From College to Crib

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Chapter Description: Alice is having a tough time of it and even messages from her best friend, Kat, can't make her feel better as she tries to go along with her Mom's rules. How bad was it going to get?

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Unfortunately for me, the next few days quickly deflated my optimism. I was still having to run to the toilet, I still found wet marks in my pull-ups and, worst of all, I was still wetting the bed. My pull-ups were not doing a good job of containing these accidents and Mom had even got my old plastic sheet for the bed to save the mattress from more abuse. I cringed when I saw it but there was no arguing about whether it was necessary.

After taking the sheets down after another wet night I dispiritedly went over to my laptop with a fresh pull-up on. I waited for it to boot up and once it reached the desktop I was bombarded with notifications. Kat had been sending me messages but with all the anxiety of the last week or so I had rarely been online to see them. I opened up the messenger and scrolled through the messages.

“Alice!”

“Hello?”

“Are you alright?”

“Hey.”

“I need to talk to you!”

Each message was a day apart. I really didn’t want to speak to my friend. It’s not that I didn’t like Kat, I loved her, but with everything that was going on I didn’t know what to say. I hated lying but it was quickly becoming my default method of communication because the truth was a thousand times worse. I was about to close the messenger when another message came through.

“Alice? Are you online?” Kat asked tentatively.

I rolled my head back and stared up at the ceiling. Now it felt like I couldn’t ignore just Kat. It will have come up on screen that I’d read her message, to close the program now would’ve been very rude.

“Hi Kat.” I typed, “Sorry, I’ve been really busy.”

“That’s cool! Doing anything fun?” Kat asked innocently.

I snorted derisively.

“Not really.” I replied. It was the understatement of the year.

“Oh, that sucks.” Kat added a frowning face to her message, “Hey, guess what!”

“What?” I asked.

“I’m going to be in your town!” I could feel Kat’s excitement as she typed, “I’ve got a job interview in your neck of the woods. We could hang out! You could show me that roller rink you were raving about!”

I swallowed nervously. There was obviously no way I could let Kat come and see me. Mom would humiliate me, not to mention the pull-ups and urgency for the bathroom I frequently experienced. I could still smell the urine in the air from my last bed wetting episode. Kat seemed so excited though, I hated letting her down, but I didn’t feel like I had a choice.

“I’m sorry, Kat…” I typed slowly, “I don’t think I can meet up. I think I’m busy that day.”

“I haven’t told you what day I’ll be there.” Kat replied after a little bit.

I closed my eyes tightly and kicked myself. Now I was making it sound like I didn’t want to hang out with Kat at all. Nothing could’ve been further from the truth. I would’ve loved to meet up with my best friend but I couldn’t do that when things were like this for me.

“I’m sorry. I’m just really busy.” I typed quickly as if that explained the situation.

Before Kat could tell me what a bad friend I was, I shut down my computer again. I put my head against the desk and let out a deep breath. Outside my room I could hear Mom coming up the stairs and just as she reached the top, I felt a very sudden urge in my bladder. I gasped as I clamped my muscles shut and stood up so quickly, I knocked my chair over.

Hurrying out of the room I was just in time to see Mom walking into the bathroom and closing the door. I felt my heart sink. This was really bad. Straight away I started trying to think of alternatives. Could I pee in the garden? No, Mom would notice, and I probably couldn’t get there in time anyway. Could I urinate in the trash can in the corner of my room? No, there were a lot of holes in the mesh and it would go everywhere.

I staggered forwards with my hand clamped to the front of the pull-up that seemed to almost be inviting me to use it. I couldn’t explain how the urge had come on so quickly. Had I needed to go for ages and just not paid attention like a pre-potty-training toddler? Or had my body just got so bad at holding on it was barely even trying? The doctor had said there was nothing wrong, but this didn’t seem normal. Surely it wasn’t all psychological.

“Mom!” I called as I knocked on the door a couple of times. I was trying to sound calm and failing miserably, “Mom!”

“What?” Mom called out.

“I really, really need the toilet!” I exclaimed. Even as the words left my mouth, I felt a trickle of warmth blossoming in my pull-up.

“I’ll be done in a minute.” Mom replied, “You aren’t the only person in this house. Sometimes you have to wait. Honestly, I do-…”

Mom kept talking but I was no longer listening. I had sweat on my forehead and my knees were wobbling as I sunk down a little bit. Tears filled my eyes. Not again. I couldn’t have another accident. Please not again.

No one was answering my prayers. The sphincter holding back the torrent in my bladder weakened and then gave up. My hand was still clamped to my crotch as I felt the rush of urine soaking into my pull-up. I could feel the padding quickly getting warmer and expanding but I knew it didn’t have infinite absorbency. In desperation I tried to tense up again, to stem the flow and at least give the pull-up time to soak some of my accident up before more came but my body was helpless against the flood.

It was inevitable but when I felt the pee running down my thighs I gave up completely. I pulled my hands away to avoid them getting wet and my shoulders sagged. The pants I was wearing grew two huge dark streaks down my legs as the pull-up gave up trying. By the time I had finished wetting myself there was a steady dripping on to the carpet between my feet.

I stayed there silently until the bathroom door opened a minute or so later. I was looking down at the floor, I didn’t need to look up to know how Mom would’ve been looking at me. I waited for the inevitable shouting and wondered if another spanking was coming my way. Instead, she just let out a long and tired sigh.

“Get in there and clean yourself up.” Mom said as she held the bathroom door open for me.

