I recently had an opportunity to go on short road-trip that took me several hours away from my home. Along the way, there were several medium sized- cities with shopping malls that I thought would be fun to stop in and have some diapered sissy adventures. In addition to my regular clothes, I packed my pink diaper bag with cloth diapers, several pairs of plastic pants (including a pair of rumba pants), anklets, black Mary Janes, a toddler bib with the Disney princesses on it, my t-shirt that is embroidered with the phrase "Diapered Sissy" and various other babyish items. Before I left home, early in the morning, I put on a cloth diaper, with a doubler in it, and my pink with polka-dots plastic pants. Over this, I wore my regular big-boy clothes and sandals. The first thing I wanted to get was a pair of white nylon shorts, to "show off" my diapered bottom, thin enough that if you looked closely, you could see I was diapered. Once I was safely away from home, I stopped and changed from my boy shirt, into my "Diapered Sissy" t-shirt. I figured that the longer I had it on, the more I would get used to it. Once or twice, I was wearing it around the house and I forgot I had it on -- I didn't notice it until I saw myself in a mirror. It was a bit chilly here, so I figured I would get by with a light jacket over top of it - that way I could discretely show or hide the wording. So there I was, dressed in my t-shirt, diapers and boy shorts, driving. My first public experience like this was filling up the car with gas. Pretty uneventful, but it got my confidence going. As I was stopped at the gas station, it occurred to me that I had the anklets packed. I have NEVER worn them in public and thought to myself, maybe this is a special opportunity. I popped the trunk and pulled out my diaper bag, opened it up and found the anklets. I got back into the car and put the anklets on - again, figuring the longer I wore them, the less I would notice them. An hour later, I arrived at the first city. It's a nice medium sized-town that has all the typical stores you would expect. Because I was looking for women's nylon shorts in white, I started at a sporting goods store. I found one, in a large strip mall, pulled in and parked the car. While I knew I could zip and unzip my jacket to cover my t-shirt, I also knew the little anklets would say it all. I didn't yet have the courage to go all the way with the Mary Janes; yet, so wore my sandals with my anklets. I knew that once I started walking to the store, I wouldn't stop, so I had to take the first step. I open the car door and step out with my obviously sissyish socks on my feet. As I'm walking in the store, I'm looking for people, and quickly walk into the women's section. As I'm browsing, I'm keeping my eyes open, while I want to be discovered, I really don't. As I see people, I try to hide in the racks. As I look through, I see all sorts of shorts, but no white ones -- every other color, but white. The one white thing I do see is a skort, but I decide that's a couple of steps too far. I leave this store, and drive over to a Goodwill store I had noticed on my way in. Knowing they always have interesting things. I again get out of the car in my anklets and go into the store. While I did see a few cute outfits, (a pair of shortalls looked nice) I certainly did not have the courage to try them on, I leave the store and head to the shopping mall. On my way to the shopping mall, I spot a Kohl's and think this is a good opportunity to do some shopping. I think about putting on my Mary Janes, but I'm still not ready. I go into the Kohl's, unzip my jacket, so the t-shirt is in full view, and browse through the women's clothes. Looking at everything, dresses, underwear, tops, finally, as I'm leaving I see the athletic wear and begin to browse through that. They have shorts in every color: pink, light green, black with white trim. Again, everything, but white shorts. Finally, I come across a pair of white, women's workout shorts. Perfect! I take them to the cashier, and there is a cute girl working the register. As she rings up my purchase, she glances at my shirt, but doesn't seem to notice what it says. Does she notice it, who knows? I return to my car, get inside and remove the tags from my new shorts. I take off my big boy shorts and pull on my sissy girl shorts. They're a little tight, so you can definitely see the bulge of my diapered bottom. I summon up more courage and decide it's time for a real shopping mall. I drive down another mile and pull in. I notice there's a Burlington Coat Factory (including a Baby Depot). This is a good sign, I can get comfortable and then work into the rest of the mall. I think to myself, it's now or never for the Mary Janes, and I decide it's now! I take off my sandals, and put on my sissy shoes. Here I go, dressed as before, with my coat half-zipped up, but this time I have on my girl's shoes. I feel like a real sissy. I walk into the store, and the first section is the Baby Depot. I'm looking for a pacifier, so there I am browsing, and coming towards me is a woman who's also shopping. It has to be obvious to her that I