Road Trip

It's been six months since the accident. Six months since your car had careened off the side of the road, sending both you and your poor hyena girlfriend through a long and expensive hospital process.
In actuality, neither of you sustained any notable damages, aside from a couple broken bones and a fair bit of trauma.
You feel like your girlfriend got the short end of the stick, though; As the vehicle slammed into the fence at the side of the road, a bit of metal from her side of the car had jammed itself in her lower abdomen. The doctors said it would not have any lasting effects on her overall physique, and that the injuries would heal fully within a couple years.
Her only issues would be momentary abdominal pains, as well as continence issues in both areas.
Now, you knew the former one would be next to no issue; The canine was as tough as they come, and had taken the surgery and broken bones with something that looked disconcertingly like joy to you
The latter, however...
You remember her first accident. It happened in the hospital, while she was still in bed. You had just come over to check on how she was doing when her happy face grew strained with effort and confusion, before a dark spot appeared right on the center of her sheets. Shortly after that, she had started crying helplessly as pee started dripping from her bed, and a team of nurses had rushed to help her.
The two of you never brought that up again.
Not even when it happened a second time, shortly after the two of you had returned home. You had just stepped out of the car when she had doubled over with a groan. You ended up locking eyes with her as she had muttered «nnooo, what's...nnggh-» and promptly soiled herself right there in the driveway.
Or the third time, just as she got out of bed on a sunday morning. She'd yawned, stretched, gasped in surprise, and shamefully bolted for the bathroom, even though you could see the brown bulge already growing in the seat of her panties under her raised tail.
It wasn't until after the fourt time, when the two of you were out shopping, and she had ended up standing cross-legged, completely helpless in the middle of a mall, with urine splashing down her inner thighs, that you had humbly suggested a solution.
«You know, there's no shame in using remedies for this kinda condition»
«I don't have a... «Condition»» She had sniffled in return.
«Well... not «condition», but... er. This problem» You'd backpedaled.
«I am NOT wearing fucking diapers!» She'd snapped shamefully.
«Not diapers. They have these thin... kinda like thick pads. To train, you know?»
After a bit of back-and-forth, she had agreed to the idea of pull-ups, albeit begrudgingly.
And now, half a year later, you're giving yourself a mental pat on the back, because it worked.
She'd hated it at first, complaining that you were making a baby out of her, that she didn't need these.
But after a couple weeks of training, she had started getting her control back, and the training pants, while not strong enough to fully contain a real accident, had saved her dignity many times when she couldn't quite make it to the loo.
And just last week, she could celebrate a full accident-free month.
And though she didn't say anything, you could sense a stoic pride practically radiating from her that day.
Even with your budget stretched a little thin after the hospital bill, you'd set up a plan to reward her for the hard effort; She had worked so damn hard on regaining her control, you felt like she deserved something special.
She'd always talked about wanting to see the countryside with you. To just relax as the scenery flew by on a long ride through the empty desert one day, without worrying about the stress of daily life.

So that's why you're both riding through the desert in your fixed-up car, her lazing in the passanger seat with her head out the window and the wind in her hair, and you in the driver's seat with a fresh pair of shades and a heart free of cares.
You've been going like this for a couple days, zooming through the central fly-over parts of the country, with nothing but each other for company. You get the feeling she's been taking this not only as a reward, but also a challenge; The motels are few and far between in these parts of the country, and thus the opportunity for bathroom breaks as well.
There have been a few times when you've noticed her growing a little restless in the longer stretches, but she's always made it in time.
But today, you've encountered a problem.
Traffic.
You couldn't believe it when you saw the mess of red brake-lights materialize in front of you, punctuated by a silent «oh no...» from your side. But yet there it is, a full-blown, stand-still traffic jam.
Ten minutes creep by, and you you've moved roughly a hundred feet when you notice her shifting a little in the passenger seat.
«How you holding up?» You ask in an everyday tone, eyes on the road.
«F-fine...» She replies.
You sneak a quick look at her. She's leaning a little forward, with her hands in her lap.
Another five minutes, and another hundred feet.
