon was going to be at a certain abandoned warehouse to make a deal with a man known only as Manny. Karen didn’t know what Simon had done to accrue such a large reward, nor exactly why he was meeting with this ‘Manny’, but that didn’t matter. The only thing she needed for the reward was to take a few photos, and she could take a few photos without even getting out of her car.

So, Karen was sitting in her black sedan, tinted windows rolled up, waiting by the warehouse to get the break she needed to make her career viable for another year or so.  

“If he’d ever freakin’ show up!” Karen declared, resisting the urge to slam her fist into the steering wheel, since that would set off her horn - Not the best thing to do when trying to maintain a low profile. Hanging her camera back onto the mirror, she checked her appearance, trying to see how deep the circles under her eyes were. 

Then there was the other reason for her annoyance that she didn’t want to think about. Squirming in her seat, her eyes drifted to the trunk of her car, then drifted away as she pretended that her bladder wasn’t becoming a pressing issue. 

Reaching for her coffee, she downed the last of the cup, swallowing dregs of cold, bitter sludge. She checked her two-liter thermos, but it was completely empty. Growling and tossing the cup down on the floor beneath the passenger seat, Karen instead reached for a slice of pizza from the box on her dash and found it to be empty as well.

“Dammit,” she mumbled. There were still a couple stale donuts and she had a water bottle, but neither of those sounded nearly as appetizing as pizza or coffee, even if both the snack and the drink had come from a hole-in-the-wall gas station. Peering out the window again, she asked, “Simon, where the fuck are you?” 

She was out of distractions, and the pressure on her bladder was getting too strong to ignore. 

When Karen had decided she wanted to be a PI, one of the biggest problems she had faced was the out-and-out misogyny of much of the community. Male PIs sneered, and a lot of clients would come up with an excuse not to hire her once they found out she was a woman. 

The majority of the criticisms were complete bullshit. Karen could hold her own in a tussle, and even if she couldn’t, her job was to observe and record. If she got in a fight, it was because something had seriously gone wrong. Her emotions didn’t cause trouble for the job, and she didn’t have trouble “making criminals take her seriously”. The only real problem she faced was one that nobody ever mentioned: She couldn’t pee in a bottle. 

On Karen’s second ever stakeout, she’d almost blown the case when she stepped out of her car to find a restroom and walked straight into the man she was supposed to be tracking. She’d been hired to catch him cheating on his wife. The case would have been blown, if he hadn’t immediately started hitting on her right then and there. 

Her fifth stakeout had been completely ruined when she missed her target while finding a bathroom. 

The tenth stakeout of her career, it was the seat of her car that got ruined, along with a perfectly good pair of jeans. That was when she’d decided enough was enough. 

After that multitude of problems, Karen had invented a solution, but it wasn’t one that she liked. It was inconvenient, it was annoying, it was less than free, and - most of all - if anyone ever caught her in the act she’d be laughed out of town.

Still, as Karen waited and waited for Simon to show up, the pressure on her bladder continued to grow and there was no potty break in sight. If she wanted to avoid ruining her pants and putting another stain on the seat of her car, she was going to have to put on a diaper. 

Once she’d realized what she had to do, she’d headed to a pharmacy on the far side of town from where she lived and bought a pack of adult diapers. She didn’t know what brand to get, so she swallowed her embarrassment and asked for a pack at the pharmacy counter - They’d pulled something from the back, she’d gotten a receipt to write it off on her taxes, and then she stuck the package in her trunk for future emergencies. 

Unless Simon showed up in the next few minutes, it was going to be one of those emergencies. 

Turning in her seat, she considered it. She could maybe make it another… Twenty minutes? Thirty? Not a long time.

A minute went by and she debated with herself, but the pressure in her bladder refused to abate, and she finally decided that it was the only reasonable choice. Nobody would know, so she didn’t have to be embarrassed. 

“Yeah, I believe that,” she told herself, blushing as she crawled over her seat to get to the back so she could access the trunk. 

Even as she did so, she wondered if she’d waited too long. The simple agitation of trying to get to the backseat from the front put more pressure on her, making the need to pee more acute. Shifting her weight, she tumbled into the back, feeling a tiny bit of urine spurt into her panties as she landed on the small floor between the seats. 

Groaning, she lifted herself up, sliding into the rear driver’s chair and lowering the middle seat cushion so she could get to the trunk. Twisting to reach the back, she felt around for a moment before her hand touched the plastic material that the diapers came packaged in. 

The package proved to be just barely small enough to fit through the gap leading into her trunk, and so it took quite a bit of struggling and annoyance to pull it through, with much swearing and annoyance for Karen. Once she had the package in her lap, though, she was able to sit back, putting a hand to her crotch and squirming as she struggled to hold back the pressure. 

Checking the label, she looked for instructions on how to put on one of the diapers, skimming through the writing on the back.

“Medico-AB24/7… Okay… Ultra-maximum protection… Ten thousand milliliters… I’m not sure how much that is, but okay.” Skimming down, she found it. “Okay, let’s see… Easy enough. Four tapes. Stick them in place. Easy peasy.” 

