ABDL Story Forum

Lock and Key (Chp 1-9, updated 3/14)

I originally posted this just on one other site, but I thought I’d share it in some other places and see if I couldn’t get more feedback elsewhere. It’s my first real attempt at writing an AB/DL story that didn’t have some other theme or plot (That is, an AB/DL themed sci-fi adventure or AB/DL spy thriller,) it’s just pure AB/DL and light bondage content, so I’m eager to get as much feedback as I can in how to improve my style.

Chapter One

“So you’re all checked in and ready to fly?” Jenny asked the computer screen, grinning at the image of her boyfriend from across a couple state lines. “The weather isn’t going to be an issue?”

“They said the storm was clearing up nicely, boarding starts in a couple minutes,” Mike replied, his grin somehow audible through the tinny computer speaker. He was quite a bit taller than the diminutive Jenny - Almost a foot and a half over her, putting him at six foot three, and his short cut brown hair and constant broad smile gave him a constantly charismatic appearance.“Are you excited for me to get home?”

“I always am,” Jenny told him, running a finger under the waistband of her jeans and feeling the metal and plastic beneath it, a slightly foreign object that she’d gotten used to over the past week. “Though maybe this time a little more than usual.”

Mike laughed. “I’d bet. Have you- Oh, it looks like they’re calling for us to start lining up, I’ve got to go. Thank you so much, sweetie, I’ll see you in a couple hours. You’re still picking me up, right?”

“Of course,” Jenny said, nodding even though she was alone in the room. “See you soon.” Mike hung up, leaving Jenny looking at her own image in the webcam for a minute: A redhead with slightly past shoulder length messy hair, a button nose, freckles that stubbornly refused to go away well into her mid twenties and had to be covered up with makeup, and bright green eyes. Of course the webcam didn’t show much from the neck down, or else her small frame, large breasts, and lack of clothing above the waist would have been visible.

This had all started two weeks ago. With Mike’s birthday coming up, Jenny had asked him if he wanted anything special to commemorate the date. It had taken a little coaxing, but after a while she’d finally managed to get him to confess to one of his biggest fantasies.

Jenny had been a little surprised to hear what it was: Chastity was something she’d heard of before, once or twice, but not to the extent that Mike had been talking about. He’d said he wanted to have Jenny totally locked away from herself, not just in a chastity belt, but fully dressed as an innocent little girl, one who he would get to release, one lock at a time, until he had her totally undressed and naked on his bed, pleading for him to take away her innocence.

Of course, Jenny wasn’t innocent. The two of them were both very sure of that, they’d been dating for far too long for there to be any doubt. Furthermore, the idea of being trapped in girlish and juvenile clothes the way he had described wasn’t appealing in the slightest to Jenny, and when he mentioned having on diapers beneath the clothes, Jenny had felt downright grossed out. Even plain chastity play wasn’t exactly her cup of tea, she liked her sex regular and rough, and when Mike was out of town she had no qualms about handling things herself to fill the gap.

In the end, though, her desire to see Mike happy had won out, and she’d compromised. He had a week long business trip that would end the night before his birthday, and so she’d let Mike pick out a chastity belt for her, and the day he left they made a little ceremony of his locking her up, with the promise that he’d return in a week to let her out. It wasn’t quite the whole fantasy he had described, but it was enough to make him plenty happy.

Going a week without sex of any kind had been even more frustrating than Jenny had expected, and she was horny enough to consider buying a pair of bolt cutters by that afternoon, but she knew that Mike would be home in just a couple hours and then he’d help her out with that particular problem.

Of course, Mike didn’t know what the rest of his surprise was just yet, but that’s why it was called a “Surprise.”

In the week while he was gone, Jenny had done some shopping online, a little research, and planned out everything perfectly. She wanted his birthday to be perfect, and so she’d gotten it all planned out just right.

Shutting her laptop and kicking off her jeans so that she was left wearing nothing except the tightly locked chastity belt, Jenny got to her feet and strolled to the bedroom. Her apartment had no windows except in the bedroom, and that one was covered up by blinds and curtains, so she didn’t need to worry about any voyeurs. She just had to get properly dressed, and then she could wait an hour or so and go pick up Mike from the airport. Boy, would he be surprised.

Sliding out a box from underneath her bed, Jenny popped it open and scanned the contents before she saw the first thing she was looking for. Well, the first three things: A trio of thick, white diapers with teddy bears decorating the front. She was told the teddy bears would fade if they got wet, but that wasn’t something she’d ever put to the test, so it was really a moot point. The sample pack had come with three, though, and so all three she would wear: This was a one time thing for Mike after all, no need to be wasteful.

Unfolding the diapers one at a time, she grabbed a tube of baby powder from the box and then laid down on her bed before trying to remember the instructions from the tutorial she’d found online. Two of the diapers had already been scored with a sharp knife on the back in preparation, so those she put on first. Applying a thick layer of baby powder, which made her cough as it clouded up around her, she pulled the first diaper between her legs, folded it over the chastity belt, and taped it snugly in place. A perfect fit, as it turned out. The next diaper went on just as easily, though the third one she had to tug on the tapes a little bit to get it to fit. By the time she was done, her legs were forced several inches apart, and when she sat up to go back to the box she quickly realized that any attempt to walk anywhere would be extremely difficult and probably end up more as a waddle. It was a good thing she only had to make it to her car and to the airport, and then Mike would be able to get her out of everything.

Grabbing the next item from the box, she held it up and paused. Once this went on, there was no going back. It was a pair of pink plastic pants, the kind used to prevent diaper leaks, though this pair had cartoon depictions of ponies on the front and a slot for a small padlock on the back. Jenny had the lock, Mike had the key. Once the cover went on, she’d be at his mercy to get it off - Which was exactly what Mike wanted. The helplessness, as he had explained, was the whole point. So, sighing and slipping the pink cover over her diaper, she tightened the waistband and then with a single, solid “Click”, the diapers were sealed between her legs.

But that wasn’t all, not by a longshot. Jenny wasn’t one to half ass anything, and with the diapers out of the way, the rest of the toys seemed like a breeze. The next things to go on were a pair of lacy pink stockings, with hooks which attached to the plastic pants to keep them pulled up her legs and - of course - locked on. Four quiet “Clicks” later, and those were in place.

Next came the onesie, something resembling a pink T-shirt (With pony designs matching the ones on the plastic pants,) with buttons on the crotch and a zipper up the back. Dangling from a red ribbon just above the breast there was a pink pacifier sized large enough for an adult’s mouth, pinned permanently to the Onesie as well. Jenny tugged it on, buttoned up the crotch, and pulled up the zipper - And, of course, that meant three more small locks. Over that went a pink skirt - Really more of a miniskirt than anything, it was barely six inches long - which also locked into place.

Doing her hair was a particularly fun touch, and one she didn’t even mind all that much: She combed her messy hair, braided it into pigtails, and then used two special pink clips which would also require unlocking to keep the hair braided rather than a ribbon or bow.

Getting near the bottom of the box, she pulled out a pair of white Mary Janes, with small locks hidden on the buckle. That was two more ‘Clicks’, and then all Jenny had left was the collar.

It was pink (Of course,) leather, and a little tight around Jenny’s neck, all of which were up to Mike’s specifications. It even had a small metal nametag on the front, with Jenny’s name stamped in place as well. Once Jenny had that around her neck, one final click of a lock signalled to her that she was all dressed and ready to go.

“Happy birthday, Mike,” She said to herself, checking out the whole wardrobe in a mirror. Standing was awkward - Her legs bowed out like a toddler trying to keep her footing, and even with the onesie keeping everything in place around her waist, the bulk from the triple diapers was enough that it would be impossible to totally conceal. The plastic pants rustled and crinkled beneath the onesie at every movement of her hips or legs, and when Jenny put a hand on the crotch of the diaper and rubbed up and down a couple times, she couldn’t feel a thing beneath all the padding and layers. Between the very girlish clothes, the obvious padding, her hair, and most of all her size, Jenny very nearly could have passed for a genuine toddler, albeit a particularly busty one.

It felt strange, to say the least. While Jenny was free to walk around and do whatever she liked, she was still trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey, and there was almost nothing she could do about it until Mike’s flight came in. He was going to love it.

Hearing a beep, Jenny looked over to her phone where it was charging on her nightstand. A text from someone, apparently. Waddling over - Keeping a hand on the wall to keep from tripping - She checked it. From Mike.

Mike: (7:26 PM) Weather’s getting bad again, ice on the runway. Looks like the flight will be delayed until tomorrow. Sorry. :confused:

Jenny looked at the text, and then down at her clothes, and then back up at the text.

“Fuck.”

Chapter Two

“Fuckin’ goddamn piece of-” Jenny swore, yanking at one of the pretty white shoes on her stocking-clad feet, furiously trying to yank it off. In order to even reach the shoe, she was lying on her back on the ground, one leg splayed awkwardly off to the side as she reached forward, since the triple-thick diapers made it difficult to reach otherwise.

She’d been at this for an hour - First she tried to claw off the collar, and then she tried to yank off the onesie, and then the little pink skirt, and then the shoes, and then all back to the beginning again. She was on her third cycle, and in addition to getting pretty tired, she’d been getting more and more vulgar as the minutes had passed with absolutely no effect on any of the clothes.

She’d even gotten clever, and tried getting a pair of scissors from the kitchen, but to no avail. Her scissors were old and a little dull, and she’d gotten high quality clothing which was, if not indestructible, at the very least it was extremely cut and burn resistant.

“Stupid blade-proof damned- Aaugh!” Jenny shouted to nobody in particular, lying back on the wood floor and doing a mock falsetto impression of her own voice as she stared at the ceiling in frustration. “‘Oh no, Mikey dear, I don’t need a spare key, I trust you! What could possibly go wrong?’ Stupid, stupid, STUPID!” With no other punching bags within easy reach, after each ‘Stupid’ she slammed a fist into the crotch of the immoveable onesie. It was a testament to the thickness of the padding beneath that she couldn’t feel a thing from the impact.

