Cheers to You! - Part Three (Commission)

Thanks to our Gold-tier Patron Samantha for commissioning this third installment of an ongoing story!

You've got to be shitting me right now. That bitch Tiffany just locked me out!

Actually, I'm the one shitting me right now. Hey, fuck off with the judgey-ness already! There's not much else a girl can do when she's just had her ass pumped full of water and then been shoved out the door by her absolute cunt of a roommate, now is there? Such a freaky bitch. And here I thought she was just some goody goody loser...

Here comes another cramp- Ooh, yep- Holy fuck, this is so- so- digusting! And yet- ooohhhhh... such a relief, too. I mean, much as I hate to feel myself spewing shit water out my ass into a fucking pink diaper- Much as I hate how gross and wet and disgusting this thing feels hanging around my waist... Well, it does feel damn good to let all this awful pressure out...

But who'd have ever thought Tiffany was such a piece of fucking work? I mean, who the hell is so freaking weird that they'll tie up their roommate and gag 'em and make 'em do- do- all those horrible things I just had to do? Half of me thinks I should just report her, y'know? Call the college cops and have her charged with assault or some shit like that. But then again...

Yeah—like I'm gonna do that. In this state? And let the entire campus know what she did to me? Jesus fucking Christ, I'd never hear the end of it...

Look at me! I mean, my cheering top is fine, I guess. And my socks and skirt are pretty okay. But all that bitch left me with underneath is this crazy-ass diaper—and it doesn't take a rocket scientist to see that it's pretty fucking used by now, too. Feels like a ton of bricks hanging between my legs—like, eww... And so what am I supposed to do for cheer practice, huh? I've got to be, like, super late already 'cause of that little bitch. Does she really think I'm going to walk all the way over to the stadium like this? No way in hell my skirt can cover that!

Guess there's nothing for it but to pound on the door and beg her to open up.

It takes maybe three or four minutes of yelling and banging until I finally hear the lock turn. "Please, let me in," I beg for what has to be the hundredth time. I want nothing more than to tear her the fuck apart right now, but I've gotta play nice. "Tiffany, I'm sorry I was so mean..." Holy fuck, I sound like I'm eight years old and apologizing for breaking my neighbor's Barbie doll. Is she really going to buy it?

The door cracks open, and I open my mouth to beg forgiveness—grovel—apologize for everything I've ever said—anything to get safely back inside. But before I can even begin, a hand reaches through the slit and shoves a bundle of fabric out to land in a disordered heap at my feet.

I hear the latch click shut and the lock turn once more as I stoop to investigate. Oh, god no, no- "Go on now! And take your shitty pants with you," I hear Tiffany call on the other side of the door. And as I gingerly pick up what I now know to be my smelly, still shit-filled spandex shorts, I swear I can see the smirk on that bitch's stupid face.

Well, fuck. Now what?

I've got a choice here—a stupid, shitty choice. Yeah, yeah, it's a super joke. Shut up! I'm not in the mood. Listen, I've got a fresh outfit already in my locker. Dropped it off there a few days ago after registering. Only problem? It's all the way on the other freaking side of campus.

Yeah.

So what do I do? Stay like this and run over there? No way in hell people won't notice this stupid pink bulge hanging down- How about these shorts? Nope, nope, nope. They're smelly and like, literally full of shit. The last thing I need is to try stepping into them and pulling them up over my socks. Besides, they're fucking spandex; like they're gonna fit over this crazy big diaper?

I guess I could pull the thing off entirely—dump it off in front of our door and let Tiffany deal with the fucking piece of trash? But then what do I wear in the meantime? Can't put on the shitty shorts. Just go commando with a smelly ass that'll get shit all over my clean cheer skirt? And listen—much as I hate to admit it, I still feel sick as hell in my gut. Odds are I'm gonna actually need that diaper another time or two before I get there...

For fuck's sake. I never signed up for this stupid shit!

Well, all things considered I guess I'll have to run for it. It fucking sucks, but you know what sucks worse? Getting found here by one of those cute guys that the other girls are planning to invite over tonight. Yeah, I'll make a run for it. And hey! If someone notices, maybe I can just say it's a sorority pledge thing or some shit like that...

I'm trotting across campus now, eyes on the ground. No eye contact, no eye contact. Pretend I'm late- no wait, I am late. Pretend I'm out jogging. Hah, best jogging outfit ever—a cheer squad outfit and a stupid diaper that's making me waddle like a toddler. Eww, it's getting so itchy... Nope, no eye contact, no eye contact! This bundle of cloth in my hands? No, it's nothing. Definitely not my shorts that need a good rinsing off in the showers...

And all the while I'm remembering the feeling of the gag in my mouth... the helpless struggles on our ugly dorm room carpet... how pathetic and dirty and used I felt while Tiffany was forcing me to crawl, to lie on the floor coloring, to dance for her like a brainless trained monkey... And all this for an ugly, unpopular girl who just happened to find me digging through her shit. How on earth has it come to this?

"Woo-hoo! Kappa Gamma Kappa for the win!" I hear someone yell, and I trot faster. Can't be caught. Can't let them see how fucking disgusting I am... how absolutely filthy I feel. Come on. Almost there. You can do this, girl! Ooh, cramp. Pause- feel another spurt of shit and water fill the smelly diaper even fuller... Ugh. On again!

And then I'm there at last, the stadium looming over me as I breathlessly trot my waddling way toward the changing rooms. Just a little further now. Down the hall. Hang a right- no, fuck! That's the weight room. Left? I turn the corner... and run right into a knot of my soon-to-be cheer partners.

"Oh! Well, hel-lo there... Look who showed up late!"

Fuck.

(To be continued!)