From College to Crib

Chapter Description: Disaster strikes at the DMV.

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Sweat started prickling my skin and I felt exceptionally warm. I was trapped in place, surrounded on all sides and had no way to escape. I was panicking as I looked around desperately for an answer that I knew wasn’t there. I don’t know if Mom sensed my discomfort, but she took hold of my hand, I got the feeling the feeling it was less about helping me emotionally and more about making sure I didn’t run off like an unruly toddler.

The cramps were getting worse, and I was having to focus everything I could on resisting what they wanted. I didn’t pay any attention to how I must’ve looked to other people as I became increasingly fidgety. All my attention was on my bowels which felt like they were about to explode. With a gasp I felt my clenched sphincter slip for just a second, I froze but other than some gas nothing more happened. It actually relieved the pressure a little bit.

I was letting out a small smile as I looked down at my belly when I felt a sudden yank on my arm. The queue moved without me noticing and I was pulled forward stumbling into Mom who looked at me with pursed lips. I barely paid any attention to her because I was experiencing a horrible nightmare.

As soon as I stumbled forwards my attention on my bowels went away for just a second. It was all the time they needed. Immediately a sticky warmth had deposited in the back of the pull-up causing the thin padding to bulge slightly. My mouth hung open. This was really happening. My body used this as an excuse to give up the fight.

I closed my eyes and cringed as my belly muscles pushed down. It was happening without my conscious effort. My body had simply reached its limit and now it seemed to want to take revenge on me for making it so uncomfortable. I moved my legs slightly further apart as horror washed over me like a bucket of ice-cold water.

After waiting so long for release my bowels weren’t hanging around. Poop surged out of me in a semi-solid sludge to fill the back of the pull-up. I could feel the sticky substance against my skin acting like a paste holding the pull-up against me to make it as uncomfortable as possible. At the same time the area between my legs sagged from the weight I was depositing into it.

I let out a soft grunt as my body demanded my unconditional surrender. It just kept coming and there was seemingly nothing I could do to stop it. I bent my knees slightly to make it easier to push it all out. The smell was already leaking out even as I continued to fill my pants. It didn’t seem anyone else had noticed yet, but it was surely only a matter of time. By the time I was finished the pull-up felt like a heavy weight. It was the grossest thing in the world.

“M-Mom…” I said breathlessly as my bottom lip trembled.

“We’re nearly at the desk. Just hold on.” Mom said dismissively. She clearly hadn’t realised the disgrace I’d brought on to myself.

“But… But…” I stuttered. My brain wasn’t working. All it could thing about was what had happened in my underwear.

“What’s that smell?” Someone nearby asked.

“Ugh, great, one of the babies must’ve crapped their pants…” Someone else replied.

“No, the kids are all over there, the smell is too strong for them…” A third person added.

I just wanted the ground to open up and swallow me whole. Surely it was only a matter of time before the real culprit was discovered. I felt so disgusting and the fact that I was the centre of the smell inconveniencing everyone else like the epicentre of an earthquake just made me feel worse. I was fairly certain this was my lowest point. Nothing could ever be worse than this.

“Oh, for goodness’ sake, Alice!” Mom exclaimed, “You really couldn’t wait until we were done? Is your potty control that bad? You’re supposed to be a grown woman!”

There it was. The floor of my rock bottom giving way to show me that things could always get worse. There was no way the people around us didn’t hear Mom, she certainly made no effort to keep her voice down. I ducked my head in shame as my eyes filled with tears. I could feel the eyes of everyone swivelling to look at me.

“Next!” The person at the counter called out.

The line moved forwards and as I took a step, I felt the lumpy mess in my pull-up slipping against me. It was the worst feeling in the world and I wanted nothing more than to get out of the queue and run away. I just wanted to hide where no one could see or hear me. Where no one knew what an embarrassment I was.

“M-Mom…” I choked out between sobs.

“We’re not leaving.” Mom cut me off. She seemed to have no care for the people around us who were far from happy about staying in the stuffy, poorly ventilated room, with the poopy girl.

“But Mom…” I started.

“I’m not coming back here and queueing again.” Mom shook her head, “Besides, knowing you, this would just happen again.”

I hated the way Mom made it sound like this was a regular occurrence. Whilst I practically whispered to her, she spoke at a normal volume, easily overheard by everyone else. I wanted to argue back about how all of this was unfair and that I deserved to be treated better, but it was hard to really convince even myself of that right then.

I sobbed quietly. It was soon obvious that most of the general sound of conversation had disappeared. The room was almost silent except for the people helping customers. I kept my head ducked as the people around us shuffled away and covered their noses.