am diapered; if nothing else the shoes must give me away. I don't find a pacifier, so I continue to browse through the baby section. About this time, I need to pee. I look through the baby bibs, but unfortunately most bibs today use Velcro., so there’s nothing for me, except to stand there and pee, so that's what I do. It's now late morning, time to trek into the main part of the mall. I walk out into it and now there is nowhere to hide. I can no longer quickly scurry behind a rack if I see someone. As I walk through the mall, I see people, but can't really bring myself to look at them. Frankly, I have no idea whether anyone is noticing me, but I am sure they have to be. Who could ignore a 6 foot tall sissy with bulging white shorts, anklets and Mary Janes? One of my favorite chains is DEB. I love the junior styles and most of the stores have a Plus section. I strolled through the mall, popping my head in and out of shops, avoiding eye contact, but enjoying every minute. I arrive at this DEB store hoping to see some cute spring/summer dresses I saw at a different store a few weeks back. Unfortunately, this particular DEB store has just opened, so it doesn't have any summer stock -- all of their dresses are for the fall. I walk back into the mall, disappointed, and return to the Burlington Coat Factory to make one last walk through the Baby Depot. As I'm browsing, a cute professional woman her late 20's comes into the same aisle, she gives me a little look and I run into her in the next two aisles. Does she notice? I don't know. I'm done with this store, so it's time to continue the trip, I return back to my car, and as I do, I see a woman walking towards the mall and a new idea hits me -- have her take my picture. I think about this for a second or two, but am not brave enough to ask. I get into the car pleased with myself for taking my first, sissy shopping trip. I head back out onto the expressway, and the next city I stop in is about a half hour away. The shopping mall is just off the exit; I pull in and park my car near the Macy's. As I walk towards the entrance, there is a pretty woman, probably in her late 30's walking towards the mall also. I can't believe I do this, but I get her attention and ask her to take my picture with my cell phone and she agrees. I give her my cell phone, she looks directly at me, and my jacket is wide open, so she can easily read the "Diapered Sissy" phrase on my shirt and she takes the picture. I am very surprised that she doesn't say anything about it, so I ask her if she read my shirt. She then looks closely at it, cracks a smile, and lets out the loudest laugh. I am both humiliated and thrilled. At this point, I decide it would be better to let her head into the mall, and for me to wait, and give her some space. I get back into my car and for some reason feel like I have to wear my pink rumba pants with pink ruffles and a cute little bow on the back. Sitting in the driver's seat, I take off my shorts, pull on my rumba pants and then put my white shorts back on over the top of these. It's now early afternoon, and I'm getting hungry. It's just after lunchtime, so I find a Chili's restaurant just across the street from the mall. Luckily, the parking lot is not too crowded. I park the car and get out. Walking towards the entry, I zip up my jacket to cover the message on my shirt. As I walk into the entry, I see group of men waiting to be seated. So I wait in the entryway, pretending to be on my phone until they're gone.
Once they are seated, I walk in and ask for a table for one.The hostess takes me too a both where she seats me. The place is pretty empty. When I sit down, I make myself comfortable and unzip my jacket, so my waitress can see my t-shirt.My waitress stops by and says hello. She's in her early 20's with a couple of extra pounds on her and mid-length, brown, straight hair. I order a chicken Caesar salad - pretty girly, I think, and a glass of water. Having put my rumba pants on in the car, I can tell they aren't on right. The legs are too low, so I go to the bathroom to fix them. My diapers are soaked, and everything is sagging. I pull up the inner pair of plastic pants, and then the rumba pants. Once I am satisfied, I look in the mirror. Through the shorts, you can definitely make out the texture of the ruffles on my big, bulging diapered bottom. I return to my table and being comfortable, I take off my jacket, so I'm sitting with my shirt in full view. Unfortunately the only woman coming by seems to be my waitress - and if she's read my shirt, she's very professional - not even a smirk. My salad comes and as I'm eating it, I'm thinking about the woman who had just taken my picture, and how people don't pay as much attention to you as you might think. Here she was five feet from me, taking my picture and she hadn't read my shirt. I finish my salad and the check comes. I have my wallet with me, but my cash is in the car. I think about putting the lunch on a credit card, but then decide I'd rather not leave a paper trail. When my waitress comes by, I tell her that I'm going out to my car to get some cash. I get up and begin to walk