Monserrat looked at the bright orange cylinder in her hand and skeptically up at her track coach. “Coach – Airborne, really?” Marge had stopped her on her way to the locker room, where Monserrat was excited to trade her school athleticwear for less-sweaty athleticwear. Getting out of the lurid school color scheme of pink and blue was almost as much a draw as the switch to something clean. She had nothing against the colors on a flag or logo, but they always looked washed out next to her dark skin.
“There’s a nasty bug going around, and I mean nasty.” Marge’s pale skin looked fine in school colors. She was dressed, as always, in her tracksuit and windbreaker. As far as Monserrat was concerned, she’d been born that way, right down to her ultra-butch buzz cut. “You’re our best thrower, I don’t want you missing a meet.”
“The nearest meet isn’t for a couple of weeks…” Monserrat raised her brows. “What’s this disease, hantavirus?”
“I haven’t heard a name on it yet, but it’s some school Pietri dish nonsense turned up to eleven.” Marge shrugged. “Takes days to get over and leaves you wrung out afterward. Just take the damn vitamins.”
Monserrat rolled her eyes. “My wife is going to make fun of me, you know. This stuff has no science backing it up.”
“Then take it for the placebo!” Marge snorted. “I know you already don’t get enough sleep.”
“Eh, five hours a night is fine for now.” Monserrat shrugged. “It’s not like it’s affecting my performance – you said yourself I’m the team’s best.”
“Or maybe you’d be Olympic caliber if you took care of your body. What’s so pressing that you can’t spare three extra hours for sleep?”
“Work, classes, and this thing in the afternoons where I throw a bunch of stuff at the grass. I could cut the last one out I guess.” Monserrat chuckled at Marge’s frown. “Come on Coach, you know I wouldn’t drop the team.”
“Don’t even tease about that. Congrats on the wedding, by the way. Does your wife play any sports?”
Monserrat chuckled, as she tried to imagine Jenna in a sports uniform and came up blank. “Not even video game ones. She’s a big math genius.”
“Hmm, sounds impressive, I’ll allow it.” Marge slapped Monserrat on the arm. “Hit the locker room, I’ve kept you long enough.”
The locker room’s usual murmur of conversation had a concerning amount of coughing sprinkled throughout. Rolling her eyes at herself as much as her coach, Monserrat popped the plastic canister open and downed a couple of the discs inside. They were awful, aggressively orange flavored with a strong metallic aftertaste. Obligation to her coach satisfied, Monserrat shed her sweaty clothes for black leggings and a red lycra top.
I should pick up some flu supplies in case Jenna – or any of my customers come down with something. She hurried out of the gym, eyes on her phone rather than the path in front of her. An athlete’s spatial awareness was all that saved her from crashing into a blonde student hunched over in the brick path.
Before Monserrat could apologize, the girl in front of her was offering a torrent of apologies. “I’m sorry, I’ll get out of your way! Just let me um…” To Monserrat’s surprise, the girl’s posture was instantly recognizable, a half-squat that was not enough to hide the sheer size of the potty accident darkening her jeans’ thighs and rear. The poor thing didn’t even have a sweater or hoodie to hide her shame, what with her summery white crop-top.
As much on autopilot as she had been walking, Monserrat stowed her phone with its message to Jenna unsent and put a gentle hand on the girl’s arm. “Hon, let me help you. There’s a bathroom right around the corner.”
The girl shot a nervous glance to where Monserrat indicated, clearly relieved to see that it was away from the press of students. She nodded, eyes shining with suppressed tears, and scurried after Monserrat with her legs pressed together. Once they were safely behind a locked bathroom door, Monserrat guided the girl to the potty.
“Give me your backpack.” Monserat took the pack from the blonde girl gently, smiling kindly when she saw her fumbling with her jeans. The poor thing was on the edge of panic and her shaking hands were no match for a tight zipper.
“Let me help.” Monserrat gave the girl an encouraging pat on the arm. “I’m Monserrat, by the way.”