Jenny finally sighed, out of energy to try and fight her cloth and plastic prison. It was just for one evening, Mike’s flight would probably come in the next morning, and then she’d be fine. She’d be unlocked from all this crap, in bed with Mike, wrapped up in his arms and feeling him press deeper and deeper into her-

“And fuck this stupid chastity belt, too!” Jenny screamed, banging both her fists against the floor to her side in a small emulation of a toddler’s tantrum.

Sitting up, V-legged since she couldn’t close her legs enough for anything else, she rolled her eyes as she caught her adorable image in the mirror. She couldn’t decide if it was worse or not that she looked totally cute in the little girl clothes - On the one hand, at least she wasn’t wearing something totally hideous or gross, but on the other, it meant she had a hard time even taking herself seriously.

Grabbing the bedframe for support, she started to stand up. “Well, at least I didn’t go with Plan A and handcuff myself to the bed,” she mused, as she got shakily onto her feet, took one step forward, lost her footing, tripped backwards, and landed on her butt. Again, the padding was such that she felt nothing from the landing, though she smelled a slight puff of baby powder and heard a noisy crinkle to accompany the loud “Thud” when she landed.

She was glad that her apartment had thick walls and non intrusive neighbors. Aside from the sound of her landing, anyone who was listening in would had heard - In specific, and extremely vulgar detail - exactly what she was wearing, how much she hated it, and how much she just needed a good lay after a week without any stimulation between her legs more intense than a showerhead.

This was not her first fall after trying to walk, or even her tenth. Several of her attempts to take off some of the clothing had been standing, and she had also needed to walk to the kitchen to get her scissors when she tried that. In fact, the walk to the kitchen had resulted in almost a dozen falls almost on its own. It wasn’t just that her legs naturally spread to nearly a ninety degree angle when she tried to walk, but that was a big part of it. On top of that, though, her floors were all polished, smooth wood, and the Mary Janes she wore had no traction. (The soles were actually slippery and slick to the touch, just another fun addition from what Jenny now called the “Cock-sucking piece of shit bondage crap-factory”.) She’d occasionally had trouble keeping balance on her smooth floors while just wearing fresh socks, but between the diapers and the shoes, it was all but impossible.

She was hungry, though, and she didn’t feel like tripping her way to the kitchen. Chewing her lip as she thought, Jenny tried to puzzle out how she was supposed to get around her apartment until Mike got home. Walking to the elevator and then to her car would be fine - On pavement, the floors wouldn’t be nearly so slick, and neither would carpet - but inside her apartment, she couldn’t figure out how she was supposed to…

“Oh, you’ve got to be freakin’ kidding me,” Jenny groaned, as she realized the solution to her waddling problem. Rolling over from her seated position, she put out her hands, pushed up onto her knees, and got an all fours. With that done, she started crawling out the door.

It took a minute to get used to - Her heavily padded butt waggled in the air a lot more than she had thought it would, some adjusting was needed so that her knees didn’t hurt right away, and the rustly crinkling from the plastic pants seemed almost as loud as some of her tantrum had been, though in reality it obviously wasn’t, though it was still loud enough to be painfully obvious even if you weren’t listening for it.

Still, crawling on all fours to the kitchen was a lot faster and easier than waddle-trip-walking would have been, so Jenny decided to call it a win. Well, maybe “Win” was too strong a word, but she had managed to get to the kitchen without getting whiplash from falling on her ass so many times, so that was a positive.

Reaching up and grabbing at the counter with one hand and the fridge door with the other, she managed to pull herself to her feet and, with a little effort, open the door to peek in. She was in dire need of going grocery shopping, so the pickings were pretty sparce.

“Let’s see, I’ve got… Milk,” Jenny noted. “And… Cranberry juice. And some butter. Yay.” Then, spotting a box of leftovers in the back, she reached for it and added, “Ooh, what’s thi- Ew, ew, ew…” The leftovers were over a month old, and smelled like mold and sweat. Wrinkling her nose, Jenny closed the box and put it back, shutting the fridge door.

With the fridge a bust, she instead used both hands to slowly move her way down the countertop before reaching the cupboard where she had some dry produce stored.

Or, at least, where she was supposed to have some dry produce stored. “Um… A tub of oatmeal. When did I buy this?” She shrugged, though - It wasn’t like oatmeal ever expired, after all. “And… Hmmm… Unlabeled bag of what looked like a chewy peppermint candy of some kind, some dried fruit, more dried fruit,” (Leftovers from preparation for a camping trip they never went on,) “And… Okay, I think that chocolate bar belongs into the museum. Why the fuck didn’t I go shopping today when I had the chance?”

Still, she had the makings for an edible dinner, so with much waddling and slipping between the stove and the pantry, she put a little something together. With no sugar to speak of, the oatmeal had to be sweetened with the old fruit, and with nothing else to eat, the dried fruit also served as the side dish. She tossed out the chocolate bar.

Ten minutes later, Jenny had a big bowl of crappy oatmeal, a slightly smaller meal of the slightly less crappy fruit, and a tall glass of cranberry juice to wash it down. “Dinner of freakin’ champions,” She muttered, severely disappointed with how her evening was going so far. Instead of getting off the chastity belt and having hot, sweaty funtime with Mike, she was locked in more layers than ever and sitting down to a crappy dinner. She couldn’t even sit comfortably - The padding was large enough that it spilled over the edges of the narrow chair, making her squirm, crinkle, and occasionally puff out a little bit of the smelly baby powder as Jenny wriggled to try and find a comfortable way to sit down.

At the very least, the oatmeal wasn’t as bad as she had expected,and she went back for seconds, cleaning out the pan along with the rest of the food she had in the house. The fruit was actually pretty good too, and she read the label on the package as she munched on it, sipping the cranberry juice every once in awhile. “Hmm, ingredients… Dried plums, sugar, spices. Plums. Huh, I apparently like plums. Weird.” She emptied that bowl too, leaving the house totally devoid of food, except for the milk and a little butter.

Putting her bowls, glass, and silverware in the washing machine, she reached for the soap and found that it, too, was missing. “So, I need to go grocery shopping after Mike gets home tomorrow, too,” she muttered to herself. “Whoopty-fuckin’ doo.”

It occurred to Jenny, as she unwrapped the peppermint candy from the cupboard for dessert, that she had been swearing an awful lot that evening, to which she said aloud, “Like I give a shit, nobody’s listening. And I talk to myself waaay too fuckin’ much, anyways.” She smelled the candy to make sure it hadn’t gone bad or anything, and it smelled minty and fresh, so she popped it in her mouth and bit down. Sure enough, it was pretty minty, soft, a little chewy, and…

Jenny’s eyes went wide and she tried to hurry to the sink, slipped when she forgot to grab a handhold, and fell on her butt, biting down hard on what she had thought was candy. Scrambling to her feet, she fell again, and then finally managed to clamber up towards the faucet, spitting out what was left of the minty goop in her mouth and making a gagging noise. Turning the faucet on and spraying it directly in her mouth, she spat again, and then again, trying to wash out the remnants of residue still left in her mouth.

“Dammit!” She yelled, as she turned off the faucet and made an icky face, pouring another glass of cranberry juice (And finishing the bottle) to wash out the taste in her mouth. “Who put a freakin’ hand soap in the cupboard?”

Chapter Three

Jenny couldn’t sleep.

Not much had happened in the past few hours: She’d watched a little TV, browsed the internet, played a game on her phone, and generally tried to forget her current predicament as much as humanly possible. It wasn’t easy, but she had kinda sorta kept herself from worrying about her stupidly cute clothes. A particularly saucy Old Spice commercial had reminded her of the chastity belt, to her annoyance, but she’d switched to NPR and gotten her insupportable horniness under control.

At ten, she’d gone to bed. It was a little earlier than she normally did, but she was tired and had nothing better to do. And that’s when she started having trouble sleeping.

There were a couple problems: She was used to taking a shower right before bed, for one, and her body didn’t like the idea of sleeping without washing up first. She was also used to having a little fun before bed, too, but that was something she’d had a week of practice ignoring.

More noticeably, her preferred sleep clothes were typically something along the lines of nothing, or, in the winter when it got very cold, she might put on some panties. Jenny had soft sheets and softer blankets, so she saw no real reason to bother with PJs that would just get between her and the soft, warm bedding.

Which meant that getting to sleep fully clothed, with shoes and everything, was proving to be all but impossible. The padding made it extra difficult, she was normally a side sleeper but was finding that with almost six inches of absorbent material between her legs to keep them spread, her choices were limited to either her back or her stomach.

At midnight, she’d tried her usual remedy for sleeplessness: She got up, crawled to the kitchen, heated up some milk on the stovetop, and drank it down. Maybe a bit of a childish remedy, but it had always worked for her in the past.

This time, all it accomplished was getting her last clean glass dirty, and half an hour later she was lying in bed with a new problem: Now, she had to pee.

While in theory Jenny knew that she would have to use the diapers before Mike got home, she wasn’t about to go down without a fight. Pissing herself was, in her mind, about as gross and disgusting as things could possibly get. While Mike probably wouldn’t mind coming home to find her diaper sodden and smelling like a truck stop men’s room, Jenny would mind quite a bit.

Since she couldn’t sleep anyways, she tried some other things to relieve a bit of the pressure. She couldn’t pace back and forth, so she crawled in circles instead, padded butt waggling in the air as she crawled laps around the living room. That helped a little, so she turned the TV back on to take her mind off of things and, in absence of anything to snack on, got a glass of water. In the late hour, with the building almost entirely noiseless, the TV was almost eerie in the way it piereced the silence, but An hour of crummy infomercials went by, and then she couldn’t keep herself distracted anymore, so it was time to try something new.

