Chapter 2
When the cops pulled up in the company parking lot, she knew there was no way around getting arrested. Walking barefoot over the rough asphalt, carrying her heels, breasts out, and her butt still unwiped, she must have looked like a madwoman.
They tased her on the spot.
Nigel’s keyboard was probably beyond rescue, and for destruction of property, she expected another weekend in lockup at the county jail. Nothing serious. But much to her surprise, she came to at Hackney Heights for seventy-two hours of observation, a chronically understaffed psychiatric hospital at the edge of town.
“You’re sure you know how the game works?” asked Moira, an obnoxious old woman with an unpleasant voice that grated on Quinn’s nerves. As usual, Moira had her hand in her pants, rubbing herself when nobody from the staff was watching.
“It’s checkers,” said Quinn, moving her piece forward. “I beat you three times in a row.”
Playing board games in the common room was one of the few activities available to pass the time. Most of the playing pieces bore teeth marks, and Eva had swallowed one after breakfast, but they still had enough pieces to play. Most of the other twenty-three women on the ward kept their distance, which suited Quinn just fine. She didn’t need to mingle with the crazies.
After an argument with another inmate and a subsequent scuffle on the first day, a judge – or, more likely, some judicial AI – extended the observation period by another week on a ward with higher security. Four days in, she detested the stale air, the soft pastel colors, the bland food that gave her diarrhea, and the drugged-out zombies roaming the halls.
Moira pulled her hand out of her pants, wiping it on her sweater. “Did you really take a shit on your boss’s desk?”
“Ex-boss, he fired me. That’s why they put this fucking thing on me.”
Quinn shifted in her seat, sweating in her special underwear – a bulky diaper, already well-filled with pee, a thick plastic cover that prevented leakage, and short canvas pants. The pants were secured with a little magnetic lock, ensuring the diaper stayed on and rendering a repeat performance on the common room table impossible.
This wasn’t Diaper Darling’s Dirty Deeds, however, where she would get a change after every scene. The overworked staff here only managed one change per day, before putting her to bed, and a shower twice a week.
Closing her eyes for a moment, she let go of another spurt of pee that was quickly absorbed. It was convenient, but had a frustrating side effect: the thick diaper and the extra two layers were highly effective at preventing masturbation. Days without sex, without Ralph pushing into her dirty ass, without the earthy taste of the cleanup afterwards – it was yet another thing she hated about this place. When her attention shifted back to the board, she jumped up, almost knocking over her chair.
“Hey!” she shouted. “Where did you get that queen? Fucking cheater!”
A few heads turned, curious about the commotion, but most ignored the outburst. A couple of women in straitjackets kept watching, one wearing a spit mask. A few others, diapered like she was, turned back to whatever game they were playing, whispering among themselves. Eva sucked on a bishop from an incomplete chess set as if it were a hard dick.
“Should have paid attention,” said Moira, shrugging. “Don’t be a sore loser.”
“You took one of the eliminated pieces and made a queen with it. That’s cheating.”
Moira stuck out her tongue. “Did not. I know this game, played it when you were still pooping your pants.” She grinned. “I guess you’re back to doing that.”
“Stupid old hag. I’m gonna teach you–”
She reached out for a slap, but stopped when she felt Ernesto’s strong grip on her upper arm. The orderly was a big man, friendly and patient, with an impressive beard. She mused about whether everything about him was as big and impressive, but so far, he had rejected all her advances. It didn’t look like he’d change his mind any time soon.
“Why do you keep playing with her?” he asked in his deep, soothing voice. “I told you Moira is a cheater.”
“Oh, come on! What else is there to do? Some of the magazines we have are older than me.” Quinn nodded towards the TV, mounted high on the wall in a wire-mesh cage. “Does this thing work?”
“You people can never agree on the channel, and the news just upsets everyone.”
Moira reset the board. “How about another round? You suck at the game, but I’m happy to teach you.”
“Fuck you, Moira! I’ll show you what I think of cheaters.”
She turned around and bent over, releasing a massive fart. A strong, satisfying push unloaded her bowels into the diaper, filling it with a warm, brown mush.
A woman at the next table pinched her nose. “Ewww! Quinn did a stinky!”
