The Astronaut (Patreon Exclusive)

I'm posting this early, 'cuz I can. 

Vera spun slowly in the vacuum of space, stars dancing in her field of view as she pinwheeled. Every thirty seconds or so, she got a brief glimpse of her ship, smaller and smaller in the distance every time she got a look at it.

She groaned in annoyance. This is going to suck.

Thirty minutes earlier, she’d noticed a small leak from an air hose on her cargo ship, which should have been an easy, routine maintenance problem. She’d donned her EMO, a bulky, expensive suit that would protect her from the vacuum of space, picked up her toolkit, and stepped out an airlock to go check it out.

Then, she made two mistakes. She forgot to close a valve while she was checking the air tanks, and she unclipped her old tether before clipping in a new one.

A sudden blast of pure oxygen had vented right into her helmet’s faceplate and Vera lost her grip from surprise, spinning into the void. Had she clipped her new tether before detaching the old, she’d have been fine, but as it was there was nothing to stop her from drifting away without it. She wasn’t going fast - barely a walking pace - but her suit didn’t have any inbuilt propulsion systems.

She was stuck. She wasn’t in any danger; a red-alert ping to her ship would relay a help broadcast to the nearest space station, and a rescue ship would be on its way before long.

Only problem was, Vera was flying out to the rim colonies. The nearest space station was almost three days away, and in her suit, she had nothing to do but wait.

For air, she was set. Filters and O2 storage could keep her breathing for a month. Her suit also had twenty liters of water, enough for a week, and fifteen thousand calories’ worth of a nutrient dense mush. Both could be drunk through a tube, so she was set for food.

Oh no, Mr. Spacesuit Sales Man, she told herself, rolling her eyes. I don’t need the deluxe package with a sound system, video display, and waste disposal system - It’s just for routine maintenance! It’s not like I’ll be wearing it all day.

All she could do was eat, sleep, and slowly, slowly spin. She wasn’t in danger, she wasn’t able to do anything, she was just going to be very, very bored.

Well… there was one other problem.

The suit didn’t have a toilet. More expensive models might have elaborate, complicated ways to get rid of waste, but Vera had cheaped out on luxuries. Highly absorbent padding had worked since the early days of space travel, and it was still in use hundreds of years later, now that mankind was colonizing the stars. The life of a budget astronaut involved wearing a whole lot of diapers, and since this particular suit was designed to keep her alive for up to a week, her diaper was similarly reinforced, creating much of the bulk around the waist and crotch area. Each diaper even came treated with a medicated powder to prevent diaper rash - it wouldn’t keep her skin safe for a full week, but it was better than nothing.

Vera tried not to think about her diaper.

There wasn’t much else for her to think about.

She wasn’t dizzy - an anti-nausea patch was built into her suit, since vomiting in an EMO helmet could spell disaster. She tried humming a few songs to entertain herself, but she wasn’t much for carrying a tune.

There wasn’t really anything to distract from the fact that she had to pee.

Vera hated using her suit. The ship had a toilet, and she rarely needed to be out for more than a couple hours. Today, though, she wouldn’t have that luxury.

Grimacing, she resolved to hold it for as long as she could. She wouldn’t deny herself water or anything foolish like that, but being stuck in a wet, clammy diaper for several days sounded obnoxious.

She pinged her ship. It was a tiny speck in the distance by now, but she wouldn’t have trouble contacting it - There was no atmosphere to get in the way of the signal, after all. She could be miles away and still have a clear connection. The ping was good, and let her know that her distress signal had been received and acknowledged.

Her rescue would be arriving in seventy five hours. Since she’d already been in the suit for two, that meant a total of three days, five hours, and some change.

Fuck me.

Eventually, her aching bladder couldn’t take it anymore. She bit her lip in annoyance and let go, flooding her suit’s diaper, hearing the slight hiss echo inside her suit.

The diaper soaked it all up like a champ, wicking away the moisture, though she could still feel it squelching between her thighs as she squirmed in her suit. The warm fluid made her feel a bit sweaty and uncomfortable, even though her EMO kept her temperature level at all times.

She wanted to move, to do something, but there wasn’t anything. Sure, Vera wasn’t exactly trapped - she could move her arms and legs around as much as she wanted - but with nothing to push off of or interact with, it still felt like she was being restrained. The suit was roomy and as comfortable as one could hope, but it was still a hundred pounds of clothing.

Checking the clock again, Vera saw that twenty minutes had passed.

Ugh.

…

Seventy three hours remaining.

