Meet Destiny, Wasted Chance

It made sense; it always followed the same pattern. I knew that actions had consequences. I knew that even the smallest thing could make a huge difference. And I thought, I thought I knew a lot of other things. I thought I knew what would happen if I screwed up; and I thought I knew how to avoid it.

I’ve done things I regret—we all have—but nothing too catastrophic, nothing life-changing. I didn’t want to hurt people and I didn’t want them to hurt me. I examined my choices and played it safe. I always made sure to fully weight each option in order to make an educated choice. I didn’t want to look back and regret the choice I’d made. But I hoped that somewhere in my life, there would be room for a little fun.

Somewhere in all of that, I fucked up—yeah, that’s worth swearing over—but I may never truly know exactly where it went so wrong. I got so caught up in the moment that I missed something important. It didn’t take long afterward for me to know how it would end—but I couldn’t see it at the time.

If I could go back and warn myself, I’d just say that it ends in tears.



In each hand was an option, a choice to be made. I stared at the two selections, literally weighing them against each other, trying to divine the answer. I wanted both, and in hindsight, that’s exactly what I should have done. Instead, I performed a mental coin toss.

Whiskey or Rum?

I made up my mind and walked to the counter.

“Good choice,” the teller said with a wink, “can I see your ID?”

I laid my driver’s license next to the bottle of Captain Morgan 100.

The teller checked my age and handed back my license. He began punching buttons on the register, good buttons, the kind of buttons that send me home with a bottle of rum.


I reached in my jacket pocket and felt around until I found my car keys. My thumb slid across the buttons and I pressed the familiar combination.

Lock, lock, hold to start.


I grinned as the teller jumped from the sound; I was still grinning when he turned back to face me.

“Is that yours?” He gestured out the window, now wearing a grin of his own.

“Hell yeah.” I grabbed the bag, claiming my prize.

“She sounds pretty nasty.”

I could only offer my most smugly satisfied face as I stepped toward the door.

“Enjoy your evening sir.”

“You too, man. Take care.” Outside, I set my goods in the floorboards. The deafening rumble and squeal of tires signaled my departure.

My car—an ‘06 Impala SS—was the result of a decision I made a while ago. With one small exception, I had no regrets regarding its purchase. It was fast, comfy, and especially more so, after some exhaust upgrades; loud. For the record, that one exception was purchasing one without bucket seats; they’re just more sporty. But every time I started the car, every time I hit the gas; I forgot a lot of regrets and a lot of other irritants.


Several days later, maybe a week or so, there was significantly less rum in the bottle.

Big friggin’ surprise, right?

I looked down at the blue paperwork before me. Sure enough, that wonderful, semiannual county tax was staring back at me. It wasn’t a particularly concerning figure, but I grumbled nonetheless. I shuffled through several more articles of mail while gradually draining my captain and coke.

The rest of the stack was either junk mail or bank statements; I returned to the previously set aside tax bill. With a coarse, muttered complaint, and a sloppy signature, I quickly wrote a check for the amount required. Naturally, I needed something to wet my whistle in order to seal the envelope; and with that, my drink drained further. I finished addressing the letter, and got up from the table.

Don’t forget to mail that.

As usual for important items, I stuffed the envelope into the pocket of my favorite jacket; a camouflage Carhartt work jacket, if you must know. This was my usual habit, and it basically guaranteed that I would remember whatever task it was that needed doing. I always found that it was a good idea to plan ahead.

In keeping with that, I made a detour to my bedroom. I usually reserved this for weekends, but it wasn’t too late and my chores were more-or-less done; so why not a little reward? Under my bed; hidden from my nonexistent roommates, an unlabeled and nondescript box lay waiting, calling. My drink was refreshing, and it convinced me that another one would be even more so. But if I was gonna drink, it would have to go somewhere, right?


I pulled out a colorful, printed, adult diaper; one that cleverly mimicked baby diapers from years past; a design I had graduated from long ago, but now revisited in private, whenever I had some spare time. This was my secret, and I planned to keep it so. I could imagine nothing worse or more damaging than being found out. But here at home, I was safe to indulge; and how could I resist something so damn comfortable? Additionally, the garment I was folding myself into granted more than just cushioning and nostalgia; it was also very convenient for my purposes.

As I stood, I felt the slight sensation of unsteadiness; a symptom of my poison, but also a comforting reminder that I was well on my way to a pleasant evening. I was all by myself and happy about it. The crinkling around my waist promised to keep bathroom interruptions from bothering me; with that in mind, I walked back to the kitchen.

A glance at my wall clock told me I still had a few hours before bed. I began to ponder which movie I should watch; there were dozens in my mental backlog and tonight seemed like a perfect time to cross one out. I opted for a quickly heated, frozen dinner, since I didn’t feel like spending the time to prepare something. As the microwave hummed, I moved to the adjacent living room in order to pick out something interesting to watch. I turned on the TV and began shuffling through my stack of disk cases. It was at that moment that I remembered my drink, something far more urgent than picking out a movie. Setting the cases down on the couch, I retrieved my glass from the table made my way to the fridge. From the freezer I pulled my bottle of rum—no need for ice if everything is already cold.

Wait a minute, this feels lighter than I remember.

I looked inside. Sure enough, there was only a tiny amount of liquid left. I stared at it for a second, then glanced at my almost empty glass.

Shit, well this ain’t gonna work.

I turned the bottle up and poured the rest into my mouth.

Wasn’t even a shot in there, how did I not notice that?

For a few seconds, I stared blankly at the empty rum bottle in my hand. A movie quote rolled through my head.

It’s not like a can go get more now…or can I?

The liquor store was only a few minutes away. I knew better than to drive drunk, but I wasn’t drunk yet, not by a long shot. I did a quick self-diagnosis; buzzed, and only slightly so. I weighed my options, I could stay here safely, but without booze, or I could do a quick run to the store and then enjoy the rest of my night. Better judgment told me to just stay put.

How often do I have this much free time in the evening anyway? Don’t wanna waste it!

Well no, but—

The Post Office is near the liquor store; if I stop there on the way back, I won’t need to go there tomorrow.

Now there’s an idea, killing two birds with one stone. That would fix my current situation and make the following morning a little less of a rush. I grinned to myself.

It’s not worth the risk, there—

Shut up brain!

I pointed the car remote toward the window and pressed the button sequence I knew by heart. Outside, two floors below, I heard the rumble of a V8 engine acquiescing with loud confirmation.

A pair of jeans would do a decent enough job of hiding my bulky and—wait for it… there it goes—now rather wet diaper. With an over-sized sweatshirt, I didn’t have to worry about anyone seeing the significantly large amount of material that protruded from the top of my pants. I occasionally went out in public, wearing a diaper and thus, was adequately prepared to hide the fact.

I grabbed my jacket as I passed the kitchen, but stopped. The TV was still on, the microwave was about to beep, and the last of my drink was sitting on the counter. I’d probably be back before my food even got cold, however…

“I can’t just let this sit here and go flat.” I tossed the last of my drink down the hatch, and made my way toward the door.

Outside, at my car, I tossed my jacket in the trunk. It fell on top of my overnight bag, which only had several diapers in it, rather than that alongside a full change of clothes; I had yet repack it after doing laundry. There was also an axe, but that was unrelated, and I only kept it there because it was too dirty to bring in the apartment, and I was too lazy to clean it. It had occurred to me in the past that if my car was searched for some reason, I’d be committed to an asylum without hesitation. However, I was not concerned with any of that at the moment; I just wanted more booze.


It was only after I parked my car outside the liquor store and tried to walk inside that I realized my previous mistake. I hadn’t actually stirred my drink when I poured it; something had interrupted me. The specifics were irrelevant, the important part was that there was almost no soda in the bottom of my glass. I must have not noticed it while I was sitting in the car, but now I had to put significantly more effort into walking straight; I definitely didn’t want anyone thinking I’d already had a drink.

In a stroke of wisdom, I decided to get whiskey and beer. Planning ahead, remember? I certainly wasn’t planning on finishing the whiskey that night, and the beer would be around for tomorrow or later. I smiled to myself as I drove toward home.

I suddenly remembered something important. A quick button press rectified the situation with an absolute cacophony of angry vocals, pounding drums, and excessive distortion. Now contented by the noise around me, I put all the windows down and turned my thoughts to other ponderings.