Holding herself was totally out of the question, of course. She tried it anyways, applying pressure to the seat of her diaper in an attempt to emulate the classic “Gotta pee, gotta pee” pose, but that was impossible. The other usual remedy, crossing her legs, was equally impossible, all thanks to the thick layers of diapers.

“Dang it,” Jenny swore, her language a little toned down from earlier. "I am not going to piss myself. Not going to happen.

Steel returning to her as she braced herself to keep from having an accident, she sat on the couch for almost five minutes, just focused on the task of keeping her ever-fuller bladder from spilling into the diapers.

Clearly, though, it was a losing battle. Jenny got back onto all fours, getting a new idea. She was getting pretty fast at crawling by now - It only took about ten seconds for her to clamber to the bathroom, drag herself up to the sink, and start looking through the medicine cabinet.

It was only sensible, after all - Jenny hadn’t once wet the bed since she was three years old. If she could just get to sleep, she’d have nothing to worry about, right? If nothing else, it was almost three thirty in the morning, and the logic made sense to her drowsy brain.

Finding a little bottle of Ambien, she popped two of the pills into her hand, crouched a bit so that she could drink water straight from the sink, and swallowed them both.

“There,” she said. “Problem so- Whoa!” Trying to turn off the faucet, her hand slipped and she lost her grip, tumbling backwards and landing for the twentieth time on her crinkling butt. This time, though, she lost more than just her footing in the fall.

Landing with an all-too-familiar “Thud,” she puzzled for a second why the pressure on her bladder had suddenly vanished, and then her eyes widened with horror as she felt a sudden wet warmth spreading in the diaper, absolutely flooding the padding with most of a day’s worth of fluids. The diapers were well suited to the task - In fact, even just one diaper would have been able to hold it all with room to spare - and wicked away the moisture almost as quickly as it spilled out of Jenny, making the diapers swell only slightly relative to how puffy and big they already were.

Jenny was rendered speechless, making a few choked stammering noises but unable to form any words, even angry vulgarities to describe the situation. She wasn’t mad, she was just grossed out and humiliated: There she was, V-legged like a toddler on the bathroom floor, dressed in a pink costume that wouldn’t have been out of place at a two year old’s birthday party, sitting three feet from a toilet as she helplessly soaked her diapers.

As full as her bladder had been, it took almost a minute before the torrent slowed and finally petered out, and Jenny did nothing to try and stop it sooner. The damage was already done, no need to stay uncomfortable when her diaper was already going to be soaking wet.

Once the trickle finally stopped she pulled herself to her feet, noting that the diaper sagged just a tiny bit more between her legs when she stood. She turned off the faucet, put back the ambien, and then lowered herself back to all fours so she could crawl back to bed. Crawling was a tiny bit less crinkly this time around, though however much quieter the crinkle had gotten, the obvious “Squish” with every movement of her hips and legs filled in the gap.

Getting back to her bedroom, she noticed the red light flashing on her phone, indicating that she had gotten a text. Crawling into bed and laying on her stomach, propped up on her elbows as she unlocked the phone, she saw it was from Mike.

Mike: (4:05 AM) Hey babe. Call me when you wake up. Missing you.

Since she was still up, Jenny tapped his picture on the phone, dialing his number. The phone rang three times, and then Mike picked up.

“Hey, Jenny, what are you doing up so early?” Mike asked, sounding pretty sleepy himself.

“Couldn’t sleep, I was just up… Using the bathroom,” Jenny said, only half lying. No need to spoil the surprise, after all, and it wasn’t like telling Mike would get him home any sooner. “What’s up, sweetie?”

“Bad news,” Mike said, sounding disappointed. “Weather’s getting worse. All flights are cancelled tomorrow until at least six in the afternoon, probably later. I’m going to see about getting a rental car once the place opens up, but with the roads as bad as they are I won’t be home until late tomorrow afternoon. You doing okay?”

Jenny looked down at her outfit, eyes lingering on the adorable pink ponies on her onesie, hearing a slight jingle of the collar’s nametag as she turned her head back to the phone.

“Wish you were here,” she said.

“Me too,” Mike agreed. “Are you staying dry?”

Jenny froze for a second, wondering how Mike could possibly know, and then she finally heard the patter of rain against her window. “Oh… Heh, yeah,” she said, glad that Mike couldn’t see her blushing. A sudden yawn coming on as the Ambien kicked in, she added, “Stay safe, okay? I want you home, but don’t do anything to crazy on the road.”

“I won’t,” Mike said. “Love you. Kisses?”

“Kisses,” Jenny agreed, smiling a bit as they both hung up. Even with the bad news, talking to Mike had cheered her up. That night had been a low point, but now that her diaper was all wet, it couldn’t possibly get any worse, right? And even with delays, Mike would be driving in tomorrow and home by late afternoon.

As she started drifting off to a well needed sleep, Jenny couldn’t help but smile. Things had to get better tomorrow, there was no doubt about it. And it wasn’t like things could get any worse!

“S’still have’to go grocery shopping tomorrow,” she mused, very sleepily wondering how she would hide her clothes as she got some food. She had to eat, after all.

The dried plums had been good. She decided to get some more of them.

Yup. Nothing could possibly get any worse. Absolutely nothing at all.

Zzzz……

Chapter Four

When Jenny woke up to an acute discomfort in her belly, the sun was peeking through her thick curtains and the birds had long since stopped chirping. She had rolled on her stomach in the night, and her pillow was pooling with drool. Her hair, fortunately, had stayed relatively neat thanks to the clips locked in place, keeping them in nice pigtails.

Raising her head slightly, it took her a few sleepy seconds to remember why she was lying on her stomach, why she was asleep in her clothes, and why it felt like a cold, damp pillow was wrapped around her crotch.

“Freakin’ Ambien,” she muttered, looking at the clock and seeing it was just past Eleven, several hours past when she normally woke up. Yawning once, she stretched, rolled over, and sat up, blinking a few sleepy thoughts away. Her diaper felt heavier and soggier than it had when she went to sleep, but she chalked that up to paranoia. It wasn’t like she had wet the bed, right? And after all, she didn’t need to pee when she woke up, so it couldn’t have been a bedwetting problem. If the diapers sagged more notably between her legs, that was just another weird coincidence.

She felt another cramp and winced, putting a hand to her gut. “What the…?” She muttered aloud, confused. She hadn’t felt any need to go the night before, but this already felt pretty acute. She chalked it up to coincidence, she could usually hold it for a couple days if she really had to, she could definitely make it until that evening. She’d just put up with cramps for an hour or two, they’d go away, and she’d be fine.

Rolling out of bed, she crawled to the bathroom, drug herself up to the sink, and got ready for the day. She felt sweaty and gross from being unable to take a shower, and the odor of stale urine followed her wherever she went, but she barely noticed the crinkling or the squishy noise any more, and she was at least able to wash her face and brush her teeth.

With no breakfast to speak of, she just had a glass of milk, though without a clean glass she had to pour it into a sports bottle and drink from the little straw at the top.

Sucking on her bottle as she crawled back to the fridge, putting the little bit of milk away, Jenny glanced between the full dishwasher to the empty fridge, then sighed. If she had just planned ahead a little better she could have spent the whole day at home, but because of her irresponsibility, now she had to go out and get some food.

Mulling it over as she suckled on the bottle, she decided what she’d do. Crawling on three limbs to her clothes closet, she awkwardly got to her feet using the closet door handle, grabbing a long trenchcoat with a waistbelt. She hadn’t worn it in months, and the weather was warm enough outside that it would be uncomfortably hot, but it went down to her ankles and would conceal any bulk around her midsection. Her stockings and stupid cute shoes would be visible, but that was an affordable level of exposure.

It still wouldn’t cover up the pink collar on her neck, though, with its nametag jingling away as she crawled. For that, she found a thick wool scarf, which would do the trick nicely. And, just for identity protection, she grabbed a pair of big sunglasses, too, so nobody would be able to tell who she was.

Pulling it all on awkwardly, having to roll around on her back and wave her legs in the air a bit to get fully dressed, Jenny stuffed her wallet and keys into a pocket on the coat, then headed to the door. Pausing, though, she glanced to the bathroom, where a big basket of dirty laundry was sitting. Frowning, she thought about her predicament: It had all come about because she was unprepared. Laundry would just be one extra stop on the way to her car, that was fine. Crawling to the basket, she drug it to the door, pulled herself to the handle, and unlocked it.

Carefully, slowly, she peeked outside into the - thankfully - carpeted hallway. It was empty. Perfect. Crawling out onto the carpet, she pushed herself to her feet, wobbling for a second but managing to stay standing. Her legs were still awkwardly splayed out like a toddlers, even more so now as the padding had swollen from the moisture, but she had traction on the carpet, so she was able to waddle to the elevator and take the laundry basket with her without any tripping, slipping, or falls.

The laundry itself was easy - She just had to toss everything in the machine, (not bothering to separate whites and colors,) put a dollar in the soap dispenser, and very, very carefully turned on the machine. The dials to turn the machine on and off were right next to exposed copper pipe that ran the hot water to and from the washer unit. Near boiling water flowed through it, so you could easily burn yourself if you weren’t careful to avoid touching the pipe. Their landlord had said he would put some insulation in soon, but that had been a month ago and so far, no repairs. She nearly brushed a few fingers against the pipe when she doubled forward from another cramp, but she didn’t.

And since she didn’t burn her hands, and it certainly wasn’t going to come up later on, she disregarded the issue and moved on.

Toddling back to the elevator, going up one floor to get to the parking garage. Thankfully, it too was abandoned, so she made it to her car without incident, wrapping the brown trenchcoat a little closer around herself as she got in her car, getting situated awkwardly. She was glad it was a manual - Having to use both feet would have been impossible, but with just one she could tilt her body a little to the side and reach both pedals just fine.