«Okay, I'm...» She stutters. «I-I'm not really all that fine.» She's fidgeting with her tail-tip now, audibly and visibly uncomfortable.
«Is it...?» You leave the question in the air, since the answer is obvious. The two of you have developed a bit of a short-hand for talking about this, especially in public.
«Mhm. One and two.» She replies, ears and whiskers drooping.
You raise your head to the road. Up ahead you see someone bolt out of their car and behind a bush on the side of the road, fumbling with his fly on the way.
You point. «Look, you could always...»
«Not a chance.» She cuts you off, her voice strained and a little shaky. «I just KNOW everyone else is pointing at that guy and laughing. Imagine if they saw me running out there only to sh-shit myself in a goddamn d... diaper.»
You sit in silence, ruminating. She has a point.
After about another ten minutes of compact silence and increasingly frantic squirming, you notice the traffic jam starting to loosen up. And sure enough, after a short while you're stepping on the gas, watching the landscape zoom by once again.
But this time however, neither of you take any pleasure from the sights; the hyena girl is clutching desperately at her groin, eyes shut in intense concentration.
«How. How far left?» She growls through clenched teeth.
You sit in silence. You just passed a big sign.
It informed you that the next rest stop will be in twenty miles
«Please.» She trembles «I'm. About. To go. In my pants. Please tell me...»
«Twenty miles.» You say flatly.
«TWE- nrgh!» She bursts out, and you could've sworn you heard a subdued fart and a short little hiss.
«You could just... you know.» You hate seeing her struggle like this.
«Just do what?» She grinds through her teeth. «Soil myself like a child? I've had enngh-» She growls again, clutching her stomach. After a few seconds she recovers, her voice filled to the brim with desperation; « I've had enough of people looking at me like I'm a helpless little baby. That time in the hospital, when I pissed all over the bed and floor, I actually wanted to die. If it weren't fffuuhhckk...» She splays her foot-claws and scrapes against the floor, grimacing and clenching her hands into fists.
«If it weren't for your support and kindness, I don't know what I'd do... I can't just start using these training pants like I have no cotrol! Gotta hold it in... Gotta....»
She relapses into silence again.
You pass another five minutes in silence, only broken by huffs, floor-scraping and nervous laughs from the hyena; You know those giggles as a particularly clear sign that she was about to lose the battle; You'd heard them signalizing many a shameful accident during her training period.
After a while, you pass another sign, signifying that you only have ten miles left.
You don't even ask. For a short while, you almost start having hope that she'll make it.
It's not until you pass the five-mile mark that things start going south.
«N...no...» she mumbles and bends double, ears brushing against the dashboard as she starts her very final stand.
Suddenly she arcs back, clutching at her pull-up. «Look, please, please tell me we're almost there. I'm actually gonna go. I'm actually...»
You think you can see another sign in the distance.
«We're so close» You assure her. «Just five more minutes and...»
«I'm gonna lose it. I'm gonna lose it... I'm gonna... gonna... go... aah-»
She sighs, and this time you can hear the defeat in her voice. It is quickly accompanied by an aggressive hiss of pee, lasting for the good part of half minute.
Keeping your eyes on the road, you try to ignore the short gasp and grunt as well, followed by an embarrasingly loud crescendo of squelching and crackling.
The smell that comes after isn't even the worst thing. You can hear her silently trying to choke back a sob following the sounds of her shameful voiding.
But even then, you keep your eyes on the road. After all, distractions like these are the reason she's in this situation in the first place.
So instead, you trace your right hand down past your own seat and up into hers. You find her hand resting there, having scratched up the fabric quite badly during the time of her hold.
You take it in yours, and squeeze it softly, before taking to stroking it.
«Hey...» You say. «It's gonna be okay.»
«No it's not...» She sniffles «I just... I just did it in my pants! I have no control at all! I just went both ways in the middle of a car ride like a little-»
«Hey,» you cut her off, making your voice as kind and soft as you can. For her. «You held on for longer than I've ever seen you do since this whole thing started. You basically set a personal record. And look.» You point. «There's the rest stop. Shall we...?» You leave the question hanging.