Now what else was I gonna do…?

Never mind that.

I slowed down as I approached a light. There, on the corner was a young woman. She stood alone, and my immediate, silly conclusion was that she must assuredly be a prostitute. Maybe that shot of rum hit me harder than I thought. I didn’t know, but I did know that…

I should mess with her and try and piss her off.

I put the car in neutral and revved the engine several times to get her attention. I probably didn’t need to as there wasn’t anyone else around. I cracked a grin and yelled over to her, “HEY! How much?”

“What!?” she looked around, checking to see if I might be talking to someone else.

“How much fer some fuck?” I yelled back, then burst into uproarious laughter.

She took a few seconds to react, then walked over to my window. In a drunken slur, she said “Fer your information, I’m not a hoe!”

It took me a couple seconds for her words to register. “What?”

“I ain’t a hoe!” She stepped back, taking a second step to brace herself.

I realized she was either lying and just didn’t wanna fuck, or really wasn’t a hooker. Disappointed that I hadn’t managed to elicit the desired response, I figured I should offer some meager form of an explanation. “Well ain’t that something? I wasn’t really looking for a hooker anyway.” I offered an apologetic grin.

She didn’t respond for a second.

I looked forward again; I couldn’t decide whether she had figured me out, or whether she was just too stumbling-ass drunk to know what to do next. I did, however; and pulled the car back into drive. “Well hey, have a nice life!”

“Wait!” she yelled into the window with a surprising urgency.

I turned back to her, unsure what to expect.

“If you aren’t doing anything else, can ya gimme a ride?” She was leaning heavily against the side of the car but her tone was sweet, innocent, and more articulate than it had been; just moments ago.

I hesitated, something didn’t add up. Shouldn’t she be offended or something?

“C’mon, lemme in.” She tugged on the door handle.

I hit the unlock button and she immediately got in.

“Let’s go!” she said excitedly.

While my judgment was already clouded, even I could see that she was way too trusting. A mischievous thought occurred to me and I grinned widely. Her foot was inside the car, but she hadn’t yet shut the door. I floored the gas pedal, simultaneously slamming the door shut, and throwing her back into the seat.

This is a bad idea—

Shut up, brain!

“Oh shit!” was all she could manage to say as we sped through the next two lights.

The third light was red so I slammed on the brakes, sending her tumbling into the dashboard.

“You should buckle up,” I said loudly as the car rocked back, “especially when you ride with a madman!”

The light turned green before she could answer, and I floored it again. For several more seconds we were launched backward as the car rocketed toward the next red light. Again, I stomped on the brakes; bringing us to a screeching halt once more.

“Oh shit!” she repeated, pushing herself away from the dashboard.

“YOU GOT FIVE SECONDS TO GIT NAKED!” I roared hoarsely; I could see from her face that my tone was taken seriously. “UNLESS YOU WANT ME TO SLIT YOUR THROAT!” I drew my thumb across my own neck, at the same time, smearing my face with a mad grin.

With eyes as wide as saucers, she began to look like a ghost. I saw her mouth move, but if she whimpered aloud, it was too faint to hear over the music.

A second of silence passed and it crossed my mind that this probably wouldn’t go over very well in a courtroom; or anywhere else for that matter. But I wasn’t planning on being judged for this, she’d be gone in a second.


She jolted in her seat.


Quick as lightning, her jacket came off. Trembling and fumbling, she barely managed to get her fingers under the hem of her shirt when I held up my hand.

“Time’s up, bitch!” I turned the music off.


“I SAID TIME’S UP!” I cut her off with a roar, causing her to jolt a second time.

She stared at me, fingers clutching her shirt; now completely frozen again. Her eyes caught my glare which kept her pinned to the seat; she made no attempt to escape.

“Now think carefully,” I began more softly. “I’ve just got one last question for ya.”

She didn’t dare to move her body, but her wide eyes followed my hand as I reached behind over the back of the seat. She didn’t need to know what I was grabbing; she only needed to guess.

“Did I scare you or what!?” I tried, but my attempt to hide my grin was futile. At the same time, I pulled my arm from behind the seat; in it was an unopened beer bottle.

Even just one of the faces she made next would have been worth a hefty sum. But the effect as she turned from white to red, scared shitless to confused, to skeptical, to angry, and then finally to embarrassed; that was truly priceless.

“Aw, fuck you!” She was trying to hide her own grin, but even her profanity wasn’t mean-spirited. Despite her best efforts, her ‘fuck you’ came out as a ‘fuck you, but even I can admit that was funny,’ rather than a ‘fuck you’ kind of ‘fuck you.’

“Ah-ha, you smiled.” I pointed the neck of the bottle at her. But even as I popped the lid off, I questioned how it was possible that she didn’t immediately hate me after a stunt like that. Surely there would be some backlash. “Now—” I began, intending to lecture her on the dangers of hitchhiking.

“Is that a beer?” She eyed the bottle in my hand.

I looked down to confirm that it should be obvious what the bottle contained. Unable to discern the nature of her question, I blurted out “what, you want one?”

“Hell yeah!”

I was still looking down at the bottle when her hand encircled it, just below mine. I looked up to meet her gaze.

“You shouldn’t drink beer and drive.” She grinned.

“Fine,” I let the bottle go nonchalantly. “you’re right, but whiskey is okay.”

“Mmm hmm,” she mumbled, tipping up the bottle.

I tipped up my own bottle after managing to fish it out of the rear floorboards. My throat burned a little as I took a gulp of the potent liquid. I noticed her staring at me as I put the cork back and set the bottle in the cup holder.

“Seriously?” she asked incredulously, laughing all the same.

“You said it was okay,” I responded with a pouting face.

She rolled her eyes with a sigh, turning forward again as she took another sip.

The light turned green and we took off down the vacant street.

“So, do you do this often?”

“What, pick up hookers?” I offered a shit-eating grin, knowing that wasn’t what she meant.

“No, you moron!” She emphasized her disagreement with a slap to the side of my head. “I told you—”

I just laughed; I knew that. And I knew she wasn’t really mad about it. Even if she had just slapped me, I knew it was in jest; it didn’t hurt, and that let me know she wasn’t offended.

“I meant, do you usually just drive around and chug whiskey? Seems a little unsafe.”

I feigned ignorance. “I’m not chugging, that would be irresponsible; I’m just taking sips.”

I could almost hear her eyes rolling. “Oh for crying out loud…”

For added effect, I waited several seconds before voicing my retort. “So, do you do this often?”

She shot a glance at me, but said nothing.

I smirked widely. “Of course not, you wouldn’t normally just hop in the car with a stranger; it was just my sexy voice and chiseled jaw that lured you in.”

“Shut up.”

A few minutes later, our trek found us passing through a quiet neighborhood that I didn’t recognize. It then occurred to me that I was just driving with no particular destination.

“Now what?” I said flatly.

“What’cha mean?”

“You heard me, didn’t you?” I glanced toward her. “You wanted a ride, but you didn’t say where you wanted to go.”

“Don’t really care,” she shrugged, “wherever you wanna go is fine.”


“So where are you goin’ with all this booze, a party or somethin’?”

“Nah, I just ran out, needed to get some more.”

“Speaking of…”

I looked over.

She no longer had a bottle in her hand.

I grabbed a replacement and handed it to her. “So I guess you’re not mad I made you nearly piss yourself?”

She accepted the drink without a word, I continued.

“You know, that’s what’s great about strangers, it doesn’t matter if I piss you off.” I gloated my success.

“Joke’s on you, dickhead,” she drained the neck of her newly opened bottle. Turning to me with a grin, she continued, “I did piss myself. But who cares, this ain’t my car, right?”

I looked at her for a second, her expression didn’t waver. “Aw, come on!” The realization hit me and I immediately regretted the joke. Ironically, the joke was not at her expense, but mine.

She kept grinning as I pulled over.

I turned on the interior light to inspect the damage.

She lifted herself, revealing a dry seat underneath.

My eyes met hers as she began to giggle helplessly.

“Just kidding!” she squealed, lowering herself again. “I gotcha good, didn’t I?”

Stinking son-of-a I can’t believe I just fell for that!

I sighed and hung my head. “Yep, you got me!”

“Well come on, stranger, let’s go. I ain’t got all night.”

We both turned forward again as I resumed driving. I helped myself to another sip of whiskey.

