Well, it would seem by the number of reads in such a short time, and by the positive responses, that writing this story was a pretty good idea!
I would like to say thank you to all of the readers and to those of you that commented, I was very unsure about how this story would be received and I’m glad that it went over well.
I’m particularly proud of the writing work that I’ve done in this chapter. The descriptions in this part were something like serendipity this time around. Usually I will be in agony trying to find clever and or concise ways to illustrate an action or event, but this time I had the idea for what I wanted and it seemed to flow together with relative ease. I hope that it pleases the rest of you as well.
Before I stop yammering, I would like to say that I have some very ambitious plans for this story and how I want it to play out. I am really excited to see what the responses will be and I hope that they turn out to be good. As always, if you see writing issues bring them to my attention, and enjoy!
Dawn Of The Diapered: An Invasion Of The Adulthood Snatchers Story
By: Dementia’s Knight
Part I: A Life Less Frightening
Chapter II: Odd Behavior
Carl woke up to a considerable decrease in the weight on his torso where the girl had perched herself. He sat up slowly feeling his head scream at him and try to pull him back down to the ground by seemingly altering it’s mass.
“What happened?” he wondered to himself as he scanned his surroundings.
As if on cue, the memory of the attack came rushing to his aching head. He frantically searched for signs of the young woman but found himself to be alone in the parking structure. Rising slowly to his weak and wabbling legs, Carl reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone, he sighed when he saw that he had fourteen missed calls and that nearly five hours had passed since the woman had attacked him.
Staggering weakly to his car, Carl scrolled down the contact list in his phone and stopped on his home number before hitting the SEND button.
Later that evening, after he’d gotten home and comforted the near frantic Tanya, Carl went to the police station to file a report. He patiently gave the officer the description of the woman that had assaulted him, and answered her numerous questions to the best of his recollection.
“Mr. Mitchell, do you know what possible reason this woman had for attacking you? Had you ever met her before?” the officer asked.
Carl shook his head. “None whatsoever, I’d never seen her before in my life.” he responded.
While he sat and answered the woman’s questions he felt a twinge in his bladder. The urge to urinate came on suddenly and stronger than any other he’d ever felt. For a second, Carl felt like he might immediately evacuate the contents of his bladder right as he felt the need to go.
“Excuse me, I’ll be right back.” Carl told the officer, interrupting the woman with his distressed tone.
Carl made haste to the restroom without waiting for the woman to respond, he reached the bathroom door and slammed his open palm into it while he leaned the full weight of his body into it. The door flung open, and Carl hustled over to the urinals. Without realizing it, Carl had gripped his hand to his crotch somewhere between the officer and the bathroom door. He approached the porcelain basin that hung in front of him. The restroom filled with the pleasured sighs of Carl Mitchell as he stood in front of the urinal and alleviated the strain on his bladder.
An officer walked in shortly after Carl had begun peeing, and stifled a laugh when he saw a man standing at the urinal with his pants and underwear around his ankles, and his shirt lifted up to his neck, pinned to his chest by his chin.
Carl for his part found nothing wrong with his behavior. In truth he felt a swell of pride that he’d made it to the restroom in time to avoid an embarrassing accident. As his steady stream became a few errant spurts, and then finally subsided to a few random drips, Carl let his shirt fall back down and bent down to hoist his pants and underwear back to their original place. Once he’d washed his hands, he headed back out the officer he’d left, a satisfied smile spreading across his face as he walked.
Tanya sat on the couch under her quilt waiting for Carl to get home from the police station. She worried about him, she couldn’t help but think the worst possible things in the world had happened to him when he didn’t come home from work, and didn’t call or answer his phone. Relief had washed over her when he finally did call, but when he got home he’d seemed different somehow, out of touch with what was going on.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the garage door opening, and her husband’s car pulling in. She sprang up from the couch and shuffled quickly to the door to meet Carl when he walked in. When she saw him, she got even more worried though.
Carl sauntered in unsteadily, as if he’d been drinking and was struggling with his equilibrium. Parts of his shirt were tucked into his pants haphazardly, and looked as though he’d very sloppily tried to tuck the garment in. When Tanya’s eyes panned downward she saw a silver dollar sized dark patch on the crotch of his pants, somewhere in her mind she knew immediately what it was, but she chose to ignore it.
“Hi.” Carl said simply as he approached his wife, leaning in to kiss her on the cheek before passing by her and entering the house.
Tanya watched him as he went in and slumped down onto the couch. She hadn’t smelled booze on his breath when he’d gotten close to her, but he was displaying a lot of signs that he’d been drinking. Ever the good and attentive wife, she opted to ignore these signs and avoid any argument that might stem from asking about possible drinking.
