Initiation (chapter 22-23 up)

So I was firmly stuck in the middle of the latest chapter of Panda, and all of a sudden I was approached with a commissioned project. I tell you, there is something worthwhile in putting one thing down and picking something else up to get one’s creative juices flowing. Yeah, this is a big time humiliation bit, and it’s a pretty familiar trope, but I’d like to think that the concept and the way it’s presented will make it interesting for you. Enjoy!


It wasn’t quite terror I felt as I stood there, being examined by greedy-looking eyes and scowls and sneers, but it was close. Certainly the confidence that carried me into this room with head held high was long gone, and now, standing here in this lineup, I suddenly felt very self-conscious about my choice of outfit for the occasion. My tight skinny jeans were getting tighter as I perspired under the withering glares, and the denim shirt tied under my bra line felt far, far too revealing suddenly, though it bared only the same tight abs it always had before, the ones I was so proud of, the ones I’d done millions of sit-ups to earn.

“Let the auction begin!” shouted the tall, auburn-haired tyrant in the corner. In her hand was a gavel, and she stood before a white podium that appeared as though it had been swiped from a local church, complete with a cross emblazoned on the front. She slammed the wooden hammer down, making me and the rest of the girls lined up with me jump a bit, eliciting a few scattered squeaks and gasps. Those who had been examining us all grinned evilly, and a few of them laughed in derision at our collective nervousness. I counted off the gawkers as they took their seats facing the podium. Roughly fifteen of them, and only eight total here in the line. There was going to be a fight over who got who, for sure.

“First in line, step up to the block!” the redhead snapped. The girl with the jet black straight cut closest to the podium began to step forward, but was stopped cold. “Not you!” came the admonishment. “Other side!”

I cringed. There was only one girl between me and the tall, athletically-built woman who now crept toward the front, blushing bright red and visibly trembling. I would have actually felt pity on her were I not already preoccupied with how close that put me to the front of the line.

“Now here’s a fine-looking pack animal!” the redhead boomed. “Ready for some good heavy yard work, isn’t she?!” She glared expectantly at the girl.

“Yes, Ma’am,” the curly-haired blonde replied, her hands folded in front of her.

“What’s your name, slave?!” the auctioneer shouted.

“It’s… Josephine, Ma’am,” she replied.

“WRONG!” came the retort. “You don’t HAVE a name, unless your new mistress decides to GIVE you one, got it?!”

“I… I’m sorry,” she stuttered.

“You’re damned RIGHT you’re sorry!” the redhead screamed. I winced, though inside I was happy I’d have a couple of turns to observe and learn, to at least minimize the amount of verbal abuse I’d have to take during the process. As I watched the bidding go on, resigned to my impending fate, I silently began to scan the “audience”, looking for a compassionate eye, someone who might treat me gently. I’d heard the horror stories of what slaves were forced to endure, but Mom assured her before I left home that most of them were grossly exaggerated. Home seemed like such a long, long way from here at this moment.

The gavel dropped, snapping me out of my thoughts with a gasp. The big girl at the front was led away to great applause by the gallery of bidders, and the redhead demanded another come forward. The girl next to me, a chubby little thing named Lucy, stepped toward the podium with a shudder, but held her head up. Lucy and I had spoken briefly on the way in to the hall, sharing similar experiences both in the stories we’d heard and the reassurances we got from family, assurance I’m sure she viewed just as skeptically now as I did. The auctioneer was brutal in her assessment of the poor girl, describing her as a potential house wench, good for cleaning floors and doing laundry. Her bidding was, by contrast, relatively brief compared to the big girl at the end of the line; only two women had showed interest, and one dropped out fairly quickly, seemingly content to pursue other choices. Time flashed by, and soon Lucy was being led away by her new owner to another great round of applause. All eyes now fixed on me, and I started to step forward.

“GET BACK IN LINE!” the redhead screamed. I jumped backward, startled. “I didn’t tell you to move, slave!”

“I’m sorry, Ma’am,” I stuttered.

“I didn’t tell you to speak either!” she snapped back. I started to apologize again, almost automatically, but caught myself before I earned more berating.

“I’m really sorry, ladies,” the auctioneer spat derisively, “I had a feeling this little blondie was pretty stupid, but I didn’t know she’d be completely retarded!” Snickers from the gallery. “Maybe she’ll be useful as a hood ornament or something, if you can teach her to keep her mouth shut!” More laughter. “Get up here, idiot!” she hissed.

I wasted no time in complying with that order, my face beet red, suddenly feeling very, very self-conscious about my diminutive stature and hereditary good looks. After some back and forth between several women, a tall, very heavy-set woman with waist-length straight brown hair in an ornate, gothic-looking black dress stood up and announced, “Seventy five!” Even I went wide-eyed; it was more than double the current high bid, and nearly four times what Lucy went for.

The audience went silent, and it wasn’t a few seconds later that the gavel crashed down next to my ear. “SOLD!” yelled the redhead, and the goth girl’s face opened up into a wicked grin. My heart jumped up into my throat as my arm was seized and I was led up the staircase, trembling.

“Oh, don’t worry, little bimbo,” the girl who stood what had to be at least seven inches taller than me whispered, “I’ve no intention of getting those pretty little hands dirty with chores. There are bigger plans in store for you. But I promise you, if you don’t obey me, you’re going to be one miserable little creature. Understand?”

I swallowed breathlessly and squeaked, “Yes Ma’am.” Dread crept over me as it started to sink in; the stories weren’t as exaggerated as Mom made them out to be. The look on her face told me that this was going to be miserable whether I obeyed her or not…

Re: Initiation (Chapters 1-3 up)


It seemed like such an obvious choice when I was awarded the full cheerleading scholarship to West Virginia University, to sign up for the pledge rush for Alpha Tau Rho. Being a sorority girl not only assured me of nicer accommodations than the average incoming freshman, but freed up some of the auxiliary scholarship money I won locally for my GPA and some dorky community service junk I did. Having spending cash for extraneous expenses and the occasional party was nice. Not having to take on a part-time job just to have a life was very, very nice; I was excpecting to have my hands full as it was with cheerleading and my communications degree coursework. Mom had been a Alpha Tau at Berkley College when she attended, and the alumni groups had assured both of us that the longstanding tradition of the slave auctions during pledge rush were far more tame and well controlled than the rumors indicated. I was actually invited to the Alpha Tau house at Berkley during pledge rush in my senior year to see how mild the treatment really was. I was much more at ease when I saw the girls being subjected to little more than silly costumes and housework, with an occasional carrying around of a senior’s books.