“So where’re you…Where exactly did you want me to take you?” I tried to drum up some form of conversation.

“Ya just asked me that.”

“Oh shit, you’re right; my bad.” I chuckled at my forgetfulness.

“How mu—”

“Well I certainly didn’t have anything special in mind. But since you’re here, where would you like to go?”

“Don’t fuckin’ care,” she shrugged, “long as I don’t end up back with the people I used to call ‘friends,’ I wouldn’t care if you kicked me out right here.”

“Why, what happened?” I glanced at her, but kept my focus on the road. We were heading toward a more populated section of town which I suddenly remembered was known for having a heavy police presence.

“I don’t wanna talk about it…”She looked out the side window.

“I’m a total stranger, you don’t have to be embarrassed. You can talk about it if you want.”

“I don’t want to. And I’m callin’ bullshit on ya.” She tossed an accusing look toward me. “You wouldn’t tell me some…something embarrassing about you.”

For whatever reason, the only embarrassing thing I could think of was the current condition of my undergarment. At that moment, I was completely regretting my choice to wear a diaper; I didn’t have a shot with her in this soggy thing, but I might if I was dressed normally. The decision was already haunting me, and she didn’t even know about it.

I kept my mouth shut as the office buildings sped past. They were dark except for a few, and in a minute; far behind us. Buildings gave way to trees as we entered the pine forest at the edge of town. I put my foot down a little harder.

“Humph!” she said after a minute.


“I was right, you won’t tell me…”

“Tell you what?” I scratched my head out of habit.

“I was thinking you were gonna tell me something about yourself.”

“Like what?”

“Like something embarrassing. I’m a total stranger; it doesn’t matter, right?” she said with a giggle.

“If I told you what embarrassed me right now, you’d probably think I’m fucked in the head or something.”

Now why the fuck did I just blurt that out!? I knew I should have left the whiskey alone.

“What?” She looked genuinely interested and confused.

“Never mind.” I already knew she wouldn’t be swayed so easily.

Great, now I’m gonna have to tell her. I should’ve just kept my mouth shut.

“See? Ya say I shouldn’t be embarrassed, but ya won’t even tell me yer own secret.” She tossed her head back haughtily; the beer following a similar motion to her lips.

“Aw nah,” I shook my head with exaggerated motion. “It ain’t like that. This just ain’t the right time for it.”

“Speaking of uh…” she began looking around, as if trying to find something, “…not a good time. I gotta pee.”

I noted that we were currently between neighborhoods, deep in the forest. A spinning sensation made me wish I hadn’t shaken my head so hard. At the mention of it, I also noted my own need to relieve myself. The warmth between my legs followed quickly; the alcohol in me overpowering my natural resistance with ease.

“How’s that for embarrassing?” She began holding one hand between her legs, the other still holding her beer, now nearly empty.

If only you knew…

“We’re a few miles from the next stop.” I was vaguely aware of where we were, but I was pretty sure there was a gas station somewhere ahead. “Just—”

“You guys are lucky,” she chucked the bottle out the window, “y’all can just piss in the woods.”

“That’s not a very ladylike thing to say.” I teased.

“You sound like my mother.” she said with a huff.

“And didn’t your mother ever tell you not to talk to strangers?”

“Shut up.”

For a minute, she sat with her arms crossed. Then she began to fidget.

I sped up a little, hoping she wasn’t too desperate.

“How much farther?”

“Couple miles,” I shrugged.

“Pull over!”


“Pull over,” she said sternly, “or do you want me to really piss on your seat?”

I complied immediately, and she opened the door as soon as we stopped moving.

“And don’t’cha dare look!” She turned around to point a commanding finger at me. In a second, she had disappeared toward the rear of he car. “…Don’t really matter I guess, ye’re jus’…” Her voice faded away behind sound of the idling car.

While waiting, I took another gulp of whiskey; probably unnecessary, but fuck that! Apparently that gulp contained the specific knowledge of something funny to do, because I immediately hatched an idea that I knew would be hilarious. Setting the bottle down, I pulled the car back into drive and bumped the gas to make it lurch forward.

With passenger window still open, I could easily hear her squeal loudly. “Aww! You fucker!” As before, her insult didn’t have a truly angry tone, rather an annoyed one.

I began chuckling to myself.

After a few seconds, I heard grumbling quickly approach the open door. “Alright, smart-ass!” Her voice grew louder with each step, finally she poked her head in from outside. “I just pissed all over my leggings and heels because of you!”

I couldn’t help but burst into roaring laughter. I think she was really trying to look genuinely angry, but the corner of her mouth kept turning up, further fueling my enjoyment; I continued to laugh uncontrollably.

“Hardy fucking har!” She rolled her eyes.

When I could finally breathe again, I punched the trunk release button. “Just toss ‘em inn’a trunk!”

As soon as I heard the trunk slam, I took my foot off the brake and let the car start rolling forward.

“Hey!” she yelled.

Still chuckling, I stopped the car, figuring I had played enough jokes for the time being. She climbed in quickly and away we sped.

Soon we were approaching the next crossroads; sure enough, there was a gas station on the right. She seemed suspiciously silent.

“So,” she began at length, “there’s an axe and a bag of giant diapers in your trunk…” She turned to look at me.

Fuck! Shit! Motherfucker! I fucking forgot those were back there! Fuck me!

She kept staring at me as I slowed and stopped in front of the solitary gas station. If this wasn’t a giant red flag for her, then nothing would be. I didn’t even care, I had already accepted the fact that this trip was over; in a minute she’d be climbing out and I’d be heading home alone.

“The axe,” I said with a sigh, “I was using at my brother’s house to help with some landscaping.”

She didn’t respond.

“But that’s…that ain’t what you’re interested in, is it?”

She shook her head.

It wasn’t meant to be. None of this was planned anyway. She’s probably already figured it out. Screw it, there’s nothing to hide; I’ll just tell her.

“What if I told you they were for me?”

For a second she said nothing, then her expression lightened to a wide smile. “Very funny,” she laughed.

I didn’t say anything.

In another few seconds, she realized I wasn’t laughing or smiling. “Wait, are you serious?”

“Yes.” I stated flatly.

Again, she burst into giggling. “I’m sorry,” she leaned back. “I jus’ can’t imagine you wearing a diaper.”

In response, I lifted my shirt, revealing the several inches of colorful material that climbed above my pants.

“Oh shit!” Her tone was surprised, but suddenly serious. “Yer wearin’ one right now.”

I gestured to the gas station. “If you ain’t okay with that, you don’t have to stay.” Even I could hear the disappointment in my voice. This was definitely goodbye, all because I was a moron.

For a second, she just stared at me. I lowered my shirt and her eyes raised to mine. “I don’t judge. If ya need—”

“I don’t need ‘em.” I cut her off.


I hung my head in shame. “I just like wearin’ ‘em.”

There was an extended silence.

I watched as she looked down at my lap, then to me, then away from me. First her shoulders began to jiggle. Next, her whole body began to bounce slightly. Finally, her giggling became audible.

“That’s really cute!” she exclaimed amidst laughter, “I’m sorry,” she tried to calm herself.

“Sorry?” I stammered, unsure what to make of her response.

“Yeah,” she began, finally finished laughing. Still smiling widely, she turned to me. “I hope you’re not pissed off.”

“Why would I be?”

“Because I laughed at’chu, duh!”

It didn’t make any sense to me at all. I couldn’t see any reason why she wouldn’t be appalled and disgusted. But if she was okay with me, I was just gonna roll with it. I took a deep breath, then sighed. “As long as ya don’ think I’m a pervert—”

“As long as ya ain’t gonna kill me with that axe,” she said teasingly.

“I told you—” I began, but was cut off.

“Whatever!” She sat upright and faced forward. “At least you don’ need to take bathroom breaks.”

I said nothing. I couldn’t tell if that was a joke made in ignorance, or whether she knew I actually used them.

She looked back at me and rolled her eyes. “I’m kidding! Sheesh!”

I offered a sheepish grin, still unsure of the nature of her joke.

“Just drive,” she waved her hand dismissively, “unless those diapers make you too much of a baby!”

I pulled the car back into drive. “Not in the least.” I enunciated, slamming the gas to emphasize the last ‘t.’

I had three options; left, straight, or right. Left and right would lead back to where we came from, but were likely to be empty roads. Going straight meant taking a road that was frequently camped-out by police, but it led to the next town. With a squeal of tires, we blasted through the four-way stop. I went straight, figuring we’d be fine if we didn’t get pulled over.

