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**spandexman** · October 5, 2015, 07:07 AM

Music to my imagination

Very nice story.

**kochel428** · October 6, 2015, 01:26 AM

Chapter 3.2

Laura didn't start practicing the next morning until after ten. Her guts felt
vaguely queezy from overdoing the whiskey, and she was thankful for her
diaper, letting her relax and not worry about running to the bathroom
constantly.

The bathrobe had stayed on for all of two minutes after her shower. Antoine
had pulled her into his room by the end of the sash, untying the little bow
she had made, and put his hands inside the robe, caressing the small of her
back and feeling the curve of her hips. They had sex twice, the first time
with urgency, all groping hands and arching backs; the second time a few hours
later when Laura found herself blinking awake in the dark of an unfamiliar
room. She began kissing Antoine's neck until he rolled over, and she got on
top of him and rode him gently until they both came, her palms resting on his
chest. Laura hadn't gotten laid all semester, and she found herself laughing
with surprise and pleasure whenever Antoine was inside her. She hadn't
expected that feeling that night, and had forgotten how desperately she needed
it.

They slept like rocks after that, but when Laura's alarm went off she hit
snooze so many times that Antoine finally climbed out of bed and returned a
few minutes later with a travel mug of coffee. He shook her gently awake and
pressed the mug into her hands. "Go practice," he said, "just bring this back
to me at school." Laura stumbled out of bed, borrowed sweats and a t-shirt
from Antoine, and made her way back to her own apartment.

And now she was in her practice room, her diaper full, and the coffee mug
resting on the piano in direct contravention of the rules posted on the door.
(3. The piano is not furniture. Please do not place food, beverages, or cases
on top of it.) Whenever she got immersed in what she was doing, a glance at
the mug would remind her of what she had been doing just a few hours before.

But it also brought up certain fantasies she had been entertaining. She didn't
know what exactly she was hoping would happen after Brendan's recital that
night. She imagined after playing he would be mobbed by a dozen young female
students just like her, crushing out on their teacher, and whatever society
girls and artsy types might come to a concert like that. Classical music was
not rock and roll, but there still seemed to be an aphrodisiac effect when
someone stood up on stage and held an audience in their hands. If she wanted
to get his attention, she would probably have plenty of competition. And
anyway, after last night, she probably shouldn't be sleeping around on
Antoine.

Still, after her morning practice Laura found herself thinking of Brendan as
she masturbated in her diaper. And that afternoon she felt her pussy throb as
she wet herself. "Don't think with your clit," she said out loud to herself in
the dead air of the practice room. But come six o'clock she found herself back
at her apartment, puckering her lips in front of the mirror as she applied
lipstick. She wore knee-high boots and tight jeans, a black top with a
suggestive neckline, and her skintight leather peacoat that left her butt
exposed in all its perky perfection.

Before walking out the door, she put a thumb in her waistband and double
checked. She was wearing a pullup. There would be no repeat of last night.

****

The scene at Le Poisson Rouge was more nightclub than concert hall. In a
dark basement, a flimsy stage was set up in one corner of the room, with a
long bar on the back wall, and round tables set up in between. The venue
was popular among the new music crowd, the hipsters of the classical music
world who prefered art music written by living composers. The audience here
was a mix of goth and geek-chic, with a smattering of the more typical staid
classical concertgoers. Laura spotted a pianist she knew in one corner, and a
composer who was a grad student at Juilliard. She took a barstool and drank a
beer while she waited for the concert to start.

Then Brendan walked onstage and Laura felt her pussy swell. She had never seen
Brendan perform, and watching him own the stage before he even started playing
was awe-inspiring. He played magnificently, meditatively, a strange mix of
cerebral risk-taking and white hot energy. By the time his set was finished,
Laura was on her third beer and well-buzzed.

Watching from her barstool perch, Laura could see a small gaggle of hipsters
follow him back to the greenroom. She imagined him shaking hands with the
composers and hangers-on who wanted to make sure he saw them there, giving
hugs to women he knew peripherally, and scanning the group for her face. She
bided her time, though. Between the first and second piece Brendan played, he
had glanced to the back of the room and made eye contact with her. His eyes
went back there again during a long rest in his commissioned work, and again
before he played the last piece. Brendan may have owned the room, but Laura
knew that, at least that night, she owned him.