When I left home in the shiny new Honda Civic my grandparents bought me as a graduation present, I was pretty well confident that someone with my looks and grades would breeze right through this little hick town school in the middle of coal country. The biggest worry I had as I made the long trek across Pennsylvania was the culture shock of relocating from the bustle of South Jersey to this seemingly desolate spot in the middle of nowhere. At least it’d be close enough to Pittsburgh to where I could do some occasional weekend shopping trips and late-night bar-hopping. Certainly these hayseeds wouldn’t be able to pick out a professionally made fake ID like the one I bought in Philly the weekend before I left, right?

Now, as the panic gripped me, I clutched desperately to those images of the girls in their silly maid costumes doing household chores, trying to convince myself that these were all just scare tactics, that I really didn’t need to worry, that the sorority girls would embrace me, and certainly I wouldn’t have anything worse in store than what I witnessed in Jersey.

We reached the top of the staircase and midway down a hall before the goth chick suddenly opened a door and pushed me roughly inside. She stepped in behind me and flipped the light on, closing the door behind her. I glanced quickly around the room, surprised at its spaciousness. A four-poster bed was the dominant visual item, directly to my left. The closet doors off to the right on the wall in front of me were louvered, and a tall six-drawer dresser buttressed them.

“Now then,” Goth girl spoke up, snapping my attention back toward her. “The rest of the house knows me as Shea, but from this moment onward, you will refer to me as ‘Miss Shea’, are we clear?”

“Yes Miss Shea.” I said, relieved that things were starting to sound a bit more normal.

“Very good,” she replied. “If you’re a good girl and do exactly as you’re told, you will make me very happy. If you disobey me or backtalk or even so much as question me,” she reached into a drawer in the tall chest and produced a vented wooden paddle, tossing it onto the bed, followed by a riding crop, which she tossed beside it, “then I will have to punish you. Understood?”

I recoiled a bit at the two objects laying on the bed. “Yes Miss Shea!” I said, much louder this time, the confidence once again evaporating.

“Good. Now strip!”

I was stunned. “But… I…”

“What did I just tell you?!” Shea growled, picking up the paddle.

Panicking, I untied my shirt and began to fumble with the buttons, my fingers trembling, trying to keep one eye on the hand containing the paddle. I could feel Shea’s eyes locked on me, as though she were just waiting for a misstep. I managed to get my shirt off, then struggled with my skinny jeans, nearly falling over as I pushed them down to my ankles and stumbled out of them. My hands dropped back to my sides as I stood before the imposing upperclassman, now clad only in my well-padded bra and thong.

“Come here,” she said calmly. I stepped forward. She grabbed my arm and snapped, “I told you to STRIP, didn’t I?!”

“I did, Miss Shea!” I cried, confused and terrified. All at once she turned me to the side, and the paddle crashed down on my bottom with a terrible smack. I yelped at the sting that shuddered through my backside, biting back tears.

“What do you think ‘strip’ means?”

“It means take my clothes off, Miss Shea!” I protested.

“So why are you still wearing clothes?”

I felt like a complete idiot. “I’m sorry, Miss Shea! I didn’t know you meant underwear too!” I could feel my face flush even deeper now as the ramifications soaked in. As quick as my shaking fingers allowed me, I fumbled my bra off and pulled my panties down, revealing my nearly non-existent breasts and hairless bikini area, freshly waxed just a couple days before I left home. I looked down and realized the crude pads I’d stuffed in behind the the 36C bra to give myself at least an appearance of a chest now lay on the floor beside it, mocking my vanity. Shea’s eyes followed mine, and she chuckled as she saw the damning evidence as well.

“That’s better,” said Shea, putting the paddle down on the bed. “Good girl.”

“Thank you, Miss Shea,” I whispered, my voice trembling as bad as my fingers were earlier.

“Turn around now and go stand in the corner.”

Terrified of what was coming, but equally afraid to disobey her again, I did as she asked, turning and facing the wall next to the bed, clenching my bottom in anticipation of more spanking. I heard the sounds of a drawer being opened and items being pulled out and tossed onto the bed. I heard Shea’s footsteps toward me and cringed. Then there was soft fabric across my eyes and nose followed by total darkness.

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Re: Initiation (Chapters 1-3 up)


“Wha…” I whimpered, even more confused as the blindfold was tied firmly behind my head. Thoughts raced through my mind, terrible thoughts, like being paraded around the house naked and blindfolded – or worse, left out in the commons like this! From what seemed like miles away, the gavel crashed again, signifying some other poor wretch being assigned to a mistress of her own.

“Hush now,” Shea scolded as she guided me to the edge of the bed, leaning me back and lifting my legs into a prone position, then rolling me over onto my stomach. “My, my, that’s a bright red bottom we have there. Miss Shea will make it all better now.”

I remained silent as I felt cool cream being spread over my buttocks, all the way from my waist down to the backs of my thighs, leaving no corner untouched. The sting dissipated under her suddenly gentle touch, and the intense lavender scent relaxed me, though at the same time, I found myself getting stimulated as she touched certain places, and I shuddered. A few moments later, another scent mixed with this one, vaguely familiar, though I couldn’t place it. Shea’s hand worked its way back across all the areas she had just touched, but instead of a rubbing sensation, it was now more of a glide. My whole rear end felt cool and dry now. Shea’s hand disappeared, and the sounds of rustling plastic reached my ears. Shea gently rolled me over onto my back, and my bottom landed on something soft, but very different from the throw that covered the bed, almost like a puppy pad. Again my mind went wild with the possibilities of what was happening. My legs were gently spread apart, which created another rustling noise on the soft pad beneath me. The lavender scent was renewed as Shea applied the same cream across my tummy and the insides of my thighs, and came back with what I began to realize was some sort of powder across the area, leaving me with that same cool, dry sensation.

With no warning, Shea drew the pad up between my legs, and I could feel elastic running right along the inside of my thighs as the padding pressed snugly against my skin. Suddenly the pieces came together in my mind, and I gasped in horror. Tape tabs were popped open, and the padding drew up tight against my hips and around my middle. My mouth moved silently as the shock stole my words. What kind of sick joke was she playing here, putting me in a diaper?!

“There we go,” Shea said cheerfully, sitting me up on the bed and removing my blindfold. “You like your new underwear?”

“I… I can’t… I’m not…” I tried to formulate a response. I scanned the bed area. Lavender-scented baby lotion. Baby powder. A ripped-open package which read “ConfiDry 24/7 – Max Absorbency – Size S”

“You can, and you will,” Shea said quietly, the insipid grin still on her face. “You’re mine, for at least the next week, and you can and will wear diapers for Miss Shea, or you will be a very unhappy little girl…”

“But… but… my clothes!” I protested. In my head I ran through an inventory of clothing choices in my bags – all my jeans and shorts were double zero skinny, carefully selected to frame what little ass I had. I’d never get them over this… thing. And the handful of skirts I owned barely crossed my mid-thigh. I might as well hold up a sign as I walked through the halls announcing that I was wearing the damned thing! Tears started to form in my eyes as I tried to quell the rising panic.