“Can I have another beer?” she asked after a minute.

I got her one. “Sure.”

“So ya lied?” she asked nonchalantly.

“About what?”

“About being embarrassed in front of a stranger.”

“What’cha mean?”

“I mean you look really embarrassed.”

“I’m not so much embarrassed; I’m just worried you’ll think I’m a pervert or a pedo or something.”

“So why do…does it matter what I think?” I could see her turning up the bottle out of the corner of my eye.

“Because I’m a guy, and you’re pretty, and I like you.” I blurted out, finding this admission almost as uncomfortable as my last. “Any guy would.”

“Would what?” Her voice echoed in the bottle.

“Care what’cha think.” I felt around beside me for the whiskey.

She scoffed loudly. “Apparently not.”

“What’cha mean?” I picked up the bottle, then set it back down.

“Never mind.”

“Don’t tell me never mind.” I warned.

“Well you said never mind earlier,” she retorted.

“But I just told you what the never mind was about.” I squinted as headlights passed us. “It’s… uh oh.”

I saw the passing car’s brake lights glow and I checked my speed; seventeen over. I hadn’t been able to see what kind of car they were driving. I looked at the mirror to see the other car turning around. It disappeared as we rounded a bend.

“What is it?” she asked, looking over the seat.

“Cops I think.” I watched the mirror as flashing blue began to light up the surrounding trees. “Fuck! Yeah, it’s the cops.” I began to let off the gas.

“So that’s it then!?” she sounded annoyed.

“So what’s it?” I asked.

She snatched the whiskey and took a gulp. “You’re just gonna stop?”

I knew better, I really did. Even with all the booze in me; I knew better.

“Come on ya pussy. Get us outta here!” Her tone, her grin; it was just too convincing.

“Just remember that this was your idea.” I grumbled, punching the gas and launching us forward.

“WOOHOO!” she screamed in excitement.

The engine roared as our speed climbed higher and higher. A left hand corner threw her into the door and the ‘A’ pillar, but I was on the gas again, sending her into the seat as she grasped for something to hold.

“Hold on tight!” I gripped the wheel and spun it to the right. The car followed suit, but she tumbled across the seat, stopping only as she collided with the cup holder.

She clung to it for dear life, laughing and screaming as we rocked through several more turns.

Here, the road became straight for more than a mile. I could see tiny arrow signs in the distance, but it didn’t look like a very tight corner. At that moment, I certainly wasn’t regretting my purchase of a fast car. Our speed climbed ever faster on the downhill, and we were quickly over a-hundred miles per hour. The engine’s roar had grown to a deafening scream.

She gripped even more tightly as the dark woods flew past with frightening speed. The next turn was fast approaching.

I could see the pursing vehicle in my mirror, but he was pretty far back. Shoving her away, I pointed to the handle above her window. “Grab that and hold on!” She obeyed just in time as we reached the corner. I had to slow a little, but was back on the gas—hard—as we pulled through the turn. Tires squealed and begged for mercy; I had to use every inch of road available as the car was heavy and not very nimble.

Each following turn saw the blue lights growing more and more distant. We were losing him, but not fast enough; I knew I couldn’t outrun his radio. Fortunately, I also knew there were several tight turns coming up, and among them were several side roads that led into various neighborhoods. At the second one, I slammed the brakes and threw the car into the corner. I was a little too early and we slammed through a pothole on the shoulder.

“Fuck!” I shouted; we lost traction and started skidding.

The car hopped, and us with it; sliding all the way to the other side of the road where it dipped into the shoulder again before I could correct it. The engine was roaring, the tires shrieking, and she was yelling every swear she could think of as we rocked from one side to the other. We barreled through another turn and houses suddenly appeared. I stomped the brakes when I saw a dense row of trees by the road. Jerking the car into reverse, I quickly backed in behind the trees and killed the lights.

For several seconds, we sat in the relative silence of heavy breathing and the idling engine. The seconds eventually grew to minutes and we began to calm down. I was still gripping the wheel, and had my hand on the shift-lever in case we needed to take off again.


“Man, I thought we were gonna die back there,” she said, giggling. “I saved the wick—whiskey though.”

“Well, it was your idea.” With my window down, the rush of air against my face was refreshing, but my heart was still racing. I needed a drink to calm me down. “Gimme that.”

“Hol’ on.” I heard the cork pop, and her take a gulp. “Here ya go!”

I fumbled around in the dark until my hand touched the bottle she was holding toward me. After a generous swig, I handed it back. That was exactly what I needed. At this point there wasn’t even any burn, just the smooth sensation of liquid happiness.

“So where’re we goin’ now?” She began to mess with the radio.

“Same place as before, jus’ takin’ a different road.” I looked over at her as she played with the buttons on the dash. “What’cha tryin’a listen too?”

“Whatever ya had playin’ before!” The CD ejected and she grabbed it. “And where were we goin’ before?”

“Gimme that, you’re puttin’ yer fingers all over it!” I wiped the CD gently on my shirt before sliding it back into the dash. Immediately, the pounding drums and violent guitar assaulted the air with its aggression; I smiled and leaned back.

“Really? This is what’cha listen to?” I could hear the disbelief in her voice.

“What’s wrong with it?” I turned the volume down.

“Nothin’, it’s just weird for someone who wears diapers.”

“Oh? Were ya expectin’ nursery rhymes or something?”

“Uh, kinda,” she giggled, then burst into roaring laughter.

“I can change it if you like,” I reached toward the controls.

“No!” she blurted, swatting my hand away. “Leave it; it’s interesting, it makes me wonder.”

“Oh yeah, about what?”



“Mmm hmm.”

“What about me?”

“Uh, never mind.”

Joining in the laughter, I saw her turning up the bottle again, and I put my hand out as she passed it to me. I took a swig and set it back in the cup holder. Ignoring the fact that the bottle was half empty, I cranked the volume up, way up.

“WOOHOO!” she yelled over the noise.

I smiled, immensely enjoying the noise and velocity. Wind on my face, music, engine, girl; now that’s something worth smiling for.

“STEP ON IT!” she yelled over to me, “I WANNA GO FASTER!”

I obliged, sending the speedometer deep into the straight-to-jail range. Fuck it, we’re having fun.

“HEY!” she shouted, then turned the music down. “Hey.”

“Yeah?” I put the windows up most of the way, quieting the noise.

“Never mind!” She burst into giggles again.

I couldn’t stop my wide grin from spreading. “Ya sure are giggly when you’re drunk!”

She seemed to be deep in thought, or completely oblivious to the fact that I had just said something. Either way, she stared straight ahead and didn’t answer for a while. All of that was totally fine to me, I was just enjoying the drive.

“Hey!” she spoke a lot louder than was really necessary.


“Do ya pee in your diapers?” She barely managed to get the question out before she began giggling again.

“O’course, that’s what they’re for after’all.”

Whoops, that came aw fuck it; she already knows.

Naturally, my response sent her into another fit of giggles and laughter.

Another several minutes passed in silence. Actually, it was anything but silent after she turned the music back up.

I heard her mumble something indistinct.

“What?” I looked over at her.

“Never mind!” she sang, dissolving into giggles.

I rolled my eyes.

Slowly her giggling subsided, but it couldn’t have been more than a couple minutes before I heard I heard it again.

I just chuckled to myself.


“Yes, what is it?” I humored her, certain of what she’d say next.

“Uh…” She seemed quieter this time, more serious. “I can’t say—” Once again, her giddy laughter mocked me.

“Whatever.” I shrugged dismissively. But I thought I heard her mumble something else. “Huh?”

“I said FUCK IT!” she yelled back in a lighthearted but declarative tone.

I laughed at the sudden change. “What’re ya even talkin’ ‘bout?”

She mumbled something completely indiscernible.

“Girl, yer drunk as shit!” I chuckled.

“I SAID I WANNA WEAR A DIAPER TOO!” she shouted at the top of her lungs, then added more quietly, “there, I said it.”

I looked at her. Her face was blazing red, whether from alcohol or embarrassment, I didn’t know. Several seconds later, it registered what she actually just said. “Wait, really?” I blurted.

I was barely able to make out the confirmation through all her giggling.

“Are ya sure?”

“Yeah, hurry up!”