The stage crew began setting up for the next act, and a DJ started playing
low-key indie rock. Twenty minutes after his set ended, Brendan emerged from
the greenroom and walked the perimeter of the room, shaking hands and waving
as he went, and finally arrived at the stool next to her.

There were smiles and hi's, and a chaste hug, and Brendan sat down and ordered
a beer. "Sounded good," Laura ventured. Brendan shrugged. "That was daring of
you to play with piano at LPR."

Brendan chuckled. "Yes. Maurice actually had to call in his piano tuner this
afternoon to make sure it was in shape for the concert. You should have heard
him complaining about people sticking screws and bolts between the strings."

"I hope they paid you extra for that?"

"What, for tuning the piano or for listening to him complain?" Brendan smiled
warmly at her then, his post-concert facade lifting. "I'm glad you could make
it."

When Brendan finished his beer, he suggested they find someplace with cheaper
drinks. Laura happily obliged. They wandered through the NYU crowd in the West
Village for a while, finally settling on a dingy bar on Sullivan Street. Laura
had to pee like mad, but she wasn't about to leave Brendan's side yet. In some
far off fantasy world, she was also saving up for certain eventualities.

Sitting side by side at the quieter end of the bar, they both ordered beers
and sampled them without much conversation. They had been talking so easily
before, and Laura thought she sensed that Brendan wanted to broach an
uncomfortable subject. She had had enough to drink by then that she was ready
to do the broaching herself. She opened her mouth to speak but suddenly found
herself just as tongue-tied as him. Instead, she announced, "I have to pee."
Maybe that could slide into the subject slantwise.

Brendan glanced sidelong at her, then brought his beer to his lips. "I bet you
do." They both paused again and then he wandered closer to the heart of
things. "I bet you're not used to having to hold it these days. I know I got a
little careless when I was..." He trailed off and took another swig.

"When you were getting ready for the competition, did you ever wear diapers
when you didn't have to?"

Brendan finished gulping down his beer and flagged down the bartender. He
ordered another beer and sat tapping his finger on the bar until it came.
Laura waited patiently. Brendan stared at the beer.

Finally he gave a little chuckle. "One time – I'd probably been wearing, uh,
diapers for three or four months, just in the morning, you know, so I didn't
spend so much time on the toilet when I should have been practicing. So I had
this concert up in... Rochester? I think it was Rochester. Yes, because it was
for some festival at Eastman. So I was driving back to the city the next
morning, and I had to go, you know. And then I just went in my pants, kind of
without thinking. It was just, 'this is how I deal with having to go now,' and
I just did it, and of course then I realised I wasn't wearing protection,
after I had already gone."

Laura started laughing, and Brendan stared at her. Between giggles she said,
"That exact same thing happened to me last night. I was at a concert and I had
to pee, and I was just like, I'll go in my diaper. So I peed, but I wasn't
wearing a diaper."

Brendan smiled and then laughed along with her. "The thing is, though," he
said, "I didn't think I was wearing a diaper, I just wasn't thinking about it
at all. I bypassed the part of my brain that would have been worried about
when and where you're supposed to go, and just did it." He went back to his
beer for a moment, then continued. "Of course then I couldn't get out of the
car and go to a rest stop for the rest of the trip, so I had to go in my pants
two more times. Pissed myself too. I wore diapers a lot more after that, to
uh, answer your original question."

Laura took his hand that was resting on the bar, and he turned to her, and
then they were kissing hungrily. His hands were strong and deft, and they
found her neck and back, caressed around her hips and thighs. They paused when
they moved over the pullup she was wearing, but they didn't stop.

After what seemed like an hour, Brendan pulled away breathlessly. "I have a
hotel room on the Upper East Side."

"My apartment is closer. Let's go there."