It took a while for Vera to realize that there was… one thing she could do. While she sipped on the pureed food supply, which tasted a bit like peaches, she had an idea. With her left arm, she reached over and adjusted the straps around her right shoulder, buying as much slack as she could.

The one-size-fits-all suit conformed well to her body under normal circumstances, but with everything loosened, there was just enough room to pull her right arm out of the sleeve. It was still covered by the suit, she wasn’t exposing her arm to the vacuum, but now she had it inside the body of the EMO.

Biting her lip and blushing slightly, she reached down, slipping her fingers beneath the tight elastic waistband that kept the diaper in place and prevented it from leaking.

Despite the fact that there was no other living soul for a few million miles, it still felt weirdly public and almost inappropriate to slide her fingers between her legs. Her face flushed as she touched herself, taking her time, gently teasing at first, working her way up until she was sliding her fingers inside herself.

By the time she was done, she was sweating and tired, and the suit’s fans were working to keep her from overheating. She checked the clock again, and found that she had killed forty minutes that way.

Sipping some water, she let herself cool off for a while, wishing she could stretch out inside the space suit.

I’m going to take a nap.

…

Seventy hours remaining.

Vera dozed for a while. It was strange, sleeping in zero G, but she knew how to do it. The trick was convincing her body that she wasn’t slowly falling - back when she’d been a rookie first getting the ropes, she kept having an ‘oshitImgonnadie-’ reaction right as she was about to nod off. Now, she was used to it.

Annoyingly, when she woke up, she had to pee again.

Sipping on her water supply, she didn’t try and hold it this time. No point, when her diaper was already wet.

Since Vera was feeling a bit hungry, she slurped on the food ‘sludge’. It really wasn’t half bad, texture aside, and the slightly sweet flavor was something to focus on besides her predicament.

As a game, she tried to spot her ship amongst the stars. She knew about where it should be from the pings, but it was just a little point of light off in the distance by now, and distinguishing it was only possible by how it was moving differently relative to the expanse of darkness beyond.

It really was a majestic view. Out in the cosmos, with no hint of light pollution and her eyes adjusted to it, she could see the shape of galaxies against the infinite backdrop of space. She drank it in.

A couple minutes later, she was bored again, so she decided to masturbate some more.

…

Fifty six hours remaining.

Vera’s schedule of ‘Nap, snack, fap’ kept her going for a while. It wasn’t really fun anymore, but it was either ‘Rub one out’ or ‘Be alone with her thoughts’, and at least it was something to do.

Her ship was fully out of sight by now. She was truly alone in space.

Also, annoyingly, the air in her suit was starting to smell of stale pee. In theory, the air filters should have caught everything before pumping fresh, breathable air into her helmet. Either there was a small leak letting air pass from the suit into the helmet, or the filters weren’t working as well as they should have.

Vera had at least checked the air redouts and confirmed that the filters were doing the important thing - getting rid of CO2 and keeping her oxygen levels stable. It was about all she could do. Any maintenance to the filters would require taking off the suit.

Just to see, she opened her comm, broadcasting it through her ship. "Mayday, mayday. Is anyone passing by? Could use an assist."

No response, which wasn't a surprise. She was in the middle of nowhere, after all. Still, it was worth a shot, because there was one thing she desperately wanted to avoid but would soon be unable to prevent.

Peeing in her diaper was one thing. She’d done it before, even if she’d never made one quite this soggy. Doing… the other thing… was a different story.

She had hoped to be able to hold it off, but whatever was in the protein sludge was apparently high in fiber, and her body’s urges were getting rather insistent. Vera didn’t want to try and pleasure herself in a messy diaper, which meant her recreation time would be coming to an end soon.

Sighing, she decided to go for one more round before giving up the fight.

…

Fifty five hours remaining.

“Ugh,” Vera said out loud, putting a hand to her belly. Her right hand the one that was freely moving inside the suit. “I really gotta go…”

She didn’t normally talk to herself out loud, but she wanted to hear something besides the sound of her breath.

“Come on, Vera,” she told herself. “Astronauts do it all the time. It’s just part of the job. Just pretend you’re sitting on a toilet and don’t think about it.”

It was easier said than done. Despite the cramps and the obvious pressure telling her it was time to go, her body refused to actually comply. She had to actually make a face and push, deliberately filling up her diaper with warm, solid mush.

It took a humiliatingly long time, and there was little for her to think about except what she was doing. Even once she was done, her plan to ignore it was riddled with holes. She could feel the solid mass in the diaper, and though it didn’t literally weigh her down - she was weightless, after all - it did seem to adjust the course of her spin slightly.