“Alright, but we’re inn’a middle of the woods—”

“So, pullover!” she blurted, cutting me off.

I slowed and pulled into a patch of wide gravel.

“Well don’ jus’ sit there, go get one.” She started giggling again.

I climbed out and stumbled to the back of the car. Finding the trunk locked, I made my way clumsily back to the driver’s door, reached in, hit the trunk release, and then stumbled again to the back. Grabbing a diaper from my bag, I looked around; it was completely dark. I knew that my own diaper was absolutely soaked at this point, so I set the clean one down, quickly lowered my pants, and peeled the tapes lose from my current garment. Wadding it up, I slung it into the woods as hard as I could. Next, I grabbed the fresh diaper and quickly unfolded it. Using the back of the car for support was a little clumsy, but I managed to bring the diaper between my legs and fasten it at least somewhat securely. The legs felt tight, so I was pretty confident that I wouldn’t leak if I used it some more, which I definitely planned on doing.

Grabbing another of the fresh diapers, I returned to my seat, and tossed the diaper over to her.

“What do I do with this?” She turned the colorfully printed garment over in her hands.

“Put it on. That’s what you wanted, right?”

She began chuckling nervously.

“What?” I asked after a few seconds of silence.

“I don’t know how…”

I just stared at her, the interior light emphasized the shadow she was trying to shrink into.

The diaper flopped and crinkled as she held it out. “You gotta put it on me!”

This couldn’t be real! I was amazed enough that she tolerated my wearing them, but to try them herself!? Even more, she wanted me to put it on her; I didn’t bother asking her again. “There’s err… more room inn’a back seat.”

I climbed out of the car and opened the rear door to find that she had tumbled over the back of the front seats. With her laughing uproariously, it was rather difficult to get her untangled and laid out on her back. Eventually, we managed to get her properly situated, and her merriment quieted to a nervous chuckle as I reached toward her.

My hands slid up under her skirt and I flipped it up for better visibility. She whined pitiably as I grabbed her panties, but she didn’t resist as they slid down her legs. We met eyes as I reached for the diaper. Any shaky nerves I may have possessed were numbed by my drunkenness. I tried to be smooth and gentle, but I doubted my success. Regardless, I was soon folding the front of the diaper up between her legs. Once the tapes were secured, I lowered her skirt and retreated.

She just lay there for a while, staring down. Even with her brow furrowed in concentration, she seemed to be enjoying herself. Still, I was half-expecting her to suddenly change her mind; she did nothing of the sort.

“OH MY FUCKING…HNNNG!” she squealed loud enough to stab even my dulled senses. “IT’S JUST SO…” she trailed off for a second, hugging herself and feeling all around her waist.

I backed out of the door and stood up, laughing the whole time. I needed to catch the door to stop myself from stumbling into the road. “So-ya… D’ya like ‘em?”

She wiggled her hips a bit, then looked up at me. “FUCK YEAH I LIKE ‘EM!”

“C’mon then ya little…uh…let’s go.” I slung the back door shut and climbed back into my seat, behind the wheel. A foot—thankfully unshod—caught me in the back of the head as she rolled over, into the front seat.

“Shit,” she squealed after ending up head-down in the floorboards, “help!”

I dragged her up, but by now she was laughing uncontrollably. Eventually, and with my help, she managed to find a seated position once more. I put the car in drive and dug two deep holes in the gravel. The scattering of stones gave way to the squealing of tires and the car twisted as first one wheel, then the other caught pavement. We were on our way again.

For a few minutes, she just stared down at her lap.

“Sooo…” she slurred, after some time.

I honestly thought she was just mumbling nothing and didn’t answer.

“So whaddoo I do if I gotta go?” she raised her voice and turned toward me.

I laughed, “Just go. T’swhatit’s for, right?”

“Yeah but I dunno if I…oooh,” she paused to gasp. “Ohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh!”

I looked over to see her looking down.

“Aaah.” she sighed heavily and slouched.

“Ya figgerit out yet?” I chuckled at her.

She didn’t say anything for a couple minutes. I noticed that she was swaying significantly with each corner. Despite being unable to sit up straight, she found a way to down some more whiskey, offering the bottle to me after she was done.

I obliged, and only after putting the cork back, looked back at the road. It was too late to realize I had even been looking away for so long, but I was pleased to find that we had not crashed. I steered us back into our lane and set the bottle in the floorboards.

She continued to sway without saying a word.

A random thought hit me, a remembrance of something I had, but never made use of. I grabbed the center cup holder and folded it up. The front seats were now a single bench seat. My opportunity came with the next hard right corner.

“C’mere!” I put my right arm out and jerked the wheel with my left.

She was thrown into my side where I caught her. I slid my arm over her shoulder and she leaned harder against me. I felt her head against my own shoulder; and somewhere, drowned by all the noise, I thought I heard her sigh.

“Isn’t that better?” I asked rhetorically.

She mumbled something in response; I couldn’t quite make it out.

I no longer regretted buying a car with bench seats. In fact, bench seats were now my favorite feature.


The dense woods eventually gave way to rolling fields of wheat and soy. Moonlight bathed us in its pale glow and distant headlights flicked on and off as they rose and fell with the landscape. The air was cool, but not chilly; even with all the windows down again. The car roared over wind and music, throbbing louder still as the road straightened and we picked up speed.

Far in the distance I saw the orange glow of the next city; our destination, but I couldn’t even remember its name.

“Yawannanotha’ drink?” She pulled away for a second, leaning forward to feel around for the bottle.

“Sure,” I put my hand on her back and rubbed her lightly. I was trying to remember the rest of what I was going to say; I gave up.

I felt her start to jiggle a bit, she said something but I couldn’t hear it very well.

“Shay what now?” I leaned toward her.

“UP!” came the muffled, but obviously aggravated response.

I leaned farther and grabbed her shoulder, pulling her back to a seated position.

“You dick!” She glared at me. “Don’ hol’ me— AAAOOHSHIT!”

We were bathed in light and I snapped my head forward just in time to see someone flashing their high-beams at me. I couldn’t see the road for the light, but it looked like we were going to crash into each other; I jerked the wheel to the right. I slammed the brakes and a horn blared as we swerved. The car twisted as we transferred from pavement onto who-knows-what. Everything spun around rapidly.

I saw tail lights whiz by. The girl at my side was gripping my right arm with all her strength; I couldn’t grab the wheel. More things spun past in a blur and I heard gravel being slung in all directions; we were fucked and I knew it.

Next stop, hospital or grave?

With a sudden lurch and the bark of tires, I found myself staring down the center of the road. I gripped the wheel in my left hand and corrected the car back to our lane. By some absolute miracle we didn’t wreck. Instead, we were back on the road as if nothing happened.

She was still screaming when I burst out laughing. I took her a second or two, but her screams faded as she joined me in hysterical laughter and disbelief. Neither of us said a word until we had calmed down and stopped laughing.

“I…” She took a few breaths. “I peed again.”

“You c’n leggo now.” I noticed that she was still clutching me tightly.

“Mmm I don’wanna.” She let go of my arm, but then hugged me around the chest.

I put my arm over her. “I’mma find a place ta’ stay.”

“Mmph,” was her only response.

“Should’a been…er. I think there’s one up ahead.” I didn’t even expect a reply.

I wasn’t surprised to be correct.

We needed to stop somewhere, that much was certain. I could hardly keep my head up and things were beginning to streak and blur. I just hoped we could find a hotel before I passed out.


It took us some time, but we managed to get inside, find the elevator, remember how to use the buttons, remember our room number, and finally remember that room 154 was probably on the first floor anyway. I’m not going to make excuses, I was drunk off my ass; but those card readers on hotel room doors never worked properly in the first place. Finally, after several minutes of giggling, I opened the door and we made our way into the darkened room.

It was only then, as she stumbled ahead of me, that I realize her skirt had ridden up somehow, leaving a decent portion of her diaper exposed. Even while wearing my whiskey-glasses in a dark room, it was plain to see that her diaper was also soaking wet. I dropped my bag on the ground, chuckling with amusement as it thudded in perfect time with the door slamming behind me.

Man, I hope no one saw her like that.

She spun around twice before losing her limited balance and crashing on the bed. “Mmm,” she mumbled without opening her eyes.

