Yves' Diapered Adventure Ch. 01

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon and I was spending it the way that I usually did: thickly diapered and gaming alone in my dark room.

Suddenly, I heard the doorbell ring. The sound startled me slightly, causing my bladder to release an involuntary a dribble of pee into my already soaked diaper.

Who could that possibly be? I wondered. I lived alone and was basically a shut in. My neighbors had all but given up trying to befriend and socialize with the mysterious person who had recently moved in at the end of the block, so I doubted it was one of them. But there weren't any other probably suspects either.

"Hello? Is anyone home?" a feminine voice called from my porch.

I didn't recognize the voice from any of the previous attempts to get me to come out, and the delivery services that I relied on for most of my needs knew by now that they only needed to knock once. Besides, they also knew they were supposed to use the side door to leave my packages in my backyard.

I unpaused my game and went back to playing for a few seconds before the woman called out again. "Excuse me, I think I have one of your packages. They dropped it off at my place by mistake."

Come to think of it, I had been expecting a delivery. And one that I needed very badly, I realized as I reached down and felt the front of my thick diaper. I was so used to the sensation of sitting in extremely wet diapers by now that I barely noticed it anymore. Much to my chagrin, I discovered that the entire front, most of the seat, and halfway up the back was almost soaked through. The wetness indicator tabs on the front were almost maxed out as well.

Just then my heart began to race as I considered the implications of my situation. It was very possible that the woman at my door had found out my humiliating little secret, hadn't she? I mean, she would have had to have opened the package in order to realize it wasn't hers, right?

No, maybe there's a chance she just read the label, I told myself, taking deep breaths to calm my racing heart. Either way, my best option was to wait. Maybe she'd simply leave the package--opened or not--at the door step where I could retrieve it later, hopefully at night when no one would be around to see me.

The doorbell rang again, but I ignored it and waddled for the changing table in my bedroom. My diaper badly needed a change in the meantime.

Except there weren't any. I was completely out of diapers.

You idiot! I scolded myself, panicking again. I couldn't believe I'd made such an idiotic mistake. I'd ordered my next shipment of diapers too late, and now thanks to this little snafu with the wrong delivery address, I was about to soak through my last diaper. What then? Was I supposed to sit on the toilet without moving until I could get more? Who knew how long that would take.

"Listen, if you can hear me," the woman called out again, making my heart beat even faster. "I'm not going to leave this here for you. We've been having problems with porch pirates lately. I'll leave a note and you can come get it later."

Oh no. This was a nightmare in the making. I absolutely could not afford to let that happen.

"C-coming!" I nervously called out as I began waddling extremely awkwardly to the front door, my legs seesawing back and forth like a toddler learning to walk for the first time. My thoroughly used diaper had inflated to nearly twice its already considerable bulk. Consequently, it was now drooping heavily, making it extremely difficult to move with my weak, underdeveloped muscles and small frame. Even worse, now that it was encumbering me, I was extremely conscious of the damp clinging sensation as the infantile garment clung to my skin and enveloped my crotch with slick warmth.

I put the thought of how badly I needed a change out of my head as I hopped on to the step stool in front of my door. At a pathetic four and half feet tall, there was no way for me to reach the peephole on my own. Feeling like a little kid despite the fact that I was technically a 25-year-old man, I peered through the glass viewing device. What I saw took my breath away.

Standing there on my porch was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. She looked like she was in her mid thirties and was far taller than most women, probably about six and half feet. Her height combined with her toned, athletic muscles gave her an amazon-like appearance that perfectly complemented her supermodel-esque figure. Raven-black hair spilled majestically over her shoulders and her eyes were an icy dark blue. She wore an a-line dress that complemented her eyes and white sandals. There was something fierce about her demeanor, too. She had the confident, regal air of a woman who was used to getting her way and didn't take shit from anyone.

My legs shook uncontrollably and another squirt of pee escaped my immature bladder. It pooled around my crotch as it was slowly absorbed by my failing diaper.

To say that I was intimidated by this woman would be an understatement. I really didn't want to open the door and face her, but it seemed I had no choice. I was in a desperately situation and really, really needed more diapers.

I hopped down from the stool, gulped, then opened the door just far enough to lean my upper body, which was concealed by a pink t-shirt with a heart on it, out of the frame.

