Chapter Seven

Saying no to Vivian was…difficult; mostly because I really wanted to say yes. So, I did. Over and over. A second glass with dinner turned to three turned to four and, before I knew it, we ended up back on the parlor couch drinking after dinner cocktails. Needless to say, it was a foregone conclusion by then that I would be staying in the guest room. It wasn’t like I would wet the bed again, right?

Maybe you want to.

Of course not, why would I want that?

So Vivian will comfort you and hold you again? For the rush of the humiliation? So Vivian will know you’re a little piss baby?

Shut up, I’m trying to listen to Vivian.

Don’t you mean “Miss Vivian”?

Miss Vivian.

I shuddered.

“Oh, dear, are you cold?” Vivian had been telling me some anecdotes from her time as an undergraduate, but she interrupted herself when she saw me shudder. “I can start a fire, if you’d like,” she offered as she gestured to the fireplace.

Ask her to hold you instead.

“No, thank you, I’m fine,” my cheeks were certainly warm. I took another sip of my drink—a Manhattan strong enough to warm the rest of me—and settled myself deeper into the plush couch…and closer to Vivian.

A silence stretched out between us, interrupted only be the occasional tinkling of ice against our glasses as we nursed our cocktails. I couldn’t help but look at her glossy red lips and think about what they’d feel like pressed against mine; I couldn’t help but imagine myself purring out her name—Miss Vivian—while she gently touched me. Worse, the alcohol was doing what alcohol was wont to do: my head was fuzzy, my judgement less than stellar, and I was…well, there was no word for it but horny. The latter wasn’t helped by the fourth effect of the alcohol: I had to pee—badly at that. But my impaired judgement kept me there, not just because I was enraptured by Vivian, but because the pain in my bladder fed my horniness and sent my imagination running. It was a vicious cycle of poor judgement, horniness, and urinary distress.

“You know, Lavender,” Vivian finally broke the silence, “I’ve always loved your hair.” She reached out and ran her fingers through a chunk of my blue hair. At least, right now it was blue. In the time I had known Vivian it had been pink, purple, green, and now blue. “Your whole aesthetic, really. So many doctoral students are so concerned about professionalism and respectability politics; they try to blend into what they think that have to be to be taken seriously in academia. But you, Lavender, aren’t afraid to be who you are, to express yourself, to be a little…bold.”

Now my cheeks were really burning.

Still think she isn’t flirting with you?

She’s definitely flirting with me.

I swallowed hard. “Thank you…Vivian…” I managed to get out in just above a whisper. She was still playing with my hair; the sensation make it hard to think clearly.

“I’m so glad you agreed to spend the evening with me,” she smiled and took a sip of her drink. For the first time it occurred to me that Vivian was probably just as inebriated as I was. “I was afraid you wouldn’t after…well, after last time.”

Is she talking about you pissing the bed?

I bit my lip and looked away. My face was hot. My bladder ached.

Piss yourself, blame it on the alcohol.

And completely ruin this moment?

Wouldn’t this moment be so much better if Miss Vivian was comforting you? Maybe she’ll take you upstairs and put you in a pull up after getting you all cleaned up.

My face was on fire.

“I’m so sorry,” Vivian said, surely picking up on my shame and misattributing it to what she had said, “I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

“No, it’s okay,” I tried to turn my face back to her but found I couldn’t bring myself to look at her. “I’m just…so sorry about that…”

I wanted to change the subject.

Is that why you’re pressing your thighs together right now? Is that why your panties are starting to feel damp? Or did you piss yourself a little bit?

Vivian smiled and ran her fingers gently through my hair. “You poor thing, it must have been so hard hiding it from your roommates in the dorms.”

Hiding what? My kinks? A small speck of panic bloomed in my chest; how did she even know?

“Do you have a roommate now, Lavender?”

I nodded my head weakly. “Elyse,” I said flatly, “we live in graduate housing.”

“Poor thing,” she repeated, “have you managed to keep it a secret from her?”

I nodded. The panic grew. How could she know? Why was she bringing it up? Did she think I had wet the bed on purpose?

“Oh, Lavender,” Vivian set her drink on the table and took my hand, “it’s really okay! I promise, I’m not judging or trying to make you feel bad. I certainly don’t think any less of you because of it!”

