The Water-Blue Relief Diaper
Nephelia sat on the sofa, fidgeting with her fingers. The lips visible beneath her hood trembled ever so slightly.
The shopkeeper had already returned with a tea tray: two delicate porcelain cups and a small plate of still-warm butter cookies that smelled as if they had just left the oven.
“Here. Take a sip first. It’ll help you relax.”
When the shopkeeper held out a cup, Nephelia accepted it carefully with both hands. Warmth climbed through her fingertips, and a little of the tension in her chest seemed to ease.
“…Thank you.”
A small sip.
Herb and a faint sweetness of honey filled her mouth. It was truly delicious. Nephelia’s shoulders lowered a fraction.
The shopkeeper sat opposite her, chin propped on one hand, and regarded her steadily.
“So… what brings you here?”
Nephelia set the cup down and hesitated for a long time.
“…….”
The shopkeeper’s eyes brightened for an instant, then she smiled gently and nodded.
“Ah, yes. It must be hard to say. But you can tell me anything—anything at all.”
She rose and gestured toward the display shelves.
“Vibrators, restraints, whips, plugs, dildos… every single one of them was made with my own tastes in mind. I doubt there’s anyone who’ll understand your fetish better than I will. Mm, my latest masterpiece is—”
“N-no!”
Nephelia waved her hands frantically, face flaming scarlet.
“I-it’s not that sort of thing… I…”
The words simply would not come out properly.
The shopkeeper sat again and asked calmly,
“Take your time. Your secret is safe with me. I swear it on a mage’s name.”
She raised one hand and let a soft blue flame dance above her palm. The quiet display of power made Nephelia’s shoulders finally drop.
She gave the tiniest of nods and opened her mouth.
“…A diaper.”
The shopkeeper’s playful expression vanished. She spoke seriously, yet with warmth.
“Ah. So it’s not for sexual purposes? That makes sense now.”
Nephelia nodded hurriedly, face still burning red.
The shopkeeper stood, opened a drawer beneath the display, and drew out a thin silver package.
Inside lay a pure-white diaper edged with delicate lace—so slender that anyone who did not know better would have taken it for ordinary underwear.
Enchanted Adult Diaper — Masterwork
Auto-cleans waste · Blocks odor · Silences sound
Paper-thin; undetectable beneath outer clothes. Feels like ordinary underwear even to the touch.
“This is it. My personal masterpiece—the Water-Blue Relief Diaper.”
Nephelia bit her lip.
“…Eighty gold a month… right?”
“Yes. Expensive. But the performance is absolute.”
The shopkeeper tore open the outer wrapping and held the diaper out for inspection.
The exterior looked like soft, thin cloth; the inner lining was a special fabric that shimmered with a faint blue light. At the very center—where urethra and anus would rest—an intricate magic circle had been drawn.
“While you wear it, waste disposal, odor blocking, and soundproofing are all handled automatically. It’s so thin that nothing shows under outer clothes, and even if someone brushes against it by accident, it just feels like underwear.”
Nephelia touched the fabric with her fingertips.
It really was as thin as ordinary undergarments.
“…Does it truly… stay as clean as new? No smell, no sound?”
“Of course. I’m wearing one right now, in fact. Would you like to watch me use it?”
The shopkeeper’s confident offer made Nephelia’s eyes flicker, but her shoulders soon slumped.
“Ah… I… I don’t have eighty gold.”
“Eighty gold isn’t a light sum, no.”
The shopkeeper smiled as though she had expected exactly that.
“Still, I hate the thought of sending a Saintess away empty-handed.”
“H-how… did you…!!”
The shopkeeper pressed a single finger to the startled Saintess’s lips, then drew a small contract from the drawer.
“I’ll make you an offer. One-week trial for ten gold. Use it freely during that time, and if you like it, you can pay the remaining seventy later… Ah, you know what? I’m in a good mood. Forty gold a month. Five gold for the week’s trial. If it suits you, forty gold thereafter. How does that sound?”
Nephelia bit her lip again.
Five gold… she had that much on her right now.
And forty gold a month felt almost manageable.
Yet at the same time she was terrified.
Am I really going to walk around wearing a diaper?
But every long journey rose in her memory: the hours spent with legs crossed inside the carriage, the refusal of even a single sip of water, the desperate sprints to the privy night after night.
When the inner struggle finally ended, she nodded.
“…All right. I’ll try it.”
The shopkeeper beamed and handed over the diaper.
“Wonderful. Activation begins at midnight. After that the magic will engage on its own, so until then just wear it like ordinary underwear. And—”
She raised one finger.
“Once it activates, the first sensations will feel a little strange. Things moving, a breeze blowing… that sort of feeling.”
Without another word Nephelia clutched the diaper to her chest, paid the five gold, pulled her hood lower, and left the shop.
Eleven twenty-five at night.
Second-floor room of the church dormitory.