"Oh, hello there sweetie," the woman said, switching to that saccharine, condescending voice adults typically used with young children and putting her hands on her knees. "Is you mommy or daddy home?"

I cringed in embarassment, but couldn't really blame her. She was simply reacting to what she saw. From her perspective, a young, scared little girl had just answered the door. Not an adult male.

"Um..." I sputtered, my mind racing to figure out what combination of words would end this interaction as quickly as possible. I came up with nothing, though. It was much more difficult than I'd anticipated to hold my composure together under the withering, mature gaze of the giantess who towered over my diminutive frame. So I just stood there, shaking like the frightened little kid I appeared to be.

"What's wrong?" the woman asked, dropping down to one knee. "Are you ok?"

I risked a glance at her eyes, which seemed to be sparkling with genuine warmth and kindness now. Perhaps I would have found them comforting if I was a real kid instead of an adult with a medical condition who merely made him look like one. Instead I looked down shamefully at the ground, unable to muster the nerve to return her gaze.

"I-I'm... f-fine," I managed to stutter pathetically in my naturally high-pitched voice.

The woman frowned. "Are you sure?" she asked. "I'm just worried about you. A girl your age shouldn't be home alone, much less answering the door for strangers."

Oh crap. This conversation was going sideways very quickly. The woman probably thought some kind of weird situation was going on here and was going into Mama Bear mode. After all, what else could she think? First, there were rumors of an eccentric man no one had ever met moving into the neighborhood, now there was what seemed to be a little girl answering his door?

"I-I'm not a l-little girl," I quickly blurted with as much confidence as I could muster to diffuse the situation, which was basically zero. With my voice trembling so badly, I knew my words had had the opposite effect.

"It's okay, you don't need to lie, honey," the woman continued sweetly, putting a hand on the doorframe. I twitched back from her and tightened my grip on the doorknob, terrified that she was going to look around the corner and see my obviously well-soaked, enormous diaper. "I'm not going to hurt you. My name's Diana. What's yours?"

I was so nervous that I answered without thinking. "Yves," I said. It's French and technically a boys' name, but it sounds like the English girl's name 'Eve'.

"Eve," I'm worried about you, Diana said conspiratorially, leaning even closer. "Do you mind if I come inside!"

"Er, no!" I protested. "I mean, d-don't do that!"

"Why not?"

"Um, because..." I started, but couldn't think of a convincing lie. All I could do was reveal the truth, which I absolutely did not want to do.

"It's okay," Diana whispered, winking as she took out her phone. "Someone's listening to you right now, right? I'm going to call some people that can help."

My eyes went wide. The last thing I needed was for the cops to get called. I'd have to explain everything to them, and probably in a leaking diaper too. Once they realized the truth, word of the pathetic sissy baby who lived here would get out, and I'd have to move again. My cozy little life of isolation for the past few months would become a fresh new hell.

"Wait!" I argued in a panicked voice, desperately reaching for a stand by the door where I kept a few things, including my ID card. It was almost out of reach, but I didn't want to leave the door in case the woman tried to force her way through. I was forced to lean awkwardly, stretching my stubby little arms as far as they would go.

Just then, Diana tried to open the door, throwing me off balance.

Wham! I had stumbled backwards and fallen on my diapered bottom. Thankfully, the thick padding had absorbed most of the impact. It now felt like I had sunken into an oddly wet bean bag chair, due to the massive bulk encircling my crotch. My legs were lifted slightly above the floor and splayed out at a 45 degree angle, and struggle as I might, I wasn't able to bring them any closer together.

Not that it would have mattered. My fear had been realized. My door had swung wide open and Diana was now towering over me in shock.

I couldn't take it anymore. My limit of embarassment had been exceeded by a light year. I began to sob, tears streaming down my cheeks, which were flushed red-hot in shame.

Evidently the universe decided that I hadn't suffered enough that day. As if to rub salt in the wound, my bladder did what it always did when I started crying; abandon all control and completely unload itself into my diaper with a loud hiss.

My pampers heroically struggled to contain the tide of urine, but within seconds they had absorbed all they could. I looked down in horror as every last inch of white turned completely yellow, filled the inside of my diaper with an ocean of pee, then began to leak into a puddle on the floor.

