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female The Life and Humiliations of Lavender Fairchild, or A Tale of Diaper and Doctorates


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Chapter Twenty-Six             The rest of our first day at the lake house passed largely without event. Vivian said nothing about my choice of underwear, which I was thankful for. We went to lu

Chapter Thirty             I wrung my hands nervously as I sat outside the director’s office, waiting for her to call me in.             Who told?             I knew it wasn’t Elyse

Hi yall! I've written a few stories in the past, but this is the first time I'm posting one here! There will be plenty of bed- and pants wetting in this story, but I'm putting it under diapered and AB

Two more chapters today, though one is admittedly pretty short! I hope yall enjoy and, as always, your comments and feedback are welcomed and appreciated!

Chapter Five

            “You didn’t come home last night,” Elyse said matter-of-factly as I emerged from my room. She was sitting on the couch with her laptop in her lap and some show on TV.

            Is she accusing you of something?

            No, of course not, what would she be accusing me of? She has no idea what happened! She couldn’t!

            But there was a trace of judgement on her face. Was she accusing me of something?

            “Yeah,” I gave her a guilty smile, “I had too much wine at Vi…Professor Devereux’s house.” I glanced back to my room to make sure I hadn’t left anything out in view before heading to the kitchen.

            “You were drinking wine with Professor Devereux?” Elyse’s eyes tightened at that. “What were you two doing?”

            “Just talking,” I grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge, cracked the cap open, and downed half of it in one go. “She made us dinner, and we talked about my dissertation,” I said a little breathlessly after wiping some stray water from my lips. “It was really no big deal.”

            “No big deal,” Elyse chirped sarcastically as she rolled her eyes.

            Then it hit me: Elyse was jealous. Of course she was. I had known for a long time that Elyse was jealous of me for getting to work so closely with Vivian…I mean, Professor Devereux.

            You can still call her Vivian in your head, you dummy.

            Elyse will get suspicious if she hears me calling Vivian by her first name.

            Suspicious of what? Nothing happened…except for you peeing the bed.

            My cheeks got a few degrees warmer.

            “Whatever,” Elyse said, breaking me out of my own thoughts. “I hope you didn’t do anything too embarrass yourself if you were drinking that much.”

            More embarrassing than you’ll ever know.

            “I didn’t drink that much,” I lied, matching Elyse’s emphasis on ‘that.’ “Just…too much to drive home. Besides, Professor Devereux insisted I stay the night, she said it was the least she could do after pouring me so much wine over dinner.”

            “Whatever,” Elyse closed her laptop and got up from the couch, “must be nice to be teacher’s pet.”

            “I’m not!” I forced my voice to stay mild. “It was just dinner! We talked about my dissertation!”

            “No one else is having dinner and wine with their advisor, Lavender,” she said condescendingly, as if I wasn’t seeing something that was obvious to everyone else, and began walking to her room. “At least when we get our doctorates, we’ll know we really earned them,” she slammed her bedroom door to punctuate her sentence.

            “I am earning it!” I told her closed door through gritted teeth.

            I did my best not to stomp as I walked over to the couch and, for the second time that day, flung myself on it. I had woken up from my nap in such a good mood too; now it was ruined.

            I had liked Elyse when we first met, but ever since Vivian agreed to be my dissertation advisor, she had been getting more and more bitchy towards me, she had never been so direct about it before. I could understand jealousy, but I couldn’t understand why she took it out on me.

            If only she knew what really happened.

            I’d rather she think I slept with Vivian. Better she thinks I’m sleeping my way through my doctorate than to know just how badly I humiliated myself in front of Vivian.

 

 

Chapter Six

            “I was hoping I could use you as a…sounding board for some ideas I have for my next book,” Vivian had said to me from across her cluttered but neatly organized desk in her campus office, “over dinner, of course. My house this Friday?”

            And that was how, two weeks after I had peed all over Vivian’s guest room bed, I ended up back at her house, despite my best judgement.

            “Again?” Elyse had blurted out when she heard. “Jesus, Lavender, I would think you two would want to be subtle at least.”

            “Of course,” I imagined Vivian saying as she poured my fourth glass of wine and I pressed my vibrator against my pull-up, “we’ll have to dress you properly for bed so we don’t have any more accidents.”

            And so it was with a tempest of swirling emotions sweeping through my brain that I once again drove to Vivian’s home.

            Just like before, I parked on the street, right in front of Vivian’s house, and checked my make-up in the rearview mirror. I was, at first, going to stick with the more conservative and mature look I had worn last time, but at the last minute decided that changing my appearance to try to appeal more to Vivian would only give fuel to Elyse’s suspicions. Tonight, I wore big, razor-sharp eyeliner wings with perfectly blended red and purple eyeshadow. Red glitter sparkled under my eyes and little x’s drawn in eyeliner high on my cheekbones just under the outer corners of my eyes embellished the look. Finally, a set of three eyeliner hearts drawn on the inside curve of my right eyebrow made sure people’s attention was drawn to my green-blue eyes. Blush highlighted my cheeks and the tip of my nose, and my lips were painted a deep blue.

            “So, Professor Devereux likes this whole…Hot Topic reject look?” Elyse had said flatly earlier that night while leaning against the frame of my bathroom door as I put the finishing touches on my make-up, proving that she would find a way to be suspicious no matter how I dressed.

            I like it,” I had replied, “it’s not for Professor Devereux.” I decided not to take umbrage at her description of my ‘look,’ and not just because I bought most of my clothes and make up from Hot Topic.

            “Uh huh,” Elyse had responded with a roll of her eyes, “and can I expect you home tonight?”

            “I slept in her guest room, Elyse,” I had responded, avoiding giving an actual answer. Surely, Vivian wouldn’t invite me to spend the night again…would she? Surely, I wouldn’t accept if she did, right?

            It’s not like you’d wet the bed a second time, right?

            “That’s not an answer,” Elyse had stated matter-of-factly before giving me a lingering accusatorial look and walking away.

            I pushed Elyse and her accusations out of my mind as I stepped out of my car. I was determined to have a good time and make a good impression; I felt like I had to prove I wasn’t some bedwetting dolt. Not that Vivian had treated me any differently since that morning; it was as if, to her, the whole incident had never happened.

            And she’s still flirting with you.

            I think we can now determine that she definitely was not ever flirting with me. There’s no way Vivian would keep flirting with me after I pissed all over her guest bed.

            Why not? Don’t you want someone who will flirt with you precisely because you pissed the bed?

            …shut up.

            I walked up the short flight of stairs to her front door, rang the bell, and waited.

            “Lavender, so lovely to see you,” Vivian’s melodic voice greeted me as she opened the door, “and you do look quite lovely tonight, dear! Please, come in.”

            “Thank you,” I blushed as I walked past her, “you look…”

            Hot as fuck.

            “…really lovely too.” And in her black pencil skirt and low-cut red silk top, she really did look lovely.

            And hot as fuck.

            Yes, and hot as fuck.

            “Thank you, dear,” she replied with a light touch on my arm that sent jolts of electricity through my body. “Come into the parlor, Lavender, let me pour you a drink.”

            “Oh, no,” I protested even as I followed her into the same room she had taken me to before, “I really shouldn’t drink.”