The local mall was also the closest grocery store, so that’s where she went, pulling into the closest non handicapped spot available and carefully stepping out onto the pavement. It was hot outside, and with the trenchcoat and wool scarf she was sweltering, but it was better than not having the trenchcoat and wool scarf. The pavement proved to still be stable enough for her to waddle to the door, using a shopping cart for support to mitigate the awkwardness of her walk. The collar didn’t jingle, at least, and the mall music covered up her triple diaper’s patented crinkle-squish noise. There was nothing to do about the smell, but the mall was just busy enough that it was difficult to tell who it was coming from, without being really crowded.

Making a beeline to the grocery store, Jenny went to town on her grocery budget. Enough canned and pre-prepared food to last a small apocalypse, plus the usual fresh food she normally bought. The store was mostly empty except for a few employees, not a lot of people went grocery shopping at eleven thirty in the morning, so she didn’t feel too embarrassed waddling around the store.

Remembering the last night’s dinner, she also went to the dried fruits section, looking for plums. A few minutes of searching went by, though, and she couldn’t find any. Noting a shelf stocker a little ways away, she leaned over, taking off her sunglasses a second to ask, “Uh, you know where the dried plums are?”

“Oh, uh-” The stocker hesitated for a second when he saw Jenny’s unusual clothes, the hot trenchcoat and scarf in the middle of a warm day, but then he turned back to the shelf, grabbed a package, and handed it to her. “Here you go. Middle shelf, right here.”

Jenny looked at the bags, frowning. “No… These are prunes. I wanted dried plums.”

The stocker nodded. “Yeah, dried plums. Those are prunes. It’s just a marketing label, ‘Dried plums’ sells better so some stores’ll relabel their fruit.”

“Oh,” Jenny said, getting a sinking feeling in her stomach as she came to a realization, followed by another cramp a little further down below her stomach. “Prunes. Right. Uh… Thanks. I think I’ll get these some other time,” she added, putting the package back as she got another cramp. She was beginning to realize that maybe, just perhaps in some version of the word, she had made a mistake.

Panicking, she suddenly knew that she needed to get home, quick. She couldn’t sprint away, but she hurried away nonetheless, stopping just long enough to grab a pack of dishwasher soap before hurrying over to the register, no longer caring about the slightly strange look that the stocker had given her.

Sunglasses back on her face, just in case, she practically tossed everything onto the belt as another cramp hit her. Getting home was the priority. It wasn’t that she was really going to shit her pants, but it would be easier to deal with the issue in a controlled, isolated environment.

“Are… you alright?” The cashier asked, sounding genuinely concerned as she swept the items over the scanner.

“Just… In a hurry,” Jenny said, scanning the crowd behind the shades, looking for the fastest route to the door. “Uh, credit,” she added, nearly throwing her card at the cashier once everything was scanned.

“Do you have a rewards card?” The cashier asked.

Jenny wasn’t sure, but now that she knew what was causing her cramps, they seemed to be worse. “No! Can we hurry this along?”

The cashier frowned, then turned to her cash register, tapped a small red button, and swiped the credit card. “Fine,” she said, “Your total is-”

“Yeah, yeah, I don’t need a receipt,” Jenny said, quickly tossing her bags in her cart.

“Okay, jeez,” The cashier said, taking a step back defensively. It was a little silly, she was almost eight inches taller than Jenny, but that wasn’t really relevant, Jenny just needed to leave and figure out how she was going to keep her diapers from getting any grosser.

As close to running with her cart as she could get, Jenny ran out the doors and past the scanners, speeding towards the exit, barely looking around the mall except to make sure she wasn’t about to run into anyone.

Halfway there, she heard a voice call out. “Ma’am?” But, she assumed it wasn’t for her and kept going. “Ma’am! Stop!” Surely that couldn’t be for her, right? “Stop!”

Jenny felt a sudden yank at the back of the trenchoat’s collar, which in turn pulled her off her feet. The shopping cart went speeding off and wrecked into a pillar, Jenny her arms get twisted awkwardly as the trenchcoat pulled away, and then she landed with an all-too-familiar squishy “Thud” on the mallroom floor, all but totally exposed.

At least she still had the scarf on, though the sunglasses had fallen off somewhere. And she hadn’t lost the fight to keep her diaper clean just yet.

Responding with anger to try and cover her embarrassment, Jenny whirled in place on the man behind her, who had grabbed her coat. “What’s the big fuckin’ ide- Oh…” she trailed off, looking up at the two beefy security guards standing behind her.

They both wore black uniforms with “MALL SECURITY” Written in white lettering on the front, and both wore expressions of mixed annoyance, confusion, and surprise. Jenny looked up at them, knowing that the scene she had made was almost certainly drawing stares from halfway across the mall, with all of the unoccupied shoppers now stopped to look at the girl adorned in adorable pink, adorable ponies, and adorable lace, pacifier dangling from the ribbon, with obvious diapers taped between her totally unhelpful skirt. Jenny blushed, feeling a sudden wave of humiliation as her face burned red.

And that’s when she lost the fight to keep her diaper clean.

Re: Lock and Key (Chp 1-4, updated 12/26)

I like this story a lot. The descriptions are good, with the right amount of detail, and it’s very readable. The setup is really good; there’s certainly some suspension of disbelief required, but it doesn’t take much extra imagination to see how someone might be so excited about a homecoming (and the release from chastity) that they would jump the gun on locking themselves in, without thinking about possible delays or having to refill the pantry. Some people might nitpick the details, but the narrative flows well enough and I like the subject matter well enough that those don’t bother me.

Re: Lock and Key (Chp 1-4, updated 12/26)

I liked this one a lot! The idea of a sort of accidental self imposed diaper punishment is different, and the detailed descriptions work well. I only have two questions, sort of nit picks; did you mention here going to the kitchen to get scissors twice, or am I misreading, and was security after her? Did her payment not go through?
Anyway, overall, I enjoyed it a lot and would like to see more :slight_smile:

Re: Lock and Key (Chp 1-4, updated 12/26)

The reason security was after her? Will be revealed in Chapter 5. :wink:

Re: Lock and Key (Chp 1-4, updated 12/26)

I had to go back and check with the scissors. I brought up the scissors twice, once to mention that she couldn’t cut through her clothing, and once again to mention that she was having trouble walking. In retrospect, mentioning them twice does screw up the flow a little, but I think it’s servicable.

And yeah, as WBDaddy said, the security explanation is in Chapter 5. Which I’ll be posting in a few minutes.

Re: Lock and Key (Chp 1-4, updated 12/26)

And here it is! I hope you like messy diapers.

Chapter Five

[i]“Now, hold still, you’re squirming and I can’t get- Wohoah there!”

“Heh. You’re enjoying yourself?”

“Of course. Thank you again, so much.”

“No problem, sweetie, and remember what I promised you?”

“What’s that? I mean, uh- Which bit?”

“Once you get home, you can do whatever you want to me. Whatever. You. Want.”

“You are so hot right now.”

“That’s because we just got out of the shower, the water was turned up pretty warm.”

“No, I mean-”

“I’m kidding.”

“Right.”

“But I was serious before. Once I’m locked up, you get the key. And no matter what I say, or do, no matter how much I beg and plead, you can make me do anything you want to earn that key from you. Don’t let me back out of this one, understand?”

“Well now my hands are shaking, I can’t get this to lock-”

“Here, let me help you, it just goes like-”

“No, I’ve got it, just hold still and… Got it!”

“No, I think you did it wrong. Look, it’s way too lose.”

“Shit, you’re right.”

“Just… Give me the key, I’ll fix it.”

“You’re still super hot.”

“I know.”

CLICK.

“There we go, all locked up, here’s the key. Now lets get some clothes on and get you to the airport, or you’ll miss your flight or get booted to stowage or something.”

“Hey, when’s the last time I had airline troubles?”
[/i]

Jenny may have wanted nothing more in the world than to keep from filling up her diapers, but her body had other plans. It had dealt with her crap long enough, and was tired of fighting to keep in something that obviously needed to go out, so a biological override kicked in. So, even though her brain was screaming at her body to stop, she could only watch the reactions of the security guards in horror as her legs bent a bit and her torso rocked back before she lost the fight, once and for all.

There wasn’t really any pushing, none was necessary. Her back door simply opened up, and a smelly, mushy sludge squished out into the seat of her diaper, filling the triple thick padding like a dump truck. Since she was seated, the soft muck immediately ran out of room where it was coming back and found itself forced forward towards the more open and spacious crotch of the diaper, and on the way her mess took time to fill every nook and cranny available beneath the diaper, squishing around the metal of the chastity belt and…

Jenny was already blushing, but her cheeks turned red enough to stop traffic as she felt a totally unwanted but equally unstoppable rush of feelings as her mess found its way underneath the chastity belt and smushed against areas where she’d been totally unable to reach for the past week, and not for lack of trying.

She was still filling the diaper as this happened, the sheer amount of mass flowing into her diaper a surprise, and in a panic she came up with an idea to mitigate the amount of stinky muck that would end up smooshed against her womanhood: She rocked forward in the diaper.

It took less than a second for her to realize why this was a bad idea. Not only did this simply cause the remaining mess that was still being pushed out of her to fill up the back of her diaper as well, leaving no corner of her ass that was even remotely clean, but it also put her full body weight on the mush which had filled up the front of the diaper, squishing it into herself further and making her draw in a sharp breath.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Jenny managed to cut off the flow of crap into her diaper. It was about then that she realized that through this whole process - an ordeal lasting easily more than thirty seconds - she’d been making quiet little grunts of effort, and just about everyone in the mall within viewing distance had stopped to gawk and stare.

