The Walk of Shame

This is just something I could not get out of my mind. I am still on hiatus until the beginning of December, but I couldn’t stop myself from writing this story. I will put out new chapters of Life and Death Choices Made Casually after that time. As always feed back is appreciated.

The Walk of Shame

by Write and Left

My most embarrassing moment stretched out for the whole morning of November 1 when I woke up in the grass lawn of an apartment complex about twelve blocks from where I live. I was still wearing my Silk Spectre costume, but I was missing my shoes, gloves, and stockings.

The missing accessories should have been the last thing I noticed because I was also cold and wet. Not only that, but when I sat up, my butt felt something warm and squishy. I felt my bottom and sure enough there was a massive load of poop in my pants. Peeing had made it soft and it some of it has dirtied my thighs. I looked around, but I was alone in the grass and I had none of my things around me.

I remembered that I’d taken off my gloves and stockings at the party. I met a really hot guy there too and I had quite a few drinks. After all, it was one of the few times in college I had time to drink with studies and jobs getting in my way. The weekend had been pretty free for once.

The front of my costume was clean, but I had also thrown up in the grass, my hair was a ratty mess and not the usual silky brown texture I was used to. My purse, cell phone, and wallet were also gone. I couldn’t call my roommate, I couldn’t use my bus pass, and I couldn’t even take a Kleenex and wipe the poopy brown smears from the inside of my thighs. The only thing I could do was to walk home. Did I also mention I still had to pee?

I stood up and walked to the edge of the grass. A few people caught a glance at me and stared. I guess it is not everyday people see a disheveled woman wearing a Halloween costume who has pooped herself. Especially on the day after Halloween.

“Just twelve blocks,” I said. I gingerly stepped onto the apartment complex’s gravel driveway and winced as the rocks bit into my bare feet. Each step was like a painful jolt and I remembered the un-sanitized non-Disney version of the Little Mermaid where each step was like knives and daggers. At least she had clean underwear when the Sea Hag gave her legs.

I finally made it to the sidewalk and started to walk. It was still residential, but it was a college town and students lived in the various apartments and rental houses in the neighborhood. I thought most of them would be drunkly asleep in their beds, but I saw many of them out. The fact that I saw them meant that they saw me and my face felt flush with embarrassment. A few passing cars honked at me and some guys jeered out their car windows, but most people left me alone.

The most terrifying part of my journey was when I got to the busy street dividing the side of the small town where I lived from the side where the party occurred. The busy street was filled with college bars, small stores, and lots of restaurants. I winced as I passed the local bank and saw that it was already 11:05. I shivered under the 50 degree morning and I walked as quickly as I could past while enduring the gazes of the people who were opening up their stores for the day.

I had to pee still and I had to stop every ten feet to cross my legs. “Just pee,” a girl my age said. “You’re already a wreck.”

I thought about it, but I didn’t want to in front of all those people, but it was starting to spurt out as I walked. As soon as I got past the stores, I stopped holding and I started wetting my pants again.

The bottoms of the cotton panties because warm as the pee filled the PVC material of my costume and then began to run in brown and wet rivulets down my leg as it mixed with the mess in between my legs.

I continued onward and received a few stares. One girl came out of her house and grinned. “You’re taking the Walk of Shame to a whole new level, aren’t you?”

I looked at my feet and saw the brown smears on my legs and just cried some more.

“I’m sure that was a nice Watchman costume yesterday evening,” she acknowledged. “Too bad it had to get ruined.”

I had wanted to wear it to a comic book convention I was going to that January, but I couldn’t wear it now. My load had stretched the PVC material of the seat of my costume. I had enough leftover material to recreate it, but that was a week of evenings ruined.

I don’t know how, but I made it to my front door before I got picked up by the police for drunkenness and I was already anticipating the hot shower I soon would be taking. However, the door was locked and a sign read, “No Candy. Go Away.” I would have to have my roommate let me in and that meant she would see me in the state I was in. I cried again as I knocked on the door. Crying wouldn’t help; I was still wearing poopy panties and had pee streaks down my legs. That is misery.

The door opened and my roommate looked me up and down. “What happened to you, Lisa?” she asked. “And where are your keys?”

“I pointed down to myself. I need to get cleaned up,” I said. “I lost my purse and I just don’t want to think about it.”

“Well, I’m not letting you in here like that,” she said and slammed the door in my face.