I sniffled, “really?”

“Really! It’s just part of who you are, Lavender,” she let get of my hand, reached out to place one gentle finger under my chin, and lifted my face to meet hers, “and I think who you are is pretty wonderful.”

My chest felt so full of emotions that I thought I would surely explode. I could scarcely believe what was happening.

Vivian leaned in, I closed my eyes, she cupped my cheek with her hand. our lips met, lights exploded against the back of my eyelids, a small whimper escaped my throat. She tasted like cherries and bourbon.

And then I was laying back on the couch, Vivian over top of me, her hair draped around my face as our lips moved against each other. One of my hands was on her hip, the other on her lower rib cage, working up the courage to cup her breast.

I couldn’t believe it: I was making out with Dr. Vivian Devereux. Not only that, she had just told me she accepted me for my unusual kinks; even if I had no idea how she had found out. I kissed her deeply and allowed my mind to wander to my secret fantasies.

“Come now,” Miss Vivian would say as she took my hand, “it’s time to get my little girl all ready for bed.”

I would nod and smile behind my pacifier, letting her lead me upstairs to the guest room, which in my fantasy had been converted to something much more appropriate for a little girl. Once we were there, Miss Vivian would let go of my hand, and spread out my changing mat on the bed. “Hop on up,” she would say before helping me get myself situated on the mat. She would smile and hum as she lifted my skirt and pulled down my panties…no, my pull-up. “I’m so proud of my little girl for staying dry tonight, even after having so many big girl drinks!” I would giggle and blush, hiding my face behind my hands.

And then Miss Vivian would be there above me, unfolding my…my diaper…

My cheeks went crimson, and a moan escaped my throat. Vivian made a sound of pleasure back and kissed me harder.

“Lift up,” Miss Vivian would say, tapping my hips, and then slide the diaper under my raised butt. “Now down; good girl!”

I moaned again, and Vivian shifted her weight so she could place one of her hands on my thighs, just below the hem of my skirt. Jolts of excitement shot through my body, but so did a very specific kind of pain: Vivian’s body was pressed down on mine, and I suddenly remembered just how badly I had to pee. Vivian’s hand inched up my leg, I shuddered, my muscles convulsing slightly, and a small bit of warmth filled my panties.

Fuck.

“Vivian,” I said breathlessly.

“Mm?” Vivian made a questioning sound but made no move to stop or get off me.

“Vivian, please,” I gently but firmly pushed her away from me as panic started to fill me and another bit of pee escaped into my panties.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, immediately stopping. Her lipstick was smeared across her face, “are you okay, Lavender?”

“I, um,” I bit my lip and looked away, why as this so embarrassing all of the sudden? “I need to use the restroom.”

Vivian looked at me blankly for a second, as if it was taking her a moment to process what I said, then understanding visibly dawned on her. “Oh! Oh, yes, I’m so sorry, you remember where it is?” She climbed off me, accidentally pressing down on my bladder as she did, pushing out more pee that spread out through my panties.

I scrambled off the couch, “yes, I’ll just be right-”

I froze three steps from the couch as a rivulet of pee escaped down my leg, soaking into the tops of my thigh high socks. I pressed my thighs together as tightly as I could and pressed my hands into my crotch through my skirt.

“Oh, Lavender,” Vivian said sympathetically, but clearly at a loss for what to do.

“I’m so sorry,” I squeaked out as I stood in her parlor nearly doubled over from the effort of not pissing myself all over her floor. How did this happen?

Just let it go; she already knows you’re a piss baby.

Tears were forming behind my eyes, and pee was soaking through my skirt under my hands.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Vivian said as she placed a hand on my back, “I promise everything is okay.”

It was too much. The pain in my bladder, the absolute shame over what was happening, Vivian’s understanding and sympathy…it was all too much. Tears started falling down my cheeks as pee started flowing down my thighs. It soaked the front of my skirt and flowed through my fingers. It ran down my thigh high socks and into my black doc martens. It dripped and ran off me in rivers, and a puddle began to spread across the hardwood floor under me.

I had just pissed myself in front of Vivian.