It wasn’t like it was a mystery what she was doing, even if you couldn’t see much more than a tiny addition of bulk beneath the many layers of padding she wore - Her expression and body language told most of the story, and the smell which was quickly radiating from her (Not slowed in the tiniest bit by the layers of padding,) only confirmed the obvious.

The two security guards had been exchanging awkward and nervous glances on their part all through the ordeal, but finally came to some kind of silent decision, and the younger looking one - A man in his mid thirties - said, “Uh… Ma’am? We’re… Er… Going to need you to come with us.”

Jenny just stared up at them, red-faced and totally at a lack of words. From the total silence of the mall crowd, a few titters and giggles could be heard, mostly from kids, but certainly a few from adults as well. She suddenly winced away from a bright flash and froze in horror as she realized someone had taken a photograph.

She didn’t want to stand up. Now, it wouldn’t just be difficult and annoying to close her legs, it’d inevitably mean smushing her diaper’s gross new contents between her legs and…

Fuck this fucking chastity belt, she thought, bitterly. There was absolutely no reason in hell why she should be finding any of this arousing, and yet she was sex-starved enough that any contact down there, even something that gross, even in the midst of totaly humiliation, had her wet enough to soak through several layers of panties. (If she had been wearing any.)

As she tried to stammer out a word or two, the older security guard leaned down to Jenny’s level and grabbed her by the arm, then drug her up to her feet anyways. She made a humiliated “Meep” noise, but didn’t know what else to saw. There were two other flashes of cameras and a few more giggles - More from adults this time, too - but the crowd was already starting to thing. Clearly, the best part of the spectacle was over, now she was just to be drug away and taken to the looney bin, or possibly the daycare. There was nothing left to see.

Or, that would have been the case, if the security office hadn’t been on the far end of the mall. For a perp walk, Jenny was pulled by the arm and forced to waddle the entire distance, her thick diaper just starting to sag from the weight, squishing between her legs in a frustratingly arousing way with every step, crinkling and squishing loud enough to be heard over the mall music. The plastic pants and onesie were performing admirably, but the diaper was beginning to sag notably anyways, creating an additional swaying weight that threw off Jenny’s step more than ever.

It was possible Jenny could have said something, protested, asked to be taken more discreetly, or for her trenchcoat back maybe, but she was so embarassed that she couldn’t think of any words to say beyond embarassed squeaks and occasional gasps when her diaper’s contents squished in a particularly unmistakeable way.

It was a relief to make it to the little security room and be told to sit and wait in a chair, while the two security guards went into another room to argue about something.

The sitting down mushed her mess about even further, of course, but it was already so bad that any further mucking about couldn’t really make things worse.

A few seconds went by and, finally alone and able to think, Jenny realized how badly her diaper smelled and wrinkled up her nose in disgust. “Ew…” She mumbled.

A minute went by, and the security guards didn’t leave the next room they had entered. By then, the whole room had filled up with her dirty diaper smell, it was totally unmistakeable and totally impossible to miss. Jenny’s diaper felt hot and icky, and the knowledge that she was stewing in her own personal toilet and that it was completely her own fault did absolutely nothing to cheer her up. She breifly tried to think of it like a personal hot mud bath taped around her waste, but she wasn’t nearly a good enough liar to convince herself that was the case.

Worse, the cramps hadn’t gone away, just receded in pressure.

Even worse, her libido had totally missed the memo about how dirty diapers were disgusting and gross, and decided that since Jenny had stopped taking care of her sexual needs personally, any contact down there would have to do. So, in spite of everything else, it was taking every ounce of her self control not to grab both armrests as tightly as she could and start grinding the seat of her diaper into the back of the chair.

Ten minutes went by, with no return from the security guards.

After twenty minutes, Jenny quietly wondered if the door was even locked, or if she could just quietly sneak away. When she started to get up to test her theory, though, her diaper noisily rustled and squelched, and she remembered that stealth was going to be totally impossible.

At twenty three minutes, her body convulsed again, spilling a little more muck into her diaper, the new mess bubbling a little and then settling in.

Finally, with nothing else to do, Jenny tried focusing as hard as she could to listen in on what the guards were saying next door. She couldn’t hear anything, though, so acting as quietly as she could, she lowered herself out of the chair and onto all fours, slowly crawling to the door and sticking her ear to it to listen.

“Do you want to go in there to search her?”

“Ew, hell no. I can smell that shit through the door.”

“So, like I said. We wait. My shift is up in five minutes, the new kid gets here then, you send him in to deal with her.”

“Shouldn’t we at least go and talk to her, explain what’s wrong?”

“I think she know’s what’s wrong. The problem is, we don’t know what’s wrong!”

“So we sit?”

“We sit.”

“…”

“Did you see that ludicrous display last night?”

“Hell yeah. Pigger’s are gonna go all the way this year.”

“Damn right.”

Finding that whole conversation enormously unhelpful, Jenny crawled back to her seat and climbed back into it, growling at her libido to stay down. “Mike gets home this evening,” she reminded herself, stiffly. “And then we can have all the fun we want. Got it?”

A few more minutes went by. Jenny regretted leaving her cell phone sitting in her shopping cart. Finally, after a foul smelling eternity, the door to the further security room cracked open, and in stepped a new guard.

He looked to be just barely out of highschool, maybe twenty at the oldest, and like he probably had a free ride to just about any college in the state on a sports scholarship. At six foot two he towered over the diminutive Jenny, and along with his height he had perfect hair and great muscles, the kind of guy Jenny read about in crappy romance novels. He had probably only taken the security job as an easy way to make some money on the side during college breaks.

He immediately wrinkled up his nose and recoiled at the smell as he walked in, making Jenny blush with guilt. (After all, it was her messy diapers that were causing the smell in the first place.) After breathing through his mouth for a second, though, he closed the door behind him and said, “Hi. I’m Josh.”

Avoiding eye contact, Jenny said, “Uh… Hey.” A few more seconds went by, and she added, “I’m Jenny.”

“We know. Your wallet was in your shopping cart, it had your drivers license,” Josh said, before pausing, unsure what else to say.

Jenny decided to fill in, “So… Why am I here, exactly?”

“Well… You were wearing a disguise to conceal your identity, one of the cashiers thought you were acting funny so they hit the panic button, you set off all the theft alarms when you walked out, which would only happen if you were shoplifting or if you’ve just randomly got a lot of metal all over your body, and then you ran towards the exit recklessly and didn’t stop when one of our security guys told you to.”

Jenny blinked, doing the math in her head as a few cogs clicked into place. “Oh…” she said, realizing how bad it must have looked.

“Did you steal anything?” Josh asked, awkwardly rubbing the back of his athletically toned neck.

“Uh, No,” Jenny said, shaking her head.

Josh pausing, blushing himself for a minute. “Can you… Er… That is, I need you to stand up.”

“Why?” Jenny asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I… Well, I’m supposed to, uh… Search you,” Josh explained. “To make sure you’re not hiding anything.”

Jenny blinked a couple times. “Oh…” She said. Blushing more than ever, she got to her feet, trying to convince herself that this situation wasn’t really hot, that the jock in the security uniform wasn’t the next best thing to her imaginary boyfriend in Highschool, and that the thought of his hands running up and down her body wasn’t something that excited her.

Normally she’d just think of something gross or repulsive to throw her body off the scent of sexy fun, but she was having trouble thinking of anything more gross than a really full diaper, and today her libido had decided that a really full diaper could join in the sexy fun for all it cared.

Spreading her legs and arms, trying to stand as steadily as possible, Jenny wondered who was blushing more: Him, or Josh. Stepping around behind her, he quickly patted down her arms, upper waist, hands lingering just a little around the front of her chest until a hand bumped into her pink pacifier where it dangled from its ribbon. From there it was on down to her sides and then legs, gingerly avoiding coming anywhere near touching the huge bulge starting below her belly button and ending where it sagged a few inches above her knees.

Finding nothing, obviously, Josh said, “Could you please take that scarf off for a minute?”

Jenny froze, blushing even more, but she didn’t want to get locked up - That is, she didn’t want to be arrested for refusing to comply, so she pulled off the scarf, feeling her cheeks burning with embarrassment as Josh saw the pink leather collar and the little metal tag, now free to jingle with no scarf in the way.

He was speechless for a second, then said, “You… Can put the scarf back on. So you didn’t steal anything, I guess that means you’re OK. We have your grocery cart outside, your coat is in there.”

Jenny breathed a sigh of relief, feeling nervous tension leaving her body. “So, I’m free to go?”

Chuckling nervously, Josh rubbed his neck again and said, “Well, technically we’re not allowed to hold anyone, we’d have to call the police and let them do that. You could have left whenever you wanted, the worst we could really do is just give you a six week ban, but… Uh, yeah. You’re free to go, I guess.”

Jenny blinked a few times at that, suddenly feeling really, really stupid. “Oh…” She said, at yet another loss for words, though anger was starting to rise as she realized that she’d just been subjected to all that humiliation and anxiety for just about nothing.

“Oh, and since you’re technically causing a public incident which might scare away customers, and also creating a bit of a health risk, I have to give you a six week ban anyways. Have a nice day?”

That’s when Jenny learned that she didn’t know how to throw a punch.

Re: Lock and Key (Chp 1-5, updated 12/27)

Oh no. She punched him? This is going from bad to worse… THis will make the most awkward mug shot.
I really like the second part. This is shaping out well

Also… ahh ok re-reading it I see what you mean about the scissors. And thanks for the help, WBDaddy.

Re: Lock and Key (Chp 1-5, updated 12/27)

Okay, kind of a short chapter, but I wanted to post something tonight. It’s a little sadistic towards Jenny, (I mean, more so than usual,) but it’s all for a good cause. (That is, making her even more helpless than before.)

Chapter Six

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, ow,” Jenny whimpered, holding her braced hand in the air as she drove, one-handed, back home.