Nephelia locked the door, snuffed the candle, and sat on the edge of the bed.
The diaper rested in her hands.
She drew a deep breath and slowly undressed.
Then, with trembling fingers, she put the diaper on with the utmost care.
Snap—
The soft fabric settled between her thighs, and a faint tremor of mana brushed her skin.
…Will it really… work?
Heart fluttering, she slipped under the covers, closed her eyes, and fell asleep.
The next morning.
Sunlight filtered through the curtains.
Nephelia woke to the urge to urinate.
She started to leap up and run for the toilet—then froze at the strange sensation between her legs.
Only then did she realize that what she wore was not ordinary underwear… but something thick yet soft that cradled her entire backside.
…Ah.
Last night’s memory returned.
The diaper.
Holding her breath, she rose carefully and stood before the mirror.
Nothing showed beneath the gray tunic.
She almost released right there, then thought better of it and stepped into the bathroom, standing in front of the toilet.
She did not sit.
She simply stood and carefully pushed.
Ssssshhhh—
Warm liquid poured out, yet nothing leaked.
Inside the diaper, however, she felt a gentle sloshing.
…I’ve been tricked.
Disappointment washed over her.
Then—
Bubble… bubble…
The liquid began to form tiny air pockets and slowly vanish. A soft breeze seemed to brush her skin.
Within seconds everything was dry again, as though nothing had ever happened.
Disbelieving, Nephelia lowered the diaper and touched the inside with her fingers.
There was truly nothing. Only the faintly glowing magic circle.
…It’s real.
A tiny smile touched her lips. The heavy weight that had sat in one corner of her heart seemed to lift. She left the room with a light step.
Breakfast.
She sat across from the branch priest, eating bread and stew.
The priest asked gently,
“How are you feeling this morning? You look far more cheerful than yesterday.”
“Yes, just as you say. When I arrived last night I was a little cautious because of… personal concerns, but by the grace of the Goddess this morning feels truly light and refreshing.”
Nephelia smiled and lifted a spoonful of stew.
“Ah—I understand you have lived in Silverring for a long time, Father. Is there anywhere in the city you would recommend I visit?”
The priest thought for a moment, then answered kindly.
“I… am fondest of the Silver Spring at the edge of the market. At night, silver dust from the mines floats on the water and sparkles as though stars have fallen into the pool. Pilgrims say that prayers offered there reach the Goddess more readily.”
“Even hearing of it makes me look forward to it.”
Nephelia smiled and moved her fork again.
The priest added softly,
“If the Saintess wishes, I can guide you myself after the meal. They say a baptism in that spring washes fatigue completely away, and a personal visit from the Saintess would surely lift the city’s spirits.”
“Then may I ask that of you?”
“Ah, that would be wonderful. In truth…”
At that exact moment—
Grrrrk.
A fierce cramp seized her abdomen.
At the same time, an overwhelming urge to defecate.
…!
Ordinarily she would have stopped eating and fled to the toilet.
But Nephelia could not set down her fork.
The priest’s conversation was growing steadily more serious.
“…Some of the younger faithful in Silverring have lately been swayed by heretical whispers. If the Saintess herself were to speak to them… it would do much to set their hearts right again.”
She needed to say something, yet her mouth stayed shut.
Instead her gaze locked on the bowl of stew.
The rumbling inside her grew louder.
Grrrk… grrrk…
Far stronger and more persistent than before.
…I need the toilet…
Yet she could find no opening in the priest’s earnest talk.
Her duty and dignity as Saintess nailed her legs to the chair.
Suddenly the morning’s experiment returned to her: if it truly vanished without a trace, could she not simply… go right here?
No—even wearing a diaper, doing it here is…
The moment she decided that, another cramp rolled through her and sweat beaded on her forehead.
Nephelia tightened her grip on the fork until thin veins stood out on the back of her hand.
Just a little… just a little longer…
Pressure rose from deep in her bowels, growing clearer by the second—as though someone were squeezing her intestines in a fist. The rumbling was now almost continuous, and louder.
The priest continued with the same serious expression.
“Especially among the younger knights… talk has begun that ‘the Goddess’s grace has already ended.’ If, while you are here, you could also visit the knight order and offer them instruction…”
Nephelia pretended to nod slightly and opened her mouth, then closed it again. The words that had risen to her throat simply would not come out. Instead the sounds from her belly grew louder still. This time even the priest tilted his head a fraction.
“…Saintess?”
“Ah, yes… please continue…”
Her voice trembled. She crossed and uncrossed her legs, twisting slightly on the chair. Yet the pressure only seemed to intensify. She was truly at her limit.
“Is something the matter? Are you unwell?”
I slowly stirred my stew and watched the Saintess seated opposite me.
Nephelia.
The brightest star of the Church.
Pure, noble, seemingly untouchable.
Right now her face was deathly pale.
Sweat beaded on her forehead.