I stood there speechless. I still had to pee and just let it out again. I turned to sit on the step, but I did not want to sit down and further spread my mess. I tried to think of where else I could go and clean up, when my roommate came from behind the house.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” she said. She led me to the back of our house and I thought she was going to take me in the backdoor, but instead she took me to our patio and told me to strip.

I complied and slid out of my ruined Silk Spectre uniform that I had spent so long working on. I stood there in only my messy panties. I didn’t wear a bra because it would show in my costume.

“The panties too,” my roommate said.

I let them fall on top of my costume and started for the patio door. She caught me by the shoulder and led me back to the grass. “Just stand still,” she said.

I heard water running and my roommate held a hose in her hand. She aimed it toward me.

“No, it’s fifty out,” I yelled before a stream of ice cold water struck me in the face. I shivered. If my nipples weren’t already hard from the cold, they were now. I shrieked and screamed as the stream of water splashed me all over.

She concentrated mostly on my privates and legs, but she gave me a full soaking. “Turn around and bend over,” she said. The cold water washed the last of the poop from my bottom and then she began spraying out my costume and panties. She hung them from the line we use to dry clothes and then she tossed me a towel.

I tried to dry off the best I could, but I was shaking so badly from the cold I could hardly manage. She took the towel from me and dried me off. Then she finally led me inside.

I came out of the bathroom after a long soak in the tub. I still felt miserable, but I wasn’t freezing and better yet, I was no longer poopy. I threw on some sweats and dropped down on the couch to watch some TV.

“So, what happened to your purse? For that matter what happened to the rest of your costume?”

“I don’t know, Becky,” I said. “I had them at the party, then I met a guy and after that, I woke up outside on the grass. I couldn’t even remember the apartment number where the party was.”

She picked up a flyer for a party that was on the coffee table. “Is this it?”

I nodded.

She picked up her cell phone and started to dial the number. “We’ll go get your stuff,” she said.

I took the phone away and pressed the hang-up button. “No, I can’t show my face there.”

“Is your school ID in your purse?” she asked. “You need it to take your exam Tuesday. Remember, they did that since Jordan was caught taking an exam for Reubin.”

“I was humiliated enough on the walk home,” I said. “I really don’t want to deal with this. Apparently they put me outside after I messed myself. I don’t want to face them again.”

She took her phone back and dialed. “Hi is Daren there?” She paused. “My friend left her purse and shoes there last night. Can we stop by and get them?” She listened a bit. “Yeah, like the Silk Spectre,” she said. She listened some more. “Yes I know.” Another pause. “You are really despicable,” she yelled. Another pause. “Yeah, she’ll do it. We’ll be over in an hour.” She hung up.

“What did you promise?” I asked.

At first she didn’t say anything. Then she started. “He said he wouldn’t let you come over and pick up your stuff unless you…” She paused.

“What?”

“You have to come over with an adult diaper under your pants or he won’t give you your stuff back.”

“What?” I asked, feeling betrayed.

“You got to do this if you want to take your test Tuesday,” she said. I took me by the hand and pulled me up. “Let’s go.”

I was reluctant as we walked into the Walgreens. I thought maybe I should just drop out of college and work at my dad’s Burger King. That would be better than a civil engineer. Well, maybe not, but it would be better than going through this humiliation.

I just stared at the floor as Becky led me to the Incontinence section. I didn’t even bother to look at what she selected for me to wear. I just followed her to the cash stand and waited while my purchase was rung up. She, of course paid.

As we got back to her car, she opened the back door for me. Usually I rode shotgun when we traveled. I started to sit down.

“Lay down on the seat,” she said. She pulled off my sweats and panties and diapered me right there in the parking lot. I argued; I complained; and I swore at her, but she was bigger than me and I was eventually diapered.

“You are being terribly ungrateful, Lisa.” She handed me my sweats and I pulled them on. She took my panties and put them in her purse. “You won’t need those,” she said.

I got out of the back seat and sat in the front with her as we drove to the apartment complex where I had my accident. She parked and we got out. She went right up to the door and knocked while I tried to look away.

The door opened and the guy who I thought to make love to last night was there. He laughed at me, but opened the door for me. His roommates sat on the couch and watched me with interest.

“So did you diaper her?” the guy’s roommate asked mine.

My face felt very hot. I just wanted to sink through the floor.

“She pooped her costume when she got on her knees to go down on him,” his other roommate said.

Becky gave me a dirty look, but told the guy, “We did what you said. I diapered her. Will you give her back her stuff?”