Finally, the people in front of us left and Mom stepped forwards to the window. With each step I could feel the not insignificant load in my pull-up shifting and slipping against my skin, the feeling was somehow worse than the smell. I just wanted to rip the damn thing off. The woman behind the window clearly knew, as everyone else did, who the source of the smell was. I tried to pull away from Mom to run outside but she kept a firm hold of my hand.

“Hello, I’m here to renew my license.” Mom said as if nothing was wrong.

The next few minutes were excruciating as Mom went through the forms required. We were stood at the window, and I could practically feel the collective disgust the people in all the queues behind us had for me. When I dared to quickly glance behind me, I saw many sets of eyes staring right back. I felt like there was a spotlight on me. No matter how much I wanted all of this to be done so we could just leave as soon as possible the DMV employee seemed just as distracted by me as everyone else and kept making mistakes. My patience was razor thin and I felt like I was close to snapping.

“Alright, that’s processing for you. Expect something in the post in three to five business days.” The employee said to Mom though she kept glancing to me.

“Thank you.” Mom said. She started pulling me away when the cashier spoke up again.

“Erm, excuse me, ma’am.” The employee said, “We have a private bathroom for employees we could escort you to if you need help with your daughter.”

“No, it’s quite alright.” Mom replied. I felt her hand squeezing mine a lot harder, “It’s best she learns her lesson, so she doesn’t do this again.”

I whined. The idea of a bathroom where I could clean myself up sounded heavenly, but Mom was pulling me along the front of all the queues back towards the entrance. I felt like I needed to apologise to everyone. My lack of control had inconvenienced all these people, my inability to be an adult had offended them.

The fresh air was blessed relief. I didn’t quite realise how much I had befouled my surroundings in the building until I was hit in the face with fresh air carried on the breeze. I didn’t get to enjoy it for long. Mom was striding back to her car taking long steps that made me practically have to jog to keep up with.

“Get in.” Mom instructed as she opened the rear passenger side door. It seemed even in the small car Mom wanted as much distance from me as possible.

I stepped in but was hesitant to sit down. Instead, I planted my feet on the floor and pressed my back against the seat to leave me hovering just above the seat. Mom didn’t seem inclined to argue for once as she simply reached in and fastened my seatbelt for me. The door slammed closed, and I let out a shuddering breath. I would never be able to show my face in public again, I’d pretty much accepted that now.

“I can’t believe you.” Mom said crossly as she got into the driver’s seat and closed the door. She wasted no time in lowering the windows.

I looked down between my legs. I could feel the pull-up pulling down heavily, gravity turning my full pants into an anchor. I had been surprised Mom hadn’t shouted at me in the DMV, I guess even she had limits as to how much she wanted to humiliate me. The engine turned on and I felt the seat against my back vibrate. Mom backed out of the parking spot and started to drive home whilst I continued to desperately try to pin myself against the seat.

I almost made it. Almost. We were turned on to a residential road just a couple of blocks from home and I wasn’t paying attention. We hit a speed bump, and I think Mom was going faster than usual, whatever the case it was enough for me to slip. My body dropped a couple of inches, and I felt the bottom of the pull-up touch the seat. The poopy mess brushed against my skin warningly.

Before I could get my bearings Mom took another speed bump so fast that I felt like without the seatbelt I’d have been catapulted. With the seatbelt however it just made me sink further. I could feel the contents of my pull-up oozing and spreading as I slipped down into it. I closed my eyes tightly and knew another bump was coming.

When we hit it, I groaned. I slipped down even further until I was just a small distance from the seat. I could feel my waste getting compressed even more as it spread up towards my lower back and down towards my front. I opened my tear-filled eyes and saw Mom looking in the rear-view mirror. I suddenly felt a flash of anger. It felt like she was doing this on purpose. Well, if she wanted me to be messy then I could do that for her.

I lifted myself up off the seat and then allowed myself to drop down. I landed with a splat that seemed to cover my whole pull-up. I lifted myself up and did it again. In my head, despite the discomfort, I was laughing at Mom. It felt like I was getting one over on her, like I was spoiling her game. She had embarrassed me and now I was going to make everything has tough as possible to clean up. Maybe she would learn her lesson and start treating me with more respect…

“Having fun back there?” Mom asked as we neared our house.

I stopped what I was doing as I looked into her sharp eyes. Suddenly the childish defiance that had prompted such an infantile resistance faded away to be replaced with more shame. Mom didn’t see any of my retaliation. She just saw a girl who had pooped her pants bouncing up and down on it.