            “Nonsense,” she said as she pulled a wine glass out of her liquor cabinet and began to fill it from a bottle of white wine she had sitting in a bucket of ice. “This Riesling will perfectly complement the chicken marsala I made; it really won’t be the same meal without it.”

            I licked my lips and looked at the glass she was holding out to me. It seemed rude to say no; it seemed dangerous to say yes. But a glass of wine was exactly what I needed to take the edge off my nerves. But maybe my nerves wouldn’t be so…sharp if I hadn’t drank so much last time. But one glass wouldn’t hurt; I could even still drive home after one glass.

            You said one glass last time.

            And this time I mean it.

            “Oh, all right,” I said as I took the glass from her hand, “if you insist.”

            “And I do,” Vivian replied, “I’ve very much been looking forward to our evening together, Lavender.”

            She’s definitely flirting with you.

            “Oh,” I felt my cheeks turn red, “I, um, have been too, I’m really looking forward to hearing about your new work.”

            Vivian smirked as she poured herself a glass of wine, “ah, well, Lavender, I must admit that was…mostly a pretense.”

            I nearly choked on the sip of wine I was taking.

            Holy shit.

            “Not entirely, you see,” she continued after a small but intense silence, “there is, in fact, a piece I’m working on that I had hoped you could help me with, but more importantly I wanted to get to know you better. After all, we work so closely with each other, why not know each other a bit more personally. Of course, if you’d prefer our relationship stay more strictly professional…”

            No!

            “No!” I said, too quickly and too strongly. “I mean,” I tried to reel myself back in, “that sounds…pleasant; I’d like that very much.”

            Vivian smiled; electricity shot through my body.

            “Oh, I am so glad to hear that, Lavender. It’s been a long time since I’ve had the pleasure of advising a student so brilliant and, quite frankly, fascinating.”

            Fuck, she really is flirting with you.

            She really is. Fuck me.

            She’s gonna.

            “Thank you so much,” my cheeks felt like fire, “that means a lot…coming from you…”

            “Nothing but the truth, my dear,” she took a sip of wine, her eyes sparkling at me over the rim of the glass. “Shall I serve dinner, or shall we have a seat and chat a little before dinner?”

            I glanced at the couch she was gesturing at, and suddenly my stomach twisted with anxiety. I thought about sitting on that couch together, close enough to touch each other, and my nerves began to shake. I took a big gulp of my wine to calm them, “let’s sit.”

            “Fantastic,” Vivian grabbed the bottle of wine and took it with her as she made her way to the couch. “So, tell me, Lavender,” she sat on the couch and patted the spot next to her as her way of inviting me to sit down, “what do you like to do in your free time?”

            Wear pull-ups and fantasize about you.

            “Free time?” I said with a nervous laugh, “I’m afraid I don’t have much of that these days.”

            “Oh, I’m sure, your studies must keep you very busy; I remember well what it’s like to be a doctoral student! But you must make time for a little pleasure, Lavender, or you’ll simply burn yourself out.”

            Oh, you make plenty of time for pleasure.

            I took another sip of wine, “well, mostly I read to relax, but I suppose you could probably guess that.”

            “Lavender,” Vivian said with a hint of disappointment in her voice and a shake of her head, “you’re a doctoral student in literature, of course you read, but if that’s all you do to relax, you don’t really have a difference in your work versus your leisure, now do you?”

            “I…suppose not,” I chose not to mention that what I read for leisure was a far cry from what I read for work. A very far cry. “I…” was suddenly at a loss from what my hobbies were, “…watch a lot of horror movies?”

            “Oh, excellent!” Vivian exclaimed, “I love a good horror film myself. Have you seen It Lingers?”

            The next thing I knew, nearly half an hour had passed while Vivian and I shared thoughts on some of our favorite horror movies. Unsurprisingly, she had incredible tastes.

            “Have you seen,” Vivian asked as she picked up the bottle of wine and refilled her glass, “Shack in the Forest? It’s an excellent deconstruction of the genre!”

            “I have! It’s one of my favorites actually; I really like—” but I quickly cut myself off as the bottle in Vivian’s hand drifted towards my glass, “oh, no, thank you, but I really should stick to one glass tonight.”

            “Come now, dear,” Vivian gave me a wounded look, “we haven’t even started dinner yet, and there is always the guest room,” she gave me a small smile as she said it.

            Has she just completely forgotten what happened last time?

            I’m sure she just knows it was a fluke; I’m not a bedwetter!

            Or maybe…

            Don’t even go there.

            “I…shouldn’t…”

            But you want to.

            “Well, surely one more glass to have with dinner won’t hurt, will it? And if you should change your mind…” she made a vague waving gesture with the hand not holding the bottle of wine and gave me a smile that looked almost mischievous, “…well, let’s just say I made sure I’m well-prepared, just in case.” She placed a strange emphasis on the “well-prepared” that left me puzzled.

            What on earth does she mean?

            She was looking at me expectantly with the bottle of wine hovering over my glass. One more glass wouldn’t hurt, she was right about that. And it would be rude to turn it down since she specifically said she wanted me to have a glass with dinner.

            You’re doing it again.

            “One more glass,” I said with a weak smile, betraying my better judgement.

            “Perfect,” Vivian poured the glass and then stood up, “why don’t I go get dinner on the table?”

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On 12/4/2022 at 11:33 PM, Incontsecret said:

I am absolutely LOVING this story! It is just the right mix of sexy and wholesome!

Well done 😁

Sexy and wholesome is pretty much the exact mix I'm going for, so I'm glad to know I'm hitting the mark! Glad you're loving the story; thanks so much!

And here's another chapter for y'all! Just one today, but it's a longer one!

I also have two completed stories that I never posted to this forum that I'll be posting, so keep an eye out for those!

Chapter Fifteen

            Dinner soon arrived, and Vivian and I ate sitting around my tiny dining table. In truth, I usually ate at my desk in my bedroom or in the living room, as did Elyse; this was the first time our dining room table had been used for actual dining in quite some time. Possibly ever.

            “So,” Vivian said, segueing away from a conversation we had been having about the final papers I had written for my courses this semester, “what are your plans for the summer? Any summer jobs lined up? Vacations?

            I shook my head, “not really,” the truth was, I couldn’t afford to go anywhere. “Luckily, my fellowship includes summer funding, so I figured I’d spend my summer enjoying the peace and quiet of having the apartment to myself and work on research for my dissertation.”

            “A very responsible use of your summer,” Vivian replied with a grin. “Still, you must have some kind of fun, you deserve it after working so hard during the school year. If all you do is work, you’ll burn yourself out before you can finish your doctorate.”

            “I guess so,” and there was more than a little bit of wisdom in her words. Of course, what Vivian didn’t know was the there was a lot of fun to be had in enjoying the peace and quiet of my empty apartment; I had plenty of plans that included getting to relax in little space. That, to me, was vacation enough.

            “What about family? You’re not going on any family vacations this year?” Vivian asked, and I shook my head.

            “We don’t really do family vacations,” I explained, which wasn’t entirely true, but I had grown up poor and vacations were rare and usually just included visiting distant family. “Besides,” I continued, “I don’t exactly…get along with my family.”