“What’s wrong?” Shea laughed, “Are we scared everyone’s gonna see our little diapee?” Inside I burned at her mockery, wanting nothing more than to rip the thing off and slap her across the face with it. “Don’t worry,” she continued, “I have a dress for you for the party tonight, and we’ll go shopping for some pretty new clothes after you get your big-girl classes all set up tomorrow morning!”

One of her dresses?! But she was a fucking COW! “But… I’m not… I mean… you’re too…”

“I’m too WHAT?” Shea snapped, standing up and leaning it at me, her eyes alight with indignation. “Too FAT?! Is that what you were going to say? You don’t want to wear my big FAT clothes? I guess you’d rather just go around in your shirt and diaper, then! How about that?!”

I recoiled at her outburst, frantically trying to find an alternative to the word Shea kept throwing at me, the one that was already fixed in my mind beforehand. “No, Miss Shea! I… I meant you’re… you’re so tall, and I’m so little!” I blubbered, tears streaming freely down my face. If I was going to avoid that riding crop, now would be the time for the acting job. Truthfully, I was angry enough for tears anyway.

Whatever I said seemed to soften the edge a little. “Oh, don’t worry! It’ll only be until after we’re done shopping, silly,” she said, returning to the mocking tone.

It was clear she wasn’t going to back down on the huge diapers. “Okay, Miss Shea,” I sniffled. “But what if I have to pee?”

“You’re so precious!” she laughed. “I think that’s what I’m going to call you from now on. ‘Precious’.” I winced at the name, but before I could protest, she dropped the hammer. “What do you think diapers are for, Precious?”

Wait, this crazy person actually expected me to use the diapers for their intended purpose?! “But… how long do I have to wear it?!”

“The entire week,” she said cheerfully.

My mind filled with even more questions, but I was downright terrified to ask any of them, as the answers kept getting worse and worse. “Please, Miss Shea,” I begged, “can’t I just do your laundry and clean your room and carry your books and things?!”

“If you want to. That would make me very happy. But it won’t get you out of wearing your diapers.”

“Your” diapers. Bitch! The tears began to flow again as I trembled in rage, flopping over onto the bed and hiding my face in the pillow. “Aw, it’s alright Precious,” she cooed, patting my bottom, each hollow thud on the plastic amplifying the humiliation that flooded my mind. “You’ll get used to them. Before long I think you’re gonna like wearing your potty wherever you go…”

I remained silent while she continued patting my thickly padded ass for a few more minutes. “Well, Miss Shea has to go get ready, and then we have to get little Precious dressed for the party. You can lie there and sulk for a while until Miss Shea is done.” With that, she got up and left the room, leaving me to brood, still naked save for the plastic torment between my legs.

Re: Initiation (Chapters 1-3 up)

Any updates?

Re: Initiation (Chapters 1-3 up)

As a matter of fact, I’ve done a reboot on this and am happy to edit these three and put a couple of new ones up for you. Gimme a few minutes.

Re: Initiation (Chapters 1-3 up)


Once the door was closed, my fury began to boil over, and I stuck my face into one of her pillows and screamed, then punched it a few times for good measure. Not feeling particularly much better, I sat up. The rustle underneath my backside was loud, damned loud, and it struck a chord of anxiety within me. How the hell was I supposed to walk around the campus with this noisy thing on and not get noticed? I reached back and touched the plastic on my rear, gliding my hand over it, applying pressure on my bottom. It felt like heavy shrink wrap over a pillow. I sat up and took a long look at it. It looked just so utterly huge on me, riding up so high it covered my bellybutton completely. I turned around and looked in the back. Well, I always wanted a bigger ass, I guess, I thought ruefully. The thing was just so thick, so huge. I pulled at the top of it. It shifted a little above where the tapes landed, but below them it was motionless. She definitely latched it down tight.

I looked down at the floor in disgust. There lay the pile of cloth that used to be my favorite thong, a beautiful lacy pink thing I bought on clearance at Victoria’s Secret last year, much to my mother’s chagrin when she discovered it in the laundry. “Seriously?” I remembered her huffing at me, “There’s hardly any point wearing underwear if it’s this damned threadbare!” I almost thought Mom would approve of Shea’s “upgrade”.

I ran my hand across the tapes, down the front, and between my legs. There was clearly a gap between the padding and my skin in the crotch area, and I applied some pressure to it. It was very soft inside against my sensitive parts, which actually felt kinda good. I rubbed at it a little and shivered at the stimulation. I increased the pressure some and let out a little moan in response to the sensation, the crinkling sound teasing me, like some secret taboo, exhorting me to keep going. I started to rub a little faster and started getting worked up, but suddenly the feeling turned from pleasurable to painful as the pad soaked up every bit of moisture in the area and left it feeling like sandpaper against those little hot spots.

Snapped out of the daze, I jerked my hand away. What the hell had come over me, that made me want to play with myself in a goddamned diaper?! Shame now piled on to the humiliation, and my body suddenly felt disgusting, dirty, like I desperately needed a shower. I squirmed on the bed, the diaper rustling away, and my skin started to feel itchy all over, like I was covered in spiders or bugs of some sort. I let out a yelp and jumped to my feet, the force of the padding staggering me as I landed somewhat bow-legged on the floor, not entirely sure of my footing. I crossed my arms and shuddered, feeling cold, naked, and vulnerable. How in the hell was I going to survive a week of this?!

The door swung open and Shea walked back in casually, her hair and body each wrapped in a towel. “Oh, aren’t you just the cutest thing, dancing around in your little diapee!” she laughed.

I wanted to be angry, but after what just happened, I couldn’t do much of anything but blush at the taunt. The images of my hand stroking away at the padding between my legs like some toddler boy who just discovered his pee-pee stripped away any indignation I tried to muster. I looked away from her and sat back down on the bed with another rustle, rubbing my arms against the chill I felt.

“Aw, are we cold? Don’t worry, Precious. Miss Shea will get you dressed soon.” She bent her head over and let her hair towel loose, mountains of black curls cascading down in front of her. I was instantly jealous. To think, she actually straightened them out all the time?! I spent an hour every morning trying to get a decent curl on mine! She tossed her head back, walked over to the closet, and dropped her other towel. Now THAT I didn’t need to see. She had not one but TWO spare tires around her middle, and the backs of her legs were all pocked with fat. Her flabby ass jiggled away as she opened the closet door and rummaged around. One by one, she pulled out three hangers, one with a silken-looking burgundy blouse, another with a pair of black jeans, and the third a small floral-print dress with a lace-trimmed Peter Pan collar. She turned around with an insipid grin, her flabby waist and drooping boobs nearly crushing together in a mound of flesh, exaggerating her pear-shaped figure. “Like what you see?” she sneered. “At least I don’t have to stuff MY bra.”