"I'm so sorry, Eve..." Diana said. "Here, let me help you."

"Go away!" I pleaded through racking sobs, covering my face with my hands.

Diana reached for me, then noticed something on the floor. It was my ID card. It must have fallen in the chaos. She bent down and picked it up. I watched in horror as she read it with a bewildered expression, azure eyes shooting wide in shock.

"Oh my god, you really are..." Diana said, covering her mouth. Her eyes flickered back and forth between my pathetically babyish appearance and the ID card. "I'm so sorry. You were telling the truth all along."

I nodded, wiping my tears as she set the card down. "Can I have my package now?"

"Yes, here it is," Diana said, setting a bag I hadn't noticed before next to me. Ok, so she had gone through it before she realized it wasn't hers. Not that she needed more blackmail against me after having witnessed me helplessly wet my diapers until they leaked right in front of her.

"Thanks," I said, fighting back tears as I still fought to avoid eye contact.

"I guess I'll, um... just go then," Diana apologized, already closing the door. "Sorry. Really. I didn't know..." she lingered there awkwardly for a moment, then just shook her head in disbelief and closed the door.

I sat there in a swamp of my own pee a little longer until I had composed myself enough to stand on shaky legs. Although I was obviously desperate at this point for a diaper change, I suffered the horrible sensation of wet mass clinging to my skin for a few minutes longer. I was practically dragging the garment around with me, using one hand to hold it up as I mopped up the pee puddle, then waddled, still crying, to the bathroom. Once there I plopped down in the bathtub, too mentally exhausted and emotionally devasted to clean myself.

What an absolute mortification that interaction had been. I had never felt lower in my entire life than I had just then. Oh all the people I could have acted like a weak baby in front of, and it just had to be someone like Diana. A perfect goddess, so far out of my league it wasn't even funny. Then again, just about every woman was out of my league to begin with, even the average looking ones, let alone her.

After all, what kind of sane, self-respecting woman wanted a guy who was as petite and fragile and feminine as a preteen girl? A guy who had no male characteristics whatsoever? And not only that, but wore humungous diapers and constantly filled them to bursting like an even younger toddler? Even if they somehow got over that fact, unwrapping my diapers would only have revealed a microscopically sized penis and set of balls that looked like they belonged in diapers. At 2 inches erect and 1 inch flaccid, my diminutive wiener was more like a clitoris and probably couldn't even physically penetrate a woman's vagina. At the very least, it would never fill her up the way she needed, the way a proper alpha male's cock would.

As if to mock my situation, my pathetic penis twitched spasmodically in the tight confines of my bulging wet diaper, struggling to hardness. Maybe it was the memory of Diana's flawless body and overpowering femininity, or maybe it was the manner in which the soft, wet, warm, tight confines of my crinkly prison wrapped around my irrelevant little nub, emulating the inside of the pussy I was dreaming about but would never attain. Perhaps it was even the humiliation of the situation that was turning me on. As my therapist had said, some people learned to fetishize their insecurities in order to make them less painful.

Probably some combination of all three. Either way, I was filled with overpowering lust in that moment, my mind overcome with laughably unrealistic images of Diana doing naughty things with me. Without even realizing about it, I began rubbing the front of my diaper, hoping to create some stimulation. It was a futile effort, though, with so many inches of padding insulating my cute clitty.

Instead I began to hump my diaper spasmodically as I was occasionally wont to do, concentrating on the intense fantasy that my clitty was rubbing against the inside of Diana's pussy. (Not penetrating it, no. That was too absurd. Scissoring her like a lesbian would be more accurate.) Permanently stuck in pissy pampers as I was, there was no way I'd ever get to find out what the real thing actually felt like. Humping my freshly soiled diaper was the closest I'd ever come, and I'd grown to accept that fact.

"Oh fuck!" I moaned girlishly as I felt my orgasm build quickly. My nub really was as sensitive as girl's clit, perhaps even more so, and it didn't take much stimulation to get it going, which was the other reason why I could never please a woman like a real man.

"C-cumming!" I whined pathetically as intense waves of pleasure concentrated in my prostate, my ass contracting around the large butt plug currently embedded in my ass. I imagined that another woman was reaming me with a plastic dildo, or perhaps even a real man. The waves spread through my whole body, bringing me to pure bliss.

