Chapter Text
Widowmaker was a sniper, and an extremely experienced one at that. She worked for the Talon terrorist organization, and was known for being cold and ruthless, stopping at nothing to kill any target she had been assigned. Despite her mind being free of any humanity that would get in the way of her kill, her body still had certain limitations. She needed to eat, and along with that came her need to, well, shit, to put it bluntly.
She obviously couldn’t stop for a bathroom break in the middle of an important mission, and her anatomy would make it difficult for her to do her business in jars or anything like that. So, the most obvious solution, in her mind, was to go into the battlefield wearing a diaper. It worked out surprisingly well. The need for bathroom breaks was eliminated, naturally, and with Widowmaker’s large ass, it was hard to even tell she was wearing it. And, although she would never admit it, the sensation of being softly padded in a puffy, warm, full diaper did wonders for her concentration.
And, her diaper served another purpose. Widowmaker’s pet peeve was enemies that could teleport, who would frequently discover the spot she was sniping from, teleport to her, and then take her out at close range, when she was most vulnerable. Reaper was one of the most frequent offenders, warping to her and then dismantling her in a matter of seconds with his shotguns.
This would not be the case this time. Widowmaker was scanning her surroundings, as usual, picking off her targets one by one. She saw Reaper spot her, and readying his teleport before she had time to line up her shot. Instead of simply waiting for Reaper to defeat her, she took action, shooting her hook towards him as soon as he appeared. Her hook wrapped itself around him, pinning his arms to his sides to prevent any kind of retaliation on his behalf. She had seen Roadhog do something similar, and decided to try it, despite not being nearly as physically strong as him. She delivered a firm kick to his chest, knocking him to the ground. Next, she turned away from him, with her plump, padded ass hovering above his face. Unfortunately for Reaper, her diaper was very, very full, a pointed bulge hovering only inches away from his face.
Then Widowmaker sat down, pressing her diaper against his mask with a loud *Sqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqrt*
The horrible smell immediately filled his nose. There weren’t many things that could discourage Reaper from his goal of killing, but Widowmaker’s stench may have been too much. He immediately activated his phasing ability, slipping out from underneath her rear. No doubt he was running back to regroup with his team, in pursuit of some fresh air and emotional support. It was unlikely he would be teleporting up to her position again any time soon.
Of course, Reaper was second in annoyance only to one. Tracer was the most frequent thorn in her ample behind, not only being able to teleport, but also possessing those damn lightning-fast pulse pistols, and the ability to rewind herself before she could even react. If she had the opportunity, the cute English girl would soon find herself underneath Widowmaker’s smelly, padded rump as well.
And of course, it wasn’t long before Tracer made her appearance as well. Perhaps Reaper failed to warn her of what awaited her, or perhaps he didn’t care. It would be like him to let one of his teammates suffer without a warning. She zipped towards Widowmaker with her usual speed, vanishing and reappearing in flashes of blue light. Even with her stunning stench, Widowmaker would have to time this perfectly to pull it off.
At the exact moment when Tracer warped closest to her, and pulled out her pulse pistols, preparing to fire, Widowmaker made her move. She wouldn’t bother using her hook on Tracer, she would just rewind herself out of her trap before she could do anything else. She needed to make her first move the one that would give Tracer a taste, or rather, a smell of what was in store for her if she ever decided to mess with Widowmaker again, excuse the pun.
She turned to face away from Widowmaker as she came towards her, and Tracer realized, too late, that Widowmaker was padded, and carrying quite the load as well. Before her body could react to anything her brain was telling her, she was already at the woman’s mercy, excuse the pun again.
The situation Tracer was in was less like being trapped in a spider’s web, and more like being crushed underneath a spider’s massive butt, if that but was squishy and reeked of shit.
"Vous feriez un coussin fantastique" she said, rubbing her ass cheeks against Tracer’s face, making sure she got every last bit of smell out of the experience. Widowmaker’s stink was stupefying, and Tracer was lost in a haze for a few moments as it assaulted her nose. Eventually, she was able to snap out of her stink-induced trance, calling upon her recall ability to teleport her back to a time when she wasn’t underneath Widowmaker’s rancid butt. She used up all three of her blink charges to put as much distance between herself and Widowmaker as possible. Despite the fact that she was no longer anywhere near her, the smell she had experienced still hung in her mind, and felt as though it was still burning her nostrils.
Later, when the match had ended, and Tracer was socializing with her teammates back at base, the thought of that smell still hadn’t left her mind. Sure, it was pretty weird that Widowmaker was wearing a diaper, but she had heard of male snipers keeping their pee in jars before, so she supposed it made sense. The thing that confused he was the fact that she enjoyed the smell. Despite how awful it was, it made her pussy ache with pleasure. The wet spot inside of her suit, right on her crotch was the final proof of this fact.
