“Show me you’re an adult then,” she said. Typical Amazon, always trying to test me. “Show me you can use a toilet.”
I sighed, shook my head slightly. “I don’t need to go,” I told her.
“You want to spend your life in diapers?” she asked, “You can still show me the process.”
A quick shrug, this wasn’t an argument I could win, and I went to the potty. I wouldn’t fit on an Amazon toilet anyway and the potty was the right height. Lifting my skirt clear I sat on it, hummed to myself for a minute before a loud sound filled the room, echoing from within the bowl.
“I thought you didn’t need to go,” she said smirking.
“I didn’t,” I told her, “it was just wind.”
To prove this I stood up, showed her that the bowl was empty. However I knew the drill, reached for some toilet paper. A quick wipe between my legs and I showed her how clean it was before discarding it in the potty. She could handle that.
Even though nothing had happened I didn’t skip washing my hands. Water, soap, water, repeat, final rinse and a towel to dry them.
“There, happy now?”
She smiled, a cruel evil smile. “You didn’t flush.”
“It’s a potty! It’s not plumbed in,” I said, “There’s no cistern.”
That evil smile became a grin which made it no friendlier. “Excuses excuses,” she said, delight apparent in her voice. She lunged at me.
I ran. Of course I ran. Everybody runs.
“You’re not getting away from me this time,” she said as she chased. Her legs were as long as my height, her stride far vaster than I could manage, she closed the distance with ease.
That extra height came with extra weight though. High speed, high weight.. high momentum. I twisted, turned and kept running, this time in another direction. She couldn’t turn that fast, lost ground again, had to look and see where I’d gone.
Not far. I wasn’t even sprinting, couldn’t outrun her if I tried. Trickery and patience were my only options if I wanted to avoid her.
“You little ragamuffin!” she exclaimed, turning to come after me again.
Enjoying the simple victory I giggled, knowing I’d been able to annoy her. I kept running though and as she closed I ducked out of her grasp, stopped and turned. Accelerating into a full sprint I went straight between her legs and headed for the door. Getting out of that would annoy her even more.
She swivelled at her hips, her long arms reaching out. She didn’t grab me but did catch my skirt, its hem flairing out as I ran. My pace tugged it free but it was too late, that little tug enough to trip me. As I sprawled on the floor, thick carpet cushioning my fall, she giggled herself.
“Just wind?” she asked, “Really?”
I looked behind me, realised the elastic effect of my skirt springing free from her grip had left the loose folds on my back, gathered at my waist, revealing what was below. The diaper was discoloured, earlier wetting now joined by the smelly lumps I’d added while sat on the potty.
Before I could think of an explanation she scooped me up, put me on her hip, squishing the messy diaper against me.
“Eww”, I grumbled.
That got me a pat on the bottom, more squishing, a gentle smile. “It’s your own fault,” she told me, “You’re meant to take your diaper off to use the potty.”
As I blushed I gave her an angelic smile. “But I know how much you like changing me,” I said, “How could I deny you that?”
She gave me an indulgent smile as she carried me through to the changing table. “I do,” she admitted, “Nearly as much as you like needing it.”
Another blush and this time I stayed quiet. Even an Amazon can be right.