She hesitates, looking. The rest stop is filled with people standing in front of the tiny outhouses.
«Psh. No way in hell.» She responds, her voice a bit less defeated now. «I'd rather...» She looks down at herself and shudders. «I know I'll never see any of them ever again, but I don't think I could handle the shame of... You know...»
She looks to you, and you can sense the shame flowing out of her.
«I...I'm sorry to put you through this. I tried as hard as-»
You squeeze her hand once again and she stops.
«Don't you worry about me. We'll stop somewhere at the side of the road, and we can fix you up. Just like we've done before. Next motel stop is entirely on me.» You take a whiff of your own armpit. «Woof. And you think YOU smell bad. Dibs on the tub.»
You hear her giggle.
«Thank you.»
The two of you spend the next few miles in awkwards silence. The hyena's hands are clenched into fists, and you get the feeling she's quite miserable.
«You okay?» You ask.
She sighs. «No... I'm not «Okay»...This is disgusting...» The smell of her accident has filled the car for quite a while now. «I'm so, so sorry. I should've listened to you and done my business while we were stuck in the jam. Or held on a little longer. Just a few minutes... Goddammit.» Her ears hang limp, and she sniffles again.
You stroke your fingers across her clenched hand, and feel it loosen a little. «Pff.» you shush. «You feel sorry for -me-? You're the one having to actually deal with this. I got a quite used to the smell shortly after the crash. Remember how bad it was back then? You could barely hold it for five seconds before bursting. And look at you now. What was that, an hour? One and a half? Even the doctors didn't predict for you to recover this quickly. You're a beast!»
She holds back a chuckle before going somber again. «Yeah. A beast. A very stinky and wet one. Eurgh. How are you not disgusted with me? I... I think it leaked a little onto the seat.»
You shrug. She has a point, the stench is starting to get to you a little. But you're determined not to let it show.
«Like I said, I got used to it. I helped you change a couple times, remember?»
«I don't want to remember.» She mutters and looks back down. «But I guess life likes to remind me. Fucking hell this feels yucky. Urgh!»
You nod. Another sign passes over your head. Another motel. Another twenty miles left.
Outside, it's starting to get dark.
«Hey...» You start. «So when we get to the motel, what's our plan? The smell will be a little hard to hide.»
She starts, and hides her face in her hands. «Aaah, shit. I didn't think about that. Oh God this sucks. I can't... I don't know if I can handle anyone seeing me like this.»
She stares out the window, miserably.
Suddenly, you get an idea.
«Hm. You know... It's kinda hard to see in this low light...» You muse.
Her ears perk up a little. «What? What are you getting at?»
You shrug again, rubbing her hand. «Well... Just saying... No one would probably see us or care if we pulled over and stopped the car for a quick wipe and change.»
She ruminates on this for a few seconds.
«Do it. Before I change my mind.» She states suddenly «But be careful. Last time you did this I ended up with a gut full of metal.»
You feel a sting of guilt as you think back to half a year ago. That had been all on you, yet she had never lorded it over you, despite all the trouble, embarrasment and stress it had indirectly brought on her.
Very carefully, you ease off the gas and lead the car to a near-stop, before slowly bringing it to the side of the road.
After stopping on the hard dirt, you both sit in the car for a while for a while, letting the silence wash over you.
«Hm. This is... kinda nice.» The hyena comments. «Or at least it would be, if it weren't for the... Ugh. The smell. Let's get out.»
She throws open teh door and tumbles out. You cast a look at the seat before following suit, and yep. Sure enough, there are a couple small dark stains where her cheeks had been just a few moments before, where the leg-holes of the training pants had overflown.
Stepping out, you see her uncomfortably hobbling over to a big flat rock, clutching her tail between her legs. Her ears are drooping once again.
You grab a bag from the trunk and follow her as she lays down on her back, carefully not to sit directly on her butt.
«Okay. Just get this over with. Help... Get me out of these pants.»
You bend down to help her with the trousers, and notice the wet spot between her thighs.