He nodded. “Yes, but prove she is diapered.”

Becky pulled my sweats down to the floor and turned back to the guys. “There,” she said. “Are you satisfied now?”

They howled with laughter, but he handed me a box with my purse, my Silk Specter shoes and tights, and my gloves. I put the box down, pulled up my pants, and got my box and fled out the door to Becky’s car.

She followed me and we got in, but she didn’t yet drive away. “Make sure everything is there,” she said.

I checked my purse and found my wallet with my money still in it, my student ID, and my credit cards all there. Even my netbook was still in my purse. I had forgot about that. My papers that were due Monday were on it and I would have been in trouble if I hadn’t gotten that back.

She drove us home and we went back into our house. I carried in my box and she carried in the rest of the adult diapers she had bought for me.

“I’m going to the bathroom and taking this diaper off,” I announced. I stopped by my room for a pair of panties but when I came out Becky was standing in front of the bathroom door.

“No, no, no,” she said. “I paid good money for those adult diapers. You will be wearing and using them until they are all gone.” She took the skeleton key out of the inside of the bathroom door and used it to lock it from the outside. She pocketed the key and smiled.

“But what if I need–”

She held up her hand to shut me up. “Let’s go watch TV.” She turned and walked to the couch.

There are only nineteen diapers left. It’d only be about a week.

Re: The Walk of Shame

…what?

It feels like the first part of the story is missing.

Re: The Walk of Shame

I disagree I think the story works well. It has you wondering what happened, but this is addressed
later in the story. If this had been related in the begining than their isn’t a point in the return to the party house and the humiliation of having to show them the nappies. Apart from gathering the missing items.
Good story is there more to it?

Re: The Walk of Shame

No more to the story. I am working on a larger story. I will return to Life and Death Choices Made Casually in December and I hope to eventually get that finished. That was supposed to go only a few episodes.

I have an idea about how I can revisit Becky and Lisa later. I like the idea and it will be a bit of fun and also a bit lighter than Life and Death. In order of priority will be my non-diaper story, Life and Death Choices, and lastly a return to Becky and Lisa.

Re: The Walk of Shame

I found this a story of forced humiation, and honestly found it gross. For you it was a walk of shame for me it was just a shame.

I am not into being a harsh critic but what was the point of this story.

kenk7us2002

Re: The Walk of Shame

I’m sorry you didn’t like my story, kenk7us. Is it just that you don’t like stories where the main character is humiliated by an accident (a lot of diaper stories here meet that criteria), or do you think there is something inherently gross about how I told the story? You didn’t give me any information about which part you found particularly gross or anything that you would do differently.

Since, you asked, the point of the story was to write. I write to become a better writer just like a pianist plays the piano to be a better pianist. I thought I was writing stories that people enjoyed, but maybe I have to rethink this. Do people not enjoy my stories? Should I just give up diaper stories? They take me away from my real stories about people who don’t wear diapers and still do excited things that do not involve them having accidents.

At least answer these questions: what specifically did you hate about this story and what kind of story would you rather I wrote? I write somewhat coherent sentences and use mostly proper grammar, but I am not a paid writer.

Re: The Walk of Shame

Personally, I don’t think this is a bad story, its not my favorite, but there are parts of it that could happen. Granted there are parts that are unlikely, but its a story. Stories can be anything the writer wants it to be. Grammar and spelling looked good *so many abld stories lack this). So I commend you for a pretty good story.

Re: The Walk of Shame

I wasn’t complaining about the criticism. I just didn’t think that if a story is “not my cup of tea” that I should think I need to criticize the story based on that. There are plenty of excellent writers here that I don’t particularly care for their stories. I will not mention their names because they are valuable here and they are good stories.

I like kenk7us stories and I was disappointed that he took the tone he did when he critiqued one of mine other than by saying that he hated the subject matter and the story was just gross and shameful.

Thanks, powderhair, BJ, and Hepsh for writing comments that were nice.

Re: The Walk of Shame

wow sorry I did not mean it to be so harsh. It was the first story I read on my return.

Your right I probably should of said its not my cup of tea.

Re: The Walk of Shame

personally, I found this story to be quite amusing. someone before said that parts of this story might be a bit unrealistic, and to some degree, I agree with that statement. however, it could still happen based on the sense of humor the guys at the house had… at least, I’m assuming their request was the unrealistic bit.
all in all, I quite enjoyed this story.