out. On my way, there's a woman with a newborn and what looks like her mother out for lunch. Here I am walking to my car in my shorts and the t-shirt, and I realize, for the first time how short, my shorts are. I can feel the breeze all the way up my legs. I almost feel like a baby walking around in just a t-shirt over the top of her diapers. When I get to the car, I see my reflection in the window and see what a ridiculous sight I must be. I get my money from the car, return to the restaurant and pay my bill. I then ask my waitress to take my picture, which she gladly does. I leave, get into my car and drive back to the mall, where I find a space near the entrance and park my car. Before I get out of the car, I put my jacket back on, but no longer feel the need to zip it up. I decide, for fun, that I will approach the mall methodically - walk a lap around the entire inside and see what I see. Just a sissy out for a stroll. Within the first few minutes of my walk, I come across a DEB store. I HAVE TO check it out. As I mentioned earlier, these are stores for juniors, and have really cute clothes. They are brightly decorated with a lot of hot pink and brightly lit. In this store, the checkout counter is against the left wall, about half way down and it's raised up a step or two. The left side is also the Plus Size side, so I start browsing through the things in the front hall of the store, making it up to the registers, where there is a very cute girl, about 20 years old behind the counter. She smiles at me and asks me if I need any help, but I demure at this point, while I continue browsing. I see a rack on the wall of the summer dresses I had seen at another DEB store. I browse through and pick out the cutest dress. It's an empire-style, knee length dress, with spaghetti straps. The background is white with a print of pink dots. It has a pink bow that ties in the front and a wisp of crinoline, trimmed in pink, that falls just below the hemline. It is too cute. I find my size, take the dress back to the front counter, and ask the cute girl if I can try it on. I can't believe I'm doing this, but there I am. She says yes and leads me to the dressing rooms that are along the back wall of the store. The rooms all have hot pink doors that start about a foot above the floor, and can't be much taller then five and a half feet. She unlocks a stall and opens the door for me. I walk in and lock the door behind me. I was a little bit uncomfortable that people could see my male hair over the top of the door. On the side of the room opposite of the door there is a full-length mirror and a small bench to my left. I hang up the dress and see myself in the mirror. I take off my shirt and shorts, and I cannot believe that I am standing, in the dressing room of a woman's store in just my diapers and rumba pants. I try the dress on and it is even cuter on me than it was on the rack. I adore myself in the mirror and take a few pictures. I change back into my t-shirt and shorts (but leave my jacket off) and go to checkout, where the same girl helps me again. Once she's all done, I ask her to take my picture, which she does. Again, I am impressed by her professionalism throughout my experience there. She was very helpful and tried to make me feel comfortable. Heading back out into the mall, I continue on my tour with growing confidence. I come across a Payless Shoes and go in, to see what's new. I find the shoes in my size and the girl working there approaches me and asks me if I need any help. I point down at my feet with the anklets and Mary Janes and ask her for something like these. She picks out a couple of Mary Jane styles for me, but nothing that's any better than what I already have on. One problem with women's shorts is that there are no pockets. While I'm wearing my jacket, I'm okay, but I know I will need something to carry my wallet and sunglasses when I don't have it. So my last purchase of the day is a pink backsack - one of these sack like backpacks. The shoulder straps are the strings that close the top. By this time it's getting pretty late in the afternoon, and I have people that are expecting me, so I return to my car for the final leg of my trip. As I'm driving, I start planning how I'm going to get out of these sissy clothes and into my big-boy clothes for visiting my friend and his family. I see a public park with a restroom and decide this is a good place to change. I pull my car up near the restroom and pop the trunk to get my diaper bag. I grab my shorts and polo shirt and carry it all into the men's room. In the distance, there are some older people; my pink diaper bag is probably noticeable, but who cares? I go into the stall and set the diaper bag on the floor and then my big boy clothes on top of that. As I pull down my plastic pants, a good amount of pee trickles out, and onto the floor. I realize I had been peeing into the diaper for about ten or eleven hours, so I shouldn’t have been surprised. The diaper is absolutely soaked; I wring it out into the toilet to get rid of some of the pee. The inner pair of plastic pants are also very wet; luckily, the rumba pants are dry.