They finished their beers quickly, split the check, and then burst out into
the cold night air. Brendan started to hail a cab, but Laura said, "No let's
walk. If we take a cab I'm going to pee all over it." She'd had four beers
without a trip to the bathroom, and her pee was about to start flowing whether
she wanted it to or not.

"I thought you were wearing a...?"

"Yes but it'll leak."

They started walking, their hands all over each other, stopping sometimes to
kiss. Laura began to feel her bladder pulsing with need, and finally she
stopped walking and bent over in pain. She forced herself to stand up, and
then closed her eyes and relaxed, and instantly flooded herself. The pee
trickled and washed around her pussy, and flowed over the edges of her pullup
as if it wasn't there, soaking her jeans down to her knees. Brendan stood
there watching her ecstasy for a moment, then stepped up to her and kissed the
top of her head. Then he pulled her hips into his, his hand cupped on her wet
ass, and he kissed her passionately. Then, wordlessly, they resumed walking.

Laura continued to pee as they walked, her bladder refilling seemingly without
end. The pullup did a better job of holding when she let it out in little
spurts. Around midtown they cut west to the river to avoid the Times Square
crowd, and as they wound through the park that ran along the water, Brendan
began to look furtive. "I should probably have gone pee at the bar before we
left."

Laura looked around at the empty park. "Maybe you can just go behind a tree?"

Brendan shook his head. "I'm sure that's just when a cop will come by."

They walked a while longer, and Laura said, "The first time I came to you, you
said something..." making out with Bredan while her pants were full of piss
had made her brave. "You said it looked like I enjoyed it. Going in my pants."
They stopped walking and Brendan leaned down to kiss her again, but Laura
demurred, instead burying her face in Brendan's chest. He was a good five or
six inches taller than she was, and she enjoyed feeling his size against her.
Finally she spoke again, "I was wondering if maybe... you enjoy it when I go
in my pants, too."

He kissed the top of her head again and let out a slow breath. He waited so
long she thought he wasn't going to respond, but then he said quietly, almost
inaudibly, "Yes."

Then Laura was all action. She pulled him back against a rock in a bushy
little bend of the path. She put her hands on his chest. "I'm wearing a
diaper. You should pee in my pants."

She could see his face redden in the pale light, but he said nothing, and she
reached down and unbuttoned his pants, slowly pulling the zipper down. She did
the same for herself, and unzipped her jacket, parting it slightly. Then she
reached into the waistband of his underwear, but he intercepted her hand
before it reached his penis and whispered in her ear, "Hold you pants open for
me." She did as she was told, and he freed his cock. It was too dark and they
were too close for her to get a good look at it, but she could tell when he
inserted it in her waistband that it was large enough to match the rest of
him. They pressed together, and he let his hands drop free once he was fully
in position. Her heart was pounding like a waterfall in her ears. He held her
close and kissed her, and she felt the first spurts.

It began by trickling through her pubic hair, rewetting her pussy and mons.
Then his stream grew stronger and she felt it flood her pullup, the hot liquid
playing around her crotch and butt and pooling, then overflowing into her
jeans, making a river down to her knees and approaching her boots. The stream
faded as she felt him start to get hard. He began to rub his cock in and
out against her soaked clit, but she stayed him with her hand and said, "Not
here." She held him there long enough to rewet herself, then they kissed again
and separated, zipping their pants back up and ambling back to the path.
Laura could feel herself squishing as she went.

Her body was tingling then, and she nuzzled up to Brendan as they walked.
"Feel better now?" He nodded and took her hand.

****

Home, Brendan pushed Laura against the wall of her foyer the moment they were
through the door, pulling down her wet pants and struggling with her boots
before giving up and reaching to her slippery pussy, her jeans and saturated
pullup around her knees. She gasped as his finger slid into her, and she
leaned back and let him kiss her neck while she succumbed to pleasure. She
came hard, doubling over as her knees buckled, and as she leaned into him
catching her breath, she opened his pants and began stroking his penis,
already hard and straining against his underwear. She knelt down, her wet
knees slipping on the cold tile floor, and took him into her mouth.