            “I’m sorry to hear that,” Vivian frowned and reached across the table to take my hand.

            “Don’t be,” I forced a smile, “they just…aren’t…they didn’t take it well when I…well, they are a little on the conservative side, let’s just say that.” I squeezed her hand back, looked into her eyes, and found a genuine smile on my face. “But that just means I’ll be in town all summer and get to see you more, right?”

            “Right,” Vivian confirmed. “But perhaps you won’t be in town all summer after all.”

            “What do you mean?” I asked.

            “Well,” Vivian smiled slyly, “if you have no other plans, perhaps we’ll have to plan our own little vacation.”

            “Really?” I was suddenly giddy at the prospect.

            “Of course, dear,” she replied with a light laugh, “a week at a beach would be nice,” she said, clearly thinking out loud, “but a lake house might offer more…privacy. Or perhaps something in the mountains to get away from the heat a bit?”

            I smiled and blushed, “sounds like you’re thinking about a…” I wanted to say romantic getaway but was too embarrassed by how forward that was to say it. “Well,” I continued after a pause, “sounds like you’re thinking about a vacation with a lot of…alone time.”

            “You don’t seem to bothered by that prospect,” she teased.

            I bit my lip and shook my head.

            “So, how about it? Will you go on vacation with me, Lavender?”

            I nodded, perhaps a little too eagerly, “I’d really love that, Vivian.”

            “Then which sounds best to you? Or do you have any other ideas?”

            “A lake house sounds really nice,” I replied, already dreaming about it.

            “Then it’s settled,” Vivian said firmly, “I’ll start looking for houses to rent tomorrow.”

            From there, conversation drifted to all the things we could do with our week together—that is, the non-lewd things we would do, though I think we both knew there would be plenty of that.

            It should go without saying that, throughout our conversations, I kept pouring rum and cokes. By the time I cleaned up dinner as Vivian drifted back to the couch, we were both a bit past tipsy. Even Vivian was visibly intoxicated, a state I’m not sure I had yet seen her in; just how intoxicated was driven home for me as she paused halfway to the couch to take her heels off. It was weird, but weirdly intimate—with the exception of our Saturday mornings together, I had never seen Vivian without her heels.

            “Perhaps, my dear Lavender,” Vivian said with a giggle as she sat heavily on the couch, “you should make my drink a little weaker.”

            I hate to admit that I briefly considered ignoring her request; there was a part of me that wanted to see what Vivian was like when she was well and truly drunk. However, my conscience won out, and I poured a mere half of shot of rum into Vivian’s glass before pouring enough in my glass to make up for it.

            The pouring liquid triggered something in me, and I shifted and fidgeted as I made the drinks, rubbing my thighs together as I became suddenly aware of just how badly I needed to pee. Squeezing my thighs together and biting my lip, I clenched my all my muscles as a wave of desperation passed over me as the coke poured freely into the glasses. Finally, drinks made, I made my way over to Vivian with small, shuffling steps.

            “Everything okay?” Vivian said as I handed her the drink, clearly picking up on some peculiarities in my body language.

            Blushing and biting my lip, I stood in front of her as my alcohol-fogged brain churned through the situation.

            Go to the bathroom, you stupid little girl.

            But…I didn’t want to…

            That’s so stupid! You’re moments away from having an accident. Do you really want to have another accident in front of Vivian?!

            Maybe I did. Maybe that was exactly what I wanted.

            Fine, then do it; piss your pants right now.

            Maybe…but…oh god, it’s such a bad idea, I should just go to the bathroom.

            But wouldn’t it feel so good? And having Vivian see you have another accident would be so hot; she might even put you in pull-ups.

            “Lavender?” Vivian broke me out of my own head, “are you okay?”

            “Yes,” I smiled weakly, “sorry, I think I’m a little drunk.” I laughed nervously as I sat down next to Vivian.

            If you don’t make a choice soon, the choice is going to be made for you.

            But I knew that, of course, and maybe that’s why I wasn’t making a choice. Maybe…I wanted the choice to be made for me.

            Isn’t that the same as making the choice to have an accident?

            Maybe…but…

            I felt like my mind was chasing its own tail. Between the haze of alcohol and the pain in my bladder, I felt like I couldn’t think straight. I wasn’t thinking straight. I took another small sip of my drink and set it on the coffee table.

            As soon as I had set the drink down, Vivian leaned in, placing her hand on the back of my head and bringing me to meet her halfway. Our lips met and fireworks went off in my head.

            This is just like last time, and it’s going to end the same way.

            But the voice was too distant, too drowned out by Vivian’s lips, her hand on the back of my head and the other gently creeping up my side towards my breasts. I moaned against Vivian’s lips as her hand finally found my breast, then broke away from the kiss with a sharp gasp as she lightly pinched my nipple through my bra.

            Vivian was smiling coyly as I looked at her with surprise. Still fondling my chest with one hand, Vivian took her other away from the back of my head and placed it firmly on my chest, pushing me until I was leaning back against the arm of the couch.

            It wasn’t like Vivian and I had never had sex before, but she had never been this…forward, this aggressive. I’d never seen such hunger in her eyes before. My heart rate picked up and my breaths became slow and deep; I’d never seen Vivian like this before, but gods was it doing it for me.

            “Tell me you want me to touch you, Lavender,” she commanded, simply.

            “I want…” but I trailed off and bit my lip, suddenly too shy to say it.

            “What do you want, my precious little Lavender?” She had taken her hand away from my breast and instead lightly ran her fingers up and down my ribs, almost but not quite tickling. Her other hand was resting on my leg, tracing circles with her finger tips against the inside of my thighs. “Use your words, darling.”

            I made a sound that was part way between a whimper and a moan. My bladder was still pounding, pulsing even, and I wasn’t sure if my panties were wet from leaking or from arousal…or both. “I want,” I tried again, “I want…you to…”

            “Yes, go on,” Vivian coached me, “tell me what you want, little Lavender.”

            I bit my lip hard. Vivian couldn’t possibly know how much it drove me wild hearing her call me ‘little’ Lavender. “To, um…touch me…” I finally managed to get out.

            “And where, exactly, do you want me to touch you?” She was grinning evilly now, knowing exactly how much she was torturing me.

            “Um,” I grabbed the hand that was running up and down my ribs and placed it on my breast, “here.”

            “I said to use your words, my precious girl,” Vivian teased, but didn’t remove her hand, “but I guess that’s close enough for your first try, so good girl.”

            My body shuddered at a surge of electricity that passed through me, and I smiled proudly. I was a good girl.

            Vivian lifted herself off the couch to lean over me as she locked our lips together. “Tell me,” she said in between kisses, “is there,” kiss, “anywhere else,” kiss, “you’d like me,” kiss, “to touch you?” Kiss.

            Sharp pains pierced my lower stomach, but I pushed them away as best as I could. I nodded my head.

            “And where is that?”

            I strained my neck upward to kiss her again as I grabbed the hand on my thigh and slowly moved it higher.

            “Ah ah, what did I say, little Lavender?” Vivian broke off from our kiss and pulled her hand out of mine.

            I whimpered.

            “Lavender,” she said in a faux scolding, “what did I tell you to do?”

            “Tell you where I want to be touched,” I said meekly.