“S-Sue.” Sue tugged at her jeans one more time, yelping as her fingernail broke. “I-i-i- okay.”
It took Monserrat only a moment to peel the girl’s wet jeans and panties down. Reflexively, she helped Sue down onto the toilet seat, eliciting another blush, but no more protests. It seemed better not to comment, instead Monserrat took the girl’s wet clothes to the sink for a good rinsing.
“Th-thank you.” Sue’s quavering voice managed to cover the light tinkling in the potty. “I don’t know why this keeps happening!”
“You’ve been having this problem more than today?” Monserrat kept her tone neutral, already assessing what supplies she had with her.
“It’s embarrassing.” Sue whimpered. She fell silent until Monserrat heard another splash in the toilet. A confession burst out of Sue in a transparently obvious scramble to hide the sounds she was making. “Every week at least – sometimes more – it’s hard to hold it all day but I don’t like peeing in public bathrooms.”
Monserrat wrung out Sue’s flower-print panties and set them aside. They were a lower priority for drying than the girl’s jeans – and anyway it seemed like Sue needed something more protective than panties at the moment.
“I have some experience with this sort of problem. I’ll get you all fixed up before we leave the bathroom, okay?”
Monserrat’s preference was to do as little drying with the loud hand dryer as possible, but Sue’s jeans were soaked halfway down the thighs. Everything above the knee needed a good rinse to keep them from smelling. She did her best to be quick about the rinse, Sue looked miserable sitting on the toilet in nothing but her crop top. With the application of a hair scarf, Monserrat hung Sue’s jeans from the hand dryer and set it running.
“Let me clean you up, okay Sue?” Monserrat was worried at first that the girl couldn’t hear her over the dryer’s racket, but the delay turned out to be down to Sue’s hesitancy.
Sue blushed and shook her head at the wet wipes in Monserrat’s hands. “I can do it.”
“It’s going to be awkward to reach everywhere you got wet – are you sure?” Monserrat tried her friendliest smile. “It’ll feel good to be really clean before you go back outside.”
“I uh – okay fine.” Sue stood up, scrunching her eyes like a kid afraid of getting a shot. She responded to a light tug on her arm by stumbling away from the toilet – Monserrat had her next to the adult-sized changing table before the girl realized it.
“Hop up here. It’ll be easier, trust me.” Monserrat patted the table, making sure to hold a straight face in the face of Sue’s blush and horrified stare. She was pushing things pretty far, Monserrat knew, but Sue had been remarkably passive. I’m pretty sure that means she’s desperate to be taken care of. This’ll be the moment of truth.
Sue’s eyes darted between the changing table, the extremely unappetizing alternative of the bathroom’s tiled floor, and up to Monserrat’s towering figure. There was an inflection point in Sue’s expression where her defiance vanished and she climbed shame-facedly onto the changing table. They both knew she could have demanded that Monserrat help her while she was standing – or more reasonably asked again to do it herself. Instead, she was on a changing table with her hands pressed to her face.
I know what to do with a Little girl in this position for sure. Monserrat chuckled internally. Giving Sue a thorough wipe-down without being handsy got the Little girl comfortable enough that she stopped covering her face, though her eyes were still firmly closed. She was pliable throughout, lying still when Monserrat stepped away to reset the hand dryer – so much so that she lifted her hips without protest for Monserrat to slip a diaper under her. Whatever she thought of the soft padding her rear at first, the jig was up when Monserrat dabbed on a bit of baby powder and pulled the diaper up over Sue’s crotch.
“What are you – that’s a diaper!” Sue’s eyes snapped wide open in accusation and shock.
“It’s a small one, should fit under your jeans once they’re dry.” Monserrat set the diaper’s tapes, in the absence of a physical protest from Sue.
“Why do you have wipes and diapers in your bag?”
That’s what she focuses on? Instead of asking – or demanding – to be let out of the diaper? Interesting. Monserrat patted Sue’s belly and sat the Little girl up on the changing table. The extra height merely put them eye to eye, something clearly not lost on Sue, as the girl blushed yet again.