I fumed at her taunt, but decided it was a bad idea to answer it. She threw the clothes on the bed and fished through the top drawer of her bureau, producing a very large pair of black lace panties and a matching bra and slipped them on. “So sorry, Precious. No big-girl panties for you,” she taunted as she pulled her jeans on, then her top. “Precious ready to get dressed now?” she asked, smiling.

I nodded reluctantly, reaching out for the dress. She slapped my hand away. “Arms up!” she ordered. I complied, groaning my annoyance. “If that’s how you feel, we can skip the dress and you can go to the party like that,” she suggested. My eyes bulged. “Well?”

“Please no, Miss Shea!” I protested.

“Then quit being a brat.” She pulled the dress down my arms and then over my head. I grimaced at it. “What’s wrong, Precious? We don’t approve of the party dress Miss Shea picked out for us?”

“I… It’s fine, Miss Shea,” I grumbled. I couldn’t believe how loose it was on my frame as she pulled it over my head, which made the prospects of what she might be able to locate in my size even more terrifying. Worse, the thing was cut for a barrel-chested girl, not one with actual boobs, so it completely masked my little B-cup breasts, making me look even more juvenile.

“There, see? Now nobody will see anything!” she huffed.

“I wore that dress to my mother’s second wedding, when I was 13,” she continued. “It’s a girls’ 16 and a half, so it’s still big on you, but we’ll get you some age… I mean size-appropriate clothes tomorrow after you get signed up for all your big-girl classes. Won’t that be nice?”

“Do I still have to wear the diaper, Shea? Please, can I take it off?” I begged.

“If you ask me that question again, Tamara, I swear, you’ll be in diapers your whole freshman year, and I’ll get Lisa to sign off on it!” Shea snapped. “Now open up your mouth!”

Defeated, I did as I was told, and Shea shoved a huge nipple into my open mouth, attached to a mouth guard, which was in turn attached to a ribbon that ended in a suspender clip. I whimpered and started to reject it, but Shea put her finger right on the button in front and said, “If you spit it out even once, you’ll be wearing nothing but your diaper in the house every day until the end of the week, and I’ll make sure you are confined to public areas every minute that you’re not sleeping. Understand?”

I nodded, my eyes downcast. “Good,” said Shea, attaching the clip to my collar. “That little object and this little dress is your cover. We’re going downstairs to join the party in a few minutes, and you’re going to hold my hand, just like the little brat that you are. No one is going to think you’re wearing diapers, and as long as you’re a good girl, I’m not going to tell them. If you act up, I’ll change your diaper right in front of everyone, whether you need it or not. Understand?” I nodded again, much faster now.

“Good girl,” Shea continued. “I assume your clothes are still in your car?” Another nod. “Where are your keys?” I pointed out the door. Shea removed the pacifier. “Where, brat?”

“In my purse, downstairs, in that room where the auction was. They made us pile them all up.”

Pacifier went right back in. “Miss Shea is going to go find some pretty shoes to go with your pretty dress, and then we’ll go to the party. You be a good girl while I’m gone, okay?” Her syrupy tone was grating my nerves, but I nodded anyway.

She stood up and headed out the door. Alone with my thoughts once again, I began to ruminate. Yes, I desperately wanted to be a Rho. It was my golden ticket straight into the top tiers of TV journalism, for heaven’s sake! There were Rho alumni sitting on the boards of nearly every major network, and Mom was on a first-name basis with at least half of them! But this wasn’t supposed to be how it went! Wasn’t that the whole point of being well-connected, that I didn’t have to endure this miserable treatment? Wasn’t I supposed to just waltz through the door and flash a smile at the right person, and I’d be in? Mom assured me the rewards were worth the trouble of doing the sorority political dance, that the alumni association would make sure I was well taken care of, even this far from home, if I joined the house and maintained her good standing. All I had to do was make sure I stayed at the top of my class, and my life at school would be that of royalty! Such was the legacy of an alumni association director’s daughter. It was supposed to be a breeze. Instead I was struggling to resist the temptation to get back in my car, drive back to Cherry Hill, and crawl into Mom’s arms until I felt safe again. Collapsing backward onto the bed in the throes of my melancholy, I slowly suckled the nipple in my mouth and found it strangely calming, a buoy for me to cling to in the middle of this storm of humiliation. Inside, my resolve began to refresh itself. I could do this! That psycho wasn’t going to break me! I’d get through this torture somehow, and when it was over, I’d find a way to get revenge on her fat, jealous, miserable ass!

Re: Initiation (Chapter 5 up)


I was still chewing on the pacifier nipple and stewing over how to get payback on Shea when the big girl waltzed through the door with a grin, holding a pair of my flats. Of course, she picked the pink ones with the great big bows on the toes. I was certain I’d donated those shoes to Goodwill; they were a gift from my grandmother for my 16th birthday, and I’d never worn the embarrassing things; I could scarcely believe such girly-girl crap existed in my shoe size. Not that I had big feet or anything, but…

“Now we’ve got pretty shoes for Precious, and Miss Shea brought some pretty bows to put in our hair too!” Shea said cheerfully. I scowled as Shea slipped the shoes on my feet, then produced a brush and a couple of barrettes with ridiculously huge pink bows attached. Without warning, she snatched me up and plopped me on her lap with a rustle, then proceeded to pull my ponytail out and brush my hair into what I could immediately feel as two pigtails on either side of my head. Scowling, I braced myself for the inevitable.

“There! Now little Precious is all pretty for the party! Are we ready to go now?” Shea cooed. I was silent. “I’ll take that as a yes,” she said, jerking me to my feet, her hand in a death grip with mine. She practically dragged me toward the door, stumbling in the mass of cloth draped over me and bow-legged from the pillow secured between my legs. We proceeded down the hall and toward the staircase, Shea humming merrily the whole way, my clumsy waddling creating a terrific amount of noise from the plastic prison beneath me. My anxiety level rose exponentially as I became quite certain that everyone in the house would hear that accursed plastic rustling, and I whimpered my protest. It was bad enough to be constantly aware of it myself, but the terror of having it discovered and the shame that certainly would follow was downright nerve-wracking. She held my hand up high over my head as we walked down the stairs, as though she were expecting me to stumble, which I nearly did a couple times.

We hit the bottom of the staircase, and I quickly surveyed the scene. The big athletic girl who had been sold off first was stripped down to her bra and panties and on all fours in front of the TV in the living room, serving as a footrest for her owner. Several other pledges were dolled up in French maid costumes, scrubbing the walls and floors and dusting. I’d just spotted poor Lucy, who’d been stuffed into a leather corset and boy shorts with a big poofy rabbit tail attached and was walking around with a tray of chips and dip, when one of the house sisters laid eyes on me.

“Ohhhhhhh my god what an adorable little thing!” she cried. I cringed and felt my face flush as suddenly all eyes were fixed on me.

