Here Comes The Airpwane!

“Are you excited?”  Pam asked, leaning over onto my shoulder in the backseat of the Uber.

“For Germany?” I asked, putting my arm around her, “Yea, I think it’ll be really fun. I’m excited to see the sights and try all the beer. All the beer, haha!”

Pam giggled. “No…I didn’t mean Germany, silly! I meant…” she pointed down with a finger towards my crotch. Pulling my shirt up just a bit to expose the white waistband of the diaper peeking over the top of my shorts. I gulped, glancing at the Uber driver, hoping he didn’t see. It wasn’t that I’d forgotten about the diaper, I was just trying to put it to the back of my mind.

“Oh yea…that…” I chuckled awkwardly.

Pam laughed at my discomfort and embarrassment. The diaper crinkled–a bit too loudly–as I shifted in the seat. “It’s your first flight wearing one,” she reminded me, “are you excited?”

“‘Excited’ isn’t exactly the term I would use,” I chortled, “‘Nervous’, ‘Terrified’, ‘Apprehensive’ and all the synonyms are more like it.”

Pam nuzzled closer to me, “You’ll be fine, honey!” she said, inclining her head up to me for a kiss. Giving me all her love and support with her beautiful, pink lips. Grinning sheepishly as she continued to trace her finger along the padding of the diaper. “I tell you what,” she said after a while, “why don’t we make a bet? If you can go the whole flight—and everything leading up to it—without using the safeword…I'll unlock you.”

My interest piqued.  Pam and I always had little bets with each other. It was one of the first ways we bonded. We met at a bar that had typical bar games. I bet her if I beat her in a game of Cornhole she had to give me a kiss. She either sucked terribly at cornhole, or she was sandbagging in order to make sure we sealed the deal. I ended up having to pay for the next date after losing a game of Giant Jenga (even though I would have happily paid for it anyway). The first way I saw her naked was the next week over a late night, 2-player game of strip poker (her idea).

In fact, wagering was how I disclosed to her that I had a diaper fetish. We were on a roadtrip to Colorado, and we made a bet to see who could be the one to go the longest without having to stop to pee.

“Loser has to buy diapers from a drugstore.” I suggested.

To my credit, I held out for quite a while before making sure I was the one who lost. After having to go into the closest CVS to relieve myself and purchase a pack of Depends to settle the bet, Pam said exactly what I hoped she’d say:

“Well, you bought ‘em! Might as well wear ‘em!” and that right there is where I fell in love with her. She noticed how visibly aroused I got as I put on the diaper, teasing me playfully like she always does. “Seems like you’re not too opposed to this idea…” she quipped, and that’s when I told her about my long standing affinity for diapers. “You know, I thought you landed on that whole ‘diaper’ stake pretty quickly…” she laughed. She took it surprisingly well, far better than any of my exes did. Even started making bets with me when I started wearing them somewhat regularly. “Bet you can’t go the next 6 hours without pissing in your Pampers!” she’d say, and I’d lose every time.

Pam had her own kinks as well. She enjoyed humiliating me publicly if she could. Splashing water on my front just as the waitress was coming by so she could say “Excuse me…do you know where the restrooms are? My boyfriend seems to have wet his pants…and I forgot his diapers at home!”

We got married after 2 years together. I proposed to her on April Fools, and she was so adamant that it better not be another prank. It wasn’t. It was the best damn thing I ever did.

But no kinky, competitive couple would be complete without involving a little bit of chastity. It made it so easy to come up with stakes for a bet. Sentencing time quickly became our main form of currency.

“Three days says I can beat you in Before I Forget on Guitar Hero” I’d said.

“You’re on!”

It was a poor choice of song in hindsight. I usually beat her in any song involving solos, but somehow I could never hit the chord progression in the bridge the way she could. I tried to shave off some days by challenging her in board games like Ticket to Ride, 7 Wonders, and Settlers of Catan. But a combination of poor luck, poor plays on my part, and her insane ability to instantly get better at anything when stakes were involved, ended up extending my sentence to over 17 days.

“So you’re saying you’d wipe out over two weeks of time, as long as I don’t use the safeword?” I clarified.

“Yup.” she smiled that beautiful, wicked smile of hers. While I had obviously worn diapers to other places in public before, we’d yet to have me do it on an international flight. But honestly, I hated the small, cramped, airline bathrooms. And with over 10 hours of flight time, I might need the diaper anyway. I couldn’t think of many reasons I’d need to say the word to have her let me take it off.

“You’re on!” I told her.

Pam grinned from ear to ear. Like I’d just played into a move she wanted me to do in a game of chess. “Excellent!” she said, “The safeword is ‘Bonafide’”

******

When we pulled into the dropoff zone at the Airport, the Uber driver gave me a strange look as he helped pull our luggage out from the trunk. I’m not sure if it was because of the puffy padding under my shorts, or the conversation he’d overheard on the ride over. But I didn’t care, I would probably never see him again, and it’s not like he could hurt my rating just because of an innocent discussion I was having with my wife.

With our luggage in tow, we made our way through the sliding glass doors and into the check-in line. Pam took every opportunity to pat me playfully on the butt every time the line moved, like I didn’t know already. When we made our way to the front, the lady checked our tickets, motioning for us to place our bags on the scale. I smirked to myself. If the airline representative only knew how much of our bags were filled with kinky shit. She said nothing though, simply printed out the tags, placed them through the handles, lifted them up, and pulled them behind the counter. “Have a nice flight!” she said, handing us our boarding passes.

We rolled our carry-ons over to the security line, which was rather long. Apparently June was a popular month for traveling.

“School just let out,” Pam said, as if reading my thoughts.