I’m fairly certain she was just enjoying herself and wouldn’t have said anything, even if she could. It looked to me like she was just gonna go to sleep, so I left her there and grabbed another diaper. Mine, of course, was also soaked again. I quickly discarded my pants and soggy diaper, and with a series of motions that I was intimately familiar with, replaced my wet diaper with a dry one. After downing a couple plastic hotel cups worth of water, I made my way back to her.

She was still lying in the same spot, arms and legs spread across the bed. However, she was no longer mumbling and humming; I gathered that she had passed out entirely.

I honestly don’t know how I did it, but I managed to change her diaper as well. Had I been thinking straight, I could have retrieved her panties from the car, or even just thrown a blanket over her, but such was not the case. Instead, I dampened a cloth and wiped her down quickly; I barely noticed her quiet moan. Once the diaper was secured, I heard her mumble some gibberish so I offered her a cup of water; I was just trying to be nice.

“Mmm…fff…mmm.” She knocked the cup onto the floor, and wrapped an arm around my neck.

“Hunh?” was all I could manage.

Pulling me closer, I had to crawl partially onto the bed to prevent my hair from being pulled out.

“Lay down…laaay heere.” she slurred.

“I wiz gonna sleep inn’a chair.” I protested in as clear English as I was capable. I was dragged further onto the bed, where I lay on my side next to her. Clearly she was no longer asleep, even if her eyes were still shut.

Immediately she rolled on top and straddled me. “I’mma uh…ya…le’s have funnn.”

“What!?” I exclaimed.

She leaned into my face. “Let’s dooo it!”

“No, yer drunk!” I tried to explain.

For that, I received a slap to the side of my head. “’C’MON, FUCK ME!” she yelled.

“Okay, okay,” I soothed. I really didn’t want to do that to her. I mean, I did, but even in my drunken state I knew better than to do that when she was so completely wasted. My head became the battlefield for my logic and instinct. I wasn’t prepared, I hadn’t planned for this.

“C’mon!” she whined and jostled me, “le-let’sss… I’wanna have fun…”

“Hey…” I soothed as best I could manage. “C’mere.”

I pulled her down close, and she flopped over beside me. I looked at her, we were face to face. She still had her eyes shut, but she was smiling widely.

Decisions, decisions…




I awoke suddenly to a flash of lighting, the peal of thunder, and a yelp from the girl next to me. I was grabbed around the neck and pulled toward her as she squealed, then whimpered.

Moments later, she released me and pulled away. “Sorry! I’m sorry,” she gasped hastily, “just…just startled me; sorry.”

“It’s okay.” I croaked, my throat was dry and my mouth tasted sour. I squinted at another flash of lightning, followed immediately by near deafening thunder. Rain pelted the window relentlessly, illuminated by the gray light of whatever time of morning it actually was. It could be afternoon for all I knew.

Where the fuck are we? Who’s she?

I sat up, almost instantly regretting the quick motion. A throbbing headache followed me as I rose, and I winced at the pain. We had been drinking obviously. I got up and stumbled across the room, my crusty eyelids making it difficult to see. Flicking on the light in the bathroom had me squinting even more as I fought with the cellophane-wrapped plastic cups. I eventually filled one and drained it.

Pool water, yuck.

Lukewarm would have to do. I drained my cup again before filling up the second one. Walking back to the bed, I noticed the pronounced bulk and weight of my soaked diaper.

“Thanks,” she coughed, taking the cup and draining it. She had turned on the bedside lamp, and was now sitting up in bed. Her skirt was notably absent, leaving only a thick diaper to cover her lower regions. The white material was swollen and darkened, announcing its obviously wet condition.

Some stuff was starting to filter back into my head, I remembered running from the cops, putting her in a diaper; what else…?

Lighting lit up the room again, startling me out of my attempted recollection.

“Why am I—” She looked down, poking the bulk between her legs; her question became a statement as—I assumed—she recalled the night before, “I’m…I’m still in a diaper.” She looked up.


“I asked you, didn’t I?” She looked at me nervously.

“Yeah,” I began to worry that this conversation could go south, “I put it on you.”

“Then what’s that?”

I peered over the bed, on the floor lay her skirt and previous diaper. “That’s it, I changed you when we got here.”

“I…then…” she appeared to be doing some mental arithmetic, “…wet the bed, huh?”

I shrugged, “it happens.”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“As much as you drank, it’s not surprising.” I chuckled. “I did too, don’t worry about it.”

Her eyes widened a little; she glanced down, then back up to my face.

For a minute or so, we said nothing. The rain continued to fall heavily as lighting flickered and flashed. More of the previous night began to surface in the mire that was my brain.

“Holy shit…” I sat on the edge of the bed, mumbling to myself as I recalled the true danger I had put us in. I had done everything I’d vowed never to do. Last night had been the only time I was responsible for the care of a woman, and I had endangered her. I should have been protecting her, entertaining her, serving her; but instead I had terrified her, touched her, and almost killed her.


“I nearly killed you! Like…like several times.” I ran a hand through my greasy hair. “Wow, what the fuck was even thinking!?”

I told you.

Not now brain, not now.

“Hey,” she said softly, “it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not okay. I drove like a lunatic, ran from the cops, and completely lost control of the car! We’re lucky to be alive!”

“Running from the cops was my idea,” she sighed.

“No, doesn’t matter.” I shook my head. “I was driving, I’m responsible. I never should have done that; I’m deeply sorry for endangering you.”


“Hell, I’m sorry for…for changing you without asking.” I pointed down at her swollen garment. “I can see now; you don’t really like them at all. I…I’m just sorry for everything.”

“No,” she said calmly, “you were drunk. But I’m glad it wasn’t—”

I looked up when she stopped, she looked worried.

“Did we?” she glanced around, as if checking that we were alone, “did we do anything?”

My eyes widened, where was this going?

“What do you mean?” I asked tentatively.

“You know…” she motioned toward the head of the bed. “Did we do stuff? You know, in bed?”

“No.” I sighed, hoping she would believe me. I couldn’t be sure what she actually remembered.

“Even after what I said?”

I snapped to attention.

She hung her head. “I was coming on to you, wasn’t I?”

I eyed her wearily; she looked up and caught my gaze.

“Don’t worry,” she didn’t break eye contact, “I’m not like that. I’m not trying to accuse you.”

I sighed, perhaps she wasn’t going to hate me after all.

“Thank you,” she hung her head again.


“Thanks for not taking advantage of me.” She looked at me seriously. “You even tried to warn me. You could’ve been anyone. You could’ve raped me. Shit, I was begging for it, literally.”

I said nothing. She was right, she had been begging for it. But she had been really drunk, I should’ve known better than to even pick her up.


“You were wasted, you could hardly walk…”

“But you brought me here, bought us a room, didn’t fuck me even though I begged you to, and even changed my fucking diaper so I…I didn’t piss all over the bed.” She spoke fast; she almost looked like she was about to cry. “No one else would do that for me!”

I tried to speak, but she cut me off again.

“I would’ve ended up with some jerk who’d use me and ditch me after I pissed the sheets… or even before that…” She looked to the window as if in thought. “If they had let me in, that’s exactly what would’a happened. If you didn’t pick me up, the next car would have, and then I’d be fucked.” She turned back to me. “You’re probably the one guy that wouldn’t, so you probably saved me from God-knows-what.”

“Yeah, but I—wait, who didn’t let you in?”

“The club I was trying to get into with some people I know. They didn’t buy my ID.” She shrugged.

“What’s wrong with your ID?”

“It’s fake, duh!” she grinned. “Or was; I threw it out ‘cause it ain’t worth a shit.”

“Fake? How old are you?”

What the fuck did I get into NOW?

“Almost nineteen,” her grinned turned a little sheepish. “So uh, yeah, thanks for not letting the cops catch me drinking.”

Thank fuck she’s at least eighteen.

“Catch you!?” I threw my hands up. “I’m the one that would end up in jail! Drunk driving, supplying a minor, you could’ve said like…like three words, and it’d all be on me.”

“I told you, I’m not that kinda girl, don’t worry about it.”

“Well you could’ve been,” I said, exasperated, “so thanks for not taking advantage of me.”

“Well, I did use you to get booze,” she shrugged, “so there’s that.”

“As long as you don’t—” I began.

“As long as you don’t tell anyone what happened, I won’t either. Let’s just be glad that things didn’t end up worse.”