Josh, fortunately for Jenny, hadn’t called the police. In fact, he hadn’t really been that mad. Jenny’s punch had landed crooked, and it had barely left a mark on his chin where she’d hit him. Her hand, on the other hand, was pretty messed up and hurt like hell. She’d tried to clock Josh on the jaw like she’d seen in the movies, but had wrapped her fingers around her thumb all wrong and landed her knuckles right against a hard edge of the bone. Her thumb, fore, and middle fingers were all mangled and swollen, and while her ring and pinkie fingers were fine, they ended up being immobilized by the full hand brace anyways.

That had been another stroke of good fortune - They’d had a small first aid kit in the back of the security office. It had been assembled mostly after little kids came in crying from a sprained ankle or scraped knee, so the hand brace she’d gotten was small, pink, and decorated with little white flowers, but Jenny had small hands to begin with and as long as it kept her fingers and wrist immobilized, she wasn’t about to complain. Josh had recommended she go see a doctor as soon as possible, and Jenny had promised that she would, and then she’d been free to go.

Again, Jenny was glad that she didn’t drive a stick shift: Between the awkward spreading caused by the diaper’s bulk and her immobilized and nearly useless hand, she was down to one arm and one leg for driving. Getting her groceries into the car had been a pain in the ass in itself, but she’d managed it without it taking too long.

Of course, once she started driving, it had been less than a minute before her car smelled like an old diaper pail. She’d rolled down the windows and that’d helped some, though there was only so much she could do about the lingering odor that was pretty much permanently following her wherever she went. She was still experiencing intermittent cramps, but it had been going on for long enough, and her diaper was already so full, that she barely noticed when a little more mush slipped into the seat of her diaper.

Pulling into the parking garage beneath her apartment building, she put her car in park and carefully looked out the windows and in the mirror to check that nobody else was around before tugging on her scarf to make sure it was tied securely and stepping out of the car.

It was a trick to get all of her groceries in one load. With her left arm, she had to lift all of the bags and hang them on her right arm, carefully not to jostle the pink brace keeping her hand immobilized. With the grocery bags all carefully hung on her arm she closed the trunk of her car and gingerly walked to the elevator, trying to keep from squishing the mess between her thighs as she waddled, and especially trying to keep from slipping and falling on her ass again.

To Jenny’s relief, the elevator was empty when she got in, and nobody else stopped it on the ride up to her apartment. The hallway was similarly abandoned, and it didn’t take long to toddle to her door, fiddle with her keys one-handed for a moment, and slip inside. Literally.

As soon as one of her slick-bottomed Mary Jane’s met the polished and smooth floor of her apartment she immediately lost her footing, doing a cartoonish slip-n-slide inside and waving her free arm in a pinwheel for a few seconds before ultimately tumbling to the ground, landing with a particularly loud squelch of her diaper and an even louder crash as the grocery bags slipped off her arm and their contents tumbled across the floor. Her trenchcoat stayed mostly in place, and Jenny didn’t notice a couple of the buttons coming loose on it.

Yelping in pain as a few cans of something banged into her injured hand, Jenny pulled her right arm close to her chest in a defensive gesture, glancing around with a resignation at the groceries scattered across the apartment floor. Her eyes watered a bit from the pain but she wiped her eyes and managed not to start crying, and after a few seconds of deep breathing the shooting pain in her wrist and hand started to die down. Sniffling, she wiped her nose on the leather sleeve of her coat.

She was about to take the coat off, feeling uncomfortably warm, but she remembered that she had a load of damp laundry that needed to be put in the drier pretty soon and, sighing, she pushed herself to her feet and staggered back out the door.

Her luck ran out when she got to the laundry room. No longer empty, there was instead a young man with messy brown hair loading something into a drier, and an older matronly woman who Jenny vaguely recognized, loading a washing machine while her tiny daughter stood next to her.

Jenny froze as the elevator door opened, crossing her fingers and holding her breath as she walked in, hoping that nobody would notice her waddle and doubting that nobody would notice the smell. Crossing slowly to her washer, where her clothes were still sitting in the machine, she opened it and started moving the wet but clean clothes to the drier, moving slowly since she could only transfer clothes with one hand.

A few seconds went by, and though Jenny was intentionally avoiding catching the expressions of the other tenants in the little laundry room, she heard an awkward cough from the young man, and then a few seconds later there was a frustrated sigh from the mother.

“Sarah, did you have an accident?” The mother asked, disappointment clear in her tone. “You’d been doing so well, too. Why didn’t you say you needed to go?”

Jenny blushed, trying to toss laundry in the drier more quickly so she could get the heck out of there.

“Nuh-uh, mommy!” The little girl insisted, and over her shoulder Jenny saw her shaking her head vigorously. “It wasn’ me!”

The mother clucked her tongue disapprovingly. “Don’t lie, sweetie, I can smell it from up here. I’m not mad, I just think maybe you got out of training pants a little too soon.”

“Nuh-uh!” The girl said again, determined. “It was the other girl! With the pretty glove!”

Jenny blushed, moving her braced hand so that the girl and her mother couldn’t see it as well and wishing that she’d chosen another day to get her laundry done.

“Now, it’s not nice to blame other people,” the mom chided, and Jenny glanced briefly over her shoulder to see the mom kneeling down and pulling at the waistband of her daughter’s light blue shorts. Jenny almost hoped that the girl had had an accident as well, so that nobody would notice her own smelly behind, but there was no such luck.

“See!” The girl said, proudly. “It wasn’t me!”

Jenny quickly looked away, her cheeks burning with embarrassment, hands shaking as she tried to toss the rest of the wet laundry into the drier in one big ball, dropping several things on the ground. Reacting too quickly, she tried to bend a bit at the waist to grab the shirts on the floor. That was a mistake, as she quickly realized, losing her balance and starting to wobble on unsteady shoes reaching out to grab anything she could in order to steady herself. Her uninjured hand found purchase on a copper pipe above the washer, and she grabbed it as tightly as she could, catching her balance before she fell.

It really wasn’t entirely her fault, the landlord really should have covered the hot water pipe sooner. As it was, though, the water running through the pipe was almost one hundred eighty degrees, and the pipe itself was only a few degrees cooler.

Jenny felt the pain in her hand almost immediately, and jerked it away in a second, the act sending her tumbling backward. Instinctively she threw out her hands behind her to catch her fall, but her freshly-burned left hand got tangled up in her flailing scarf and her only free hand was the one currently contained in a brace, so the impact of landing sent a second and far more acute spike of pain up her arm. Her diaper squelched, in case anyone couldn’t obviously see the bulgy padding sticking out from beneath the onesie.

And, adding insult to injury, that’s when her trenchcoat came unbuttoned the rest of the way, falling open and exposing her cute and childish garb to the room.

A few silent seconds went by, with the mom, her daughter, and the quiet guy at the drier all staring in silence, as Jenny’s eyes filled with tears as both of her hands throbbed in pain from their injuries.

The little girl was the first to pipe up. “See, mommy? I told you she was the one who had the accident!”

Re: Lock and Key (Chp 1-6, updated 12/28)

I got that Piggers reference, top kek. Enjoying this story so far, seems pretty well written and is definitely a good read.

Re: Lock and Key (Chp 1-6, updated 12/28)

Man talk’n about the worst couple of days. she is having it served on a silver platter and it tastes perfect. Sorry for the cruelness but I love seeing people having bad days and this is a serious bad day for jenny.

Re: Lock and Key (Chp 1-6, updated 12/28)

This is shaping up to be an ABDL equivalent of the Mel Brooks classic “Life Stinks”.

Re: Lock and Key (Chp 1-6, updated 12/28)

Hey Bob, you catch that Piggers game last night?
You bet your beige colored buttocks I did!

She should feel lucky I decided against actually having her get arrested. (In the end I decided it’d be too similar to the last scene of her sitting in a holding room, so I scrapped it.)

The difference here is, everything happening to her is entirely by accident.
Or… Is it? Bum bum BUUUUM!
Yes, it is.

Re: Lock and Key (Chp 1-6, updated 12/28)

Well yeah, but it’s entirely self-inflicted… :wink:

Re: Lock and Key (Chp 1-6, updated 12/28)

I meant to post this when I released it from the moderation queue, but I noticed a minor formatting error in your chapter headings. Most of them are in bold, but you have the heading for chapter three in italics. I started to correct it for you but I wasn’t sure if it was deliberate or not. :slight_smile:

Re: Lock and Key (Chp 1-6, updated 12/28)

Aaaaugh, no, that was a mistake. I proof read before uploading, but the chapter headings I just type out before copy/pasting the text, so I didn’t catch that. Thanks!

Re: Lock and Key (Chp 1-6, updated 12/28)

Chapter Seven

Several seconds went by in utter silence, except for the sound of Jenny sniffling a bit and, of course, the sound of the washing machines running in the background.

The mother was the first one to break the silence, clearing her throat and taking a breath, clearly about to say something. Before she got a chance to, Jenny turned and stumbled into the elevator, clambering to her feet, tears running down her face as she pounded the “Door close” button.

“Wait-” The guy started to say, stepping after Jenny, but she didn’t care to listen to whatever he had to say. The elevator shut before he could get a hand in, and with a little groan of effort started its way back up to her floor. The burn on her hand was already forming blisters, and the skin on her fingers and palm was red and stinging badly.

She was able to waddle back to her apartment without any further difficulty, but unlocking the door and getting inside proved extremely difficult. One hand immobilized, the other badly burned, she had to fumble with her keys for half a minute before she finally got the door open, stumbling and slipping inside.

Once she had the door slammed behind her, she crumpled to the floor, pulling her knees close to her chest and taking almost an entire minute just to cry. Her hands hurt, her bowels ached from the constant cramps, she smelled like shit, she felt gross from not showering for a day and a half. She was hungry, humiliated, and horny enough that she wanted to fuck the next half decent looking guy she saw, and the guy after him, and the guy after him. And, to cap it all off, every bit of the problem was her fault.