Brendan stopped her before he came, and hoisting her up in his arms, carried
her into the living room. "It's the door on the right," she directed, and he
brought her to the bedroom, putting her gently down just short of the bed.
Giggling, they stripped off each other's clothes. Laura fumbled with a condom,
and then they were in bed, fucking desperately.

Afterward, they lay together and Brendan tried to talk, but he drifted to
sleep quickly. Laura rested her head on his chest and listened to his
breathing. Brendan was much older than her, a growing power in the music
world, and she wondered if she should feel taken advantage of. Certainly he
could help her career, or hurt it if things didn't work out. If people found
out, they might think she was sleeping with him to get ahead, or that he was a
creep for sleeping with a college student who came to him for help.

But there was a difference between Brendan and someone vaguely predatory like
Josh Bell. They were together because of a common experience that few others
could understand. Antoine, for instance, could respect her dedication and
maybe even feel a little sorry for her that she had to go through such an
ordeal, but how could she ever tell him how good it felt to fill her pants
with her own mess? Brendan could barely talk about it, and he felt the same
way.

Antoine. She hadn't even thought of him all night, and yet the night before
she had lay cuddled in his arms just like this.

She lay awake for a long time thinking, dozing and reawakening several times.
When the cold dawn light began to filter through her window, she got up and
started to get ready for her day, slipping on a bra and panties, doing dishes,
making coffee. A few minutes after she ran the coffee grinder Brendan emerged
from the bedroom clad only in his boxer-briefs, and offered to make her an
omelette. As he stood over the stove he reminisced about the family he had
stayed with while on tour in France, the husband who had tought him about
French wine and the wife who had taught him how to make omelettes and potatoes
gratin�e.

I wonder if Antoine would teach me how to make omelettes, she thought, and
then she felt a little sick.

Still, watching Brendan parade about half naked was quite a turn on. He had
always looked skinny, but now that she had been wrapped in his arms she
realized this was a bit of an illusion. He was tall, and his arms were long
enough to hide how well-muscled they were. He was thick in all the right
places, and now she enjoyed watching his back and butt flex as he tended the
eggs.

They sat in their underwear at the table in Laura's sun-filled kitchen,
feasting on coffee and eggs in relative silence. It was a little awkward,
Laura thought. Then Brendan piped up. "I want you to know that we don't have
to keep seeing each other if you don't want, or we can just go back to the way
things were. I don't want you to feel pressured."

Laura took his hand as she had the night before. "These eggs are really good.
You should teach me the trick," she said.

****

The sun got higher and they finished breakfast and sat sipping on their second
cups of coffee, finally chatting easily again. Laura felt her stomach rumble
and her bowels wake up.

"It's time for me to go to the bathroom," she said, but she didn't get up.

Brendan perked up at that, in his face and the front of his pants. He sat back
as if preparing for a show. "What are you going to do about it?" he asked.

It was like he was finally saying out loud the pageant they had been enacting
for months. But starting from there, Laura could see the way to something new.
She felt herself start to open, the mess inside her beginning to push its way
out, but she sat firmly and let her chair stall its progress. She tried to
hide her quivering voice. "I'm not going to do anything about it. I've shown
off for you plenty of times. Now it's your turn." Hearing the words come out
her mouth, she felt possessed.

Brendan looked bewildered. "I haven't done that since..."

"Come on now, you mean to tell me you enjoy watching me do it so much, but you
don't love to do it yourself?" She got got up and straddled him, and as she
did her bowel movement resumed slowly pushing out of her, until she could feel
a golfball-sized lump break off into her panties. She rubbed his cock lightly
through his underwear while she kissed him. "Do it for me. I want to see what
it's like from the other side." Giving him one last teasing rub, she returned
to her seat and assumed the same pose Brendan had the moment before. She tried
to be nonchalant, to hide the fact that she was already messing herself as she
gave him commands, but her heart was pounding.

Brendan stood up. "Ok. Here we go." He stood motionless, straining. A small
trickle of pee erupted on the front of his briefs. Laura waved her finger in a
circular motion, and he nodded and turned around so she could watch his ass.
He leaned over slightly and resumed pushing. After a minute he said, "I don't
think it's going to come."

"Do you have to go?"

