“Okay, we’re here. Just be nice to Rita, okay? And don’t be afraid to ask her for changes if you’re having a hard time-“
“Oh my god, Tina, I’m not actually a toddler! I’m not going to actually have frequent accidents!” Leah spits back as she jumps out of the car. The landing was a bit harder than she expected, forcing her to squat to maintain her posture. Suddenly, an extremely wet, rank, diaper vibrating shart rips through her. Leah is so caught off guard, she freezes on the spot to clench. She face turns bright red as she feels the not-insignificant amount of poop between her cheeks, and a sickly rumble of her stomach and mounting pressure at her hole informs her that there’s a lot more to come. She starts toddling forward as fast as she can with the uncomfortable chafing the mess brings, hoping to ask Rita for her bathroom. She stumbles slightly, eyes too focused on the door, and ends up releasing another gut wrenching fart, sounding like a sputtering chainsaw. More than a little mush exits her behind, making it so there’s no denying Leah pooped her pants like a toddler. Still, Leah holds her iron tight clench to stop anything more from escaping, determined to at least make it to the potty to reaffirm SOME of her big girl status. She slams a palm onto the door bell, then slaps both hand firmly on her butt in a desperate last attempt to keep everything in. Aside from the tunnel-vision panic, she feels a building dread that she’ll be put permanently in diapers after this (and part of her is grateful that she’s wearing a diaper at the moment, making this embarrassing accident far less of a mess). She fights tooth and nail to keep her body locked up, trying to ignore the horrid pain and bloating as she waits for her aunt to come. Her strength wanes as little farts keep escaping, depositing just a little more poop each time. Her eyes close and face tense as she focuses all of her being on not being anymore of a baby, but eventually her strength fails her. Just as she hears the door open does her bowels fully erupt, a practical lava flow of poop filling her already filled diaper. She’s forced to brace both hands on the door frame, putting all of her power into ridding herself of the agony in her gut. For several minutes she stands there, filling the air with a multitude of crackling, wet plops, and tuba-esque toots to show the world she’s nothing more than a little pamper packer. An actual log starts to crown, bulky enough that she has to push. Figuring there’s no point in holding back, she grunts as she deepens her squat to now purposely mess herself. It at least gives her the chance to open her eyes and acknowledge the adults watching her performance. Not even daring to look at her aunt, she looks at Tina to see her look back with…