She craved to experience that stench again. Perhaps, if she were to encounter Widowmaker again, she could relieve her experience oncemore?
Sure enough, Widowmaker was present for the next match, once again sporting a tremendously full diaper as she squatted from her sniping position. It was the perfect distance for Tracer to dash right up to her, making her vulnerable to that delicious, stinky spiderbutt oncemore.
Which is exactly what she did, taking three blinks towards Widowmaker, ensuring she would make the exact same mistakes as last time that previously led to her stinky fate.
Widowmaker eyed Tracer curiously. Was she really going to repeat her previous failure? Had all of that time traveling screwed with her brain? No matter, if Tracer was so willing to repeat her last mistake, Widowmaker was going to indulge.
Tracer stopped as she neared Widowmaker, giving her a teasing smile. “Think you can sit on my face again?” she taunted. “Why are you wearing a diaper anyways? Are you some kind of big baby?” she stuck her tongue out.
"I don’t think I’m the childish one here" she retorted, the sniper showing a surprising amount of confidence for someone with a load of shit dangling between their legs.
Widowmaker strutted towards Tracer, knowing her onto her bottom with a heavy push. Without giving her a chance to get up, she plopped that smelly shit-sack on her again, making sure that the bulk of the mess was right above her cute little nose.
Tracer didn’t realize, at first, that she was greedily inhaling Widowmaker’s stench. It wasn’t even subtle, she could be heard sniffing deeply over the crinkling of her diaper and the cacophony of the battlefield.
"Are you…enjoying this?“ she said, raising a brow suspiciously.
"N-No!” she blurted out, immediately activating her recall, sending her tumbling back to her previous position, where she zipped away, trying to keep Widowmaker from seeing the intense blush on her cheeks.
Tracer promised herself she would never try something like that again. Getting that deep, deep whiff of Windowmaker’s mess was almost worth it, but she didn’t want to confront her after she almost figured out her secret. She would have to find some way to indulge this in secret that didn’t involve Widowmaker.
Widowmaker could no longer be the source of the smell she craved, and she wouldn’t dare ask any of her fellow heroes to pad themselves just for her. She could, well, she could try padding herself. Maybe her own mess would give her the same satisfaction.
Of course, she couldn’t just get a diaper on her own. There was one hero she knew who could get her one, though. Mercy had tons of medical supplies on her at all times, certainly she had a few diapers for emergency scenraios.
"Hey, uh, Mercy!“ Tracer said, approaching the blonde-haired healer after the battle. "Is it okay if I ask for some stuff? I have a, uh, medical emergency.
"Oh, what’s wrong?” she said in a sympathetic, almost motherly tone.
"Uh, I need some diapers!“ she said, before realizing she probably should’ve opened with her symptoms, instead of what she needed so she would sound less suspicious.
"And why is that?” Mercy replied.
"Uh, I’m on my period. Errr, anxiety. Errr, uh, temporary incontinence! Yeah, uh, my time powers make me loose control of my stomach sometimes" she put a hand on her belly and let out an unconvincing laugh.
"Tracer, I’m aware of your little…kink" she said.
Tracer stifled a gasp. “W-what are you talking about?”
"There’s no need to lie to me. I’m a medic, it’s my duty to monitor the battlefield. I saw how…enthusiastic you were to be under Widowmaker’s rear, particularly the second time. I’m not here to judge you. I’m under patient confidentiality, after all, so nobody else needs to know"
Tracer nodded, feeling a good bit reassured. If it was anyone other than Mercy, she would probably still be panicking, but on the battlefield, you learned to associate Mercy’s voice with relief.
"I’ll provide you the diaper you desire, on one condition" she said.
Tracer nodded, knowing that Mercy’s request was bound to be fairly reasonable.
Mercy sighed. “I have something of a similar fetish myself. If you’re going to indulge yours, I think it’s only fair that I get a chance to fulfill mine, as I am giving away valuable medical supplies for the sake of your arousal”
They both knew that the diapers she stocked had never, ever been used before, and probably never would be for any other reason besides this.
"Yeah, what do you want me to do?“ Tracer asked. The idea of soiling herself was appealing enough, but getting Mercy involved would actually just improve the experience.
"Well, I was looking to do some mommy kink roleplay. Do you know what that is?”
Tracer shrugged. “It’s where I act like you’re my mum, right?”
Mercy nodded. “Essentially, yes, although I’d prefer mommy to ‘mum,’ or 'mummy’ if your accent gets in the way”
Tracer chuckled. Mercy always had a motherly aura about her, and exploring that in a more lewd capacity, well, it wouldn’t be entirely unwanted.
"Anything else?“ Tracer asked.
"Well, I had a whole, erm, scene in mind that I’d like to play out”
Tracer leaned forward, intrigued. “Well, don’t keep me waiting!” she replied.