"Actually I really have to go. It's just not... coming."

Laura had no idea what she was doing, but she was still hoping to seem like an
old hand at this. She deepened her voice like an old-time movie femme fatale.
"Relax, baby, I believe in you." She was acutely aware of the lump pressing
into her hole, and the huge movement inside her pressing to be let out.

Brendan laughed, not exactly the effect she was going for, but she saw his
shoulders lose their rigidity. And then, in an instant, his seat expanded with
a crackling sound, the soft fabric moulding to the lumpy mass that rested
between his buttocks. It was the size of a small grapefruit. When he turned
around, she saw a large wet spot on his front where he had peed more as he
pushed out his mess.

"Now sit down," she commanded. Without question this time, he eased down
slowly onto the hard wooden kitchen chair. The same sensations she was used to
feeling when she sat in her diaper were now playing across his face. After a
moment he shuddered with some mix of pleasure and revulsion, and rested back
in his seat. Laura stood up, but instead of going to Brendan she said, "Stay,"
and went into the bedroom. She emerged a moment later, still trying to play it
cool, and knelt before him. Pulling his hard cock through the fly on the front
of his underwear was a challenge, but she thought she managed it without
looking too silly. She stroked it lightly with her fingers, and then slipped
on the condom she had fetched. Brendan moaned quietly and rocked his ass on
the chair, and Laura pulled the gusset of her panties aside and took him
inside her, straddling him. She moved slowly up and down, and guided his hand
down to her butt, so he could feel the mess she had already made.

Taking his face in her hands, she kissed him forcefully and said, "You did
very well. Now it's my turn." She struggled to keep sliding up and down while
she pushed. It was an unfamiliar sensation, being penetrated while she did
this, but it only took a moment for her to overcome her habit and let go.
She opened herself to let him in, and let it out, his cock gliding and tugging
at her lips, her mess spreading and splitting her. The front of her panties
were suddenly wet as her bladder opened unbidden, the piss joining the
slippery wetness of her pussy and the shifting, pulsing, slowly growing mass
behind her. The place between her legs was her whole body – her neck, her
breasts, her toes all quivered with the sense of pushing out, pulling in,
letting go, everything expanded and open, suspended. Her throat was raw and
she realized she was moaning, and then her body coursed with electricity and
his cock was throbbing its load into her, and they came in each other's arms.

She became aware of the feeling of her mess stretched into the elastic of her
panties and pushing up against her, different from the feeling of a full
diaper, and decided she liked the sensation. Her pee was still flowing slowly,
rolling down his front and over the edge of the chair in a little waterfall.
She slowed her rocking and then stopped, and they held still there, gasping
for breath. Laura laughed gently and kissed him, and they stayed that way for
what felt like a long time.

**progpoop** · October 6, 2015, 08:50 AM

Holy shit, bro! Amazing stuff!

**kochel428** · October 8, 2015, 04:23 AM

Thanks for the comments, guys! I love to hear what people think.

This is the third and final part of chapter 3. I can now say definitively that there will be only one more chapter of this story. Thanks for reading!

Chapter 3.3

The shower felt good on Laura's back, and Brendan felt even better against her
front, pressing into her breasts and lips and pussy. They scrubbed each other
slowly, steam rising around them and making the bathroom into a warm cloud.
Laura had the soap and was rubbing Brendan down for the third time, playing
with his ass and balls, and lightening her touch as she reached his taut
penis, making him moan and strain and press against her, but not letting him
climax. Then it was her turn again, and Brendan's expert fingers seemed to be
everywhere, but always exactly the right place, the soapy lather dripping
slowly down her thighs as she struggled to stay standing and ached for
release. They played in the shower until the water began to run cold and their
legs were sore from tension. Laura finally knelt and took him into her mouth
and let him come, swallowing his seed.

****

As they toweled off, Laura felt a building need in her bowels again. They
dressed and brewed another pot of coffee and laughed about Brendan "going
commando" while Laura was wearing a diaper. "What's the opposite of going
commando? Going Bambi?" Laura wondered aloud. Brendan laughed, "Where in the
world did you get that from?" And then he asked if he could borrow her travel
mug that was in the dish drain.

