Wendy’s Week in Diapers – Part 3

From Bytemine

By the time she came to the den a few minutes later the starch had left her. She was back to begging for leniency. "But they'll know. They'll find out. I can't face them!"

I was ready for that line and told her about the bladder infection. She thought about that for a while and left without saying a word.

We met at the door. She was carrying her largest purse and it was

bulging. She would have to keep it closed or her secrets would be on display. There was a funny look in her eye that made me wonder if she hadn't discovered the erotic aspects of the evening. In the car she confessed it.

"I seem to be peeing all the time." she said quietly, without warning.

"I know. I planned it that way."

There was a pause and she shifted on the seat as if uncomfortable. "Don't get me hot. It really hurts when I get hot." I smiled to myself. Maybe I could talk Mike into showing a blue movie or two.

It didn't take long during dinner for Judy to tune into the strange

electricity between Wendy and me. She kept looking at each of us and Wendy occasionally squirmed, adding more clues. Mike and I took our brandy to the living room while the girls cleaned up. I knew that Wendy would come under some intensive questioning in the kitchen and I cursed the fact that I couldn't hear them. Mike had had a few too many glasses of wine so he wasn't aware of anything strange going on, at least until Wendy made her dash for the bathroom.

We saw her, gasping, run through the living room, pausing only to pick up her enormous purse. Her cheeks were flaming red and she didn't make eye contact with anyone. The bathroom door closed with a slam just as Judy came into the living room, wiping her hands on a dish towel.

"What is her problem?" she said sincerely.

"I don't know what you mean." I said coyly.

Judy looked at me like I had just claimed to be Henry VIII. "Give me a break. The woman has been acting strange since she got here, not to mention the fact that she is wearing her highest heels and opera hose under a casual skirt. “What are you doing to her?"

I wanted to tell Judy everything but there is a strong taboo about kinky sex and I wasn't sure where Mike and Judy stood on the issue. I decided to play it safe. "Wendy has a unique form of bladder infection. Part of the treatment is that she has a catheter inserted, to relieve stress on her bladder, and therefore must wear a diaper to take care of the resulting incontinence."

Mike's head snapped up. "You mean she is wearing a diaper?"

I nodded. Judy looked thoughtful. "Oh, how horrible for her, but it explains a lot."

Both Mike and Judy seemed to be content with that much of an explanation.

By the time Wendy reappeared from the bathroom all eyes were on her and somehow I think she knew that I had spilled the beans somewhat.

"What are you all staring at?" she said with crimson cheeks.

"Uh, nothing." Judy said. "Why don't you come and help me with dessert?"

I had never heard a more thinly disguised invitation for "girl talk" and again I cursed the fact that I couldn't hear every word of it. Nonetheless I strained to catch occasional phrases and words from the kitchen.

The next hour was pretty boring. I knew that Wendy had taken at least three glasses of wine and obviously had forgotten the fact that every drop of it was destined for her diapers. We started a game of cards and I began to watch my wife very carefully.

What sort of diaper was she wearing? One of the itchy Attends or one of the somewhat unreliable cloth diapers? There was no doubt that she was wet but how wet?

From time to time Wendy would squirm on her chair. I knew what was

troubling her and from the expression on Judy's face it was no longer a secret amongst the women. Finally Wendy excused herself and Judy followed her without a word of comment.

"What's going on?" Mike asked through his alcoholic fog.

"I think the ladies are attending to feminine matters." I said as I

wondered if Judy had learned the truth yet.

The click of the bedroom door closing was all the answer I needed.

On the way home Wendy was strangely silent. I had a hundred questions to ask but I knew she would be more cooperative once confined in the unyielding embrace of the neck stocks.

I took command as soon as we got through the door. Once she was safely immobilized, her sodden cloth diaper and plastic panties exposed, I began my interrogation.

"You and Judy seemed to spend a lot of time together tonight." I said carefully.

She was lying on the bed, her diapers exposed. I was laying out three cloth diapers to keep her dry during the night. She was anxious for a change.

"Never you mind about that. Just let me get on with being comfortable and then let me get some sleep."

"Come now," I teased, "surely you don't expect me to settle for that as an explanation of your trip to the bedroom together?"

Wendy looked away. Dressed as she was, and helpless to do anything about it until I took out the catheter, it was her only possible gesture of avoidance.

"She knows a lot."

"The truth?"

"Which one? The medical explanation or reality?"

"I want to know if you told her the real reason why you are in diapers."

She closed her eyes, a sure sign of a true confession. "I told her

everything."

"Everything?"

She suddenly stared at me. "Everything! And you'll be pleased to know that she approved and even asked me a lot of questions about the whole diaper scene!"