“No.” I replied sheepishly.

Mom snorted with derision and I sank into the messy pull-up one more time. It felt like literally everything I did backfired, there was no way to defeat Mom, she was always a step ahead. It had been the same for my entire childhood. I certainly wasn’t doing a lot to help myself against the “immature” allegations.

The car parked up and Mom closed the windows before stepping out. I was moving slower and had just unclipped the seatbelt when the door next to me opened. For a second, I thought Mom was going to yank me out and throw me to the floor, but she simply stood aside and waited for me to get out. As I did so I felt the pull-up sticking to my skin, it was so gross, and I wanted to reach down to peel it away from me but Mom was already leading me towards the front door.

“Go straight up to the bathroom and wait for me.” Mom instructed as she put the key in the lock.

“I can clean myself…” I argued weakly.

“You will do as you’re told.” Mom responded as the door swung open, “I can’t believe you would poop yourself like that just because you didn’t get your own way.”

“I did not!” I argued back, scandalised at the suggestion that I would crap my pants on purpose.

“So, I just imagined you bouncing up and down in your filth, did I?” Mom asked as the front door was closed.

“That… That was different.” I said quietly. It was an act of defiance against my tyrannical mother. Though in hindsight it felt incredibly stupid. Of course, Mom didn’t see the subversion in my actions.

“Get upstairs before I tan your bottom.” Mom said sharply.

I knew it wasn’t an empty threat and this wasn’t an argument I had any chance of winning. With my head bowed low I turned and started trooping up the stairs. At least I would get out of this disgusting pull-up soon, I’d already been humiliated more than anyone on Earth I didn’t think a little more would hurt.

The first thing I did when I reached the bathroom was to open the window. Then I waited. I had assumed Mom would be following me right up, but it seemed she had other priorities. It was so stupid. If anyone else had an accident like I had they wouldn’t hesitate to clean themselves off and move on with their lives. Not me though. No, I had to wait for my Mom to come and “help” me. My burgeoning independence at college felt a million miles away right then. Eventually Mom did come upstairs. I was more than ready to get out of the soiled clothes and wasn’t too concerned about being embarrassed, nothing could be worse than what came before.

“Lift your arms.” Mom instructed.

I did as I was told and Mom pulled my shirt over my head. She reached around my back to unclasp my bra, and I quickly put my hands up over my breast. She rolled her eyes.

“They’re nothing I haven’t seen before.” Mom said with a tired sigh.

“That’s not the point!” I argued.

“Do you want help or not?” Mom asked.

My initial reaction was to say that I didn’t want her help at all. But when I thought about it for a couple of seconds, I realised that I really didn’t want to deal with the disaster zone that was my pull-up. I slowly lowered my hands as Mom unhooked the bra and I let it fall down my arms. I still covered my bare chest. It was an instinctual reaction.

Mom continued undressing me without any help on my part until I was down to just the pull-up. I looked down and quickly wished I hadn’t. The previously white disposable underwear now had large blotches of discolouration. Despite my desperate desire to be rid of the messy pants Mom left them on me for now. Instead, she reached over and turned on the shower letting the water warm up.

“I don’t want you to make a mess.” Mom said seriously, “So step inside the shower and take your pull-up off. You can then step into the water.”

I gingerly stepped into the shower feeling so close to my goal of getting clean but facing the worst part of my ordeal first. I hooked thumbs underneath the stretchy sides of the pull-up and then lowered them down. The smell grew so bad I thought I might throw up. I tried to avoid looking down at the result of my massive accident and instead stepped out of it and straight into the water.

“When you come out of that I want you to put another pull-up on until I get back.” Mom said as she failed to conceal her disgust at having to fish out my used pull-up.

I watched Mom leave the bathroom with nervousness. Where was Mom going? Why was she implying I would need a pull-up only until she got back? I didn’t have time to ask as she had already left the room. My main priority was getting cleaned up anyway. I turned around and let the water hit my back, it started to run down to my ass washing away the poop that had stuck to me. Slowly but surely, I was getting clean again. I closed my eyes and enjoyed having the horribly sticky feeling gradually leave my skin.

The water swirling around my feet was streaked with brown and I continued showering until it eventually ran clear. I still didn’t feel clean, I wasn’t sure I ever would again. Tentatively, I moved my hand behind me and gingerly touched my butt, there was no sign of any foulness.

I stayed in the shower another few minutes. With the poopy pull-up gone I could almost forget what had happened. I never wanted to show my face in public again, but the shower felt like it had a renewing effect on me, allowing time to breathe and start to move past what had been the most humiliating moment of my life.

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