“Because I take care of Little girls who have accidents sometimes.” Monserrat slipped a business card out of her phone case and handed it to Sue.
“Adult Babysitter – I don’t need a babysitter – or diapers – or…” Sue frowned. “Also, I didn’t agree to pay you anything.”
“This one’s pro-bono. So’s the next one at least, if you need it.” Monserrat let the indulgent smile she’d been feeling for a while show on her face. “You’ve been having regular trouble making it to the potty, and I’m happy to help.”
“I’m not a kid!” Sue’s tone was outraged – but her fingers were firmly holding on to the business card.
“You don’t have to be young to be Little, or to need someone to take care of you now and then.” Monserrat stepped away to start the hand dryer for what she hoped was the last time. “I’m married to a girl who loves being taken care of – including wearing diapers sometimes.”
“This is too weird.” The tears that had been behind Sue’s watery eyes since Monserrat bumped into her finally came out in a big sob. Monserrat stepped in for a hug and was glad she had with the way that Sue leaned into her.
“It’s going to be okay, Sue.” Monserrat patted the Little girl’s back. “I can help you getting set up with diapers, or potty training, whichever you need.”
“I’m potty trained!” Sue’s voice rang out in the sudden silence of the hand dryer finishing its cycle. She flinched and pressed her face into Monserrat’s chest.
“If it’s not wanting to use a bathroom that’s the problem, then diapers or pullups are a good solution.”
“No they aren’t! How is that not totally crazy?”
“Pullups are really just a step up from period panties. I’m surprised you weren’t already wearing those with your – issue.”
“I…” Sue pressed her face into Monserrat’s chest, either heedless of how familiar she was being or too embarrassed to help herself. “I was – all the pairs I have are in the laundry.”
“Then I’ll pack a couple of pullups in your backpack, just to get you through laundry day, of course.” Monserrat grinned. “Do you want ones with kittens on them, or clouds and stars?”
Sue pried her face away from Monserrat’s chest to glare at the tall woman. “You’re making fun of me.”
“I’m not. I put my wife in much cuter – and thicker – diapers every night.”
Sue pouted, her eyes darting everywhere in the bathroom but where Monserrat was. Finally, she grudgingly whispered, “Kittens.”
“Good choice.” Monserrat kissed the top of Sue’s head before releasing her to retrieve the Little girl’s jeans. “Let’s see if we can get these to fit properly. Lie back down.”
“I’m not going to hire you as a babysitter.” Sue protested, even as she obediently lay down.
“I didn’t ask you to. Feet up!”
Still damp and dryer-stiff at the same time, Sue’s jeans couldn’t have been in a worse state for their tight fit, even without a diaper to contend with. The Little girl was surprisingly game to squirm her way into the denim, eventually getting them completely over her padded rear. By that point, she was well pliable to Monserrat’s commands. It was simplicity itself to stand her up and put her backpack on her while Monserrat tidied up the bathroom.
“You’ve got a bus pass in here,” Monserrat said, as she tucked a trio of kitten-print pullups in Sue’s bag. “Do you want a ride home?”
“Oh, you don’t have to…”
“I know hon, but if you’re embarrassed about that diaper I figured you might not want to wait for the bus.”
“Oh – okay.” Sue nodded eagerly.
Sue was such an obedient Little on the way to the parking lot that Monserrat was tempted to take the girl’s hand. That she didn’t was more up to the possibility of campus rumors about a new girlfriend than any fear of breaking the Little spell Sue was under. Sue didn’t need to be roped into gossip about one of the campus’s more notorious polyamorous lesbians on top of an already rough day. As it was, the spell lasted up until Monserrat opened the back door of her SUV for the girl.
Sue had one foot in the vehicle before she turned indignantly on Monserrat. “You’re putting me in the back like a kid? Why can’t I ride shotgun?”