I put the diaper and plastic pants into a plastic bag, to be washed later. I decide to be a little bit adventurous, so instead of my big-boy underwear, I put on a pair of pink plastic pants, without a diaper, underneath my shorts. I finish getting dressed, get into the car, and head off to my friend's.
What a Day!
DAY TWO
The next morning, I get up, shower and put my pink plastic pants back on underneath my shorts. I make an early exit from my friend's. When I pop the trunk to put my bag inside the smell of urine is intense. It seems that the first thing I need to do, before I get on the road is to find a laundry mat and wash my diapers. Being early in the morning - 8 or 9 am, the laundry mat is empty, except for me. I bring in my dirty diaper and my diaper bag. I put all my dirty clothes into a washing machine: diapers, plastic pants, t-shirt, shorts and anklets, and start the wash. While I'm waiting, I take my diaper bag into the bathroom and put on another cloth diaper and my pink, animal print plastic pants. Once the wash is done, I exchange my big boy shorts for my girl shorts. I spread all my things on the folding table, and fold them like a good girl, but unfortunately, no one is there to notice. I pack up my diaper bag and head for a nearby Target. I'm mostly looking for a women's t-shirt, form fitting, and one you don't need to tuck in, so maybe the top of my plastic pants would show. At Target, I find a white women's t-shirt, with a scooped neck and small cap sleeves. Perfect for saying, I'm a Sissy,- without actually having to say it. I browse through the sleepwear and come across a little sleep set that is too cute - I have to have it. It's pink with little white hearts throughout, the top has a cute little yoke and there's a ruffle along the bottom. Very little girl-ish.
I also see the cutest anklets with a nice, eyelet lace ruffle. With my selections made, I head to the checkout and then back to my car. Once in my car, I have to take off my boy shirt and put on my new t-shirt and anklets. It's time to hit the road for home. Wanting some more shopping fun, on the one hand, but not wanting to press my luck on the other, I decide to take a longer way home that will take me through a third city.
Once I arrive, my first stop is Babies R Us. Usually, I'm pretty good about timing my entrances into stores, so I don't run into people. This time I was not. I get out of my car and just as I am half-way to the store, an older man and a woman who looks to be his adult daughter walk out. They obviously notice me, dressed in my sissy anklets shoes and bulging diapered bottom I scurry into the store, and once inside, I look back out, and they are standing in the parking lot staring back at me in disbelief. I get a huge kick out of it. I'm here looking for some pacifiers and maybe a nice sippy cup. As I'm browsing, the women there are very helpful, but I decline their offers. I browse through the pacifiers and find a package of two, one light green and the other, of course, light pink. It has to be clear to the mommies who are shopping that I am a diapered sissy.
I move on to the sippy cups and find one that is absolutely adorable. It has the Disney Princesses around the outside, Snow White, Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty with a pink top. The top has a flexible straw that reaches to the bottom of the cup. After buying these items, I go to my car and head to the local mall. Once I'm there, I grab the new backsack. I've been wetting all day, and I don't want the same thing that happened the previous day, so I add a cloth doubler to the bag, in case I need it. I again use the same rule I used yesterday - a full lap around the mall. But this time, I begin to make eye contact with some women they look me up and down and smile back. Their glances seem understanding and supportive. One instance, in particular stands out. I am approaching one of the freestanding food kiosks in the middle of the mall and there are three women in their mid-30's getting a drink. One of them looks at me, and then says something to the other two - and I notice that their gazes shift towards me. I begin to notice is that the diaper is chaffing my inner thighs, making every step a reminder of the wet diaper between my legs. As I finish my lap of the mall, I walk towards the Sears store where I parked. Three younger women are walking towards me and I am sure they notice me and must think I'm awfully funny. As I get into the Sears, I notice they've turn around and now they are behind me. I make a few random turns and they keep a little bit of distance, but they are definitely following me. I think they have their cell phones out taking pictures of my obviously diapered bottom and my sissy anklets and Mary Janes. Turning back toward my exit, I move to get by them, I say hello, anticipating they might say something, but unfortunately they don't. I have to get home for physical therapy on my knee, and I'm sure my physical therapist does not want to know about my secret, so I change out of my sissy clothes and back into my big boy outfit. That night, as I'm getting ready for bed, after spending two days in diapers, I notice that in addition to the chaffing on my inner thighs, I have a small rash on my backside. I guess when I spend two days in wet diapers, I should expect a diaper rash.