I felt my clitty spurt weakly inside my diaper, adding a few ounces of thin, watery, impotent cum to the mess already there. Fitting, I thought, as my ejaculate really was more like pee than a properly virile male's semen.

A few minutes later, I came down from my high and untapped my diaper. I hauled the heavy, dripping garment into the pail and then showered myself off. When I was clean I toweled off and rushed back to the bag of diapers by the front door so I could tape myself into one before I needed to pee again. As a heavy wetter, there was a real possibility that I'd need to go again so soon.

Thankfully, my bladder was able to last long enough to retrieve one of the new ones I'd ordered. These were also very thick and white, with wetness indicators and pink trim and pink princess nursery print.

After that I retrieved my pacifier and desperately began sucking on it to alleviate some of my stress as my therapist had recommended. As predicted, my nerves seemed to settle down somewhat as soon as the nib was in my mouth. The room filled with soft little nuk-nuk sounds as I sucked passively on the pacifier without even thinking about it, emptying my mind for a little while.

At some point I came to my senses. I'd probably have to call my therapist and tell her what happened today so she could give me some advice. It was a Sunday, though, and she wouldn't be available until tomorrow, a workday. In the meantime, I decided to get the mortifying events of the last hour out of my head by modeling my cute new diapers in front of my full-length mirror.

The effeminate person who looked back at me from the mirror would have possibly looked attractive if they weren't swaddled in thick diapers and sucking on a pink pacifier. Not to mention standing there with puffy, recently-cried out eyes.

Girly hips, narrow waist, and a bubble butt made even more juicy by the thickness of the diapers hinted at some semblance of mature characteristics. Perhaps they could have even passed as a barely-18 fetish model of some kind. Unfortunately, due to their extremely short stature, effeminate baby face, underdeveloped muscles (even for a young girl) and a small yellow stain spreading on the front of their diaper, it was virtually impossible that anyone would see them as an adult. At best they would be labelled an overdeveloped toddler or perhaps an unusually immature (and probably special needs) teenager.

If only it wasn't for these damn diapers! I mentally cursed, my frustration expressing itself as a petulant stomp of my foot that only served to make me look even more childish. Once I had dared to hope that a big, strong, manly man would at least want me, since I looked so girly. But he'd have to get passed the diapers and infantile characteristics too, which seemed unlikely. After all, real men could easily get as much dripping wet, nubile pussy as they wanted. They didn't need to settle for fake sissy pussy when they had constant access to the real thing.

If there was any hope of getting laid, it would have to be by demonstrating my oral skills. And not only that, but I would need to become a cocksucking savant if I was going to have any kind of chance to of competing against real, non-diapered women.

With a resigned sigh, I retrieved the my big black dildo (which was many times the size of my pathetic clit), suction cupped it to the mirror, and started my daily throat training.

The room quickly echoed with the sounds of wet deepthroating.

Gluk! Click. Glurk! Click. Schlurp! Click.

Each time my head bobbed on the beautiful cock, my lips touched the base of the huge balls and my chin bumped against a small sensor that incremented a digital counter by 1.

I slipped into a rhythmic trance, completely letting go of my bladder control as I did so. Every few dozen deepthroats or so, I pulled back, sputtering and drooling spit before worshipping the balls and shaft itself with loving, playful little licks, sucks, and kisses for a minute or so before going right back to the deepthroating. Sometimes I even swirled my tongue around the head, sucking on it gently. When the shaft wasn't fully nestled in my mouth I was pumping it with one practiced hand and cupping the balls.

Truth be told, I'm extremely bisexual, so the thought of serving men really gets me going just as much as the thought of serving women. By the time my jaw and throat were aching too unbearably for me to continue, my diaper was as wet with impotent sissy cum as it was with pee.

Dutifully servicing dick while dwelling in wet diapers, I mused cynically to myself. Can that get any more pathetic?

As soon as my eyes caught the digital counter, though, I giggled in girlish delight and pride. I had exceeded my previous score slightly!

I kissed the dildo reverently one last time and cleaned it up in the bathroom before returning to my video game. With my daily practice done I was finally free to get back to killing time.

With any luck, I'd completely forget about Diana, too.