The Humble Games- S02 E01 (Part Two)

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Part Two

It had taken her ages to pick out an outfit that was professional enough for the first day of her potentially new job (but loose enough to hide her diaper.) Eventually she settled on a blouse and a skirt that looked professional and alluring but were loose enough to hide her diaper (mostly anyway—she thought she could detect a trace outline in the mirror before she left- she just prayed it wouldn’t be too noticeable.) But now Rachel was making great time on the freeway, and she knew she’d have plenty of time to get there. She was even getting used to the thick, thirsty diaper she had strapped to her rear-end, though the tell-tale crinkle that emerged every time she shifted her butt still made her blush.

     Only now she had a new problem: she’d left in such a hurry, she hadn’t had any time to make breakfast, and now she was starving. What was worse, she felt the strong coffee she’d gulped down earlier burning inside her… and that could mean big problems later in the day, she thought with a blush. She had to get something in her stomach… something to fill her up and soak up a bit of the coffee, before it went nuclear inside her.

     So she quickly pulled into McDonalds, breezed through the line and ordered a sausage McMuffin and (after some torturous internal debate and some scolding from her voice of reason) a small coffee, figuring that it would be fine if she just sipped it slowly throughout the morning.

     But by the time she’d gotten her food and pulled back out on the freeway the traffic had started to thicken, and Rachel cursed her luck, munching her rich, greasy breakfast hungrily and washing it down with dainty sips of coffee. Her head start quickly evaporated, and she studied the clock nervously—it was going to be close. Rachel ate quickly and took anxious gulps of her coffee.

     Soon the coffee that was supposed to last her all morning was half gone. Her hunger was satiated, but now Rachel’s stomach was rumbling for an entirely different reason: the large dose of caffeine she’d consumed in such a short period was making her tummy gurgle and grumble, and she could feel herself getting gassy. Suddenly the car felt very hot, and beads of perspiration were starting to form on her forehead. She turned up the AC and tried to relax, but the burbling in her bowels continued to nag at her. She suddenly realized she’d neglected to have a bowel movement before she’d left, and cursed her luck, frowning about the mess she no doubt had brewing in her… a mess she would now have to make in her diaper, unless she wanted to risk incurring the displeasure of the Game Master. She shivered at the thought, recalling what she’d seen him do to those who’d challenged his authority on TV. Oh God, she thought bitterly, what’ve I gotten myself into?

     Rachel shifted and squirmed her rump uncomfortably. The bulky, crinkly padding around her loins had grown quite hot, and the constant, nearly involuntary wriggling of her bottom in the warm, sweaty confines of her pampers wasn’t bringing any relief. She cranked up the AC, but the inferno was inside her, burning, making her bowels percolate wildly. Her guts felt swollen like an over-stuffed sausage, and her bladder, she realized for the first time, was on the verge of bursting. She fought it as well as she could, but it quickly became apparent that she was going to have to choose between keeping her pampers dry and keeping them clean. It was no choice at all for Rachel—the thought of having to introduce herself around the office with a loaded, stinky diaper under her professional attire was simply too horrible to contemplate. With a long, shaky sigh, she spread her legs and tried to relax and just let go. But her bladder was being stubborn, so she had to push a bit, forcing out a tiny trickle into the soft diaper under her.

     Rachel blushed, the cottony padding beneath her growing warmer and damper by the second as the stream of urine grew stronger. She bored down and pushed, emitting a grunt as she did. Her efforts were rewarded by a strong gush of urine, accompanied by a sizable fart that rumbled nosily, even through the seat of her diaper. “Oh!” she exclaimed quietly, her cheeks flaring quite red. The sense of relief was fantastic, and Rachel allowed herself a soft sigh—her stomach was still giving her trouble, but at least she didn’t have to worry about her bladder anymore.

     No sooner had she finished then the traffic started moving again. Rachel glanced at the clock and breathed a sigh of relief… cars were moving at a decent clip, and it looked like she was going to have plenty of time. Her stomach roared, reminding her of her predicament—quite unnecessarily, in her opinion. Inside, her bowels wear aching, wracked by cramps, and within her diapers she felt the pressure growing and growing. Rachel licked her lips and brushed a sweaty lock of hair from her eyes, weighing her options. She briefly thought about just filling her diaper here in the car, then pulling off someplace to call the Master and get a change, but she quickly nixed that—not only would it make her late, she just couldn’t stand the possibility that someone might catch them in the act… having it show up on the internet after the fact was bad enough. Once she was at work and in her office she could “unload” discretely and phone the Master from there (and just pray he was as quick and quiet as he had been in the kitchen that morning.)

     All well and good… provided she could make it. Rachel sweated, gritting her teeth and clenching her cheeks as tightly as she could, desperately hoping that the pressure would subside… but it didn’t, and she began to have visions of her stomach bursting open. She tried to hold it in, but she’d reached the breaking point… Rachel heard herself pass gas loudly, the gooey, bubbling sound barely muffled by the diaper. She was embarrassed, but her relief compelled her to sigh contentedly.

     She continued on down the freeway like this, maintaining a decent speed and occasionally emitting noisy farts into her diaper whenever the pressure became too much. It was working pretty well, but by the time she’d pulled into the parking lot, Rachel knew she was quickly reaching the end of the line—her next fart could bring disastrous consequences. She got out of her car and wobbled toward the front door as best she could while straining her backside mightily. Rachel cursed, swearing she could hear a small, tell-tale crinkle as she walked.

     Too late to worry about it now, she told herself, forcing a smile on her face as she pushed inside.