"By the way, grab the butt plug, you're getting diapered before we leave", she calmly said, as if she was telling me not to forget the milk or take out the trash. "Do I have to?", I meekly responded, trying to put up a fight and defend what tiny shred of masculinity I was still hanging on to.
"Yes", she replied, annoyed by my reluctance.
I laid everything out on the bed for her inspection, which seemed to meet her approval as she then ordered me to get ready.
I lubed up the butt plug and inserted it before pulling up the first diaper, a pair of pullups, then laid down on the bed. As much as I've learned to love being diapered, the worst part remains having to lay back and ask Miss H for help with the second thick diaper. It's much more padded then the pullups and has a slick plastic exterior and tape tabs to secure it. You can kind of fool yourself into thinking that the pullups are like underwear, but there's no mistaking the Tranquility All Through the Night diaper as anything but that, a big padded diaper that I have to wear.
Asking for her help and having her actively place me in that diaper both sexually excites me to no end yet at the same time almost pushes me to the verge of tears some time. It's a weird paradox, being both simultaneously turned on and also suffering mentally and emotionally at the same time. I can't explain it, I just chalk it up to a crossed wire deep in the folds of my brain and leave it at that.
To finish up I slid on the plastic panties and stood up. I was still wearing my cock cage so I could feel the strain in there as I unsuccessfully tried to get erect as the sensation of the butt plug deep inside me and the crinkle of my diapers proved to much to handle and I became immediately excited.
I've been forced to wear diapers out in public before, but this time was different thanks to the plug and the cage still being on. Simple things like sitting in the car became unexpected surprises as the butt plug pushed in deep as I sat down. Just as soon as I'd start to forget it was there, something new would happen to remind me of my predicament. Miss H wasn't helping matters by randomly whispering horribly degrading things in my ear while giving my ass a hard smack.
The combination of some baggy cargo pants and a big t-shirt helped to minimize any totally obvious signs of the bulky diapers I was wearing, but that did little to keep me calm. With every step through the store I was keenly aware of just what I was wearing on, around, and in me. The whole experience was horribly embarrassing, I don't think I made eye contact with a single person while we were there. Every even semi cute female we walked by made me cringe with utter humiliation. My mind racing with what terrible things they would say to me if they know what was really going on. Every guy I came across made me feel weak and feminine, as I remembered what Miss H said when we first walked through the entrance.
"How many men in this store do you think would allow themselves to be diapered, plugged, and caged by their wife or girlfriend? No real man would. How man men in the whole shopping center or the city or even the whole state would? You do though, because you're a little sissy bitch. Isn't that right?"
With my eyes fixed on the floor I slowly nodded as I continued to push the cart down the long, empty aisle. Cock twitching and leaking inside my diaper as Miss H walked on ahead, more concerned with getting the right salad dressing then bothering herself with my crushed feelings.