The fingers gripping her fork trembled minutely; beneath the table her thighs clenched and released again and again.
And… under the table, her hips gave the tiniest of lifts.
…Yes. It’s beginning.
I smiled inwardly.
Even a Saintess is only human.
What I had mixed into the tea she drank this morning and into the stew was no ordinary laxative.
It was a powerful diarrhetic called “Demon’s Whisper,” obtained from Silverring’s underground market.
Originally prescribed when a parasitic slime invades the anus, its ferocious effect has found many other uses in the back alleys.
Exactly like now.
Grrrk… grrrk…
At first very soft,
then louder, more relentless.
I deliberately continued speaking even more slowly.
I chose the most serious topics and kept the pace just ambiguous enough that she could not easily interrupt.
“Especially among the younger knights… talk has begun that ‘the Goddess’s grace has already ended.’ If, while you are here, you could also visit the knight order and offer them instruction, it would do much to set their hearts right again.”
She made a tiny nodding motion.
But her eyes had already lost focus.
Her lips were dry and trembling.
I spoke as though I noticed nothing.
“…Saintess?”
“Ah, yes… please continue…”
I had expected exactly that answer. The Saintess was a woman of powerful responsibility; she would never interrupt such important matters for something as base as the need to relieve herself.
Of course, even if she did try to go to the toilet, I had already sent workmen under the pretext of “repairs” to seal every indoor privy for the duration of the meal.
If the indoor toilets would not open, she would have to go outside—and by then it would already be too late.
If she soiled herself on the main street, that would be the perfect ending.
A Saintess who shits herself in front of everyone is no longer a Saintess.
“Is something the matter? Are you unwell?”
Today the Saintess’s reputation ends.
Nephelia desperately pressed her thighs together.
The muscles of her inner thighs spasmed.
Her anus had already opened and closed several times; a hot mass kept brushing the threshold and retreating.
“Saintess… are you truly all right?”
The branch priest’s voice came again.
She could delay no longer.
She had to answer. She had to say something.
She opened her mouth—
Psshk—
A tiny yet unmistakable sound escaped beneath the table.
…!
Her entire body froze.
Inside the diaper a warm, heavy mass began to spread slowly.
Still only a small amount.
But that “beginning” felt as though it would destroy everything.
Nephelia instinctively pressed her hips harder into the chair and gripped the edge of the table with both hands.
Her nails dug into the wood.
“…I-I’m fine… please… continue…”
Her voice cracked.
Her breathing grew ragged.
Sweat dripped from her forehead onto the rim of the stew bowl.
The branch priest tilted his head and studied her carefully.
“Truly… your face is quite pale. Are you in pain—”
At that moment.
Grrrrrk… grrrrrrk…!
This time a deep, massive sound that seemed to vibrate through her entire belly.
She could hold it no longer.
Nephelia’s eyes wavered.
Her pupils dilated; focus dissolved.
And—
Puuuuup—
At the same instant a stifled moan escaped the lips she had been trying to keep sealed,
Bwoooong—bzzzt-zzzt—!!
Inside the diaper a fart and filthy waste exploded together.
Yet the diaper’s magic perfectly sealed every sound and every odor.
Ah…
Trembling, yet realizing that the diaper had truly saved her, Nephelia squeezed her eyes shut and pushed with her abdomen.
Psshk… puuuuup… grrrrr…
The diaper did not leak, just as promised.
Neither smell nor sound escaped outward.
Only the sensation of something gulping and swallowing everything reached her through her hips.
At last she lowered her head, face still burning scarlet yet feeling somewhat relieved.
Her hair hid her face.
The Saintess.
Symbol of the Church.
The woman called the incarnation of purity
had, at the breakfast table,
in front of a priest,
been unable to hold it… and had soiled herself while moaning.
Outwardly nothing had happened,
no one had noticed,
and the diaper had blocked everything perfectly—
yet she herself knew.
And that knowledge tore her chest open.
Nephelia rose unsteadily from her seat.
“…I-I’m sorry… I don’t feel well… I think I should leave first.”
The branch priest half-rose, leaning forward.
“Your face… is far too pale. Shall I call a physician?”
Still looking down, Nephelia answered in a trembling voice.
“I’m fine… a short rest will be enough. Please excuse me.”
She pushed the chair back with shaky legs and stood.
The priest watched her retreating figure.
Her legs were trembling. Yet beneath the table, around the chair, on the floor—there was not a single trace.
…Just now I was certain…
He flared his nostrils slightly. No odor at all. Only the usual scent of bread, stew, and herbs floated in the air.
A misperception, then.
He slowly sat again and murmured to himself.
No… it couldn’t have been a misperception… the sounds from her belly… that expression, that trembling…
In the end the priest decided it must have been his imagination after all, took a spoonful of stew, and continued his thoughts.
Forgive me, Saintess. By now you will be heading for the toilet, but it is a meaningless struggle.