Monserrat laughed heartily, happy to see a smile crack on Sue’s face in response. “Just checking where your mindset is. Hop up front if you want.”
“You’re not my babysitter,” Sue said, as she buckled her seatbelt in response to Monserrat’s reminder.
“So you said earlier. I have one stop to make on the way. If you’re a good girl we’ll not only get in and out of the store quickly, but I’ll buy you a lollypop.”
“I don’t need a – a – that’s embarrassing!”
“Only if you care about what people think – and honestly anyone who even notices will probably just be jealous that they don’t have one.” Monserrat pulled her big white box of a vehicle out of the parking lot.
Sue sat in petulant silence for a bit before quietly saying, “Only if they have grape flavor.” Monserrat let the comment stand and simply enjoyed the extent to which Sue had unwittingly jumped into being Little.
The grocery store had everything Monserrat needed, soup base, Pedialyte, and lots of tissues. They also had grape flavored lollypops – Sue surprised them both by unwrapping one as soon as Monserrat handed it to her. She was adorable, bashfully sucking on the candy in the checkout line while Monserrat passed over the wrapper for the clerk to scan.
Sue watched curiously Monserrat packed the supplies into the back of her SUV, asking, “Is your wife sick?”
“There’s supposed to be something nasty going around – I’m making sure I’m prepared.”
“You’re really sweet.” Sue shuffled her feet. “You really diaper your wife? And other people – grown ups – that you babysit?”
“Absolutely.” Monserrat flipped Sue’s messy ponytail over her shoulder and adjusted the Little girl’s jeans to hide the bit of diaper that had been creeping out.
“You’re good at it – like a good mom.” Sue squirmed. “I’d – let you babysit me if there was nobody but one of your other um, Littles around.”
“Then I’ll be your babysitter until we get to your place.” Monserrat held the back door open for Sue – the Little girl hopped in with a blush.
“I’m surprised you don’t have a car seat.” Sue teased, as Monserrat got the car moving.
“I do, for my really Little clients. I don’t think you’re quite there yet.” Monserrat had the pleasure of watching Sue’s bashfully excited squirms in the rear view mirror the rest of the way to the girl’s apartment after that comment. She sent Sue off with an admonishment to make sure to do her homework and go to bed on time, to which the Little girl giggled and scampered inside.
Checking her phone revealed that she was way behind on errands and tasks for her afternoon. Despite that, Monserrat found herself refreshed as she pulled away from Sue’s apartment. What stress remained was easily handled by shuffling things around and shooting off some texts. More than anything, Sue’s comment about being a good mom stuck with Monserrat as a blossom of warmth in her chest.
~~~*~~~
Bolstering her high from earlier, it was a delight as well as a surprise for Monserrat to find Jenna as her Jenny self – and in a damp diaper to boot. She scooped her Little wife up for a big kiss, squeezing the darling Little in her arms until their lips were parted by Jenny’s squeak. Monserrat nuzzled Jenny’s nose and patted her crinkly butt.
“This is unexpected.”
“Wachel is babysitting me in the afternoons now – I told her she could.” Jenny bit her lip uncertainly. “Is that okay?”
“Of course it is, but it makes me wonder if you’re going full-time Little.” Monserrat tried to catch Jenny’s gaze, but the Little girl squirmed nervously out of her arms.
With her eyes fixed on the floor, Jenny shook her head. “No – I’m still a big girl in the evenings. I was thinking about not wearing any diapers or pullups to school some days – or most days.”
“That’s fine. I like checking on you at school, but that doesn’t have to involve checking your pants.” Monserrat was glad to see an immediate smile from Jenny.
“How come you’re home early? I thought you had stuff this afternoon.”
“I did, but then I ran into a Little girl who needed rescuing and had to rearrange my day. Homework got bumped to now, meeting with my engineering prof is after dinner.”
“Was it Flora again? I should message her.”
“Somebody new, actually. Her name is Sue. I think you’d like her too. She’s a lot like how you were when you had just started being Little.”