After a second, the quality of her air changed and she wrinkled her nose. “Oh, no, gross.” The smell of her dirty diaper was being fanned right up into her helmet, and if the stale pee smell was annoying, this was in-her-face awful.

She didn’t mind the stink too much - she hauled all sorts of cargo, worked with all sorts of machines, and was used to weird and unpleasant smells. It was more that it served as an unmistakable reminder of what she’d done in her diaper, and since she was trapped in her EMO, it was the only thing she could smell. There wouldn’t be a pleasant breeze or a waft of fresh air coming in to clear it out.

“Well…” she said, blushing despite there being nobody to see her. “Now what?”

...

Fifty three hours remaining.

Her willpower only lasted a couple hours. The smell and the feeling of muck between her legs hadn’t gone away, but Vera was bored out of her mind and couldn’t stand thinking about her dirty diaper any more. “I need a distraction. Any distraction.”

She told herself that as she slipped her hand into her diaper again, trying to only think about sexy things to get her motor running. She mostly managed it, though occasional thoughts about how bad her diaper smelled kept slipping in occasionally. Still, she powered through.

“Y’know,” she told herself. “This isn’t so bad. Just gotta… right… there…”

Her only choice of pastime was available to her once again, and she made judicious use of it, keeping herself hydrated all the while.

After about an hour, she was able to drift off to another sleepy, post-coital nap.

…

Forty four hours remaining.

“Oh yeah, Oh yeah, harder, just right-” she told herself, as though communicating to a partner. After a long, pleased moan, she relaxed again and checked the time.

“Okay, that’s a lot of time killed, but I’ve still got to make it two more days,” she groaned. “Man, I miss my bed… And real food…”

She had to use her diaper again. Now that it was already packed full of mush, it didn’t seem like that much of a problem to push, filling it up even more, making the mush squelch around.

If the smell got a bit more intense in her helmet, she barely noticed.

“Forty foooour hours,” she said. “Forty four. Foooourrrr. That’s a long time.”

She was feeling a bit loopy.

She decided to masturbate again.

…

Thirty something hours remaining.

Vera woke up from a nap, blinking blearily.

She was starting to lose her sense of time. Literally, she knew how much time was left - she could check the time on her suit. But with absolutely nothing changing except how full her diaper was, the word ‘hours’ was starting to lose all meaning.

Plus, her arm was getting tired. She had to work a bit to get her other arm free, but having both hands available so she could trade off her ‘recreation’ was nice.

“Sexy thoughts…” she said out loud, as she began the work to kill another thirty minutes. “Seeexy thoughts. Thinking about sexy things. I really need a diaper change… No, I… Rose petals and champagne… this helmet stinks… um…”

She came, eventually, but she wasn’t exactly sure why.

…

Tweeeenty?

Vera pushed, grunting softly as she added to the bulk in her diaper, annoyed at the interruption. As soon as she was done, she resumed stroking herself with delicate fingers, her mind numb.

…

???

“Fuck… mm, yeah…” she moaned. She’d woken up with her hand half in her diaper, and just shifted right into self pleasure. “Oh god, I stink… I’ve used my diapers so much, I’m such- a- stinky- aaah!”

She moaned, pulled her hand free, took a sip of water, and resumed her nap.

…

Zero hours remaining.

Aboard the S.S. Borus.

“We’re coming up on the craft now,” the helmsman said. “Looks like a maintenance accident. The airlock is open.”

Leaning over the seat, the captain pointed over his shoulder. “Check for the direction of the distress ping. She may have drifted miles by this point, but we should be able to track her suit’s telemetry.”

“Got it,” the helmsman said. He was only a year out of the academy, but he took orders well. “Three days… that’s a long time to wait for a rescue. I’ve never gotten anyone who was out more than one.”

“I know pilots who have been out for five, even six,” the captain replied, raising her communicator, calling up the ship’s doctor. “Hey, bright eyes, you’ll have a patient here soon. May need medical attention, will definitely be delirious.”

“I’ve got a comm signal,” the helmsman said. “Open frequency. Probably part of the distress signal, I'll put it up and ask if she's injured."

The captain's eyes widened. "Wait, don't-"

The helmsman thumbed his controls, bringing up the channel on the ship’s speakers. Across the navigation deck, Vera’s open mic played. “Fuck, fuck, yes, I’m such a stinky girl, just a stinky little slut, fuck, fuck- aa-”

The captain quickly reached across, turning off the signal.

“Erm…” the helmsman said, blushing. “What was that?”

Sighing, the Captain shook her head. “Don’t worry. A few more long-isolation rescues under your belt, you’ll get used to it.”