“She is SO precious!” shouted another. If there were a hole in the floor, I would have dove in and hoped it took me straight to oblivion. Mayhem ensued, with fingers pinching my cheeks and tickling under my arms, and it took all my strength to resist the urge to start swatting away at them.

“What a cute little dress! A little big for her, though!” exclaimed a third girl.

“She wanted to be a big girl for the party, so I let her wear one of my dresses!” Shea replied with a grin.

“Aw, how adorable. You’re almost a big girl, aren’t you?” she replied, tickling at my tummy, coming dangerously close to making contact with the top of my diaper. I instinctively began to chew on the pacifier to calm my anxiety, which I regretted immediately, as it elicited even more excited noise from my new fan club as it wiggled around in front of my face.

Shea waded through the crowd, dragging me along, and settled into a large armchair, settling me on her lap, wrapping one arm firmly around her my middle and patting my bottom with the other. She just grinned down at me as I squirmed and blushed ever deeper.

“Wait a minute, I thought the slaves were supposed to take care of their mistresses, not the other way around!” Lisa, the auctioneer and house president, sauntered over with a mischievous grin on her face.

“You don’t really think a fragile little thing like this could handle all those big girl chores and stuff, do you?” Shea replied. “I mean, I even had to dress her and fix her hair for her!”

I cringed as Lisa leaned in close, practically nose-to-nose. “Oh my god, you’re just like a little china doll, aren’t you? We wouldn’t want to break such an adorable little doll baby, would we?” She patted me on my cheek, and I winced, even though the cool touch of her fingers was a comforting feeling against my blazing hot skin. Lisa turned to Shea and asked, “Would we like some punch?”

“Why that would be lovely, Miss Lisa. Do we have a special cup for Precious here so she doesn’t spill all over her party dress?”

“Why, I believe we do, somewhere around here!” Lisa said happily.

As she sauntered off, Shea pulled me in close, rubbing my bottom, and whispered, “See that, Precious? No one knows about your cute little diapers, and as long as you keep being a good girl, they won’t find out, either. Are you gonna keep being a good girl?”

I nodded silently. I was so far beyond humiliated by all the unwanted attention, it hadn’t even dawned on me that no one else had noticed all the rustling coming from between my legs. Clearly Shea wasn’t about to let my attention drift from what I was wearing, but the bitch was right; it seemed everyone else was too busy with the pacifier and the pigtails and the oversized dress to notice the noise that was as loud as thunder in my ears.

Lisa flounced her way back over through the crowd, a red plastic cup in one hand and, much to my chagrin, a lidded cup topped with a bendable straw and emblazoned with Disney princesses in the other. “Hey there! Hope this isn’t too much for such a little girl to drink!” she cooed, handing the cups respectively to the two of us.

“Hold it with both hands now, Precious,” said Shea. “What do you say to Auntie Lisa?”

“Fank you,” I grumbled from behind the pacifier, blushing at how infantile the words sounded coming out of my mouth.

“What a polite little girl you have here!” Lisa said.

“And thirsty too. VERY thirsty!” said Shea, winking at Lisa. Lisa nodded knowingly and wandered off, stopping periodically to whisper and point back. Shea took the pacifier out of my mouth and said, “Drink up, Precious!”

I took a nervous pull on the straw. It was fruit punch, for sure, but the burn of the alcohol in it was intense, and I was more than a little nervous about how much of an impact it would have on my mental state later. Shea sipped on her drink while cajoling me to hurry up with mine. I drained the thing within a minute or so, and almost immediately after I set it down, she had the pacifier back in my mouth. More surprisingly, though, was the hand that appeared out of nowhere to snatch the cup from me. “What a thirsty little thing!” declared the sister attached to said hand.

“Yes, she IS!” Tamara agreed, chuckling. Within minutes, the ritual played itself out again, and in less than an hour, I met (and thanked) Aunties Beth, Shaniqua, Jennifer, and Melissa, not to mention Lisa making a second appearance. My head was getting very fuzzy, much to my chagrin. Worse, though, the alcohol hit me somewhere I didn’t particularly want to be hit; I had to pee, and urgently so! I squirmed in Shea’s lap, desperately trying to find someplace I could comfortably get a better squeeze going on down there, but the pillow between my legs wasn’t having any of it. Shea looked down at me and smiled broadly.

“Oh my,” she whispered, “is Miss Shea gonna have a wet diaper to change soon?”

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Re: Initiation (Reboot with chapters 4-5 added)


This was it. The reality that I had been trying to push out of my mind was now towering in front of me, the 800-pound gorilla in the fore of my brain. There was no escaping it; sometime in the very near future, I was going to piss my pants for the first time since I couldn’t even remember, and the worst part was, I was dressed properly for the occasion. Sweat began to form on my brow as I fought wave after wave of cramps. It was an exercise in futility, but my sense of self-respect wasn’t going to let me give up without as much of a fight as I could muster. The plastic nightmare wrapped around my waist would just have to wait a little longer. In the back of my mind, I fantasized about the damned thing leaking. Sure, I’d be embarrassed, but Shea’s dress would be ruined, and she’d have to go change her own pants too!

Meanwhile, to my horror, Lisa returned with yet another cup full of the mystery punch. Already well past my limit, the last thing I wanted was more alcohol, for my brain or my bladder, but the cup was thrust into my hands even as I shook my head furiously. I quietly offered thanks once again, wincing as my bladder cramped over and over. I tried to fake it a little, taking little fake sips at the straw, but Shea wasn’t buying it.

“Drink up, Precious,” she said with no small hint of malice in her voice.

I took a sip, swallowing very slowly. Another more intense cramp elicited an involuntary whimper.

“I said drink up.”

Another sip. Another swallow. Another cramp. The fight was all but over now. Sweat beaded down my cheeks.

“Do I need to get the paddle?”

My eyes bulged, and I drank furiously. All at once, the floodgates opened, and a rush of heat poured out of me. I cringed as it flowed over my labia and down my butt crack, and the diaper began to swell underneath me. Shea’s demeanor changed rapidly, a wicked smile replacing the fierce stare. After what seemed like an eternity, my bladder was empty, my entire crotch was clammy and disgusting, and the pillow had swelled to what felt like an entire mattress, pushing my thighs apart even further.

“Finish your drink.”

Defeated, I did as I was told. Maybe if I got completely wasted, I could stop thinking about the horrible, disgusting, humiliating thing I just did. As of right now, the idea that I was sitting on a great big sponge full of my own piss was nearly nauseating. I finished the punch and dropped the cup, my arms suddenly feeling very weak.

Shea leaned in and whispered, “Does Precious need her diaper changed?” I nodded slowly.

“Precious want me to change her right here in front of everyone?” I shook my head furiously.

“Then Precious gonna have to wait until I decide it’s time for bed, okay?” I shook my head again.

“Your choice. Diaper change here right now, or diaper change in my room later.”