            “Yes, darling, but how did I tell you to tell me?”

            I bit my lip and looked away, “you said to, um, use my big girl words.”

            Vivian raised her eyebrows and for a moment she looked surprised, but then a big grin spread across her face. I registered the look of surprise, but my brain was too full of other things to even begin to parse where it had come from. “That’s right, little girl.”

            I made a small whimpering sound in my throat.

            Little girl.

            “Now,” Vivian said as she began to shift around on the couch until she was straddling my hips, “are you going to use your big girl words and tell me where you want me to touch you?”

            Once she was straddling me, Vivian lowered herself until she was sitting on me, which was just about the worst thing she could do.

            Her weight against my lower stomach pushed down on my bladder, and I gasped as the pressure forcefully emptied a portion of my bladder into my pants, the wetness in my crotch now undisputedly piss.

            Told you the choice would be made for you.

            “Vivian, I…” I struggled to simultaneously speak and fight with my bladder, which was threatening to empty itself completely and soaked both my jeans and the couch. Small spurts were coming out in irregular intervals as I desperately tried to get the words out.

            “Lavender? What’s wrong?” Concern filled Vivian’s voice and she lifted herself off of me and sat back down on the couch, recognizing that my mood had suddenly shifted.

            Unexpectedly, the release of the pressure from her body weight cause me to momentarily lose my fight, and a long stream of pee trickled into my panties, soaking my crotch and dribbling down my ass. No longer being held down, I scrambled off the couch. There was no way I could make it to the bathroom, but I could at least avoid soaking the couch.

            “Oh, Lavender,” Vivian said sympathetically as she realized what was going on.

            Vainly, I pressed my hands against my crotch, but I had already lost the battle. The crotch of my light blue jeans turned dark as the pee spread through the denim and began cascading down my legs. Humiliation burned through me, but I also couldn’t help but bit my lip and relish the sensation. The truth was, the humiliation was a distant sensation to my inebriated brain, but the tactile pleasure of the pee running over my most sensitive parts and down my leg was front and center in my thoughts. Even Vivian’s presence faded from the thoughts for the moment.

            And then it was over. I heard a drop of pee fall from my jeans and splash in the puddle that had formed on the hardwood floor beneath me.

            “Oh, Lavender,” Vivian repeated, breaking the silence, “I’m so sorry, darling.” She reached out and put a comforting hand on my arm.

            I just stood there, trying to process the deluge of emotions swirling through my brain. The truth was, what I wanted more than anything right then was to keep kissing Vivian, to have her touch me through my piss-soaked jeans. For Vivian, the mood might have been broken, but, for me, the mood was very much still there, perhaps even stronger for my accident.

            Not exactly an accident.

            Not exactly, but not exactly on purpose either.

            But closer to one than the other.

            “Vivian,” I finally spoke, “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened,” I lied.

            “Shh, it’s okay, it’s okay,” Vivian said reassuringly. “You were trying to tell me you had to go, weren’t you?”

            I nodded.

            “I’m sorry, Lavender, if only I had understood…”

            “It’s not your fault,” I replied quickly. It was definitely not her fault, but I couldn’t explain just how not her fault it was. I looked up at her, making eye contact for the first time in the past few moments, and was filled with the urge to jump on her and keep making out.

            Gods, I wanted her to fuck me.

            There’s no way she’s going to fuck you after watching you piss your pants. Not tonight anyway.

            “I should…take a bath…”

            “That sounds like a good idea,” Vivian stood up and took my hand, either oblivious to or unconcerned about the fact that I had just been pressing my hands against the pee-soaked denim. “Why don’t you show me to your bathroom?”

            I nodded and took Vivian to the bathroom that was conjoined to my bedroom. Immediately, Vivian let go of my hand and went to the tub to start the water. I stood there awkwardly in my peed in clothes as I watched Vivian adjust the temperature before plugging the tub.

            “Now,” she said as she turned her attention back to me, “let’s get you out of these yucky clothes, okay?” I nodded as Vivian grabbed the hem of my shirt and pulled it up over my head. “You’re gonna feel so much better after we get you all cleaned up,” she reassured as she reached behind me to unclasp my bra.

            For my part, I just stood there, relishing in how Vivian undressed me like a child.

            Next, Vivian unbuttoned by pants and peeled both them and my panties off me at once, instructing me to step out of them.

            “Lavender,” Vivian spoke as she gathered up my discarded clothes, seemingly unbothered by touching the pee-soaked clothes, “I don’t want to embarrass you, but…has this been happening a lot lately?”

            My face burned, “um, mostly just when I’m drinking,” I replied, mostly honestly. After all, the times it had happened lately when I wasn’t drinking had all been firmly on purpose.

            “Mmm, I see,” she said neutrally, and left it at that before asking for the whereabouts of our washing machine.

            After unsuccessfully attempting to dissuade Vivian from doing my laundry, I acquiesced and told her where our washer and dryer was, then finally climbed into the bathtub when I was finally alone.

            Putting my hair up to keep it dry, I leaned back in the tub and let the hot water wash over me, slowly inching its way up my body as the tubbed filled.

            As my mind played back the events of the last few minutes, I felt a little regret over bringing our…activities to a halt. I shuddered as I remembered her telling me to use my words, as I remembered her calling me ‘little girl.’ But what regret I felt was drowned out by how my mind buzzed over the humiliation of my accident. My hand dipped below the water and nestled itself between my legs as I replayed the moment in my head.

            “Has this been happening a lot lately?” Vivian’s question burned bright in my head as my imagination reached that point in the evening’s events.

            I imagined myself nodding meekly, “yes, Miss Vivian,” I whispered the words out loud as my imagination deviated from the real events.

            “I see,” Vivian would reply, disappointment clear in her voice, “I guess I was wrong when I thought you were ready for big girl panties, isn’t that right?”

            “Yes, Miss Vivian,” I would repeat then add, “I’m sorry, Miss Vivian.”

            “Oh, it’s not your fault,” she would smile condescendingly at me, “you’re just a little girl, after all. It’s my fault for expecting you to be big enough to use the potty. I guess we’re just going to have to go back to pull-ups, my little Lavender.”

            “Yes, Miss Vivian,” I would say for a third time.

            I gasped, suddenly jerked out of my daydream by a light tapping on the door.

            “Come in,” I called, trying to compose myself a little.

            The door opened and Vivian stepped in carrying a bundle of clothes she must have gotten from my closet. And something else. It took me a moment to recognize it, but my heart stopped when I did. On top of the pile of clothing in Vivian’s hands was one of my diapers.

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Chapter Sixteen

            Maybe if you don’t move, she can’t see you.

            I doubted it, but I couldn’t have moved if I wanted to. I was the proverbial deer, Vivian the car bearing down on me, and the diaper the headlights. Not just headlights: this was some inconsiderate jerk in the oncoming traffic lane with his brights still on.

            Worse, Vivian was just standing there, just inside the doorway, holding the stack of clothes with the diaper on top. It was a solid black diaper, a medical brand rather than the abdl boutique diapers I had debated on buying. I’d settled on the all black diapers because I figured they would be less incriminating should anyone ever discover them. At the time, I had thought I was taking an overabundance of caution, but apparently not.