Mercy took a deep breath. “I’d like to breastfeed you, and have you call me mommy. Then, when you’re nice and full of my milk, you’re free to, uh, relieve yourself”
"Sounds good to me" she said in a surprisingly casual way, trying to hide how arousing the scenario really was to her. The idea of it was just so deliciously taboo, she couldn’t resist.
"I’m glad" Mercy said, beginning to disrobe. “You should change into this” she added, tossing the diaper her way. It felt thick, bulky, and absorbent, crinkling at Tracer’s touch.
"Uh, do I need to take my clothes off?“ she said. Mercy shrugged. "It’s up to you, really. You’d look cute nude, but I also think you’d look adorable with your diaper bulging underneath your skintight outfit”
Tracer decided she would wear it underneath her clothes. The idea of her skintight pants packing her mess in tight seemed like it would be pretty satisfying to her. She didn’t hesitate to strip in front of Mercy, just as Mercy had no problem with changing in front of her.
Soon, they were both ready to fulfill their respective roles, with Mercy wearing only her black panties, with her large, perky breasts and cute rosy nipples exposed. Tracer’s decided she should leave her chest exposed. Her pale breasts were smaller than Mercy’s, but still very perky. Her nipples were a similar soft pink hue, and fully erect. Her bottoms were completely covered, however, with her diaper tightly sealed in her skintight yellow pants.
"Are you ready?“ Mercy asked.
"Uh, yes, uh, mummy” she said, trying to remind herself of Mercy’s new title. Mercy smiled. “Yes, I’m your mommy, now come, mommy wants to feed you”
Mercy took a seat, and Tracer laid underneath her, across her lap. She took one of her large, round breasts into her hand, pulling the nipple towards her mouth. She took the nipple between her soft lips, sucking gently. She wasn’t sure why she was so surprised when she felt the warm, sweet milk rushing into her mouth, but it did. She kept at it, though, Mercy’s sweet breast nectar only serving as further encouragement.
"Mmmm, mummy~“ she moaned, taking her mouth away for just a moment. Mercy bit her lip, trying to make how turned on she was not so immediately obvious. Tracer would continue sucking for several minutes, only taking her mouth away to lustily call Mercy her mummy before returning.
"I think that’s all I have in me” Mercy said. Tracer pulled her mouth away, not realizing in her trance-like state that she was extremely full. She was so full, in fact, that her stomach was bulging from the milk she had drank, now sporting a cute bulge that wobbled and sloshed whenever she moved. “Well yeah, mummy, I’d hope you didn’t have any more. Otherwise I might explode”
Mercy smiled. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”
"Oh, right!“ Tracer said, as her stomach gurgled just at the perfect time. All of the milk she had consumed, and the food she had eaten earlier was finally ready to make its way out. "Alright, here we go…”
Tracer squeezed as hard as she could, her face scrunching up cutely.
*RRRRRRRRRRT*
With a mighty groan and a crinkle, Tracer released the mess she had been craving. Perhaps wearing her diaper underneath her bottoms wasn’t the best idea. As her diaper filled up, sagging, drooping, and swelling to contain her mess, the pants began to creak, and stretch. Before long, they simply couldn’t handle the size of her inhumanly large mess, and tore with a sudden and sharp ripping sound. Mercy tried her best not to laugh.
Tracer wasn’t bothered that her favorite pair of pants was ruined, though. That heavenly diaper stench hit her nose, and she was just as euphoric as she had been under Widowmaker’s butt. Sure, their smells weren’t exactly the same. Tracer’s diet of greasy English food gave it a different scent than whatever Widowmaker ate, in addition to all of the breast milk sloshing around in her tummy. But it was still foul, rancid diaper stink, and that was enough to give Tracer her thrill.
She discovered that it wasn’t just the smell of a nasty, loaded diaper that turned her on. The feeling of wearing one gave her a rush too, all that warm, slimy shit packed right up against her perfect ass. By time she had finished filling it, her diaper had bloated to ridiculous proportions, jutting out several feet from her rear.
It was all too much for her now, the greasy stink of her filth, her tight, churning belly filled with breastmilk, the feel of her mucky diaper. Her mouth hung open, and her tongue with it, a long strand of drool dribbling onto the floor. Tracer experienced a breathtaking orgasm, without so much as touching herself one bit, the front of her diaper flooding with her sexual juices.
Mercy had been watching the whole time. She, unlike Tracer, did not have the privilege of a hands-free orgasm, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to cum herself. The appeal of Tracer’s diaper stink seemed to be infectious, and the moment she took a whiff of it her hand descended down her panties. She furiously, skillfully fingered herself, reaching her climax soon after Tracer’s.
"Ah, well" Mercy said, taking a deep breath and regaining her composure. “It looks like someone needs a changing. And who better to do it than your mommy~”