Part 2

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“So, anything new on the rumor from State?” Vanessa asked, a hint of nervousness under her voice.

“Nothing,” Cassie shrugged, “some frat boy who used to go here thought he saw you, didn’t give a lot of details, admitted he was drunk when he did.”

“And he stopped talking about it?”

“V, it’s been three weeks. It’s over. Nothing to worry about.”

Vanessa exhaled. “Okay, thanks.”

“You okay, V?” Amber chimed in.

“I’m… I’m fine. Just been weird. Feels like someone’s trying to s-, sab-, ugh, what’s the word?”

“Sabotage you?” Cassie offered.

“Yeah… yeah, that’s it,” Vanessa nodded, rubbing her tired head.

“The wannabes are always trying to take down the queen!” Amber declared.

“I’ll look into it,” Cassie said softly, “and if we find anyone, we’ll get ‘em.”

“Okay, cool,” Vanessa sighed, “now, ummm, could you guys give me a bit of privacy? Sorry.”

The two other girls gave slight looks of confusion at the request, but away they went down the hallway. Vanessa, meanwhile, slid into the nearby bathroom, checked and double-checked that no one else was in it, and finally slid down her jean shorts to examine herself in the mirror.

Her pullup was wet. She couldn’t recall when she had used it, - during history class, during math class, while talking to her friends, or all of the above - but from the looks of it it was on the verge of leaking now. It was her third pair since morning, and the school day wasn’t even over.

The girl sighed. These things had been such a good failsafe early on. They spared her from embarrassment when she felt the urge to go come on suddenly during an important test, or when a small leak came out during a stressful moment. As her classes seemed to ratchet up in difficulty, and her paranoid sense that something was wrong grew, they gave her at least one thing she didn’t have to worry about.

Lately, though, she was having far more misses than makes, and the frequency and size of her accidents was clearly becoming too much for the thin garments. Trying to use the bathroom preemptively did little to help, as the girl was struggling to go on cue, and it seemed the pullups were always damp - at least - by the time she slid her pants down. A few had leaked already, and the fact that she was losing track of when she was wetting them in the first place was especially concerning.

Vanessa slipped into one of the stalls and changed herself into the last pullup in her backpack. She needed only to get through one more class and a short bus ride before she would be home, and the trainer proved to be enough for that duration… barely.

The girl knew what was coming when she sat down at the dinner table that evening. Her mother never had let up her bizarre behavior, pelting Vanessa with patronizing sweet-talk ever since the day of the college tour. More recently, she had bought a pack of thick diapers adorned with juvenile designs, and had begun insisting repeatedly that the girl wear them, ‘just in case’. And now, Vanessa was running out of pullups and excuses.

“Fine, mom. Fine,” she finally acquiesced, “I’ll try them.”

Try them Vanessa did, powdering and padding herself before she went to bed. And when she woke up soaked and sagging - no dream required - she knew it was time for their daytime debut.

The girl changed out of her nighttime clothes and put on a fresh diaper before turning to her wardrobe to find something that would suit it. Shorts seemed to make it completely obvious, and jeans didn’t fit at all. To make matters worse, all of her longer skirts and dresses were in the wash or at the dry cleaners, victims of leaking pullups, leaving the girl with limited options.

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