“How’d it go?” she asked as she closed the door and went to take a seat next to him on the couch.
Carl shrugged his shoulders. “Fine I guess. They asked a lot of questions.” he told her.
Tanya was going to ask him something else when he suddenly got a startled look on his face, his eyes wide with alarm. Without an explanation he shot up from the couch and rushed off up the stairs. When he was out of sight Tanya sighed before she got up and turned off the light, and followed her husband upstairs.
Once again Carl was in the bathroom, he’d been assaulted by the same strong, sudden urge to urinate that had hit him while he was at the police station. Now he was once again standing in front of the toilet with his shirt pulled up and his lower half garments around his ankles. He was noticing that it was harder to hit his mark when the fixture he was aiming at was so much lower than the urinal had been. With seemingly no control over his stream, he was hitting most every part of the toilet besides the bowl. The seat by this point was drenched, and the floor behind the toilet base wasn’t fairing any better. He felt a pang of guilt as the last bit of urine trickled down onto his pants and underwear, he knew that despite making it to the bathroom in time, Tanya would be upset with him because of the mess he’d made.
In his attempt to clean up the mess he’d made, he pulled nearly half the roll of toilet paper out and with the wad he breezed over the saturated areas. Once the paper had become as wet as it could be, Carl was doing little more than smearing the yellow liquid around. Feeling better now that he’d cleaned up after himself Carl tossed the soaked wad into the toilet and flushed it away.
With a contented sigh Carl stepped out of his pants and underwear, leaving them in a heap on the bathroom floor, and made his way into the bedroom. He smiled when he saw Tanya laying in the bed waiting for him, and he quickly climbed in beside her, hugging her as he snuggled close to her.
Tanya wondered why her husband was acting so strange, why he hadn’t put any pajama’s on before climbing into bed, why he’d taken such a long time in the bathroom, and why the faint scent of urine seemed to follow him like a loving puppy would it’s master. Again, she decided it best not to make waves, and instead snuggled with him as he began to gently snore.
Tanya awoke the next morning very cold despite the blankets huddling atop her. She noticed immediately that the spot she was laying on was wet, lifting the blanket slowly she looked down and saw that a large portion of the sheet was soaked. She sighed heavily when she realized that in his drunken slumber Carl had wet the bed. She quickly rolled out of the bed and looked down at her nightgown. The flimsy material of the garment was nearly transparent from the waist down, and the smell of stale pee permeated it wholly.
“Carl, wake up!” she said angrily as she reached out and shook her snoring husband to jostle him awake.
Carl’s thumb fell from his mouth and his eyes fluttered open as he looked around in disorientation. “What?” he whiningly asked.
“You pissed the bed last night.” Tanya informed him. “Get up and clean the mess you made while I take a shower.” she ordered before stomping off to the bathroom to get clean.
Carl shoved the blankets off of him and looked at the saturated bedding below. He immediately felt shame and embarrassment as he looked at the mess he’d made. Tears began to form in his eyes, and a hard lump built in his throat, aching with every swallow as he tried to keep from bawling. His efforts were in vain however, and he was soon crying in earnest with his face in his hands as he thought about how badly he’d messed up.
“Mommy is very mad.” he thought to himself. “Wait, not mommy. Tanya.” his mind corrected. But he couldn’t be entirely sure if the correction was accurate, he sat in the soaked bed, his thoughts going back and forth on the matter as his body shivered from the cold. Try as he might, he couldn’t say one way or the other which of his thoughts had been right. The debate came to a head when a slow trickle of pee began to escape his body to join the remnants of the past wetting, and he called out for his mommy.
Tanya hadn’t heard any of Carl’s cries while she was in the shower, but when she emerged from the bathroom and saw him crying, she immediately went to him and consoled him.
Carl for his part made little to no sense as he cried into his wife’s towel covered bosom. His speech was slurred by the mix of tears and snot that were pouring from his face, and all he could do was clutch onto Tanya for dear life. After nearly a half hour of crying and hugging, Tanya finally got Carl to calm down enough so she could hear his apologies.
“It’s alright Carl, it’s just a wet bed, not the end of the world.” she told him, now feeling very guilty for yelling at him before her shower. “Go get a shower and I’ll take care of it.” she said as she rubbed his back.
Carl pulled away and nodded before he got out of the bed and shuffled to the bathroom.
As Tanya sat in the reeking bedroom she was in disbelief of what had just transpired. She’d never seen Carl get so emotional before, and she wasn’t entirely sure what to make of the event. With a sigh she got up and quickly got dressed before she went to work stripping the bed, hoping that if the soiled bedclothes were gone when Carl came out of the bathroom he’d be calmed down and back to normal.
To Be Continued…