“Fucking STUPID!” Jenny shouted, making a fist and pounding her unbroken hand against the wall to her side. She immediately regretted that, of course - It would have hurt even if she hadn’t been burned - and instead of relieving some frustration, she just felt worse.

Instead of punching something else she kicked a nearby can of soup that had scattered when she dropped her groceries, sending it skittering across the floor. In an annoyed tone, she said, “You won’t go down on him 'cause you’re worried it’ll taste gross. You won’t try anal 'cause you think it’d make a mess.” She kicked another can, scowling, before doing a falsetto impression of her voice. “But, sure, honey, I’ll dress up like a baby and shit myself at the mall! What’s the big deal about that? DAMMIT!”

She slammed her burned fist against the wall, this time not caring about the pain. It was something to focus on that wasn’t her current state of affairs.

Some time went by where Jenny simply pouted by the door, glowering and brooding over her predicament, but she finally sniffled, wiped her face off on a sleeve of the trenchcoat, and sighed.

“Okay, Jenny, tantrum’s over. You need to clean up this mess, figure out what you’re having for dinner, then call Mike and find out how soon he’s getting home.” If he had gotten a rental car early enough, he might only be an hour away, or even less. Jenny realized she didn’t know what time it was - She’d lost track at some point during her ‘Incarceration’ at the mall. Digging through the trenchcoat’s pockets she found her phone and realized it was dead. Mike could have called, or texted, and she could have totally missed it.

Crawling to her bedroom to get her charger proved even more annoying than before - With a full diaper, there was much more squishing and discomfort when she crawled, and with her hands both unavailable for use, she had to crawl on her elbows, meaning her thickly padded behind stuck up further in the air than ever.

It would be a minute before the phone could turn back on, so Jenny took off her trenchcoat and returned to her living room, assessing the situation. Her groceries were scattered across the floor, and she had to gather them up before she did anything else - Some of them needed to go in the fridge, and even the rest were better off in a cupboard than on the hardwood.

The process of cleaning up took far longer than it would have had it been any other day. With her hands out of commision for the most part, she had to vaguely herd the groceries back towards the kitchen area before carefully picking them up in such a way that she wouldn’t put pressure on her broken hand or the tender parts of her burned hand. She figured out after a few cans that it was far quicker to carry the small items - Cans, fruit, smaller boxes - in her mouth and haul them that way, so the rest of the cleanup process was her crawling to a can or a package of mac’n’cheese or whatever, leaning forward to pick it up in her mouth (Careful not to bite through anything,) then crawling back to the pantry or fridge to store it.

She was pretty desensitized to the odor by the time she was finished putting all her groceries away. It made sense; A girl could only smell so much stinky diaper before her brain just turned off her sense of smell entirely.

Jenny was pondering the choice between canned pasta and canned soup when she heard a knock at the door. Freezing, she looked up from her vantage point on the floor by the fridge, wondering who it was.

Mike? It had to be Mike. Heart leaping, she clambered over to the door, awkwardly used her wrists to grab the door handle and pull herself to her feet, and threw it open.

It wasn’t Mike.

“Hi, I- Woah,” the guy from the laundry room said, taking a step back and wrinkling up his nose. He was holding a basket of dry laundry under one arm, and thought he looked a tiny bit offput by the smell, he seemed otherwise cheerful and friendly. “I, uh, thought you’d have cleaned up by now…”

Jenny almost slammed the door and ran to hide in her room, but she kept herself from doing he childish thing and instead nervously said, “Uh, long story… Is that my laundry? How’d you find my apartment?”

Shrugging, the guy said, “I checked at the front, everyone’s name is by their mail slot, and your apartment number’s on your mail slot too.”

Jenny frowned, something about that didn’t seem right. Realizing it, she frowned further, suspicious. “Uh… I never told you my name.”

“Oh, right!” The guy said, pointing at Jenny’s neck. “Your scarf fell off when you tripped. I put it with the rest of the laundry.”

Jenny raised an eyebrow, until she remembered the metal tag with “Jenny” clearly stamped on it. She blushed, putting a hand over her neck as though he would forget about the pink leather collar if it was out of sight. “Right…” She said, finally taking a minute to size the guy up.

He was young, about Jenny’s age, maybe a little younger. Like most people he was taller than Jenny, though he wasn’t some kind of towering NBA player either. Dark hair, dark eyes, and with a build and tan line which implied he worked outdoors somewhere.

“What’s your name?” Jenny asked, so she could stop thinking of him as ‘The guy from the laundry room.’

“Dave,” Dave said, gesturing with his head to the laundry basket. “Where do you want this?”

“Just, uh, by the couch,” Jenny said, stepping back, though she kept an arm on the door handle so she wouldn’t topple over.

Dave walked in and set down the laundry, glancing around the apartment. “So… I’m sorry if this is rude or whatever, but I kind of have to ask. Did’ja lose a bet or something?”

Jenny blushed again, shaking her head. “No, it’s, well… Kind of a long story.”

“Well that’s certainly vague,” Dave chuckled. “Do I have to guess?”

“No, it’s just… Well, I was about to make dinner, and I’m sure you don’t want to stick around here too long, 'cause, well…”

Smirking again, Dave said, “The smell? I work on a ranch up north. Three hundred cows. Smell doesn’t bother me.” Nodding towards her hands, he commented, “I do wonder how you plan on making dinner with your hands like that, though. Sure you don’t need a hand?”

“I need two,” Jenny said, jokingly. “But you don’t have to-”

“No problem,” Dave assured her before she could even finish turning him down. “You just have a seat and tell me your long story, I’ll do the cooking. Do you have anything in?”

It took about fifteen minutes to tell the story. Jenny figured the truth was probably less embarrassing than anything he could guess at - It wasn’t her weird kink, it was her boyfriend’s, and everything else was bad luck - So she didn’t try and sugarcoat or make anything up. In that time he assembled a frankensteinian soup of some kind from the ingredients he could find. Jenny hadn’t gone shopping with the intention of actually cooking real food, canned crap was fine with her, but his thrown together concoction actually looked pretty good. (She couldn’t tell if it smelled good, her nose had long since stopped reporting for duty.)

“Sounds like you really care for this Mike,” Dave commented, pouring two bowls full of the soup and looking through drawers for spoons.

“That one,” Jenny said, pointing to her silverware drawer. She was seated at the small kitchen table, since it wasn’t easy or comfortable to stand while she talked and she wasn’t about to talk to Dave from all fours. “And, yeah, he’s great. As much as I hate all this crap, I’m glad it’ll at least make him happy when he gets home this evening.”

Nodding, Dave said, “I’m actually a little disappointed. I had kind of hoped you were single when I first saw you.”

Jenny blushed, and this time it didn’t have to with her state of dress or the state of her diaper. “Well, sorry to disappoint,” she said, accepting the soup and picking up the spoon gingerly with both hands. It was difficult, but she managed to awkwardly guide the spoon into the bowl without putting too much pressure on either of her hand’s injuries, and slowly lifted it up towards her mouth. She spilled the soup back into her bowl, but on her next try, she managed to get a little taste of it into her mouth before spilling the rest, this time on the table. It was surprisingly good, considering its humble origins.

“It’s not your fault,” David replied with a shrug. “It’s good you’re with someone who you care about so much, though. Oh, for- Give me that.” Grabbing the spoon front Jenny’s hands, he scooped it into the bowl and held it up.

Jenny looked at the spoon, then back up at Dave. “You’re kidding me. You are fucking kidding me.”

“It’s gonna take you a month to finish the bowl the way you were doing it,” Dave countered. “That’s assuming you could even get the food in your mouth. Unless you’d rather lap it up off the table, this is gonna be your best bet.”

Jenny scowled, but he had a point. “Okay, fine, but if you say ‘here comes the airplane,’ I’m kicking you in the balls.”

“Noted,” David said, and Jenny opened her mouth to take in the spoonful of soup.

It took some getting used to - Jenny was used to knowing right where her food would be when she put it in her mouth, and she had to practice at meeting the spoon in the air. The first bowl of soup had more than its fair share of dribbles down her chin, which Dave helpfully wiped off with his napkin, but she got most of the soup down. The second bowl went more quickly and without nearly so much of a mess, and Jenny declined to eat a third portion.

Wiping off her mouth, Jenny said, “Uh, thanks for the help, by the way.”

“No problem,” David replied, casually. “Just trying to be a good neighbor. Do you want me to see if I can find a pair of bolt cutters for that costume?”

Jenny hesitated, considering it. The offer was tempting, but after a minute she shook her head. “I don’t think that’d work,” she explained. “They’re not big padlocks, they’re tiny and would be really hard to cut. And, before you ask, I tried cutting through the fabric itself too. It didn’t help. Besides, Mike gets home pretty soon, he’s got the key, I’ll be fine.”

Shrugging, David nodded. “Sure, your call,” he said. “You don’t need anything else, then?”

Thinking on the question, Jenny shook her head again. “No, I think I’m fine. Thank you, though, I really appreciate the help with food. Maybe once I’m… Better dressed, me and Mike could have you over for an actual dinner.”

David smiled. “Sure,” he said, checking his phone to see the time. “Well, I should probably go get my own laundry, it’s probably done by now. I’m a floor above you, apartment seventy three, if you need anything just come knock on my door.”

“Will do,” Jenny agreed. “Eh… Excuse me if I don’t see you to the door.”

Laughing, David saw himself out, leaving Jenny alone again in her smelly apartment.

Lowering herself to the ground, Jenny crawled to her room, rubbing the side of her burned hand against the backside of her diaper to scratch an itch that was starting to develop. Her rubbing accomplished nothing, it was still almost impossible to feel anything through the thick layers of mess and padding, so the itch persisted as she grabbed her phone, holding down the power button to boot it up.