            We stayed frozen like that, me in the tub and Vivian standing in front of the door, for roughly a lifetime before Vivian finally broke the deafening silence.

            “I, um, thought I’d get some clothes together for you,” she said in a rather subdued voice. This was one of the rare times I had seen Vivian’s cool confidence falter; she seemed to be a little embarrassed about the absorbent garment herself. A flickering candle next to the all-consuming bonfire of mortification raging in my body. “I was looking for your pull-ups…I mean…I assumed you had some for bed…I thought it would be for the best, since you’ve been drinking, so we don’t have any more…incidents?”

            Say something. Do something. Stop just staring at her!

            But what could I do? What could I say?

            She’s waiting for you to say something!

            What do you want me to say? Oh, yeah, those are my diapers? I don’t wear them though because I can’t put them on myself!

            Maybe she’ll—

            Don’t finish that thought.

            “Well,” Vivian continued awkwardly when the silence had stretched on for too long for her to bear, “I couldn’t find your pull-ups, but I found your…um…these.” She tapped the diaper, crinkling it slightly, just in case I thought she was talking about something else.

            “Um,” I said finally. I meant to say more, but I wasn’t quite sure what, and nothing was coming to mind or to my lips.

            “I can see I’ve embarrassed you,” Vivian said, understating her effect by a large margin. “I’m sorry, Lavender, I didn’t mean to snoop.”

            “It’s okay,” I choked out because that was what I was supposed to say and not because I felt that anything at all was okay in that moment.

            She’s going to find out all about your fetish. She probably saw the chest; she had to have, it was right next to the diapers. Did you remember to lock it? Oh gods, if she saw inside, we’re done.

            No, no, there’s no way she saw inside; if she had, she would have found the pull-ups after all.

            It was a particularly sound bit of logic in my otherwise panicked state.

            “It’s not,” Vivian replied, “I’m sorry if I invaded your privacy, Lavender, I was truly just trying to help, but I should have just asked.”

            Okay, okay, think, how are you going to get out of this mess?

            I’m not sure there is a way out.

            Then you have to go through.

            What the fuck does that mean in this situation?

            “I’m sorry,” Vivian repeated when I didn’t reply, “should…do you want me to leave?”

            “No!” I blurted out before I could even think about the question. “No,” I repeated more calmly, “of course not; I…I want you to stay.”

            “Are you sure?” Vivian set the pile of clothes and the diaper on the bathroom counter before walking over to the tub and kneeling down. “I can see how upset you are.”

            I took a deep breath. I had to go through. The panic was starting to abate and the gears in my head were groaning back to life as rational thought began to resume.

            “I’m just…mortified,” I replied in complete honesty. “I didn’t want you to see those.”

            “Lavender, I already told you, I don’t think any less of you because of your…problem,” she placed a comforting hand on my cheek as she spoke, “and that includes not judging you for how you choose to handle it.”

            It’s fine, it’s okay, she doesn’t suspect a thing, she just thinks you have them for your bedwetting. Lean into it.

            “I just…” I began even while the gears were still turning.

            Sometimes the pull-ups leak; you wanted to try something else.

            “Well,” I started over, “it’s just that…sometimes…not often, but sometimes the pull-ups, um…leak?”

            “Mmm,” Vivian made an understanding noise in her throat, “so you thought you’d try something with more…protection?” She finished for me.

            “Yeah, exactly,” I nodded in agreement.

            If you play your cards right now, Vivian might put that diaper on for you. This is your chance.

            But dare I take it? Was that what I wanted?

            Of course, it’s what you want, you dolt! You literally fantasize about it!

            That was true…but…

            “Do they…help?” Vivian practically prompted me.

            “Actually, I…don’t know,” I surprised myself with a burst of genuine laughter, “I couldn’t get them on right.”

            Vivian smiled, “I bet it is hard.”

            “I do have pull-ups though,” I added quickly, suddenly nervous about the direction I had taken the conversation.

            “I must have missed them; do you want me to get you one? I know it’s not bedtime yet, but, well, you said this has been happening lately when you drink, and…” Vivian trailed off.

            “No,” I said perhaps a little too emphatically, “no,” I repeated more softly, “but thank you.” The last thing I needed was Vivian retrieving pull-ups from my chest of secrets.

            “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass you or make you feel bad, I just thought…”

            I forced a reassuring smile, “Vivian, it’s okay, I really appreciate you and how kind and understanding and just…just wonderful you are about all of this. You’re right, I should wear one for the rest of the evening, I just don’t want to put you out.”

            “Darling, it’s no trouble at all! Why don’t you get out of the tub and all dried off, and I’ll get your clothes all ready for you, okay?”

            I leaned over the edge of the tub and planted a kiss right on Vivian’s lips. “How about,” I suggested, “you go make us more drinks, and I’ll be out there in just a minute, okay?”

            Vivian grinned, “that sounds lovely.” She kissed me again and left the bathroom. I let out a long, deep sigh; I felt like I’d been holding my breath since Vivian had first entered and could finally breathe freely.

That was…not quite a disaster.

            But pretty close.

            Not wanting to keep Vivian waiting, I quickly got out of the tub, dried off, grabbed the clothing Vivian had picked out for me, and headed to my closet. After making sure my closet door was locked, I placed the diaper back in its bag the best I could and put the combination in to open my chest.

            You could have had Vivian put you in a diaper.

            The thought thrilled me and terrified me. I could have, and that was both scary and exhilarating.

            But you chickened out.

            And I wasn’t sure I regretted it, but I already knew I’d be playing the alternative ending to that scenario on repeat in my head for weeks.

            I slipped a pull-up on and then got dressed in the clothes Vivian had picked out, feeling a rush of toddler-like giddiness over having my clothes picked out for me, then made my way out to the living room to finish my evening with Vivian, the pull-up rustling the whole way.

 

Chapter Seventeen

            The rest of our evening was relatively uneventful. My accident seemed to have sufficiently killed the mood we had going on beforehand, and we spent the rest of the evening just cuddling on the couch while we drank a few more rum and cokes and watched a horror movie. The occasional rustle of my pull-up went uncommented on by Vivian but was constantly exhilarating to me. It was just so…deliciously naughty to be brazenly wearing the garments that had brought me so much pleasure but also so much shame out in the open with Vivian. Naughty, yes, but also just…comforting.

            That night, I laid in bed with Vivian spooning me, her hand on my hip and her slow, gentle breaths in my ear. I laid there feeling more content than I could ever remember feeling and slowly wet my pull-up, making sure I’d be soggy when we woke up in the morning. I sighed and snuggled deeper into Vivian’s embrace.

            Do you think Vivian will make you wear diapers to bed at her house from now on since you told her the pull-ups sometimes leak?

            The thought came unbidden from the blue. It was, however, a good question; would she?

            If your pull-up leaks tonight, she definitely will.

            Maybe, but my bladder was empty.

            They only hold one wetting, if you wake up in the middle of the night needing to pee…

            I rarely do and, besides, if I did I would…well…Vivian is right next to me, I’d pee all over her too.

            Just more reason for her to put you in diapers at night now that you’re sharing a bed with her.

            I wondered briefly if tonight did in fact mean I would no longer be sleeping in the guest bed at Vivian’s house, but the thought was too secondary to everything else swirling through my head for me to focus on for long.