«Yeah, I pissed myself.» She sniffles angrily, her self-confidence cracking again. «Don't just look at it. Take them off! They're all cold and sticky!»
Instead of replying, you simply undo her zipper and peel the garment off; This doesn't exactly strike you as a good time for snide remarks.
She cringes and whimpers as her greatest shame is revealed; The once-white medical pull-ups are not only stained and soaked, but nearly destroyed. The entire length from her waist to the base of the tail is colored in a bright yellow, and her underside is heavily stained brown, bulging outwards in some places, and sloshing with her mess everywhere else. You think some of it seeped past the legholes as well.
«H-how bad's the damage?» She asks meekly.
«well...» You start, mouth dry as you put on a pair of rubber gloves. «Let's just say it's a good thing your fur is naturally beige. I have some spare pants in the trunk. And we're gonna have to stock up on wet wipes next time we pass a convenience store.»
«Goddammit. Well, let's do this fast.» She rears her butt up and puts her legs together in the air.
You comply, grabbing a hold of the pull-up. As you slip it off her the stench hits you fully, and no matter how hard you try, you gag a little.
To your dismay, you can see tears forming in her eyes again, before she covers them. «Oh God, this is so embarrassing. I should've...»
«Don't...» You swallow. «Don't sweat it. I've done this a couple times before, remember?»
She nods and whines silently.
Focusing on your task, you return your gaze to her groin.
What an absolute disaster.
You open the emergency bag you brought from the car, and take out a box of wet wipes. You don't even know where to begin with cleaning her this time; You'd almost always made it to some suitable place to change back in the past, so it had usually been relatively straight-forwards to clean. But this times she had been left to stew in it for the good part of an hour, and her fluff is completely caked with the stuff.
With grit teeth, you start your task by wiping gently at her crotch, shaving off layers of the warm mud.
«So...» you breathe through your mouth, «So how is your health? After the crash, I mean. We haven't talked about this in a while.» Best to have some conversation to distract yourself from the dreary job, you think.
You can almost feel her cocking an eyebrow. «Do you really need to ask? Look at me...»
«I'm not talking about the... The continence thing.» You huff back. «I mean in general. The doctors talked quite a bit about pain. How's your arm?»
She snorts, and you almost think you can sense some subdued pride in her voice. «Oh, please. You were the one always crying about your concussion and broken ankle. You know physical pain doesn't bother me all that much. And my arm's fine, look.» She holds it up in front of you, and you look away from the cleanup to see her twirling her fingers and eventually forming a thumbs up.
It's true, she always was the tougher one when it came to physical injuries. But the mental ones, on the other hand...
You put away the used wet wipes in a bag. Her underside looks a bit less horrible now. Time for some lighter means. You pull out a disinfectant spray bottle.
«You... really came fully prepared, didn't you?» She comments, and you can hear a smidgen of disappointment in her voice, as if she didn't expect you to even consider her having an accident.
«I always do. And I'm almost always in the wrong for doing so, thanks to your fortitude... Could you spread your legs a little?»
«Wow, going straight for the honey-pot are we? How very smooth.» She giggles.
«Hey, none of that until you're clean, okay? I just gotta scrub your inner thighs a bit better.» You reply strictly.
«Okay. Sorry. It's just...» She sighs and rests her head on the ground, looking at the darkening sky.
«...This really actually isn't that bad right now. Just lying back and letting you help me out, I mean. If the circumstances were different, I'd almost say it's a little pleasant.»
You scoff internally. Still struggling to remove the messy stains from her crotch-fluff, the word «pleasant» isn't the first one that comes to mind.
You scrub at the area between her groin and butt, feeling her flinch a little. «Yeah... No. No offense, but I'd rather not make this into a habit.» You step back and take in your work.
Her underside is by no means sparkling, but you can't make out any signs of her accident anymore. You've cleaned and scrubbed every inch from her tail-base to the front of her pelvis, as well as her inner thighs, but you don't think you'll ever remove the stains from her fur without dipping it in hot water and letting it soak.
It would have to do until you could find a bathtub.