That sent my head spinning. I didn't say much as I bundled Wendy up for the night in three cloth diapers and a pair of snap-sided heavy rubber pants from the hospital. I released her from the stocks and she waddled across the room. The rubber squeaked and crackled. I'm sure she threw me a dirty look as she got into bed.

We snuggled up together. I could tell from the way she wanted to be cuddled that she really wasn't sore at me over the catheter. I ran my fingers past the crotch band of the rubber pants to find a dripping love tunnel.

"I thought it hurt to get horny?" I asked as she began to kiss my chest.

"Not if you coat the catheter with some lubricating jelly." she said between love bites.

"And how did you discover that?" I asked suspiciously.

"Judy," she mumbled, "showed me. Had a catheter a few years ago. In for six months. Had to get some relief. Finally found a way."

By now we were both pretty steamed so I unsnapped her rubber pants,

unpinned one side of the diaper and slipped into her. It was wild, crazy and strange and we both loved it. After we caught our breath I pinned the now damp diapers back into place.

"I want a change!" she pouted as she stuck her thumb in her mouth.

"Too bad." I said in my best father-like tone, "you are being punished, remember?"

Wednesday starts here. The next morning, Wednesday, Wendy wasn't so turned on. She begged, pleaded and promised me the world if I would just take the catheter out and let her go to work in normal clothes. But I wasn't having any of it. Watching my beautiful wife go through her morning routine wearing just a white silk blouse, her diapers and plastic panties, a garter belt, seamed stockings and high heels was something I'll never forget. The more she got flustered and the more she complained the more determined I was not to let her out of her diapers sooner than promised.

Finally she gave up and began to pack a lot of Attends and some of the Pampers-like disposables I had brought home from the hospital.

"Disposables?" I asked, "I thought they made noise and were uncomfortable."

She was squatting down on the floor as she tried to stuff another adult disposable diaper into her brief case. She didn't turn her head to reply. "And what am I supposed to do with wet cloth diapers in the ladies room at work?"

I didn't reply to that. I just saw her off with a peck on the cheek and went to the study to think about things.

I decided I missed the retainer belt and the fact that it forced Wendy to come home on her lunch break. The catheter was handy but it did have its drawbacks. I needed some good ideas. They weren't long in coming.

First, when the health club called looking for a last-minute aerobics instructor I volunteered Wendy to teach at 5 p.m. that night. I knew that Wendy always kept a spare set of leotards in her closet at work but she wouldn't be much interested in wearing something that tight-fitting tonight. So I wrote a note to my dear wife, packed up her loose-fitting track suit in a box put her office address on it and called a quick messenger service. Sooner or later the phone was going to ring.

Actually it took about 90 minutes. She was furious. "You know I can't teach in this condition!" she hissed, trying not to let the whole office know that something was wrong.

"So cancel it!"

"You know I can't. It's already 4:35!"

"Just do your best, Wendy. But do take notes. I want to hear all about it." She hung up on me.

She got in the door at seven. She wasn't mad any more, she was back to begging to be let off. Her face was red and puffy and I wondered if she had been crying.

She headed straight for the bedroom. As she walked down the hall I could see small streaks in her stockings caused by dribbles from her diapers. By the time I got there she had stripped down to her diapers and a bra. "I want you to take this damned tube out of me," she pouted. "This isn't fun any more. I've been wetting myself like a toddler for hours."

I didn't say anything. I just took out the stocks and got them ready for her.

She took one look at them and started to turn red. "You don't have to use those," she said while slowly shaking her head from side to side, "I'll be good."

"It's a case of first things first." I said softly but firmly.

She turned an even deeper shade of red and I thought for a moment that she was about to offer some serious protests but then she just sighed and stepped into place, holding still while I fastened the neck and wrist bands.

I left her standing there while I laid out the diapers she would wear until morning. Feeling a little vengeful, I laid out four of the cloth diapers and then added a fifth, folded lengthwise, as a soaker down the middle. Then I had her lie down on this pile of pads while I went to work on the catheter. I had it out in a jiffy. A few seconds more and she was all bundled up for the night, flexing her legs, testing the thickness of her rubber-covered crotch.

"It's too thick," she said in wonderment, flexing her legs a little more. I knew that voice alright. It was her horny voice. Time for my treat.

She looked at her hands still locked in the cuffs of the stocks and then back at me. She was expecting me to release her. "Oh," she said, "silly me. I forgot about the diaper lock."

She wasn't the only one! I had been so intent on getting the details about the health club that I had forgotten the retainer belt. Close call! I tried to conceal my surprise as I helped her to stand. I had it tight and snug in a minute and this time she looked a lot less enthralled with her diapers.

"Now you can let me go!" she said playfully.

"Nope. Not until I hear what happened at the health club, in glorious detail."