            The truth was, wetting myself in front of Vivian—

            For the second time!

            —had been mortifying but, yes, admittedly also incredibly hot. I had thought about that first incident with a vibrator pressed against my pull-up numerous times since that fateful day, and I knew tonight’s incident would just be fuel for that fire. In fact, I knew exactly what I would have been doing right that moment if Vivian hadn’t been asleep beside me. But sitting around with Vivian while I was casually wearing a pull-up? Knowing that Vivian knew I was wearing a pull-up and having that just be a casual, unremarked upon fact? The normalization of needing—or being perceived as needing—pull-ups because I had accidents? All of that was embarrassing in its own way, of course, but it was also…

            It makes you feel warm and comforted.

            Yes, exactly. But more than that, it was…

            Intoxicating.

            Yes, intoxicating, and I wanted more. Ever since this had all started, I had been fantasizing about a life with Vivian in which diapers and pull-ups and slightly more than occasional accidents all had a prominent role. Of course, it had always felt like a pipe dream, but that night was the first time I began to truly wonder if it was something I could have after all. The first time I began to truly think it was possible. It would be a commitment, no doubt, it would mean maintaining the charade as a lifestyle—it would mean lying to Vivian for as long as we were together.

            But is it really such an awful lie?

            It sure didn’t feel like it; it felt like a pretty harmless lie, all told, but a lie nonetheless.

            A lie Vivian seems willing to believe and accept; a lie that doesn’t hurt her in any way but that brings you a lot of happiness.

            But…could I really go through with it?

            You can; you’re just scared to.

            And that was the real truth. Vivian seemed ready and willing to accept the reality of being involved with someone who had to wear pull-ups and maybe even diapers, but was I ready and willing to live that life as more than just a fantasy?

            I stayed awake long after Vivian had fallen asleep with these questions burning bright in my mind. Eventually, though, the drinks and the comfort of my bed combined with Vivian’s embrace won over, and I drifted off to sleep, no closer to resolving my conundrum than I was when I first laid down.

            The next morning, however, things seemed much clearer.

            I awoke to an empty bed, which wasn’t too surprising. From the mornings I had spent at Vivian’s house, I knew her to be an early riser. I had made sure to show Vivian where we kept our coffee the night before for that exact reason, and as I laid in bed trying to shake off the last vestiges of sleep, I merely assumed she had already gotten up and helped herself to some coffee. My bladder was aching and no small part of me was tempted to flood my pull-up, but I knew I’d end up soaking the bed too.

            Do it. You told Vivian the pull-ups leak sometimes.

            But, of course, Vivian had already woken up and found the bed dry, and I couldn’t help but think it might be suspicious if I leaked now.

            If you’d asked Vivian to help you with your diapers last night, you could be laying here soaking your diaper right now.

            My cheeks warmed at the idea, but in the light of morning and with my thoughts no longer clouded by alcohol, I was relieved I hadn’t taken it that far. As it was, I was already feeling shame and no small amount of mortification for how far I had taken it.

            You pissed yourself like a toddler in front of her again.

            I groaned internally. I had. All because I was being stupid and chasing a pipe dream.

            That’s it, no more of this; you have got to stop this ridiculousness. No more accidents, day or night. You can just pass it off as a temporary problem caused by the stress of the end of the semester.

            I knew that was what I had to do, and I resolved to do just that. I sat up in bed, rubbing my face with my hands, my pull-up squishing beneath me, and promised myself that I would put an end to all of this silliness.

            And then Vivian walked in.

            “Morning, my darling Lavender,” she said brightly as she approached the bed with a steaming mug in her hand. “I made you some coffee, and I ordered us breakfast. Nothing special, just some waffles and fresh fruit from a nearby brunch place. It will be here shortly."

            I smiled groggily as I took the mug from Vivian, “thank you, sweetheart.”

            “My pleasure,” Vivian stroked my cheek gently, then ran her hand through my hair. “No…problems last night?” She asked suddenly.

            “Problems?” I asked as if I wasn’t sure what she was talking about, but my cheeks were warm.

            “No…leaks?”

            That time I blushed hard. She could have been asking whether or not I’d stayed dried, but instead she was asking if I had leaked; the fact that I was wet was apparently a foregone conclusion. I tried to hide my blush with a sip of my coffee, but there was no way she didn’t notice. “No,” I said quietly, “no leaks.”

            “Good,” she smiled at me in a way that seemed almost…proud? “Come on then,” she grabbed my hand and gently pulled me to my feet, “why don’t you go get yourself all cleaned up before breakfast gets here, okay?”

            But as I began to walk away, Vivian gave my butt two quick pats, pressing the sodden pull-up against me as she did. I was happy I was facing away from her; she could see neither the crimson of my cheeks nor the goofy smile spreading across my face.

            Okay, maybe you’re not quite done with this silliness after all.

            I definitely was not.

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I can now officially say that *The Life and Humiliations of Lavender Fairchild, or A Tale of Diapers and Doctorates* is complete! In fact, if you're eager to see how this all ends and/or just want to support ya girl, the entire novel is now available for purchase on kindle! Don't worry though, I will continue to post the story here, so if you don't want to buy it, you'll still be able to see how things end.

I will say, I had a lot of fun writing this, and it definitely won't be the last we hear from these characters! I've actually already begun thinking about what adventures might await these two!

And with that, here's another chapter!

Chapter Nineteen

            The week that followed was an…interesting one, to be sure.

            By Sunday, the vague sense of trepidation I had over openly wearing my little clothes and padding or using my pacifiers and sippy cups in the common areas of the apartment was gone without a trace. I spent the entirety of my Saturday dressed in a onesie and a diaper and sitting on my couch binge-watching a show I had been wanting to check out for months but had been too busy for. I drank exclusively from my sippy cup, and my pacifier was always clipped to the collar of my onesie. Granted, I also spent the day with the low but constant hum of my anxiety telling me Elyse would burst through the front door at any moment, thus discovering my shame and forcing me to run away and start a new life elsewhere. But it never happened, and the hum quickly faded. I even napped on the couch on Sunday afternoon, my diaper on full display, without a second thought.

            By Monday, Vivian was texting me pictures of the house we’d be staying in. It was an absolutely gorgeous Victorian-style house with a wrap-around porch right on the edge of a huge lake that glistened in all the photos. The house had a covered patio in the back that led right up to the edge of the water with a portion of the patio jutting out into the lake to serve as a private little dock. I spent no small amount of time that week simply fantasizing about lounging on that dock with Vivian. A little bit of sunshine and water and relaxation was exactly what I needed to recuperate from the busy semester I had just finished, and getting to see Vivian in what I imagined would be a sexy but sophisticated swimsuit was the icing on the cake.

            By Tuesday, I’d order a new swimsuit for myself. It was a simple, black two-piece with a skirted bottom. Perhaps more importantly, I’d also ordered more diapers: another pack of the all black diapers to bring on vacation and another pack of very babyish pastel diapers adorned with bunnies for at home. I’d winced more than a little at the cost of shipping to make sure I received them before I left for vacation with Vivian but had ultimately decided it was worth it. Or maybe I was just eager and rationalizing my decision. I also stocked up on pull-ups to make sure I’d have plenty for the trip—I was assuming there would be plenty of drinks, and I’d set myself enough of a precedent of having accidents while drinking that Vivian would probably be expecting me to wear pull-ups. Besides, the last thing I wanted to do was ruin the carpet in a rental house, right? Right.

