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Diapered All Summer (Part 2)

By Benny

The Surprise

After my embarrassing experience with the UPS girl, I was really good for the next couple days, following all the rules. The weekend passed without incident, and I really thought I had a good thing going. I was wearing ds every day, using them, following my rules, and taking my punishments when I didn't. Monday afternoon a surprise came. The doorbell rang in the afternoon, and I answered the door wearing shorts and a golf shirt. It was the UPS girl again, same one. She smiled and handed me my package and walked away; no comments this time. I thought to myself that it was strange that I would get a package in the mail; I hadn't ordered anything recently. There was no return address on the package. It wasn't very big or heavy. I took it into the kitchen and opened the box with a pair of scissors. Inside there was an envelope with my name on it. I opened it, and there was a piece of stationary that had the words

"Somebody's been a naughty baby" written on it. My heart skipped a beat. Under the note were pictures of me mowing the lawn, clearing wearing a d. My heart nearly stopped. Someone had caught me; could it be one of the neighbors? The UPS girl? A stranger? My head was spinning. Also in the box was a pacifier with an extra-large dummy that looked like it would fill my mouth. Underneath that was a note that said simply, "Take two pictures (both while sucking on your new pacifier): one a close-up of your face and the other a full body shot with your d on display, and e-mail them to [email protected]."

What to do? I sat at the kitchen table staring at the note, the pictures, and the pacifier. If I did nothing, this mystery person might do something with the pictures she already has of me like post them to the internet or somehow distribute them to my family or co-workers. That would be mortifying. I would never live it down. Then everyone would know my secret. They would think I was a pervert, my life would be ruined, I might lose my job. Or she might do nothing. On the other hand, if I took the pictures and e-mailed them to her, she'd have more incriminating evidence against me, and she'd know my e-mail. But she might know my e-mail already, and she certainly already has my address, and some incriminating pictures of me. What's the difference between two pictures of me in a d and four? One is enough to ruin my life. The clock was ticking, my wife would get home from work soon, and I needed to clean up and hide the evidence. If I was going to do this today, it had to be soon. I opened the package with the pacifier, brought some water to a quick boil on the stove, and dropped the pacifier in there to make sure it was clean. In the meantime, I fetched my camera and set it on the counter top in the kitchen facing one wall, set the timer, and walked over to the wall, to frame the shot. Then I pulled the pacifier out of the water, and shook the excess water off. Staring at it for a second, I opened wide and slid it in my mouth letting my lips close naturally around it. It was large, large enough to fill my mouth. I naturally found myself sucking on it gently, and feeling quite relaxed. I unbuckled my belt, unbuttoned my shorts and let them fall to the floor. I set the timer on the camera, and went and stood over against the wall and waited for the camera to take the picture. After it did, I reviewed it, and then held the camera out with my arm and took a close-up of my face with the pacifier still in.

There I was, standing in my kitchen, wearing a d, sucking on a giant pacifier, with my shorts around my ankles, looking at two very incriminating pictures of myself on my camera. Taking the pictures was only step one...now I had to decide if I was going to actually cross the Rubicon and e-mail these to my mystery person. I opened up my computer, logged on, and plugged in my camera. I transferred the pictures over, and then deleted them from the camera, to erase excess evidence. Although at this point, as the incriminating evidence mounted and someone other than myself was already aware and involved, the secrecy was seeming sillier and sillier. On the other hand, there's no need to leave these photos on an SD card sitting around waiting for someone else to accidentally pick it up and discover my secret. I logged on to my e-mail, attached the photos, and typed her e-mail address into the "to" line. My heart was beating fast again. I was still sucking on the pacifier, staring at the computer screen with my cursor hovering over the "send" button. Send it...or not? My wife would be home soon, and I needed to clean up and dispose of my d. It was now or never. I took a breath and clicked "send". Done. My fate was now in the hands of a mystery woman.

It was just as I closed my computer that I heard a car door shut, and I looked out the window to see my wife getting out of her car. My heart started racing. I was standing in the living room sucking on a huge pacifier wearing a d. I moved quickly and gathered up the box and all its contents, pictures, notes, packaging, and dropped the pacifier in there, and closed it. Then I ran downstairs, and stashed the box away in my workroom underneath a bench, and ripped my d off. I balled it up, stuffed it in an old plastic grocery bag, and tossed that into a trash can I had in my workroom. I figured I could always remove the evidence and hide that box better tomorrow while she was at work. I pulled my shorts back up and buckled them, took a deep breath, and walked upstairs, trying to look as calm and casual as possible, knowing I would find my wife upstairs already in the house, home early.

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