The Anti-Masker

by: | Complete Story | Last updated Mar 15, 2023


Chapter 4
A Leopard


Chapter Description: Jim’s relationship with the ghost is getting out of hand, maybe some gym time will help


“Yeah, he is 8 and still wet the bed… We have another exam next month to check for possible causes. The doctors seem really hopeful and think it’s treatable, we just need to find out more..” The young mother said over the phone, as I couldn’t help but hear her conversation


“Dearie, isn’t that your problem too? Wait, no, no, you are much worse, you are a bed pooper. Are the doctors hopeful in your case too darling?” The ghost floated around my head so I couldn’t avoid her snarky chatter.


Why bother? The useless doctors found nothing wrong. All they can do is create a panic over a seasonal flu, but damn them if they try to solve REAL shit” I answered 


“Oh no! *cough* Too bad, you’ll have to stay a poopy baby, pooping its pants forever! How terrible…”


I ignored the fucker as I picked another 2 packs of adult large diapers with extra absorbency. It's been a week, and every night I woke up with shit in my night diaper, sometimes some piss too. I bought sheet protectors and more regular (NOT ABSORBENT) briefs just in case I have day time shit slip through the crack, so to speak. Figured it would be easier to clean up.


During the day, I couldn’t risk any chances, and just went to the bathroom as soon as I felt something. My mind was set to one goal: Never. Ever. Have me shit my pants in front of people.


The worst thing, well, maybe not the worst, but the terrible thing was that old lady ghost, nagging me and humiliating me in my thoughts non stop. I tried to be zen and ignore her old saggy ass, just sometimes, she’s so annoying I couldn’t help myself.


On the ride home that day, she just wouldn’t shut up, after a long tirade of bitter, cold and awful things, she said softly


“Dearie, can you confess now that you’ve been a baby about the whole mask thing? That maybe, maybe, not putting a mask indoors risked the life of other people? Do you think you can do that?”


I was PISSED. Not only that our government and media keep going through this BULLSHIT, not only the suffering I was put through because of that stupid ugly CUNT, now she wants to lecture me more about this PROPAGANDA? 


“I’m the baby?? You DIED, weak and lonely to something most people can barely feel! You want to put blame on me, instead of looking at your small, miniscule, old body of yours and blaming yourself? YOU are the baby! YOU are the weak! Being polite here as much as I can, the entire planet is probably better off without your BETA female, weak body AND MIND of yours to drag us all with you” I was spitting facts (and actual liquid) from my mouth. I got so angry I barely noticed the look at her face.


Her eyes darted at me, hands crossed on her chest, even her height was somehow enlarged with her rage. The look she gave me was way too familiar: The face of a highly disappointed and angry female, watching me with judgment and disgust. I almost felt regret, but couldn’t, because I was right. I was the alpha male in the room, the alpha is never wrong, never admits defeat, never apologizes - all of this is weakness.


You could cut the silence with a butter knife. 

“1%. I won’t forget it” she said, vaporizing into the air


Finally! Some peace of mind” part of me was worried about what she said. What if now she’ll make me also piss myself with 1% chance? Or maybe something even worse, somehow. I shouldn’t take any chances, I’ll just go to the toilet as soon as I feel the need to.


____


Not even gym time could make me calm. The feeling of impending doom loomed over my mind like a dark rain cloud. What if I stay like this forever? What if it gets worse? Absorbed in my thoughts, I didn’t notice an urge starting to build. I yearned for a distraction, but it may have worked better than I imagined. 


A sudden familiar feeling startled me. I was at the chest press, feeling the need to go strengthened, but I couldn’t move. Try as I may, my body betrayed me, it just kept doing the bench presses set while my ass started to shit.


I was horrified, no, mortified, no, completely dead inside. This was my worst nightmare. I started to smell the turd pressing between my ass and my tighty whities. “Please, just end already” I cried eternally, it felt like hours of constant shitting. When it was done, my entire ass, balls and lower back was covered in warm shit. I finally got control in my body again, I needed to piss badly, I was probably stinking the entire place, I ran steadily to the bathroom, trying not to think about what others can probably smell or notice. On my way there, my dick gave me a final blow to the gut and started pissing. I barely managed to lock myself in the boot while a wet spot extended throughout my shorts, wetting my legs and socks.


“Fuck this! Fuck these underwear and shirt! Screw these socks, screw everything!” I stripped down, exposing the brown disgusting mush, threw everything tainted into the trash and got out of there quickly, not even bothering to take my stuff from te locker

“SCREW EVERYTHING!” I drove home wearing nothing but pants and a deep feeling of disgust.


_______

A thousand showers won’t make me feel clean after this experience. “Maybe some tight discrete diapers won’t be a bad choice” I thought to myself

No, no, no. This can’t be the solution” I started a weird self dialogue

It’s definitely can be worse, imagine it happening in front of a client or at the grocery store or anything crowded, I won’t be able to show my face anywhere

It’s degrading! wearing a diaper like a baby, a senior or some brain damaged

Wouldn’t it be more degrading standing there like an idiot, frozen, while shitting and pissing your pants? Diapers at least can prevent the mess and probably some of the smell

So what?I should just admit the bitch ghost was right?

You should just do what's best to save face in this fucking stupid situation


 


 

End Chapter 4

The Anti-Masker

by: Anonymous | Complete Story | Last updated Mar 15, 2023

Reviews/Comments

To comment, Join the Archive or Login to your Account

The AR Story Archive

Stories of Age/Time Transformation

Contact Us