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Diapered All Summer (Part 1)

By: Benny

The Decision

It was a good system, not a perfect system, but a good one. I had the whole summer off. Every day my wife would get up, get ready, and go to work. She'd be gone all day; a whole day for me to indulge in my secret desire. She'd never have to know about it. Those were my thoughts as I sat at my computer about to order a case of adult diapers. I had the timing worked out so that the package would arrive during the week while she was at work. I could hide the package downstairs. How would I dispose of the used diapers? I could put them in a separate trash bag, hidden downstairs...maybe drop it in a dumpster once a week. I could figure out disposal. I clicked "submit order". Done. They were on their way. The die was cast.

Now for the rules. I had to set rules for myself. It made it much more enjoyable. Every morning, after my wife left, I could change into a diaper. I would have to go about my regular business for the rest of the day without removing the diaper. I could change the diaper if I wet it. Sometimes wearing a diaper gave me an erection. I would not be allowed to have an orgasm in my diaper. What about messes? I didn't really want to make the mess or clean it up. I could remove the diaper to poop, but then had to put it back on. Not wearing a diaper any week day would require a punishment. I would have a list of punishments and number them 1-6. If I broke a rule, I had to roll a die, and whatever number came up was the punishment I had to abide by. Punishments would come later. First the rules: 1) Must wear a diaper every week day. 2) Can remove diaper to poop, but must put it back on. 3) Must use diaper for peeing. 4) No orgasms while wearing a diaper. 5) Breaking any rule results in a punishment.

It was about one week later, my wife had already left for work. I had gone running earlier, and come home to take a shower. When I got out of the shower, I noticed that the mail had come. I got dressed and picked up the mail, which included a package, discretely wrapped in brown paper. I went inside and immediately opened the package. There they were...48 diapers, which I would have to wear and use, or face my own punishments. My mind was running wild with thoughts, but I knew I had to try one on. So I opened a package, and spread one of the diapers out on the bed. I laid down on it and pulled it up between my legs. I made sure it was adjusted properly and then did the side tapes. I stood up and went into the bathroom to look at myself in the mirror. I had finally really done it, not just fantasized about it. I was wearing a diaper. I put on shorts and a polo shirt, and some flip flops.

I carried my case of diapers downstairs and started looking for a hiding place. It needed to be somewhere my wife never went. Somewhere she'd never have a chance of finding. Finally, I decided on my boxes with off-season clothing. In the summer, I always packed away my sweaters, coats, and other cold-weather gear, and then swapped them out with my summer clothes when the seasons changed again. I could easily hide my case of diapers down here among my winter clothes. This little experiment would only last the summer, and so by the time we started digging around down here again, they would be long gone.

After successfully hiding my stash downstairs, I had to go to the grocery store. I thought "I should go to the bathroom before I leave." Then I remembered I was wearing a diaper. I tried to relax and let go, but I couldn't get over the psychological block of years of potty training. Thinking to myself that this would be harder than I originally thought, I drank some water, and then headed to the grocery store. It was nerve wrecking at first, getting out of my car and walking into the grocery store knowing what I was wearing underneath my clothes. I kept wondering if anyone could hear the crinkle of the diaper, or could see a bulge. But after getting my cart and wandering around a bit, I realized that no one was paying attention to me.

Every step felt different and strange wearing a diaper. Finally, I realized I had been wandering around for a bit just watching people and enjoying the sensation of my diaper, without actually putting anything in my cart. I concentrated and got down to the business of shopping. About halfway through I began to feel some gurgling and cramps in my stomach. Knowing that this was a bad sign, I tried to hurry up. After a while, I started to feel pressure building in my bowels, and I was afraid of the inevitable. I was trying to clench my cheeks together and anything else I could think of to hold it in. Finally, I had to bend over to get an item from the bottom shelf, and some poop escaped. I tried to clamp it shut again, but once it started coming out, it was hard to stop. There I was, standing in a grocery store, and adult man, messing my pants. I couldn't believe I was thinking this, but I was so grateful to be wearing a diaper.

My cheeks were beet red, I'm sure. I tried to stand back up and pretend like nothing had happened. Fortunately, it was the middle of the day, and the grocery was not very crowded. As I finished up my shopping, I could smell my mess. I made sure to buy trash bags, and checked out at the grocery store. When I got to my car, I put the groceries in the trunk, opened the trash bags and spread one out on the driver's seat, just in case the mess leaked out. Then came the moment I had been dreading. I had to sit in my own mess, like a baby. As I gingerly lowered my bottom onto the trash bag covered seat and felt the mess spread around my cheeks and up my crack, I reflected that this is more or less what I had gotten myself into, and that accidents were bound to happen, and I should get used to it, because it was probably going to happen more than I would like this summer.