“Oh.” Jenny considered that without any outward signs of jealousy, to Monserrat’s relief. “Do you think Sue would like to play sometime? Maybe with me and Flora?”
“It’s possible, but I didn’t get her number, I left her mine. If she contacts me, I’ll ask.” Monserrat plopped down on Jenny’s bed and pried her calculus text out of her backpack. “If you want I can try to coordinate a playdate with Flora and Skye. Or Flora and Brooke.”
“Brooke doesn’t want to play like that, I’m pretty sure.” Jenny shrugged sadly. “Skye would be good, as long as Flora is around.”
“You don’t like Skye on her own?” Monserrat’s phone chimed, she had it in her hand and swiped open without thinking.
“I don’t know her well enough yet.” Jenny fidgeted. “Anyway, I need to get back to my maths, you’re doing homework too, right?”
Monserrat nodded absently, knowing Jenny had already been interrupted for longer than she liked and would be desperate to get back to her work. The message she’d gotten was enough to arrest her full attention anyway.
[Clarissa] Hey Monchi, quick Q. I know you don’t like to keep secrets from your p-cule, but Brooke asked me to tell you something in confidence. Is that okay?
[Monserrat] This is mysterious. Go ahead.
[Clarissa] Brooke and I have done a couple of ABDL sessions – we’re hitting it off. Brooke doesn’t want me to say anything to Jenna, but I told her I kinda had to tell you since I’m in the p-cule now.
[Monserrat] You know that typing p-cule is more work than polycule with autocomplete, right?
[Clarissa] It’s not about effort, it’s 👏 about 👏 style 👏 Answer the damn question.
[Monserrat] You didn’t ask one. 😝 I’m happy for you. I’ll keep quiet about the two of you for now, but not forever, if that’s what you’re asking.
[Clarissa] Good enough. I don’t like sneaking either, but Brooke is big embarrassed. I figured you’d understand with how Jenna started out.
[Monserrat] Lots of Littles get their start that way. Just met a new one today. I understand.
[Clarissa] Client or girlfriend?
[Monserrat] Client – maybe not even that. Rescued her when she had an accident at school.
[Clarissa] Cute. Heh, never thought I’d say that about girls peeing their pants. This is your fault.
[Monserrat] I’ll take the blame. Have fun with Brooke. Are you going to tell Rachel and Niusha?
[Clarissa] Not right now if that’s okay. It’s more ABDL than dating right now between us.
[Monserrat] Okay. Love you, Lyssa.
[Clarissa] Love you, Monchi.
Monserrat shook her head at her phone. Looking up at Jenny, her heart freshly melted to see her Little girl scribbling away with all the seriousness of a mathematician at work – with a stuffed bat tucked under her arm. Brooke and Jenny are usually so close, I wonder what it is about ABDL that’s making Brooke skittish around Jenny. I’ll have to see if I can figure out a way to talk to Brooke about it before it becomes a bigger issue.
Calculus was too abstract to dive into with so many feelings bubbling up within her. Monserrat slipped out of the bedroom to fix a snack for Jenny while she let her thoughts settle. What was planned as a quick break went long when Niusha and Rachel pounced her for snuggles and a chance to chat. As much as she loved connecting with her girlfriends, having her homework looming in the background put a shadow over the afternoon. Priorities shifted again – Jenny got her snack, but the calculus book stayed closed.
As she rushed off to meet her professor that evening, Monserrat found herself asking for her first-ever extension on a homework assignment from the maths professor. Shooting off that email caused less of a guilty twinge than Monserrat had expected – which was in itself alarming. Top student had always been something that was at the core of her being. More and more, however, homework felt like a distraction from the real Monserrat – the Monserrat who took care of people, and saved the day for Littles.
That conflict was going to have to wait for another day, unfortunately. Monserrat already had an hour of sleep on the chopping block to keep from dropping any more balls. Four hours is fine for one night – that’s a full sleep cycle.