My mind spun. Even as drunk as I was, I wasn’t drunk enough to deal with twenty-odd girls I’d never met before tonight seeing that I just pissed myself and watching me get changed. But the alternative was terrifying, especially with how fast they were pouring drinks down my throat.

“Well?” Shea asked expectantly.

Waffling back and forth, I finally squeaked out, “I’ll wait.”

Shea smiled. “I’m sure your diapers will hold plenty more, don’t worry,” she whispered, tucking the pacifier back into my mouth.

That settled it. If I was going to have to sit in my own pissy diaper, then I was determined to get drunk enough to stop caring.

Suddenly, Shea slid out from under me, plopping me onto the seat, which pressed the soaked padding up against my ass. “Miss Shea has to go pee in the toilet like a big girl now,” she whispered. “You be a good little girl while I’m gone, okay?”

I nodded silently, chewing on the nipple again. She patted me on the head, then waved Lisa over. “I think Precious needs another drink, Auntie Lisa. Can you help her out? I gotta go powder my nose.”

Lisa grinned and said, “Sure I can. And I’m sure she’ll behave for Auntie Lisa, won’t she?”

“Yeth Auntie Litha,” I said quietly. Shea disappeared up the stairs and Lisa took my cup to the kitchen. I squirmed in the seat a little, trying to find a more comfortable position with the balloon full of piss sitting under me. I was halfway done with the drink Lisa brought me by the time Shea came back and repositioned me on her lap.

I lost count how many more times that cup got refilled, or how much time had elapsed, but I could barely keep my eyes open now, and much to my frustration, I wound up peeing in it again. As hard as it was to let myself go the first time, it seemed to come much easier on the second try, which both relieved and worried me at the same time. My crotch felt like a swamp now, though in my stupor I barely cared. I held the empty cup high in the air and waved it around sloppily, but this time Shea was the one who snatched it.

“I think you’ve had enough,” she said. “Time for bed!” I shook my head clumsily and whimpered.

“No, no more drinks for you.” She tried to pull me to a stand, but my knees were so wobbly I nearly dropped straight to the floor. Shaking her head, she hoisted me up onto her hip, squishing all that pee up tight against my skin. I winced a little as I could swear I felt a dribble creep down my thigh. “Hey everybody, say goodnight to Precious!” she called out.

A chorus of responses rang back, many of them sounding as drunk as I felt, and all at once I was being carried up the stairs. I was passed out cold by the time we reached her bedroom door.

Re: Initiation (chapter 6 up)

I really love the play on humiliation in this story. I’ve been secretly looking for a sorority story of this genre and thank god someone has finally written a damn good one. I can’t wait until the next update.

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Re: Initiation (chapter 6 up)

I like getting feedback for my writing and I usually like something better than “Me want moooooooorrrreeee.” I need to take the time to write feedback on stories I enjoy. It is trading value for value, do onto others, etc. That being said:

I want more.

You really put all the elements I like in a story. I like plausible stories, female protagonists, preferably a female antagonist, and diapers. The humiliation isn’t over the top, the character doesn’t constantly pee and poop herself at way more than healthy normal rates. I also liked the first person point of view. It turned out better than the beta chapters you posted earlier.

Improvement: I would like to know what motivates Shea to treat Precious like this. Is this a traditional hazing for the smallest girl, or does Shea have ABDL tendencies? We will find out, I hope. We are getting Precious’s motives for accepting this. I was never in a sorority in college and really had no idea why one would join one. Your story enlightened me on this point.

Re: Initiation (chapter 6 up)

Thank you for that thoughtful response. I have plans for divulging Shea’s motivations. One is sort of inferred at the outset, but apparently too subtly - Shea is seriously overweight, “Precious” is slender, attractive, and though Shea wouldn’t have known this in advance, something of a brat. One of the challenges with first-person POV is showing external characters’ motivations without the ham-handed super-villain type announcements - “Well, Mr. Bond, let me explain my entire plot to you!”

Re: Initiation (chapter 6 up)


The brilliant white light blistered through my still-closed eyelids, and a series of drawers opening and closing sounded like sledgehammers in my ears, amplifying the sensation that a railroad spike was being driven straight through my skull. I rolled over, groping for a pillow to cover my head, and moaned my protest. “Just a couple more hours, Mom, please!”

“Better wake up, Precious,” a voice sneered. “Wouldn’t want to be last in line for registration now, would we?”

Registration… Precious… through the haze of my hangover, the previous day’s events began to reform in my head. My hand found its way to my rear and met the plastic I was so certain I’d dreamed last night. I rolled over and sat up slowly, rustling the whole way, my eyes still half-open, using one hand to shield my face from the sunshine pouring into the window. My mouth tasted like something had died in it recently, and my throat felt like I’d been swallowing gravel all night. I looked down. I was naked save for the diaper around my waist, which thankfully was still dry. At least I hadn’t pissed in my sleep!

“So Sleeping Beauty decided to get up finally!” Shea laughed. She was already dressed, which made me wonder if she was just slamming drawers to annoy me.

“Water,” I croaked.

“Right there on the bedstand, with some Tylenol,” she chuckled. “Can’t be staggering around hungover at the registration lines, or you might accidentally sign up for Pre-Med instead of Comm!”

I located the pills and the… Disney princesses cup. Grimacing, I tossed the pills into my mouth and took a pull on the straw. It tasted like plain water, thankfully. As soon as I swallowed, though, my bladder awoke with a vengeance, and I started to look around for something to cover myself with so I could go to the bathroom.

“Whatcha lookin’ for, Precious?” Shea sang.

“Where’s that dress I wore last night? I gotta pee!” I said frantically.

“So pee. Who’s stopping you?”

I was not in the mood for more jokes. “Ha, ha, I get it. Come on, Shea, enough already!”

“Better get used to it, Precious,” she taunted, “That diaper isn’t coming off until it’s good and soaked. So unless you want to be soggy all morning at registration, you’d better start peeing, so Miss Shea can change Precious’ diaper before it’s time to go. Understand?”

I was stunned. She actually meant to go through with this! “Fuck you!” I hissed.

Her backhand came so fast I never saw it coming, and nailed me square in the cheek. The force of the blow coupled with my surprise broke my hold over my overly-full bladder, and out it came. “Sass me again and you can stay in that diaper all day, you little shit! What does the brat say to her mistress after she disrespects her?”

“Sorry,” I spat.

“Sorry what?!” she demanded.

“Sorry Miss Shea,” I replied, through gritted teeth. If looks could kill, the daggers I was throwing with my eyes would have cut her to ribbons. My bladder finally empty, the hot humiliation now embracing my nether regions, I grumped, “There, I peed my pants. Happy now?”

“You’d better watch it little girl, if you expect me to change that thing,” she replied, her tone even darker than before. “I guarantee you’re gonna be hating life if you get a diaper rash. Now, what does little Precious want?”