“Really?” said Ernesto, rolling his eyes. “You know there’s no one to change you. You’ll have to sit in it until shift change.”
“I don’t care.” She glared at Moira, ready to pounce like a caged tiger. “The moment they unlock these pants, I’m gonna take a dump on your ugly face, bitch.”
“Cunt.” Moira stuck out her tongue again. “Smelly cunt.”
Faster than Ernesto could react, Quinn reached out, delivering a hard slap to Moira’s face that echoed in the room. The woman tumbled back a couple of steps, holding her reddening cheek. That at least shut her up.
“Hey!” shouted Ernesto, holding Quinn back. “Stop it!”
“Let go! I’m gonna clock that fucking bitch!”
Her blood boiling, she strained against Ernesto’s strong arm, trying to break loose. For a moment, she remembered Priya, her anger management coach. She imagined the disapproval on the woman’s face, but Priya had probably never had to play checkers against cheaters while being locked in a diaper.
Inhale, exhale. This is for you, Priya.
“That’s better,” said Ernesto, relaxing his grip. “But you know the rules. If you don’t behave, you’re going to bed.”
“To bed? Are you kidding me? It’s not even noon!”
“You’re either going to bed or I’m putting a straitjacket on you. Your choice.”
Damn. Being strapped down at night was bad enough, but if she had to spend the rest of the day like that, she’d go crazy for real. Staring at the ceiling all day, giving mediocre blowjobs to chess pieces. She slammed her fist on the table.
This is fucking bullshit!
“Can’t we resolve this with a blowjob?” she asked without much hope. “I used to shoot porn; I’ll give you the porn star experience. Or we could fuck. I haven’t fucked in almost a week.”
He chuckled. “The answer’s no. It would still be no if you hadn’t just gone potty in your pants. So what’s it gonna be? Bed or straitjacket?”
“Straitjacket. Fuck!”
“Good choice. Now sit that shitty ass of yours on the couch. I’ll be right back.”
With a sigh, she walked over to the beaten old couch and sat down, spreading the contents of her diaper. Some of the warm mass moved to the front, and by tonight, it would be absolutely everywhere, dry and sticking to her skin. It was their problem. She would just lie back and let them clean her up. Tied to the bed hand and foot, lying on plastic sheeting, one of the night nurses would work on her, and it didn’t look like any of them enjoyed it much.
The rest of the group quickly moved to the other side of the room, but with the windows closed, they wouldn’t be able to escape the smell. She grinned, enjoying the disgusted look on Moira’s face. It was all about the little pleasures in this place.
When Ernesto returned with a filthy canvas straitjacket, she got up and straightened her arms in front of her, allowing him to feed her arms into the jacket’s long sleeves. It was only her second time wearing it, but the process was simple enough. He closed the buckles on the backside before making her cross her arms and buckling the sleeves behind her back. A couple of straps, pulled tight between her legs, completed the set of restraints.
“Quinn, seriously,” he said, “it would be a lot easier if you tried to get along with the rest of the group.”
She scoffed, testing the fit of her straitjacket. “I’m not a people person.”
“So I noticed. No provocations – be good and keep your mouth shut. I can still put you to bed, if necessary. Clear?”
“Yes, yes.”
For a moment, she twisted and turned, but it was no use. It was a strange feeling, being this helpless, and yet, something was stirring inside her – something she wasn’t ready to acknowledge. In Tied Up & Turned On, she had spent most of her time in some sort of bondage while a group of men had used her holes, taking her from one screaming orgasm to the next. Sadly, that part of her life was over, and so was the thrill that came with it.
On the positive side, she was able to walk around and look out the shatterproof windows, and unlike the part of her fellow inmates who weren’t diapered, she didn’t need to ask permission to use the bathroom.
Shaking his head, Ernesto slammed the security door behind him. She sank down on the couch, her stomach contracting and rumbling, feeling everyone’s eyes on her. Even Eva had stopped fellating her bishop, clutching the wet playing piece as she stared with wide open eyes.
“What the fuck are you all looking at, huh?” shouted Quinn. “Never seen someone shit themselves?”
It didn’t matter now, anyway. With a grunt, lifting her butt to make room, she pushed another big, creamy load into her diaper. Once it was out, she immediately felt better.
“Enjoy the stink, bitches!”