Laura felt a lump in her throat. It was Antoine's travel mug. She stifled the
urge to cry and instead rummaged through the kitchen cabinet until she found
her own mug and let him use that. Then she pushed him out the door, rather too
abruptly, and melted to the floor, tears stinging her eyes. She had to go to
the bathroom, but her legs felt too weak to get up. I may as well just do it.
It's all I do now, isn't it? Sobbing lightly, she pushed her load into her
pants and felt its warmth against her skin. It calmed her somehow, and after a
few minutes she had the strength to go to her bed and fall into it, and felt
the contents of her diaper slip to one side.

She startled awake, not knowing how long she had slept. Reaching for her phone
she saw it was well past noon, though she had no idea what time Brendan had
left. She felt the fullness in her pants, and an ache in her bladder. Pushing
thoughts of Antoine and Brendan to the back of her mind, she smiled and lay
her head back, letting herself pee, the hot liquid washing down her pussy and
pooling under her butt. Arching her back and reaching her hand between her
legs, Laura delicately pressed the wetness into her, the soft damp fabric
meeting the softness of her sex. It took only the lightest touch and she
gasped with surprise as she came suddenly. Her hips kept rocking slowly of
their own accord and she dosed for a few minutes, enjoying the prickling of
her nerve endings that seemed alive all over her body.

As she slowly came back to consciousness, an idea formed in her mind. Picking
up her phone again, she sent a quick text message. Need to talk. SOS.

The response was almost immediate. You home? and then Right around
the corner. Meet at joe 5 min?

Laura wiped her eyes off and reapplied mascara – pausing just a moment to
push another small bowel movement into her pants – then threw on her coat and
was sitting in the coffee shop across the street in less than five minutes.
She ordered a latte and found a chair, enjoying the squish in her pants as she
settled in. The barista brought her drink just as Tabitha walked in.

Laura had met Tabitha Lipinsky when she had briefly looked for new management
right before starting at Juilliard. Tabitha worked for one of the firms she
had looked at, and even though they had never made a business arrangement,
Laura had been in awe of the glamorous, put-together young woman she had met
with. She was in her late twenties and seemed to have figured everything out,
to know everyone, and to have done everything. She had become something of a
big sister to Laura over the last three years, and Laura would seek her advice
on anything from where to book her next concert to where to procure illicit
drugs. She knew Tabitha would be able to help her sort out the mess she had
made in the last two days.

Tabitha hardly batted an eye at Laura's story. She left out a few details, of
course, and when she was finished she suddenly felt uncomfortable sitting in
her own mess, and wondered if Tabitha could see through her.

"So this is what I'm hearing from you" – Tabitha always spoke with corporate-
inflected knowing – "You like Antoine, you feel good around him and
unselfconscious. Brendan makes you feel uncomfortable, but in a good way. He's
super hot, and the sex is mindblowingly amazing. Is this accurate?"

Laura nodded, "Antoine is my friend, and he sort of... has the prior claim?
You know, I slept with him first."

Tabitha burst out laughing, and Laura felt her face grow hot. "Honey, neither
of these men has any claim on you. Fuck, date them both."

"But is that—?" Laura couldn't put any objection into words. It just seemed
wrong.

"Look, you've got two hot guys, you don't know which one you like best, and
they are both sleeping with you, no questions asked. You know how often that
happens in life? Not often. I dated two guys at once for a month or so a
few years back. Trust me, it's the hottest thing you'll ever do. You get to do
one guy in the morning and another one that night, and it's your little
secret. Hell, if he wants to see you two nights in a row, call the other one
for a nooner in between."

Laura gaped incredulously. Tabitha only laughed at her. "Come on, you're only
young once, and this won't be a permanent situation. Just use protection, kid."

****

And just like that, winter break was over. The Sunday before classes started,
Laura woke up early. Antoine was still asleep, but she pushed him onto his
back and started felating him. He moaned hoarsely as his cock hardened, and he
tried to push her away. "I have to pee first," he said.