I bit my lip. “A new diaper.”

“That’s not how you ask politely.”

I groaned. “Can I have a new diaper, please?”

“Try again. What do you need Miss Shea to do?”

My hands trembled as I swallowed my anger and said, “Please, Miss Shea, can you put a new diaper on me?”

“Let’s try it one more time,” she said. “Say, ‘I peed in my pants, Miss Shea. Will you change my diaper for me please?’”

Sorority pledge or no, I was ready to punch her in her fat, sneering face. “I peed in my pants, Miss Shea. Will you change my diaper for me please?” I growled. Grind it on in, you miserable cow, I thought to myself.

“That will work this time, but you’d better learn how to say it a lot nicer, or I’ll just start lifting your dress to see for myself and change you when I think you need it, wherever and whenever that happens to be. Get the picture?”

Somehow I knew she wasn’t kidding. “Yes Miss Shea,” I mumbled, my outrage tempered by fear.

“Good. Lay down.” I complied, and she walked over to the dresser and retrieved the supplies. On her way back, she grabbed the pacifier from the dress I’d worn last night. “Open,” she demanded.

“Come on, Shea!” I protested.

“If you want your diaper changed, you’d better open your mouth!” she snapped, her volume level increasing. I opened. She stuffed the nipple in and let the clip dangle off the ring. “I figured I’d be nice and let you go without your paci for a while. Obviously that was a mistake.”

She was decidedly rough this time around, ripping the tapes off, wiping me down with a cold wipe, grabbing me up under my knees and jerking my bottom into the air to slip the old diaper out and put a new one in. She didn’t even bother with the powder, just slapped some smelly ointment on my private parts and around my butt hole, and pulled the tapes down extra tight, to where I could feel the elastic biting into my inner thighs. “Ow!” I protested.

“Quit whining and be glad I didn’t paddle you black and blue first, brat!” She stood me up and examined her handiwork. I bit down hard on the nipple as she turned me around and gave me a solid swat on the rear. It didn’t hurt, but the hollow plastic thud was salt in my wounded pride. “By the way, Precious, for being such a little shit this morning, you just started your week over,” she said as she turned me back around to face her. “Now, would you like a dress to wear today, or would you rather go around like this?”

“Dreth pleeth!” I replied with no hesitation.

“Think hard now, Precious, and try again.” She pulled the pacifier out, holding it just in front of my mouth, and put a hand on her hip.

I grimaced at the realization that this was not going to stop any time soon. “Miss Shea, will you please put my clothes on for me?”

Nipple went straight back into my mouth. “Close enough,” she said flatly as she turned toward the closet and went digging.

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Re: Initiation (chapter 7 up)

Btw, this is a commission story. We’ve been on it for awhile.

Plenty more good stuff to come

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Re: Initiation (chapter 7 up)

This is coming along pretty well. I don’t know if I like where the chapter ended, but you will get there eventually.

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Re: Initiation (chapter 7 up)

Admittedly, I’m every bit of 8 chapters ahead. I’m just making sure Jeffy is happy with the direction before I go and post it.

Re: Initiation (chapter 7 up)

You can post through chapter 14 if you want

Re: Initiation (chapter 7 up)

Nah. I want to stay reasonably ahead of the game this time around.

Re: Initiation (chapter 7 up)


I desperately wanted a shower, but that was clearly out of the question now that I had a clean diaper on and she intended to put clothes on me. She picked out a denim jumper from the closet that would probably be mid-thigh length on her and a pink t-shirt from her drawer. I grimaced at the combination. “What’s wrong, Precious? Do we not approve of Miss Shea’s choice of clothes? Perhaps we’d prefer just the t-shirt instead?”

“No Mith Thea!” I said immediately, quite certain she’d make good on the threat if I didn’t.

“Good. Arms up, Precious,” she instructed, and I complied. She slipped the t-shirt on me, then the dress, then brushed my hair back out straight and tied it into a ponytail. Finally, she clipped the pacifier to the collar of the t-shirt and stood me up. I was completely swamped in the dress, the waistline sitting several inches too low and the hem all the way down past my knees.

“There. All pretty now,” she affirmed. “You may go brush your teeth now, and then you may meet me downstairs for some coffee before you go register.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a plastic half-orb of some sort. She popped the nipple out of my mouth and snapped on what I now realized was some sort of cap for it. “So it won’t get dirty,” she affirmed. “Go on, go get your teeth brushed.”

I bent over with a loud crinkle and grabbed my makeup case and my toiletries out of my overnight bag. “Oh, and that pacifier had better be back in your mouth when you come down, Precious,” she said as I waddled nervously out the door and toward the bathroom nearest her bedroom, rustling away under the huge dress. I grimaced at the realization that it was my first visit to any bathroom since I came to the house yesterday evening, thanks to the stupid diaper around my middle.

The bathroom was huge, nearly as big as my bedroom at home! There was a whirlpool tub that looked to be big enough to fit five or six people comfortably, a separate shower stall, and a double sink with two mirrors. I supposed that was probably a necessity with this many women living here at once. I looked over at the toilet and felt a twinge of longing. Suddenly, I realized something I’d overlooked in all the humiliation of peeing on myself; she didn’t really expect me to do THAT in my diaper too?! I shuddered at the gruesome thought, grabbed my toothbrush, and brushed my teeth with vigor, as though trying to scrub away the horrible thought that now hung in the fore of my brain, gagging a couple of times at the mental picture while I scrubbed and spat. I was so fixated, I barely noticed how long I was brushing until my spit started to turn pink. I rinsed my mouth and slipped my brush and paste back into the baggie and then back into my makeup bag. I looked in the mirror; my face looked like shit, but I had neither the time nor the motivation to do anything about it, considering how ridiculous I looked in this dress. At least it completely covered the diaper, even if it didn’t do much to mask the noise.

I pulled the cap off the pacifier and looked the thing over for the first time since she started making me use it. It was white, with a big pink ring attached, and “Baby Girl” written in pink script across the front. No wonder they found it so hilarious. I stuffed it into my mouth angrily and tucked the cap into the front pocket of the jumper.

I left the bathroom, trying in vain to find a normal gait without exaggerating the noise between my legs, dropping my kit off in her room then making my way down the stairs. Several girls had passed out on the furniture in the living room and were still asleep. Lisa, on the other hand, was wide awake and sipping coffee in the kitchen with Shea when I walked over.

“Well good morning, Precious!” she said. “What a great big dress for such a little girl!”

“Hi Li… um… Auntie Litha,” I said with a sigh.

“She is just so adorable when she tries to talk with that thing,” she laughed. Shea chuckled along with her.

I started toward the coffeemaker, then paused for a moment. “Um, Mith Thea?” I asked timidly.

“What is it, Precious?”

“May I pleath have thome coffee?”