«How do I look?» She mutters, closing her legs and lowering her tail.
«Dashing.» You reply. «But we should get a move on. Wet wipes and spray don't really compare to a bath. You need help getting into a fresh pair?»
She gets up to her knees and takes a peek into the bag. «No. I'm not actually a baby, I know how to put on basic panties. These are basically just that, with a bit of extra...» She trails off and rifles through the supplies you brought. «...Baby powder? Really?»
You shrug. «Helps against rashes and such, apparently. You wanna try?»
She casts a few looks between you and the baby powder bottle, before putting it back. «Er... No. Can we just go fast to the motel instead? I'm getting cold.»
You agree that that's probably a good idea, and after a short hand-wash you pack up and hit the road again.

It's night when you see the lights of the motel appear in the distance. The hyena seems a bit drowsy, and you feel like you could use some shut-eye yourself when you park the car in the driveway.
You split up, letting her bring the luggage to your room as you check in at the reception.
«Out traveling?» The tired old desk-lady muses as you pay. «Just the two of you? Must be pretty romantic.»
«Oh you have no idea.» You respond half-heartedly as you hand her the bills.
After a few minutes of un-packing and unwinding, the hyena heads into the bathroom, and shortly after you can her the sound of water splashing into the bathtub.
«You want some help with cleaning?» You shout from the double bed.
«N-no...» You hear faintly. «...Dear God, what a mess... Ew...»
Lying back on the bed, you feel your eyes grow heavy. This has been a long day for the both of you, and you're honestly rather glad it's coming to an end. The problems with smell and clean-up weren't nearly as bad as seeing your girl so riled up and at the brink of tears.
But it's okay now though. You let yourself rest, and before you know it you fall asleep, whisked away by the splashing sounds from the bathroom.

You don't know how long you've been gone, but the string of sunlight touching your face through the curtains tells you it was probably more than eight hours.
The next thing you notice is that your girlfriend is lying right next to you, hands clasped around your shoulder in her sleep.
You can hear her sluggishly mumbling incoherent jumble into your ear. Moreover, she's completely naked save for the pull-up. This is far from the first time you've woken up like this together, so it doesn't surprise you all that much.
You take a look around the room, and see that she didn't quite go to bed hungry; There are wrappers for at least three sandwiches and empty water bottles strewn around in front of the bed.
You look down at her again, and notice her expression fluctuate between happy, concentrated and over to happy again in the span of a few seconds.
«Nhghh... don... need. Few milesss...» She mumbles, breathing a little heavily. «Nooot in my... Just a few mrr minutzzzrkh....»
It's not until she clutches her stomach under the covers and groans that you put two and two together, and realize you should probably wake her up. But on the other hand, she looks so peaceful...
«Ghmmrss... D-don... look...» She moans again, followed by one of her telltale nervous hyena giggles. You think you can hear a short, wet fart from under the covers.
You reach towars her shoulder and give her a gentle shake.
«Hey... you alright?» You say apathetically as she clenches her teeth and curls her legs up, still asleep.
«Mnyeehh. Wuh... Doesn't hurt at all... I'm tuffer n' look. Dummm... fucknnnn car crshhh... Fucnnn wennnt in my pntssnnrrkkh» She twists and turns, clutching at her pelvis.
You give her another shake, more firmly this time. You don't wanna think about how she might react to waking up with a full pull-up. She'd be inconsolable.
«Hey. Wake up! I think you're about to... Uh.» You stammer. How do you word this nicely?
But you don't have to find a gentle way to tell her that she's about to shit herself in her sleep, because just then her eyes shoot open, locking gazes with you.
«Oh no.» She exclaims silently, before rolling out of bed and darting towards the bathroom, clutching both the front and back of her training pants.
But she doesn't get more than halfway through the room before freezing mid-step. You can see her clenched fists shaking with pure grit at her side. But despite her deperate efforts, you can see her curled tail starting to rise, followed by another short, gurgling fart.
«Nhg... Not. Again. Come on!» And with a strained grunt, she takes another step towards the bathroom, manually holding her own tail down between her legs.