            By Wednesday, it had been five days since I’d worn panties. I’d spent the vast majority of that time in diapers—though I was quickly running out—but some of it in pull-ups. Perhaps it was the novel excitement of diapers, perhaps it was the elation of having the privacy to wear whenever I wanted, and perhaps it was a little of both. Or, perhaps it was because in the back of my mind I was still wondering if I was truly ready and willing to take this farce to the point where I was wearing some kind of padding, whether that be diapers or pull-ups, full time. Gods knew I fantasized about it often enough, and Wednesday marked not only five days in padding but also five days of dwelling on that exact fantasy. But I knew the reality of wearing padding at all times was different than the fantasy, but every day I went without panties I was that much closer to not only feeling like it was something I could do but also like it was something I very much wanted to do. That said, it was one thing to wear them around my apartment for so many consecutive days, and quite another to have to wear them outside my apartment.

            By Thursday, I was determined to take my little experiment further. That afternoon, I changed out of a completely soaked diaper and into a pull-up. I did my make-up—nothing too fancy, just a little eyeshadow, some tame eyeliner, and red lipstick—and got dressed in clothes appropriate for being out in public—another first for that week. To say I was nervous would be an understatement, and I spent a long time in front of my full-length mirror making sure the pull-up wasn’t visible under my clothes. Once I was sure it was undetectable, I proceeded to hem and haw and find ways to procrastinate for another hour. Finally, though, I ran out of ways to delay, braced myself, and left my apartment. It was the first time I had ever ventured outside of my apartment while wearing padding—not counting Vivian’s house, of course—and I was equal parts terrified and thrilled. I got some lunch and did some grocery shopping, feeling increasingly more comfortable as my outing proceeded without incident. Of course, I knew one outing was only a small taste of what it would be like to wearing pull-ups all the time, but it was nonetheless encouraging. Needless to say, by the time I got home I was ready for some one-on-one time with my vibrator.

            By Thursday evening, I was packed and ready for a weeklong vacation with Vivian. Nestled in my suitcase was a full pack of my black diapers for nighttime and a pack and a half of pull-ups for daytime. I wasn’t planning on wearing the entire vacation, but I was certainly entertaining fantasies of doing so.

            And then it was Friday. My excitement over getting to spend a whole week with Vivian had kept me up most of the night before, like a child too excited to sleep on Christmas Eve, and I was up and getting ready for the day bright and early. Of course, I was already packed, and it was too early to get dressed and do my make-up to see Vivian, so I spent most of Friday morning double and triple checking my suitcases to make sure I had packed everything.

            I watched the clock impatiently as the day slowly ticked by and morning slid into afternoon.

            When my phone started to ring in the early afternoon and I saw Vivian’s name appear on the screen, I scrambled to answer as quickly as I could.

            “Hey sweetheart,” I said into the phone, trying not to let my eagerness into my voice, “what’s up?”

            “I was just calling to make sure you’re ready for our trip,” Vivian replied. It was so good to hear her voice. “All packed and such?”

            “All packed!” I repeated back. “I can’t wait.”

            “Neither can I; I’ve been looking forward to this all week. I only just finished my grading yesterday, and I am ready to relax.”

            “You deserve it!”

            “We both deserve some rest,” Vivian replied, “but, if I’m being honest, I’m much more excited to see you.”

            I blushed hard, “yeah?”

            “Of course, darling,” Vivian’s voice was more than a little sultry, “I simply can’t wait to have you all to myself for a whole week. If I’m being honest, the thought has kept me more than a little…distracted over the past week.”

            “I know what you mean,” I admitted with a small laugh, “I’ve been thinking a lot about it too.”

            Probably not about the same exact things as Vivian, though.

            That was probably true.

            “I’m so glad to hear that,” Vivian replied—and by her tone of voice, I could easily imagine the mischievous grin that was on her face as she did.

            “Listen,” Vivian said after a short pause, her voice suddenly much more serious, “there was something I wanted to talk to you about before tonight.”

            “Oh?” My anxiety suddenly spiked at her variation of ‘we need to talk’ and my monosyllabic response was about all I could muster.

            “It’s nothing bad,” Vivian added quickly, clearly picking up on the nerves in my voice, “it’s just…well…Lavender, I really don’t want to embarrass you, but…”

            My mind was racing trying to figure out where this was going, but there was one thing I knew for certain: it was definitely about my accidents.

            “I’ve been thinking over the past week, and I think it might be best if you bring some of your, ah…diapers for nighttime, just considering the bed at the lake house probably might not have a mattress protector.”

            My heart skipped several beats.

            She told you to bring diapers.

            My cheeks were burning, but I also had butterflies in my stomach.

            She wants you to wear diapers to bed.

            I had to stop myself from replying with a soft ‘yes, Miss Vivian.’

            “I’m sorry, Lavender,” Vivian said when I didn’t reply for a long moment, “the last thing I want to do is embarrass you, I just thought it might be for the best, but ultimately it is your decision.”

            “No, I…it’s okay,” I replied at last, “you’re…probably right, after all. I’ll make sure to bring them.”

            “Thank you for understanding, Lavender,” there was more than a hint of relief in her voice, but I wasn’t sure if it was relief that I agreed or relief that I wasn’t upset by the request. “And, ah, I also think that…well, in consideration of the fact that I’m sure we’ll be having quite a few drinks over the course of our vacation…”

            She wants you to bring pull-ups too.

            My heart was thumping in my throat. Was this really happening?

            “…perhaps you should bring some of your pull-ups, too?” Vivian finished hesitantly.

            I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

            Looks like it’s a good thing you bought more.

            “Yes,” I replied, trying to keep my voice level and not give away how excited or how nervous I was, “I think that’s a good idea.”

            “Good girl,” Vivian said, and my whole body blushed.

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Chapter Twenty

            “No, no, darling, hold the knife like this,” Vivian corrected gently as she stood behind me and watched over me as I diced a section of onion for tonight’s dinner. As she spoke, she reached around and adjusted my grip on the knife, “and hold the onion like this,” she continued as she corrected my grip there. “And elbow out and up, there you go! Try now.”

            “This feels so awkward though,” I whined as I tried to hold the onion steady with my fingers curled under my hand.

            Vivian chuckled, “I know, darling, but its for your own safety. You wouldn’t want to cut yourself, would you?”

            “No,” I conceded with a pout, but it quickly dissipated into a grin. I couldn’t help it; Vivian was being so nice as she was teaching me to cook. It made me feel a little giddy and filled my belly with butterflies.

            “Is it too uncomfortable? Maybe you’re not quite ready, would you like me to do it?” Vivian offered without a hint of condescension or judgement in her voice.