“Well I don’t know, you’re such a little girl, I wouldn’t want to stunt your growth! How about a nice glass of milk instead?”

“Aw, don’t be mean,” Lisa said. “Fix our little Precious a cup of coffee so she doesn’t make a mess trying to do it herself, Shea.”

“I guess one cup won’t hurt too much,” Shea replied. She poured a cup and added sugar and milk, then set it on the counter in front of me. She pulled the pacifier back out of my mouth and capped it, then unlatched the clip and dangled it in front of me. “Precious be okay today without her paci? Or does she want to keep it with her in the big scary admissions office?”

“No Miss Shea,” I mumbled.

“You sure? We wouldn’t want to have a meltdown because we missed our paci now, would we?”

“Oh, you’re terrible!” Lisa cut in. “Poor thing already has to wear your clothes, although I have no idea why!”

“Little girls shouldn’t be running around in the kind of slut-wear I found in her car,” Shea proclaimed. “All those hip-huggers and miniskirts and halter tops! Better to make her wear my clothes than to let her strut around campus looking like a trailer park hooker!”

Lisa nodded thoughtfully. I buried my face in the cup of coffee, stifling my anger. The two of them seemed content to leave me alone for a while, and when I finished my coffee, I volunteered, “Excuse me, Miss Shea.”

“What is it, Precious?”

“Thank you for the coffee. May I be excused to go register for classes?”

“Yes you may,” she replied sweetly.

“Um… thank you Miss Shea,” I said, heading back upstairs to fetch my purse. I walked back down the steps, having finally found a relatively comfortable gait to accommodate the bulk between my legs and quell the noise a little bit. As I reached the front hall, Shea was waiting for me at the door.

“I have eyes everywhere, Precious,” she said quietly. “If you don’t behave, I promise you, you’re going to be a sad little girl when you get back here. Understand?”

“Y…yes Miss Shea,” I replied.

“Good girl.” She stepped aside, and I hurried out the door.

Re: Initiation (chapter 8 up)


I got into my car with a huff. “Eyes” indeed. Dumb bitch must have thought I was born yesterday. All her “eyes” were probably lying around that stupid house still passed out from last night’s party. She may have been able to force me to piss myself while she was lording over me, but it would be easy to get the diaper off and use the bathroom when I needed to, then put it back on before I got back to the house. At least this stupid jumper dress hid the bulge completely. I started thinking about the kinds of clothes I’d need to buy to hide it without looking like a complete dork. Then I started thinking about the kinds of clothes Shea intended to buy for me, and shuddered as I considered the possibilities.

I found a pretty decent parking spot on campus and made my way to the admissions office. It was only nine in the morning, so the line for sign-ups hadn’t gotten bad yet, thankfully. Hearing my ass crinkle every time I moved was nerve wracking. It boggled my mind that the whole damned building couldn’t hear it. By the time I was finished with registration, though, I had to pee pretty badly. I hurriedly walked across the campus to the school bookstore and ducked into the bathroom. My fortunes were incredibly good; it was empty save for one girl washing her hands. She chuckled at my outfit as she brushed past me, and I ducked into a stall.

I lifted my dress and examined the diaper. I gingerly pulled at one of the tapes. It was noisy as hell, especially in that echo chamber of tile and concrete, but it came loose, and I folded it back on its backing to make sure it didn’t snag anywhere. Another came off with similar ease. More confident, I jerked the third one loose. To my horror, it ripped the plastic underneath! “Fuck!” I whispered. The damage didn’t look too bad; I figured I could probably place it back in the same spot and keep it together until I got home. Shea would probably just assume she ripped it when she changed me. With three tapes off, the thing was manageable enough to where I decided not to risk pulling the fourth. I slid it down the one leg just enough to where I could pee in the toilet without it getting in the way and did my business.

After I cleaned up, I slid the thing back up the one leg and re-taped that side without much trouble. The other side, though, fought me the whole time. The noise was ridiculous; it sounded like some guy was jerking off into a shopping bag. I finally managed to hold the two parts together and hold the dress up with one hand long enough to get the one tape back on with the other. Then came the one that ripped. I pulled it back as close as I could to the spot where she had put it and slapped it down. It immediately popped back off, ripping the plastic even further than before! I pulled it back tight again and held it down for a while, hoping it would decide to stick. Thankfully it did, but in the process it showed me what a lousy job I’d done with the other tape; the diaper was sagging badly. By that point, I was fed up with it. Hopefully Shea wouldn’t notice it when she changed me later. To my frustration, it was even more noisy than before! I decided to just walk as fast as I could, get the damned books, and get the hell out of there.

The plan worked, to the extent that no one in the rather crowded bookstore noticed, which was shocking, considering how many people bumped into me and how many times I had to bend over to grab a book off the bottom shelf somewhere. I lugged the mountain of reading material to the checkout, paid with my student account card, and headed back toward my car. As I finally plunked my butt down in the seat, exhausted, I heard and felt a pop. One of the tapes had come loose! I looked around to see if anyone was watching, then pulled my dress up and slapped the tape back on haphazardly, covering up as best as I could while I held it there for a minute. It stayed put, and I tried best not to move any more than necessary as I drove back to the sorority house.

I pulled up into the parking lot, grabbed the huge bags of books out of the passenger seat, and made my way toward the door. As I walked up the little staircase, it happened again; Pop! Pop! Both tapes from the one side came loose! Now I was just praying the one side would hold up for me as I mashed the doorbell with my knuckle. Shaniqua opened the door for me, and I said “Thank you Auntie Shaniqua,” as I rushed by and made for the staircase.

“What’s the hurry, Precious?” Shea called out from the kitchen.

“Um… these books are really heavy, Miss Shea!”

“Aw, poor little Precious, such a big heavy load for such a little girl!” Shaniqua laughed.

Shea walked over and clipped the pacifier back on my shirt, then stuffed it back into my mouth as I strained against the weight. Several giggles rose up from the living room. “There, all better. Now go put your books away like a good girl. I’ll be up in a minute to get you ready for our shopping trip, okay?”

“Yeth Mith Thea,” I offered meekly. I scampered up the steps to the sound of more laughter, feeling the diaper start to slip down my leg and praying it didn’t fall off before I got to the bedroom.

Thankfully, I managed to get the door open and scramble inside just as the diaper slid down to my ankle. I dropped the books next to the bed and pulled the diaper back up to my waist with one hand, hiking my dress with the other. I managed to get the top tape reattached just as Shea walked in.

Her smile disappeared quickly, and the dark glare that replaced it made me gasp. “You were a very, very bad girl, Precious.”

Re: Initiation (chapter 9 up)

Most stories similar to this one are usually rushed and lacks in other aspects, too, but this one is very well phased, giving the reader time to really get involved. I have no idea what Precious is going to do about the situation yet. I want to read on to see what happens next and with the latest addition’s cliffhanger even more so.