The expression on her face collapsed. She stood in the center of the room, dressed only in bulging diapers, squeaky rubber panties and the absurd diaper lock belt, her hands held at the level of her shoulders by the wooden stocks. She pulled at her tethered hands and did a little dance of frustration.

"Please. No. Don't make me! Just let me go!"

I just smiled and shook my head. "You can tell me or we can find

something to encourage you with."

"Like what?" she pouted, but a little suspicious too.

"Like a suppository."

Her eyes opened wide as she digested what I meant. She looked down at her bound loins and then toward her equally useless hands. We both knew she was helpless to stop me and I knew from things she had said earlier that Wendy had once accidentally soiled a diaper her grandma had made her wear and it hadn't been a fond memory.

"You wouldn't." she said without conviction.

"I would."

Wendy took a trial step or two. We both listened to her heavy rubber panties squeak. She looked at the door. The stocks were too wide to let her pass through it.

She slumped down onto the bed, sitting, with a big sigh. "I knew you weren't going to let me off. Okay. You win. Take the stocks off and I'll tell you all about it."

"First the story. Then the stocks come off. Because if I don't like the story, you are going to have messy diapers by morning."

"Just let me lie down."

"Why?"

"It's more comfortable, okay?"

I helped her lie down, her head on the pillows. This is what she had to say:

Wendy's Story

I guess you've figured it out by now that I run hot and cold on this diapers thing. Sometimes it’s delicious, a private little bondage session that I take with me wherever I go. Other times it's sheer hell, like when I notice people staring at my seamed stockings and reacting to the rustling sounds from my diapers.

I'm always worried that I'm blushing too much. I mean, how are you

supposed to wet yourself while standing in an elevator full of people and not show it?

Anyway, its 4:15 and I'm beginning to curse your idea about tying my shoes in place, because my feet are killing me, when this courier turns up in my office. Problem is he just walked through the door without knocking. He caught me squatting down, having a pee. I was in front of my desk and facing the door so he got a real eye full of my diapered crotch - or at least I'm pretty sure he did because he blushed pretty hard. Maybe he was staring at my garters.

Anyway, we both got pretty red. I signed for the parcel and made sure the door got locked as I saw him out.

I was pretty shaken. It could have been someone from the office. Like I said, I've been attracting a lot of attention lately.

Anyway, as soon as I got the parcel open I saw your note. I got mad. So mad that I flooded my diaper. I was about to go to the washroom to change when I noticed the time. It was too late for anything but leaving for the club. I grabbed my purse and stuffed the track suit into my gym bag. I'm sure I was making sloshing sounds as I headed for the elevator.

Just as I got out onto the street I began to leak. Just a little trickle running down the inside of my thigh. My stocking top took care of it but I knew that if I peed much more I would be a sight.

I guess it was then that I began to think about what was going to happen at the club, I mean, how I was going to handle things. I was pretty sure the changing room had toilet stalls so I relaxed a little.

Once I got to the club I ran to the locker room. I could feel more pee arriving in my diaper and I knew I was about to leak badly.

You picked a great day to do this to me. Did you know that they were painting the toilet stalls and had taken all the doors off?

That really floored me. I was so sure that I would be able to find a private place to change that for a minute I just stood there, peeing myself and wondering how to get out this mess.

Finally I had no choice. It was change or leak. So I took the last stall and hoped no one would happen by.

I got everything ready before I exposed anything embarrassing. A fresh diaper, new plastic panties, my track suit, the works.

I took off my blouse and bra first. Then I cut the fishing line around my shoes and slipped them off. My stockings went next. Finally I was down to my skirt and everything underneath it.

I was about to slip my plastic panties off when I realized a pool of liquid had formed in the crotch. Since I couldn't let it splash on the floor I had to move all my stuff around so I could sit on the toilet and hold the elastic open so it could drain. I took off the plastic pants while still sitting down and only a few drops escaped.

I got rid of the diaper pretty quick after that. I put it between the toilet and the wall, hoping no one would see it. I got rid of my skirt, took off my garter belt and then grabbed a fresh diaper. Have you ever tried to put one of those things on when you're standing? Just as I got it taped, I looked up to see a 12 year old girl staring at me from just outside the cubicle. Her mouth was hanging open. "Is that a diaper?" she asked loud enough to wake the dead. I told her to get lost. As soon as she disappeared I regretted being rude. Now she was sure to tell her mother.

But, let me tell you, I've never had a diaper that felt so good. It was warm and dry and comfortable -- there's nothing like it. Unless you have to go and stand in front of 20 people while you wear it!

I got my plastic pants on and put a pair of normal underwear over them to keep the noise down. Then I put the track suit on, put away my stuff. Put my wet diaper in the trash and tried to get my nerve up.

Everyone stared at me as soon as I walked into the room. My head told me it was because they've never seen me in a track suit. My fear told me it was because they all knew I was wearing a diaper.