When I got home, I put away the groceries, and then got down to the business of cleaning up my mess and disposing of my dirty diaper. It was dirty and smelly, and almost made me gag when I untapped the diaper, and opened it up. By this point, it was getting into the late afternoon, and I knew my wife would be home in an hour or two, so I went through the house one last time to make sure that all evidence was disposed of or hidden away. It occurred to me then that messing my diaper should be one of the punishments on my list. I needed to get that list set down before the need for it arose, so that I couldn't try to make it easier on myself.

The Punishment List

I had already had one experience that would qualify as a punishment in the future. Messing my diaper had been miserable, smelly, dirty, and very unpleasant to experience and clean up. That was definitely going on the punishment list. One down, five to go. Another one came to mind pretty quickly: wearing a butt plug for a few hours. This would be suitably uncomfortable. Another one would be going to the grocery store and buying baby food and eating nothing but baby food for lunch. A fourth could be buying a pacifier and having to suck on the pacifier all day. A fifth could be having to hold a quarter against the wall with my nose for 30 minutes with my diaper on display. Finally, a sixth could be having to wear a short t-shirt with my diaper at home one day, without being allowed to cover the diaper in any way.

It didn't take long for me to break a rule. The fifth day my wife decided to work from home, so I didn't wear a diaper. So the next day when she went to work, I got up in the morning and found a die, and rolled it. A "6"...I had to have my diaper on display all day. Although this seemed like an easy punishment when I wrote it down, now I was very nervous. Every day, after I put on my diaper, I put on pants or shorts and went about my business, and no one else was the wiser. Now I would be exposed. I put on my diaper that morning, and a t-shirt that left my diaper on full display. In particular, I knew that this was going to be a long day, because my wife had left me a "honey do" list, which included mowing the back yard. At least it was the back yard, and not the front. Also, our front door was an open glass pane, so anyone could see in. I would be working hard to avoid the front door all day, and I would have to expose myself and my secret to the neighbors in my grass cutting. All I could do was hope that I got lucky. I decided that the grass cutting was the most nerve-wrecking task, and that if I could get that over with, then perhaps I might be able to relax a bit for the rest of the day, rather than letting it hang over my head.

I scoped out the back yard and the neighbors' yards, looking for any evidence of others. Finding none, I went into the garage, got the lawn mower, and pushed it into the back yard. Feeling exposed, excited, and scared all at the same time, I figured I had crossed the line, and I might as well get this over with. So I started the mower, and began cutting the lawn. There I was wearing a t-shirt, diaper, and sneakers, and nothing else, with my white legs and padded bottom completely exposed to anyone who might look out their window, or come around the side of the house, etc. What would I say if one of my neighbors saw me? "Oh, I'm doing this because I lost a bet." Or perhaps I could say I had a medical condition. Oddly, despite how exposed and vulnerable I felt, after ten minutes of cutting and nothing happening, my anxiety dropped off. I finished up the yard, put the mower back in the garage and went inside without incident.

I drank some water to cool off after being outside and mowing the lawn. My diaper was already a bit wet from my coffee earlier in the morning. But I was discovering just how absorbent these diapers were. I could wet a few times moderately without needing a change. The first couple days I had trouble letting go and wetting my diaper, so I drank lots of fluids to put pressure on my bladder. When I finally did go, it was like a flood, which was hard for my diaper to soak up all at once. But after several days, I was getting more comfortable with more moderate wettings which got absorbed more easily.

I ate lunch and was feeling much better about my "punishment" now that the hardest task of the day was over, and I seemed to have gotten away with it. I sat down in the living room to read for a bit. While I was reading, suddenly the doorbell rang. I froze. What should I do? The whole point of my punishment was that I had to keep my diaper on and exposed. I wasn't expecting anyone to drop by in the middle of the day. What if it was one of the neighbors and they saw earlier? The bell rang again. What if it was a salesman... The bell rang again. I stood up and realized this was the punishment, and I had to take it, otherwise the whole point of a punishment was void. So, red faced and embarrassed, I walked to the foyer, and as soon as I came in view of the front glass door, whoever was standing there was going to see my secret. As I rounded the corner, I saw that it was a UPS driver. Still embarrassing, but it could be worse. It was a female driver: pretty, twenty-something, blond hair pulled back in a ponytail. There I was standing in front of her wearing nothing but a diaper and a t-shirt. I opened the door, and she smiled and said, "Sorry to bother you sir, but this package requires a signature."

"Oh, right...sure thing." I signed, certain that my whole face was bright red. She handed me the package and said, "By the way, your diaper is pretty wet. Looks like you need a change." She winked, turned around, and walked back to her truck. I quickly locked the door and went back to the living room, out of sight of the glass front door, my heart racing.

To be continued...

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