«Can you... Either look away, or help me here?I can't hold....» Her voice is a ptch higher than before, panicking.
You bounce up from the bed and hurry over. You wish you could somehow assist her.
«Open... the door.» She whines through clenched jaws.
You hurry over and hold the glass door open for her, and she hobbles through, knees locked together as she tiptoes in.
You sneak in behind her and put your hand in hers.
She almost crushes it.
«Just a few more steps!» You encourage her. «You're basically there. One foot in front of the other now.»
She turns to you and braves a strained smile. «I'll do it... Just... Gotta...»
And it's when she takes the next step that it happens.
As she hobbles into arm's reach of the toilet bowl, she lets out a short gasp, and you feel her claws digging into your hand as a horrible squelching noise comes from her rear. This time there was no noise, no flatulence or crackling signifying her defeat, only the short «splrpt» of nearly liquid waste leaving her body and entering her pull-ups.
You sneak a quick look under her tail, and see the brown stain already spreading across her bum, bulging slightly.
«There's no... damn point, is there?» She mutters, and now you can hear a trickling from her front as well, before it intensifies into the aggressive hiss of a full-blown accident.
«Just... three blasted feet from the toilet.. And I... again...» She huffs, and you decide to pull her into a hug.
«Shhh, hey. It's okay.» You whisper to her, stroking her hair as she weakly hugs you back, her body trembling from the sudden release.
You sniff the air. «That smells like a stomach bug to me. No wonder you have issues with this. We should get you checked out.»
She cries onto your shoulder, and you're pretty sure you hear another silent squelch from below.
She groans in defeat. «St... Stop making excuses. I've failed twice in a row now, like some sort of little kid. It feels like I've made no goddamn progress at all!» Her ear lowers, and you feel it brushing against yours.
«Hey, now you're just being silly» You muse, patting her on the back. «You went a full month without a single mistake up until now. It's just this stupid road trip's fault. I really don't know what I was thinking when planning this.»
You pause for a minute, feeling her breath slow and her hands loosen.
«Tell you what. We'll get this... mess sorted out, then we can turn around and drive home. This whole thing was a pretty dumb idea on my part, and I should've seen this coming. We can spend the rest of our vacation just relaxing at home, without worrying about all this dumb stress and stigma. With the budget we set aside for this trip, we'll actually end up saving more than just pride by cutting it short. How's that sound?» You wait a few seconds. You get the feeling she's thinking very hard about this.
«You know...» She eventually responds. «...No. We shouldn't turn around.»
This takes you by surprise.
«What? Are you... Why?»
She lets go of you to wipe a couple tears away. Taking a step back, you can see how the mess has started running down her legs between her thighs. And even though she crosses her legs and tries to cover it up, you can see the pull-ups didn't stand a chance.
«I just... I feel like this is a bit of a learning experience. As crazy as that sounds.»
You look at her with an eyebrow raised. «M hm. But didn't you say you hated this?»
She looks around shamefully. «Oh I do. I hate it so much. This...» She gestures towards her ruined training pants and jumps a little, not having realized exactly how full it is. «...This is the absolute worst. It feels like I'm back in the hospital again, with almost no contol over my body. But now, I... I feel like I can at least fight it a little bit. And...» She sighs, groping for words. Another drop of urine rolls down her leg. «It feels like a challenge I gotta overcome. Sure, I'm failing right now, but I know I'll be at least a little closer next time. And as you said, I basically set a new record yesterday. Maybe these long rides is what I need to train my muscles again.»
She locks eyes with you. «But yeah. This sucks.Are you... Willing to help me again? I know it's gross, and probably even worse than before, but-»
«Of course.» You interject. «I was the one who caused this anyways. Well, sorta. You just got the short end of the stick.»
You grab her shoulder and show her to the bathtub. «It's not exactly pleasant, but I'll always help you with this when you need it. I promise. Now let's get it over with quick this time. The air is a lot worse in here than out on the plains.»
As she lays down in the tub, she locks eyes with you yet again.
«...Thank you.» She says plainly.
«Love you too, hun.»