I let out a long sigh. “I guess…”

The rain was still pouring down, but the thunder and lighting had mostly receded.

She stretched, grabbed her skirt, and stood up. “So…this thing is nasty,” she poked the front of her diaper, “do you have any more?”

“More? You want another!?” I gestured in the direction of the door, “I can get the rest of your clothes from the car.”

How can she want another diaper?

“Actually, I’m pretty sure I remember throwing my panties out the window.” She walked around the bed, making her way toward the bathroom. “Holy shit, this thing is soaked.”

“I don’t remember that…” I scratched my chin, “I can check.”

“No, they’re definitely gone. Do you have any more diapers? I’mma take a shower.” Her voice faded slightly as she walked around the corner, toward the door.

“I’ve got some pull-ups instead; they’re smaller.” I stared blankly at my reflection in the TV, still desperately trying to figure out how neither of us were dead.

“Oh cool, that’ll be fine.”

She can’t be serious.

I fished the pull-ups from my bag, and walked over to the bathroom. She stood in the door, quickly accepting the crinkly item I held. Stunned, I questioned how she could possibly accept another diaper. Surely that was just a drunken impulse. I concluded that she must have some fear for me, that she must think I’m dangerous, that she’s playing along just to keep me calm. It made sense to me; my actions, in review, were probably the telltale signs of a complete psychotic.


I turned toward the hallway door. “I’ll grab—”

“Hey,” she said softly, “thanks…”

“Don’t thank me. You’re in a diaper because of me, you nearly died because of me.”

Her smile faded to a look of concern. “But we didn’t die, and I—”

“You should be with someone who’ll take care of you, not someone who drives drunk.”

“But it was fun,” she attempted a smile, and put a hand on my cheek. Her touch was soft on my skin.

Please, don’t make this hard.

I grabbed her hand gently, and moved it back to her. “It’s not just about fun, you know. You really shouldn’t just run off with strangers to have a good time. I know I sound like a hypocrite for saying that, but it’s true.”

“Relax, it’s fine.” Her smile, her eyes, they were pleading with me; telling me not to go, even if she didn’t know it.

“Just,” I hesitated, knowing what I was about to do, “just think about it, seriously.”

“Okay, I will,” she stepped back. “Let’s talk some more over breakfast, but I really do need a shower first.”

“Sure, go ahead.” I forced my voice steady, nonchalant.

She closed the door, marking the last time I would see her. The click of the latch signified the finality.

I waited until I heard the shower running before retrieving my pants, grabbing my bag and leaving.

I don’t want to do this


Outside, the rain was still coming down in torrents. I had to look around for a few minutes to find my car; I couldn’t remember where we parked. When I eventually found it, I grabbed her leggings and shoes from the trunk, but there appeared to be nothing else of hers. Her jacket and panties were both gone. I grabbed my jacket; she should at least have something to keep the rain off.

The passenger window was down a couple inches and the seat was soaked. I also noticed the empty bottle of whiskey in the door pocket. I figured I should leave it there as a reminder to not be fucking stupid!

Back inside, I threw the jacket on the bed.

She was still showering.

I pulled out my wallet and counted the cash; a-hundred and seventy-six bucks. I set the money on the jacket. Next, I grabbed the complimentary pen and stationary.

I quickly scrawled a note to her.

Sorry to leave like this, but it’s for the best.

Here’s something to hopefully get you home.

Keep it and the jacket.

Sorry I almost killed you.

Try and find someone who won’t do that.

Make sure you take care of yourself.”

I left the note on the jacket. The shower was still running, but I kept quiet and made sure the door didn’t slam behind me.

It’s the right thing to do.


My headache pounded. Each throb was a hammerfall, each step I took quickened and strengthened the throb. Slamming my door might as well have been getting kicked in the head. I leaned back for a moment, letting the rain pelt the outside of my car. I turned the key.

Music blasted at full volume for several seconds before I could silence it.

A loud engine is really shitty right now, I guess it wasn’t a good idea after all.

I didn’t even bother digging out my phone, wherever I left it. I was a mess. Dirty, smelly, unwashed. I figured that no one wanted to smell my diaper.

Drive-through it is.

As if to punish myself, I picked some crappy fast-food joint. Somehow, the person at the window looked worse than I felt. Of course, I was far too distracted to pay attention, otherwise I would have snapped back at their bad attitude.

After sipping the watery coffee and taking a bite of the half-frozen, half-scalding ‘thing’ called a sausage biscuit; I fished my phone out from the back seat. Evidently it had fallen between the cushions last night. As expected, there were several missed messages from my boss. I really didn’t want to call him yet; I hadn’t thought up an excuse.

No excuse needed, just tell him I was really sick last night and overslept.

I choked down some more of the ‘food.’ It was somehow both dry and soggy at the same time.

“Fuck it, I’ll call him after…”


And that’s when it hit me. That’s when I knew what I’d done wrong. It took me that fucking long to realize my mistake. I threw all of the tasteless, sickening shit I’d been trying to eat, out the window.


Dragging the car into reverse, I pulled out of the parking spot, slammed through a pothole in the entrance, and sped back toward the hotel.

First spot by the door, handicapped spot; fuck it. I jumped out and stormed inside.

“Morning sir, how may…?”

I ignored the clerk and jogged back up the hall to our room—well, the room we stayed in. There was a cleaning cart next to the door. I rapped the knocker vigorously.

Footsteps came from within. I knocked again.

The door slowly opened. “Hello…” the stocky Latino woman answer hesitantly.

“Where’s the girl that was here!?” I demanded sharply.

“Oh, uh, you check front desk.” she pointed down the hall. “He know…”


I charged back to the front counter, cutting off the clerk as he repeated his previous greeting.

“Room one fifty-four; where’s the other person that was staying there?”

“Sir, I cannot give—”

“I’m the one who rented the room! I paid for it!”

“Sir, it is after twelve. If the room was only for one night, then they should have checked out by now.” His plastered smile and thick accent was making me more than a little pissed off.

“Then did you see a girl in a camouflage jacket?” I said impatiently, “I’m with her.”


“Did. You. See. Her?” I snarled, leaning over the counter. “That’s all I’m asking.”

He stepped back, eyes widening. He glanced away for a second, then warily back, to meet my gaze. “She checked out fifteen minutes ago.”

I left without another word.

It’s not about me, it’s about her; this is for the better.

Fuck you, brain.


The long trip home left me with plenty of time to think, but it still seemed inadequate. I just couldn’t wrap my head around it.

Sure, the night before was a good example of just how quickly things could get out of hand; but there was more to it than that. Try as I might, I couldn’t find a lesson in any of it. My foresight turned out to be nothing more than preconception, and even that had been shattered beyond repair. Everything I thought would ruin me had not; but then, what had? I beat on the steering wheel and hurled curses at every mile I passed, but nothing came to me except a stronger headache and a hoarse throat.

Guilt weighed on me for what tragedy could have happened. I felt I escaped the punishment for my foolishness, but in turn was punished for something I didn’t understand. I had found something, something I thought I’d never find. I had found a girl, a woman who accepted me. But instead of laying claim, I left it behind; I left her behind. Now that she was gone, I could never get her back. How could I? I didn’t even get her name. I kept telling myself that it was for the best, that she would be better off without me. Even still, that fact provided little solace for the void I now felt.

For the sake of my sanity, I had to tell myself that everything I thought about her was wrong. She was just drunk, right? That’s the only reason she acted like she enjoyed it, or me. And I had gotten her drunk too, right? It wasn’t her fault, none of it was; it was mine. Like I said, if I could go back and warn myself…but I can’t, and it probably wouldn’t have done any good.

I had to drag my ass to the present…


Ah, here we are.

So here I am, pissed off as hell. I don’t know whether to blame my brain, or the bottle. One part of me says leaving was the right thing to do, another says it wasn’t. One part says it’s about me, another says it’s for her. Brain or bottle, right or wrong, me or her, how the hell am I to know? To solve that riddle, I’ve come up with something clever.

I’ve gotten another bottle—a fifth of whiskey, same as before—and I’ve still got a brain. Tonight I’ll have a little competition. Brain or bottle, one is going to give out first; I’ll use the result to determine where the fault lies… Okay, so maybe it’s not that clever, but fuck it. I had an opportunity, but now it’s wasted; so I guess I’ll be the same.