"I have to pee too," she countered. "You have to fuck me first." She straddled
him as he struggled, and gently held him down, taking him inside her, feeling
him press against her full-to-overflowing bladder. With each thrust, she felt
her muscles weaken, until she was letting tiny spurts out each time his cock
hit her bladder. It was little enough liquid that she hoped it just seemed
like she was copiously aroused, but it felt amazing. She wondered if his
bladder was as full as hers.

Antoine hadn't been with anyone else in half a year, and they had abandoned
condoms within a week. She loved feeling his naked skin against her, it felt
intimate and sensual, and she loved falling asleep at night with him still inside
her, their limbs intertwined. She was always more careful with Brendan. Not
because she didn't trust him, but somehow he just felt more dangerous.

They came together, and then Antoine rolled over and fell back to sleep, while
Laura hopped in the shower and let her piss run down her legs. She dressed,
brewed coffee, and kissed Antoine, still asleep in bed, on her way out the
door. "Stay as long as you like, I'll be back tonight. I'm going to play for
Brendan."

She slung her violin case over her shoulder and made her way to the train
station. She was feeling desperate to let her bowels go already when she found
her seat on the train, but she clenched herself shut and tried to hold on as
best she could on the long train ride out to Stony Brook. She bounced and
contorted herself, but as she neared her stop she felt her anus begin to
expand and her bowel movement started pushing its way out slowly.

As she stood, the load was allowed more room and continued out under its own
power. She was finally able to close herself off with what felt like a small
banana already in her pants. Her muscles quivered with the effort of holding
in the rest, and she walked quickly down the street to Brendan's house.

She squirmed on his porch for just a moment before he opened the door, and
pushed him inside immediately. Shoving him gently onto the chair, she sat
in his lap facing him, and released herself as they made out. One quick push
and her pants were filled completely, her seat expanding to push against his
crotch, which was expanding as well. "Do you have to go?" she asked. His
response was quiet, "I have to pee." "Good. Do it."

Leaning back so she could watch, Laura saw a small wet spot appear on the
front of his jeans, and then expand quickly, glistening and spreading, flowing
off the chair to form a puddle on the floor, and absorbing up into her jeans
as well. "Keep going," she instructed, "empty yourself." He kept peeing for a
long time, and by the time both of their pants were completely soaked, she
giggled and said, "Aw, were you holding all morning just for me?" Without
waiting for a reply, she reached down and began unbuttoning his fly.

****

In the end, Laura didn't come back until the next morning. She was glad to
have brought an extra box of diapers to Brendan's house – she used one on the
train on the way back, and again as she warmed up for her lesson with Ilyan.

There in the practice room, as she pushed her second bowel movement of the day
into her already full pants, she thought about the last few weeks. She had had
more sex in that time than in the rest of her life combined, she thought. That
was probably an exaggeration, but it seemed like she had a cock inside her for
at least a third of the time. She enjoyed Antoine. She liked the hell out of
him. But she hadn't been able to stop seeing Brendan either. As a person, he
was still a cypher to her, but she was constantly finding new depths to their
shared interest. She felt dirty when she was with him, but she also felt so,
so good.

Tabitha had been right, there was a special naughtiness to dating two men.
There was the time Brendan had come to stay over in her apartment, and she had
left him there for the day while she went to school. But instead of practicing
she had sex with Antoine in a practice room twice. When she returned home to
find Brendan waiting for her in a full diaper, they had fucked like rabbits on
the floor, and then again in the shower. Laura's pussy had been so sore that
night she had to massage it with moisturizer, but that hadn't stopped her from
coming again when Brendan decided to help.

There was the time Laura came to a show Brendan played, and filled her pants
for him while she gave him a blow job backstage during intermission. Brendan
had to get on a plane that night for a concert in Miami, so she had met up
with Antoine at her apartment. He wrinkled his nose when she showed up with a
load in her diaper, but he was hard and ready when she emerged from the shower
all fresh and clean. She loved the smoothness of his face and his gentle
hands, and his sweet eagerness when they made love. Tabitha had assured her it
wasn't cheating as long as they never said the word "exclusive," but as she
lay that night with her head on his chest, they danced around the word "love"
instead.