Ripping the packaging, she pulled out one of the diapers, examining it for a moment. There was a pair of colored wetness indicators running down the center. It seemed awfully thick, but she didn’t have a frame of reference for what an adult diaper was supposed to look like, so shrugged it off and unfolded the diaper, assuming it would look less comical once it was spread out.

It didn’t. Once it was unfolded, it just looked really thick and wider. She didn’t have a measuring stick with her, but the absorbent padding around the crotch looked to be almost three inches deep. Frowning, she held it up, turned it upside down, then shrugged. She would only be wearing it for a minute, tops, so any bulk didn’t matter. Kicking off her shoes, she tugged down her jeans and panties, leaving them around her ankles and leaning back in her seat.

Lifting her butt up, she slid the diaper under it, frowned, then flipped it over so that the tapes were in the correct spot. Spreading her legs, she folded the diaper over her crotch, feeling the thick padding force her thighs a little further apart. 

Fumbling with the first tape, she stuck it down where the instructions had said, before repeating the process with the other three. Sitting up, she checked the waistbands to make sure she wouldn’t leak on the seat, then checked to make sure nobody was near the car. 

“Okey dokey,” she said, once she was certain that nobody could see her. “Well then… Time to, uh… Pee, I guess.” Pursing her lips, she tried to relax.

She’d expected more trouble, but her body seemed all too willing to go. It took only the barest effort before her body released and began flooding her diaper. The diapers did their job, and most of the urine was soaked up instantly by the thirsty padding, making the crotch of her diaper swell and bulge, blurring the wetness indicator and ultimately staining the front of the diaper a deep yellow. 

There was no point trying to stop the flow, so Karen leaned back, just waiting for her body to be done. The soggy diaper seemed to sag and swell a little, but once she was finished, Karen was surprised to note that it seemed capable of holding quite a bit more. 

Also, by the dark yellow around the crotch of the padding, she realized she was dehydrated. 

“Okay,” she told herself, leaning over to grab a water bottle from the backseat. As she was leaning back, though, headlights flashed on the horizon and her heart jumped. 

Lunging forward, she grabbed her camera, fiddled with the strap, and powered it on, watching the car as it pulled over across from her. A second paused, the other car’s headlights died, and a man in a maroon shirt got out. 

Karen recognized him immediately and her heart surged as she raised the camera. When she pressed the shutter, though, nothing happened. 

Frowning, she lowered the camera and read the display. CARD ERROR.

“Fuck.” 

Her camera bag was in the back seat, and she reached for it, pulling it into her lap and trying to find another card without giving away her location. She heard a noise and looked up to see a big rolling garage door start to open to the warehouse. 

“Come oooon,” she half sang, feeling through the bag and finally laying her fingers on the card wallet. She took out the pouch, flipped it open, and selected a card at random. Pushing it into the camera, she waited, watched it load, and- 

“Card full? You’re fucking kidding me.” She went into the menu, flipping through settings, coming to the menu to format the card. A spinning dial appeared, spun for a few moments, and finally closed. 

Karen raised the camera, pointed it, and was just in time to see Simon step into the warehouse and out of sight. She clicked the shutter instinctively, but the resulting picture only showed the back of his head. 

She’d missed him.

Unless… 

The garage door was still open, but nobody was watching the street. If she was fast, she could creep up to it, snap the photo, and be back in her car before anyone was the wiser. 

There was no time to get dressed. That would have entailed taking off the diaper, pulling up her skinny jeans, and buttoning them in place. The garage door was going to be closed any second, and then her window of opportunity would be gone. Kicking her feet to pull off her shoes and then wriggling so that her jeans and panties fell on the car’s floormat, she threw open the door and stumbled out. 

She still had on her trenchcoat. That, alone, gave her a bit of modesty as she waddled stealthily towards the garage door. She was only fifteen feet away, and if Simon hadn’t gotten too far, she still had a chance.

Of course, at that moment the garage door started to close. 

Taking off into a toddling run, Karen’s trenchcoat fluttered behind her as she raced to beat the door. Camera in hand, she got to the corner, pointed it in, and-

Nobody. Her quarry was already gone, though she could see shadows moving around the corner as someone walked deeper into the warehouse. 

Karen was out of options. The garage door was going to be closed in a second, she had to make up her mind. Clutching her camera, she ducked under the garage door, rolling to clear the bottom before it slammed shut. 

For a second, she laid on her back, panting for breath. She hadn’t been expecting this sort of sudden exertion, it was a stakeout for goodness’ sake. 

Catching her breath, she started to stand, but was pulled back to the ground by her coat. Confused, she turned and saw that it was pinned by the garage door, hopelessly stuck unless she found the controls and opened the door. 

“Dammit,” she whispered, shucking out of the coat. With her jeans, shoes, and panties back in the car, she was down to wearing nothing but a thin shirt, socks, and a yellowed, sagging diaper. Not exactly a hard-boiled detective’s uniform. Still, if she didn’t get seen, it wouldn’t matter, and if she did get seen, she’d have a lot more to worry about than being teased over having potty-pants. 

Crouching, camera in hand, she crept deeper into the warehouse. She still had a job to do.