            The thing was, I was familiar with Vivian as an educator. Sure, teaching doctoral level literary theory classes was a bit different from teaching basic cooking skills, but I was still surprised to see this was a whole new side of Vivian. Well, not entirely new; her confidence and grace were still very much intact, after all. But as a professor she was very cool and witty—more so, she was brilliant in a way that was sometimes intimidating but always made you want to aspire to her level. Professor Vivian Devereux constantly challenged you to grow and learn as a student, not because she was mean but because she wanted you to be the best you could be. It was, in no small part, what attracted me to her in the first place.

            But this Vivian, the Vivian who gently placed my fingers in the right places on the knife, was warm and patient. She was, dare I say, almost motherly. She was encouraging but let me set the pace. She was content to let me learn little by little, never pushing me out of my comfort zone. Maybe the difference was that you couldn’t chop off a finger while studying literary theory—though I had certainly received more than my fair share of paper cuts—but in this setting, Vivian was more the type to hold your hand (literally and figuratively) and force you to keep a slow pace.

            I had fallen for Vivian the brilliant professor, but I adored this side of Vivian just as much. She made me feel…like I was being taken care of. She made me feel safe; as uncomfortable as it was to hold the knife and potato like she had shown me, I trusted that Vivian would never let me hurt myself.

            Gee, it’s a real mystery why you like this side of Vivian so much.

            Shush.

            “Nu uh, I got this,” I shook my head and focused on the knife and the onion.

            “Okay, darling, just remember how to cut, all right? Back and forth, just like that, good!”

            Vivian continued to cheer me on as I slowly diced the onion. It wasn’t like this was the first time I’d ever diced a vegetable, but it was the first time I had done so with the ‘proper’ grip, which felt so unnatural to me that it may as well have been my first time cutting anything at all. I grinned and blushed at Vivian’s encouragement, but kept my focus, oblivious to the way I was biting my lip in concentration. I held the flat of the knife against my knuckles like Vivian had told me, despite how counter-intuitive that had seemed to me, and slowly worked my way down the length of the section of onion.

            “There!” I exclaimed as I got to the end. “I did it!”

            “Good job, darling!” Vivian laughed as she lightly applauded me. I couldn’t help but grin; I felt genuinely proud of myself. “Why don’t you take a break and let me finish the rest of the onions?”           

            “Okay!” I agreed and handed the knife to Vivian—handle first, just like she had taught me earlier that evening. “Thank you for teaching me to cook,” I said as I took a seat on one of the stools around the kitchen island.

            “Oh, darling, you’re quite welcome; I’m having a blast doing it. You seem like you’re having fun, too?” She half-said/half-asked.

            “I am,” I confirmed. “I’ve always meant to try learning to cook, but…well, you know, grad school has kept me pretty busy.”

            “I understand that perfectly,” Vivian empathized as she chopped the onions. Her hands moved confidently and swiftly—I absolutely would have chopped a finger off if I had tried to chop them as quickly and efficiently as she was. “I’m surprised your mother didn’t teach you when you were younger though.”

            I shrugged and took a sip of my water—Vivian had said absolutely no alcohol until I was done handling knives. “To be honest, my mom wasn’t much of a cook either,” I said, kicking my legs back and forth as they dangled off the stool. “We ate a lot of frozen food…and fast food…and stuff that came out of boxes…”

            “Sadly, being able to have homecooked meal is quite a privilege,” Vivian said. “I like to say that everyone should know at least the basics of how to cook, but the truth is that many people simply don’t have the time or means to learn. And then the reality of life is that cooking truly is an investment of time and energy that many families simply can’t afford these days.” She said, then looked back over her shoulder at me with an apologetic smile, “but I’m rambling. Sorry, I think I went into professorial mode for a second there.”

            “You’re cute when you get all professorial,” I’d seen Vivian blush a few times, but I always felt a little accomplished when I managed to bring red to her cheeks. “And you’re right,” I added before taking a long drink from my water.

            “Why don’t,” she began speaking as she wiped her hands on her black apron, “you go make yourself a glass of wine while I pop into the restroom for a moment?”

            “Are we done cutting things?”

            “No,” Vivian replied, “but I think you’ve learned enough for one night, I can finish up while you watch. Sound nice?”

            I nodded, “but I’m not in the mood for wine tonight.”

            “No wine?” Vivian’s heels clicked on the tile as she walked over to me and stroked my cheek with a single finger, “well, what are you in the mood for, poppet? I have a full liquor cabinet if you want something harder and some soda and juices if you’d prefer something softer.”

            “Something harder, for sure,” I said with a breathy laugh.

            “Harder?” Vivian laughed, “all right, my dear, what will it be then?”

            I grabbed her apron and pulled her down and into a long kiss. “Surprise me?” I said quietly when I finally broke the kiss off. “But something strong.”

            “Certainly,” Vivian said, “how could I say no to such a strong request?” Vivian grinned, then turned and left the room, her heels clicking the whole way.

            Her ass looks great in the skirt.

            It really does. It’s making me feel self-conscious, to be honest.

            Up until tonight, I had always gotten dressed up for Vivian and mine’s nights together, but I had dressed much more casually tonight. I figured we were at that point in our relationship, especially since we were about to spend a full week together and it wasn’t like I was going to be dressed up the whole time. In fact, I was pretty sure I would look like a hot mess some of that time. And so I had shown up in a plain black t-shirt under a pair of denim shortalls with a pair of high top sneakers. Vivian, meanwhile, had answered the door in a black pencil skirt, low cut blouse, sheer pantyhouse, and black heels.

            Maybe that is casual for her.

            And the thing was, I would believe it.

            I untied the apron Vivian had given me—like hers, it was black, but unlike hers, it was lined with a pink ruffle—and hung it back up. Then I chugged the rest of my glass of water and went to the fridge to refill it.

            Still going through with this?

            Yes. I think so. Definitely. Probably.

            My stomach flipped.

            After my phone call earlier that day with Vivian, I had sat down at my desk and spent a long time lost in thought. There was a lot to think about: things that, to be truthful, I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about for weeks, but had never come to a conclusion on despite that. But after that phone call, I knew it was time to do just that. I had to once and for all decide how far I was going to take this whole charade I had gotten myself tied up in. I sat at my desk for hours and agonized over it, weighing the options, predicting how Vivian would react to certain scenarios, and considering what my life would be like in those scenarios.

            The thing was, I knew I should call it off entirely. Anything else was dishonest. But the truth was, I simply couldn’t. I had come too far, and now that I’d had a taste of my fantasy, I couldn’t give it up. Continuing the charade might have been dishonest, but ending it felt like giving up on something that I had been coveting for years and made me happy.

            And it’s not like the lie hurts Vivian, right?

            Right.

            So, the decision came down not to whether or not I would end the charade, but to what my endgame was. I could stop having accidents during the day entirely and just stay a bedwetter, or I could keep having the occasional accident whenever I had a few too many drinks. Either option would have made me happy. But I could also up the ante and start having accidents more frequently during the day. I could make Vivian think I needed to be in pull-ups all the time—that is, of course, except at night when I would be in diapers. Finally, and speaking of, I could go even further and…

            Absolutely not.

            Right. That option was quickly dismissed as being hot but impractical.

            Truthfully, I don’t think I would have made the decision I did if I hadn’t spent almost the entire week prior in pull-ups and diapers, but I did, and it had been glorious. So I chose to take it as far as I dared, which meant I had come to Vivian’s that night prepared to once again humiliate myself.

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