I’m pulling into the apartment now. It feels so long since I’ve been here, but it was only one night. I can’t even remember why I went out in the first place—I should have stayed home—but maybe it’ll come to me. Maybe, just as soon as…

“…Just as soon as this fucking cab driver stops blocking my spot!”


“Come on!” I pound on the steering wheel. “What? Are ya waiting for the rain to stop!?” I put the window down, “HURRY UP!”

Their rear door opens and someone steps out.

I stare in bewilderment, leaning farther out the window. I try to ignore the rain, but it blurs my vision.

Can it be!?

High-heels, dark leggings, and a short black skirt that’s almost hidden by an over-sized camouflage jacket; she walks toward me quickly. It’s definitely her.

I feel a smile pricking the corners of my mouth. Wild hopes run through my brain, I can’t think of a single word to say.

How did she even find me?

Her eyes look sad and hurt; I know what she’s going to say. Her whole face begs one question, the same question I’ve been asking myself since I foolishly left.


Her expression changes slowly, as if she’s reading my thoughts, and I think she understands. Silently, she accepts my unvoiced apology; her warm smile tells me so with absolute assurance. This was meant to be, I just took too long to realize.

“I’m so, so, sorry.” I need to voice it, I have to be sure she knows.

She holds up a hand to stop me.

I wait.

“It might have been fate that caused us to meet last night, it might’ve just been nothing,” she draws an envelope out of the jacket pocket, looks at it, then back to me, “but it was Chance who led me back here.”

It takes me a few seconds of staring to realize what she’s holding and the cleverness of her words. “Do you believe in destiny?”

Her eyes go wide and she recoils slightly. Still smiling, she answers, “Yes; consider yourself introduced.” She holds out a hand to me.

I reach toward it; our hands interlock.

She drops the letter and it lands in a puddle; I look her in the eyes. Droplets stream down her face as she takes my hand in both of hers. She has to blink several times as she smiles.

I find myself doing the same.

Yeah, it’s the rain, it’s in my eyes too.

Re: Meet Destiny, Wasted Chance

There’s a lot here, and I didn’t get to read all of it yet- I just read up to the part where he’d diapered and decides to go out for more alcohol. But I’m liking it so far. My first impression so far of the main character- he opens up talking about how great he is at planning, and weighing actions and consequences. Yet when we see him in action, we see reality doesn’t live up to his views of himself. This is making him come off as an unreliable narrator, and makes him interesting from the start.

I’m not saying him being unreliable is a reflection of bad writing on your part- just the opposite. It’s very well written. :slight_smile: Those kind of narrators are tricky to handle, but they are so much fun to read. We have to read into what he says, along with what he does. I can’t wait until I have some more time to read the rest! :smiley:

Oh, btw I’m also digging the narration style. Like this line:
I suddenly remembered something important. A quick button press rectified the situation with an absolute cacophony of angry vocals, pounding drums, and excessive distortion.
You’re showing us his state of inebriation- he can’t remember to stop at the post office, but music is at the top of his priority list. So he turns on the radio and plays some hard rock. But the phrasing is so much more vivid and immersing that just “he turned the radio on. Rock music began playing.”

Re: Meet Destiny, Wasted Chance

I gave up at first with them driving all too drunk. Then, after CK’s comment I skimmed haphazardly through the rest. It seems to be a good story, and definitely is well written.

Re: Meet Destiny, Wasted Chance

Could you help me out with why exactly?

I was struggling wth pacing that section correctly. I’m not sure if I found the right balance between keeping the action moving, while still presenting enough meaningful interaction. It would help me greatly if I knew what made you give up.

Was the ‘drunk talk’ too over the top?
Do things feel too forced?
Was it just not interesting?

Any and all feedback is appreciated, so thanks for the comment.

Cute Kitten. I was able to breathe a huge sigh of relief after your comment. :slight_smile: I’m glad to know that even some of it came across as intended.

Thanks, both of you, for reading and replying.

Re: Meet Destiny, Wasted Chance

I had a similar reaction, actually. I can’t speak for ally, but for me it was strictly a subject matter problem. I think it was written well (as far as I got), but it was just not fun to read. Maybe an issue of mixing in too much unpleasant reality with the fantasy?

It wasn’t just the drunk driving, but some of the narrator’s behavior toward the woman could be viewed as abusive or dangerous by an objective third-party observer. We know he’s not serious, he’s just being funny and screwing around because we can see his thoughts, but I couldn’t help wonder what that looked like from the woman’s perspective, or from someone else watching. It just wasn’t material I was particularly comfortable with, and so I decided to stop reading. Just like some folks don’t like dark, unfair-ending stories, this just isn’t for me.

Re: Meet Destiny, Wasted Chance

Similar to Peter Rabbit, it was a subject matter issue. The point when I gave up was when he started to get really reckless. There’s nothing wrong with the writing, and I’m glad everything came out all right in the end. The way to get me back is to take your fine writing abilities and write something else.

Re: Meet Destiny, Wasted Chance

I finished reading it at work, but I didn’t comment since my phone’s an ass and loves to eat my posts. The subject matter didn’t put me off (but then, my non-abdl reading consists of some pretty twisted stuff). I thought the pacing was fine, particularly during the action sequences- you don’t want to bog an action scene down with unnecessary details or excessive setting description, which you didn’t do. Yet you still want to show, don’t tell, which you handled well.

My impression of the characters overall is they’re both alcoholics, possibly with some other problems. It’s one thing for young people to go drinking and do some stupid stuff whilst drunk- just driving counts as that. They both exhibited levels of recklessness that would go beyond just being drunk and stupid. For the girl, her just jumping into the car and asking for a ride from a stranger, then staying in the car after he pulled that rape joke. She’s never seen him before-he could be a rapist or a serial killer for all she knows- so her staying and laughing comes across not as “oh, I just met this guy but he seems nice and funny for a drunk”, but more like she finds him an exciting rush. Her behavior is almost suicidal in her disregard for her safety. Like, these are people whose lives are falling apart/ already fell apart and they’re on their way down to rock bottom.

For him, it was running from the cops- at her urging, and continuing to drink whilst driving. That’s easy enough to understand- drunk young man under the thrall of lady bits. I do think she has more problems/ issues than he does, and I don’t mean just being a drunken thrill-seeker. I didn’t pick up any clues (possibly I just missed them) about what her issues may be, but just judging by her behavior, she’s got 'em. :stuck_out_tongue:

I felt a little bit of dissonance with the characters between their drunken escapades and the events after. They didn’t break character or anything, I just got the impression their antics were just supposed to be a chance meeting on a wild night…that led to them falling in love. I think the level of wild was a bit too “wild” for me to take it as just a normal guy and gal out drinking and painting the town red. It was the kind of wild I’d expect to see on Cops with the town drunks getting arrested or known lawbreakers/ trouble makers. Or, for the guy at least, something in him snapped.

Re: Meet Destiny, Wasted Chance

This has been very eye-opening.
I hate to say it, but I’m kinda glad that some of you didn’t like it. That at least means that I did accomplish what I set out to do, in a certain regard. I just really want to make sure that if something is unpleasant, it’s because of the content, and never because of poor writing.

So I do have to apologize a bit for dumping such a thing in here without any warning.
Perhaps I could tag this with something appropriate, that would warn readers who wish to avoid such themes. Any ideas as to what might work, without giving it away entirely?

And thanks again for reading, especially if it wasn’t to your liking.
I can’t reiterate enough, how much your feedback means to me. Y’all are what makes this forum great.

I do plan to make my next work a bit more on the light-hearted side.

Re: Meet Destiny, Wasted Chance

Personally, I don’t mind starting a story and then stopping if it’s not to my liking, I don’t necessarily need a warning ahead of time. Other people’s mileage may vary, of course.

Weirdly, I do like dark ageplay or regression stories (including many of Long_Rifle’s unfair endings), but this felt different for me. Maybe because the recklessness wasn’t directly related to the ageplay or regression, and it seemed to come and go without a consequence for the bad decisions, but I’m not entirely sure. Characters who make bad diaper-related decisions and then get trapped or punished by their bad judgment are a staple of the genre, of course; here, there’s recklessness and bad decisions that somehow still manage to work out for the best, without much character growth or development in that area. I skimmed the rest of the story without reading closely, but it seemed like the narrator ended up in a place where if the entire sequence happened again, he would make the same bad choices without really learning anything from the experience.