I didn’t wait for a second invitation. I felt utterly gross. I started to gingerly pull down my soaked pants when I realised Mom was still holding the door open. I sheepishly looked back over my shoulder to see her thin-lipped serious expression. She shook her head.

“This is the last time.” Mom said, “Any more accidents and we will have to think of an alternative to help you.”

With Mom’s cryptic warning delivered she let the door close. She didn’t need to tell me to clean the carpet when I was done in the bathroom, that was a given. Right then I didn’t care. I stripped off as fast as possible and jumped into the shower to let the warm water cleanse me. It could do nothing to cleanse my thoughts though. My anxiety at what was happening to me and the worry of what Mom meant by an “alternative” racked my mind nonstop.

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“Why do I have to come?” I whined as I stood at the foot of the stairs.

“Because I don’t want to leave you home alone.” Mom replied as she picked up her car keys.

“Mom, I’m twenty-three years-old…” I said with a sigh, “I can look after myself.”

“This isn’t up for discussion.” Mom said with a finality that made further argument pointless.

I finished putting my shoes on and waited for Mom. She had to go to the DMV to get her license renewed and why I was forced to join her was a mystery to me. I would much rather have stayed in my room hiding from the world.

“Do you need to use the potty before we go?” Mom asked as she put a hand on the door.

“No.” I replied as my cheeks reddened. I had made sure to go before coming downstairs.

Mom had taken to calling the toilet a “potty.” I wasn’t sure why she was doing it, but it certainly embarrassed me every time. Maybe that was the point. Trying to shame me into being better with my toilet habits. The truth was that in the last few days I’d been running to the toilet increasingly often and, more than once, had to change out of a slightly damp pull-up. Mom’s warning about what would happen if I kept wetting myself still rang in my head though and I always disposed of them as stealthily as possible. I didn’t think Mom had noticed the pull-ups seemingly going missing as I went through them.

The door opened and I followed Mom outside and to the car. I couldn’t help feeling nervous, it seemed totally reasonable to feel that way, I’d been having issues getting to the toilet and so whenever I didn’t have one close by, I felt on high alert. It didn’t seem Mom had any such concerns though. In her view I was an adult, and an adult didn’t have to worry about such things, especially after the doctor gave me a clean bill of health. Hhe thought I was just being lazy.

It was a reasonably short drive but when I saw the parking lot I groaned. The DMV was its own building, and the dozens of cars parked outside the entrance made me think it was going to be very busy. This was confirmed after we parked up and walked inside to see several long queues of impatient looking people.

“Come on.” Mom said apparently undaunted by the number of people ahead of us.

I hated the DMV. It seemed designed to be as slow and inefficient as possible. The different queues were marked off by red rope as Mom joined the one furthest from the door that also seemed the shortest by a marginal amount. And then we waited.

Ten minutes later it didn’t seem like the queue had moved at all. Neither Mom nor I had said a word, and I was bored out of my mind. Yet again I was left to wonder why Mom had decided it was important I accompany her. I looked at the kids that had been dragged here with their parents and looked very annoyed about it and felt a kinship with them.

“How long is this going to take?” I asked.

“I don’t know, Alice, I can’t see the future.” Mom replied.

“Can I go wait in the car?” I continued.

“No.” Mom answered shortly.

I huffed but knew that she wasn’t going to change her mind. People had joined the queue behind us now. We were essentially boxed in with people in front and to our rear whilst the rope was on each side. The only noise was a general murmur of conversation occasionally punctuated by a child’s patience running out and having to be given some attention. The air was filled with a sense of general impatience.

Another ten minutes passed and all I wanted to do was sit down. The air in the office felt stale and the collective heat of everyone left it stuffy. The fact we were so far from the door and the fresh air wasn’t helping matters. By now we were halfway to the desk, but the waiting was interminable and, as much as I wanted it to not be true, I needed the bathroom.

I looked around, craning my neck to see over and around the other people in the room, but didn’t see a bathroom anywhere. With a sigh I knew what that meant. I didn’t exactly want to wet the pull-up, but it was looking like that would be my only option. We stepped forwards another place as the people at the front finished their business and left. I then stood still, closed my eyes and relaxed as much as I could.

A trickle of urine streamed out of me and into the thin pull-up padding. The warmth wasn’t a shock to me at this stage, but it still simply felt “wrong.” I did my best to keep the flow to a minimum so the pull-up wouldn’t leak and, thankfully, by the time I finished the padding had swollen up but still held.

I didn’t get much time to celebrate though as a second later there was a rumbling in my bowels that let me know I wasn’t finished. I swallowed nervously and looked around. My bowel control hadn’t been as bad as my bladder, but I wasn’t feeling confident, especially as the rumbling continued.

“Erm, Mom…” I said slowly, “I think I need the toilet.”

“Well, you’ll have to wait.” Mom said, “Or use your pull-up. It’s what it’s there for.”

“Mom!” I gasped as I looked around. It was clear the people nearest us had heard her. If I hadn’t been so distracted I would’ve curled up into a ball from shame. I continued in a much quieter voice, “It’s… not pee…”

“Then you should be fine waiting.” Mom said without missing a beat, “We’ll be out of here soon.”

I let out a whimper not too dissimilar to a puppy waiting at the door to be let out into the garden. The cramps started coming not long after that, pains that felt like knives in my lower belly making me twist and turn in an attempt to relieve some of the discomfort. The queue moved again, and I stepped forwards. It felt like progress but when I saw there was still three people ahead of us my heart sank.

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