“C’mon, Mike, be almost home,” she muttered. He couldn’t heal her hands, but he could fix just about all her other problems, and Jenny’s only question was which issue she’d want him to address first.

Her phone powered on, seeking briefly for a signal and finally connecting to the nearby cell tower, downloading all her texts. A second went by and then her phone started vibrating violently and beeping in rapid succession as a stream of notifications came in. Seven missed calls, eleven missed texts.

Mike: (1:30 PM) Long line at the rental place, been waiting all day. Ugh. :frowning: Missing you.

Mike: (1:45 PM) They’re understaffed, but I’m almost to the desk.

Mike: (1:46 PM) They’re checking what cars are left. Booored. How’s your day been?

Mike: (2:03 PM) Fuck. They don’t have anything that’d be safe on these roads. >:( Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. I miss you.

Mike: (3:05 PM) Why aren’t you answering your texts? You okay?

Mike: (3:30 PM) Pick up!

Mike: (3:58 PM) Babe, you ok? I’m worried. You didn’t get arrested or something, right?

Mike: (4:21 PM) I hope you’re not hurt or something. The car place just paged me, I think it’s good news!

Mike: (4:27 PM) Nope. They wanted to apologize for being unavailable. I got a gift certificate.

Mike: (4:55 PM) Pick up! Pick up pick up pick up! :frowning: I miss you! And this airport is boring!

Mike: (5:57 PM) There’s a flight leaving tomorrow morning. Gets in at around 10, can you pick me up?

Mike: (6:15 PM) I’ll give you a cookie if you answer your phone.

Jenny looked at the time. It was 6:50, a little over half an hour past Mike’s last text. And he wasn’t getting in until tomorrow morning.

Banging her head against the wall, she resisted the temptation to fling her phone across the room in frustration. She needed to let Mike know she was okay, after all.

Jenny: (6:52 PM) Sorry, phone died. :frowning: If you get delayed again I’m dumping you for the pool boy.

Mike: (6:53 PM) She lives! And go ahead, the pool boy doesn’t have my key ring. :wink:

Jenny: (6:53 PM) Okay, the locksmith then. Seriously, you need to get home. I’m gonna go crazy if I have to wait another day.

Mike: (6:55 PM) Ooh, maybe I should make you wait a little longer when I get home. This is a rare opportunity, no need to waste it. :wink:

Jenny: (6:56 PM) The court finds the homicide of Mike Warner totally justified.

Mike: (6:57 PM) Kill me, you’ll never find where I hid the key.

Jenny: (6:58 PM) Dammit, you’re right. Guess I’ll just have to use other means to pursuade you.

Jenny: (6:58 PM) *Persuede

Jenny: (6:59 PM) *Persuade. Fuck. I can’t spell.

Mike: (7:00 PM) BRB, they’re calling my name on the intercom.

Jenny sighed, setting down her phone and feeling herself relax a bit. Talking to Mike for a bit was exactly what she needed. Tomorrow morning - That bit wasn’t ideal, but she could make it.

“Augh, why does my butt itch so much?” She mused aloud, shifting her weight to try and relieve some of the discomfort. No matter. She’d be fine. Mike would be home tomorrow morning, then she’d be all good. What was the harm in wearing her dirty diaper for another night?

Re: Lock and Key (Chp 1-7, updated 1/6)

She is in the worst possible case for any person ever! ~@*π I would hate to be her but the pain and a little bit of torture is always good for the soul

Re: Lock and Key (Chp 1-8, updated 3/11)

Chapter 8 is finally done! It’s not all too long, but it’s certainly done! Yay!

Seriously though, sorry for the huge delay, and sorry this isn’t too long. I haven’t had much motivation to write kinky stuff lately. (Also, there might not be another update for a while. I have a bunch of work this upcoming week.) I hope you enjoy this, though!

Chapter 8

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, OW!” Jenny groaned, rubbing the back of her heavily padded ass in an attempt to relieve some of the stinging she felt.

She’d fallen asleep easily enough, which wasn’t a surprise: After the day’s events, and the crummy sleep the night before, she could have slept through a nuclear war. When she woke up, though, it had been to the feeling that her ass was on fire. She could only guess that it was from stewing in the diaper overnight, though she couldn’t be sure why, all she knew was that, every time she shifted her weight or sloshed around the contents of the incredibly full layers of diapers, she felt like she was sloshing around battery acid. It made the ache in her hands almost totally negligible, a bit of a blessing in disguise that Jenny didn’t much care for.

And yet, in spite of it all, she was still. So. God. Damned. Horny. As much as her cheeks were burning with discomfort, between them she was just burning for a good lay. It had been way, way too long, and she was about to the point of buying a chainsaw to get off the chastity belt so she could end the week and a half of abstinence.

Checking her phone, she saw a text from Mike.

Mike: (8:44 AM) Plane leaving now. They’re telling me to turn off my phone or we’ll all crash and die. See you in a couple hours.

Sighing, she looked at her clock. 9:47.

“Shit!” She yelped, sitting up in bed, a little glad that, at the very least, she wouldn’t need to use the bathroom or get dressed before rushing out to her car.

Falling out of bed, she hurriedly crawled across the bedroom, making it nearly to the door before she realized she’d left her keys on her nightstand and, scowling, turned to crawl back across the floor.

She couldn’t remember where she’d tossed her coat, but as she glanced around for it, she had a thought. She was picking up Mike. All she had to do was drive, and hopefully not meet anyone on the walk to the parking garage. There was no reason to wear a disguise when she picked up Mike, after all, this was all for him.

“Fuck it,” Jenny mumbled, grabbing the handle of the door out into the hallway and using it to pull herself up to her feet. Keys in one hand, phone in the other, she briefly sent mike a text:

Jenny: (9:55 AM) On my way. Meet you outside, I’ll circle in my car till I see you.

Peeking out the door, she looked up and down the hallway. Coast was clear. Perfect.

Leaving her apartment, she slunk along the wall, partly because it felt stealthier, and partly because she had a much easier time staying on her feet if she had a wall to lean against. Every bit of skin inside her diaper chafed and stung as she waddled to the elevator, but she did her best to ignore it, focusing instead on how good it would feel once she finally got Mike back to her apartment, drug him into the shower, and had him strip her down to nothing so she could finally clean up and reenter the world of the sexually active.

The elevator was not empty.

“Hey, David,” she said, blushing.

David smirked, stepping aside and offering Jenny a hand stepping into the elevator. She declined, choosing to walk on her own, and so of course she immediately tripped and fell forward, flailing her arms to try and break her fall.

David caught her as the elevator door shut, helping her back onto two feet. “What happened to Mike?” He asked.

“Delayed. Going to pick him up now,” Jenny explained, blushing and pushing a button to take them down to the carpark, even though it was already lit up from when David had pushed it.

David whistled. “You never had any younger siblings, did you?”

“No, why?” Jenny asked.

“Well, I just think that if you had known what a bad diaper rash looks like, you might have come up to my place and begged me to borrow those bolt cutters once you found out Mike was going to be late.”

Jenny blushed. “How’d, uh, how’d you know?”

“You wince every time the elevator hits a bump.”

“Oh…” The elevator door dinged and opened onto the car park.

“Good luck,” David added, walking off in a different direction to get to his car.

Jenny managed to waddle over to her own car, slide into the seat, and get it running. She immediately rolled down all the windows to keep the smell from getting too intense, revved up the engine, and headed out to pick up Mike.

Jenny was almost surprised that her twenty minute drive didn’t have a half dozen detours and a few cops pulling her over for a strip search.
Instead, she was at the airport with no delays, circling the pickup area, all without a hitch. It was a bit awkward driving without using her fingers or hands too much, sore as they were, but she managed.

Her phone rang, and she grabbed it, hitting the ‘Answer’ icon as soon as she saw Mike’s name.

“I’m outside,” he said.

“You have no idea how glad I am to hear that,” Jenny said. “I’m about a minute away, just gotta pull through one more time.”

“I am so looking forward to this.”

“Miss me that much?” Jenny asked, grinning in spite of everything.

“Heck, I could jerk off whenever I wanted and I still feel like screwing just about anything that moves at the moment. It’s going to be so much fun to get you home and unlock my little chastity girl.”

“About that,” Jenny said, seeing Mike a few hundred yards away. She rolled up her windows, hoping that the tint and the bright reflection would keep him, or anyone else, from peeking in. “I got you a sort of surprise.”

“What’s that?” Mike asked, and Jenny could just barely make out him tilting his head in confusion.

“Well,” Jenny explained. “Back when we first thought you were leaving, I thought you might enjoy if I… Well, you’ll see in a moment. Point is, I kind of jumped the gun on the surprise and got it started before you left.”

“Well now I’m confused. Can’t I get a hint, or- Oh, I think I see your car.”

“Toss your suitcase in the trunk, then hop in the passenger seat. Should be unlocked. See you in a sec.” Jenny hung up and grinned, eager to see Mike’s reaction.

She stopped, watching through tinted glass as Mike circled the car, opened the trunk, and deposited his load of luggage, then turned to walk towards the passenger door.

It swung open and Mike peered inside, immediately recoiling at the smell. His nose wrinkled up, and then he saw Jenny, and his jaw dropped as he took in what she was wearing. Lacy stockings, Mary Janes, pink onesie, pink skirt, nearly exploding-full diaper.

“Hi,” Jenny said, waving her braced hand in a greeting.

Mike grinned.

Re: Lock and Key (Chp 1-8, updated 3/11)

So glad to see you update this, I was a bit worried it was left for dead.

Re: Lock and Key (Chp 1-8, updated 3/11)

Want to know something funny? I was just running a script to list authors who hadn’t posted/logged in for awhile so I could email them and I was literally just about to send the email to the author of this one when I got the notification it had been updated LOL!