And now, in the practice room, the violin felt stubborn in her hands, like
every bow stroke was a complaint. She wasn't ready for her lesson today, but
Ilyan liked to see all his students on the first day of the semester to check
in on their progress and set goals for the semester. She thought of all the
times she had a penis in her mouth over break, and felt embarrassed that she
hadn't practiced as much as she had planned.

There wasn't time to go home and clean up before her lesson, scheduled for the
dreary 11am hour, so she made her way to his seventh floor studio with two
loads in her pants. She loved the feeling, and yet as she ascended in the
elevator she was suddenly annoyed that her teacher had put her in this
position. Somehow all her wasted time this break seemed to come from whatever
had awakened in her when she started using diapers. It's because of him that
I'm in this situation in the first place, she thought, so he better not mind
seeing my pants all bulging and messy.

Ilyan didn't say a word about the state of her diaper. He just sat on his
stool expectantly and said, "So what weel you play for me today?" Laura
launched into a Beethoven sonata, a safer choice than the Brahms, which seemed
to deteriorate immediately with neglect, but Ilyan stopped her after the
second phrase. "Your C sharp. Flat." Laura shook her head and started over.
She barely got two measures in before Ilyan broke in again, "No no no no no,"
he shook his head, a vein bulging on his forehead. "What is this? This line is
all wrong. It is like this, da daaaa da DEEEM!" he sang pitchlessly, with
growing agitation. Laura found herself shaking slightly, and felt the contents
of her pants pressing up against her, reminding her of her misspent time. She
raised the violin again, took a deep breath, and began playing again, da daaa
da DEEEM, and cracked the note in her eagerness to get the right emphasis.

She let her violin drop from her neck and faught back tears. Ilyan sat with
his arms crossed. Neither said anything for a moment, and then the old man
reached for his tea and took a sip. His face softened. "You have had good
vacation. Good time. You have rest. No?" Laura found herself smiling; she
nodded. "Good. Is marathon, preparing for competition. You have your rest. Now
is work. Work is the important thing, or what is this thing" – he pointed to
the bulge in her pants – "what is it for?"

Laura felt her eyes sting again, and she nodded assent.

Her teacher smiled broadly. "Good. Now is scale. Play for me E major."

Her violin back in playing position, she began a slow scale up from the bottom
of the instrument, finding the smoothness in her sound. She would be better
from now on. Neither Brendan nor Antoine was as important as this right here,
this search for perfection. As she rounded the top of the scale, she
absentmindedly felt her bladder let go, tickling and warming her.

**progpoop** · October 8, 2015, 05:27 AM

I've gotta say man, I'm actually going to be a little sad when the next chapters are posted, knowing this will be over. Kind of bittersweet, like reading Narada's final Naruma and Mandy story.

Great work, dude. I really hope that chapter four only marks the end of this particular tale, and not the end of your writing here. There is a paucity of good writers in this fetish anymore, and you're one of the few truly awesome ones. Thanks for sharing.

**kochel428** · October 8, 2015, 06:30 AM

Thanks for your kind words. Being compared to Narada is probably the highest praise I can think of for this genre.

And don't worry, I get a kick out of writing these stories. I'm not done here, just finishing up this storyline. I have a few other ideas, including a second part for Franny and the Infinite Ocean and another standalone story. And more! And more!

**spandexman** · October 8, 2015, 09:31 AM

Great story

You're a very talented writer.

**diaperdude7** · October 8, 2015, 07:07 PM

Outstanding work. As it was said before, there's a scarcity of writers on this board that can craft such amazing, detailed, and erotic pieces especially in this genre. Well done and can't wait for the conclusion as well as more stories from you!

**Hingy** · October 11, 2015, 08:12 AM

Really excellent writing Kochel, I find it equally good - if not better than the old Sammy stories by MJMurra, which I have had as a favorite for some time. Excellent narrating, descpritions - the lot. Keep it up.

**skixc2** · October 15, 2015, 12:14 PM

I somehow missed the first two of these, but this is the best story I've read in years, perhaps ever!

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