The line moved at a snail’s pace. All the TSA regulations for safety made it an arduous process. I was getting a little sweaty in my diaper as we got closer. Suddenly faced with the realization of what could go wrong.

“Oh! I almost forgot!” Pam exclaimed once we were about in the middle of the line. She ruffled through her bag, her lips betraying the slightest hint of a smirk before pulling out a large baby bottle full of milk. “We can’t have liquids on the plane!” she explained, no longer able to hide her smug smile, “I guess you’re going to have to drink it…” she shrugged theatrically.

I leered at her. She planned this, of course she planned this. Pam would never skimp at the opportunity to pull a prank on me. Especially after what happened on our last flight to Scotland. When she passed out after taking an edible, I used a Sharpie to draw a mustache and a goatee on her face. She spent the rest of the 11 hour flight being none the wiser. She drank so many complimentary drinks she started speaking to everyone around her in a terrible Scottish accent. She was mortified when we landed and saw her face in the mirror.

This bottle thing must have been her attempt to get back at me. But she wasn’t going to get me that easily. I glanced around at the other people in line, feeling my nerves firing as I met eyes with those around me. I sighed, then went to take the bottle from her so I could drink it and get it over with.

“Oh no no no, Jim!” she said, pulling the bottle away from my reach. “Silly babies can’t hold their own ba ba’s. Let mommy do it for you!”

I stood there defeated as she gave me that mocking look. Then she smiled after I stopped making grabby hands, and brought the nipple of the bottle up to my mouth.

I was very aware of the various sets of eyes on me. But I tried not to look as I began suckling at the teet.  The milk had a sweet, tangy, and almost bitter taste to it. It definitely didn’t taste normal, perhaps it had already soured. The shitty part about those bottles is that they allow the milk to flow so, damn, slow. I felt like I was standing there guzzling forever and I barely even made it a quarter of the way before the line started moving again. So I had to shuffle awkwardly and keep the bottle in my mouth at the same time. Some people either stopped caring or paid no attention, but others were pulling out their phones with minimal discretion and either snapping pictures or taking videos. I prayed to god I didn’t become some internet meme. Pam would never let me live that down.

About halfway through the bottle I had to stop and give a large, resounding burp. Pam covered her mouth to keep from giggling. “Are you okay?” she asked, “Do you need to stop? Just use your word and this will all be over!” she winked.

Not a chance. I wasn’t giving up over a little milk. I used her arm to bring the bottle back to my mouth and started chugging with renewed vigor. I had just finished the last drops by the time we made our way to the front of the line.

The man behind the counter looked at us from side to side like we were the two weirdest white people he’d ever seen.

“Passports please…” he said, taking them in his gloved hands, running them under the black light and shining them with his weird flashlight thing. He glanced up at us and to the passports again. Giving us a look that said ‘I hope I never see you weirdos again’, before handing them back. Pam giggled, patting my padded butt again and prodding me along.

There were two lines for security. Pam and I split off into each one. I placed my carry-on onto the rollers, pushing it along so it could make its way through the X-ray machine.

“Phones, keys, wallet in the bucket please!” one of the security ladies called out for probably the thousandth time that day. I fumbled with my things and placed them in the bucket, then headed over through the metal detector. Arms outstretched, but not too outstretched so as to lift my shirt and expose the waistband of my diaper.

BEEEEP! It rang.

“Go through again, sir!” a male agent said.

I turned around and made my way back through.

BEEEEP! It rang again.

“Over here, sir!” The agent called again, bringing me over to the side so he could run his detection rod over my body. He waved it over my chest, my arms, my legs, then up to my waist where my diaper was.

BEEEEP!

“Shit..” I thought.

“Do you have anything in your pockets, sir?” the man asked simply.

“I…no sir…” I grumbled. I was so fucking stupid. I had been so worried about the diaper that I didn’t even think about the fucking stainless steel cage around my cock and balls that would surely set off the detector.

“I’m going to have to pat you down, sir.” The man said. Not even waiting for my okay, just reaching between my legs to the bottom of my shorts and making his way up. He froze as soon as he made it to my waist. Checking again to make sure the padding he felt wasn’t a figment of his imagination. “Sir, can you tell me what you have on underneath your shorts?”

I was visibly sweating now, glancing around at the onlookers of my predicament.

“I…I uh…ehherm…”

“Sir!” another agent called from the conveyor belt. “Is this your bag?” Before I could say anything else the agent started unzipping it. “We found some very suspicious images on the x-ray…”

That couldn’t be right. All I had in my carry-on were some books, my Nintendo Switch, a change of clothes, and some Breathe Right strips.

But when he opened the flap my stomach fell through my pelvis.

The bag was full to the brim with diapers, bibs, a large penis pacifier, and an even bigger strapon dildo. The crowd around me gasped. I certainly didn’t pack all of that. Well…not into my carry-on anyway. They were all items Pam and I accrued over the course of our relationship. But I would never have attempted to bring them along on an airplane. So how did they get in there? Just then Pam came around behind the agent with my bag, her wicked smile told me everything I needed to know. ‘Bonafide’ she mouthed with a wink.

“2319,” the agent with the detection rod said into his walkie, “We got a 2319.”

“Sir,” said another agent behind me, grabbing me roughly by the arm, “If you wouldn’t mind coming with me for a random screening please…”

******

Two agents brought me in, rather roughly, to an interrogation room. It looked like what you would see in the movies. Just a concrete floor and walls, with nothing but a single table and some chairs.

“Listen…fellas,” I tried to say, immediately cringing at my use of the term ‘fellas’, “if you’ll just let me explain…”

“Do you have any narcotics on your person?” The agent asked. Standing over me and trying to make me feel nervous in his shadow. It was working…

“I—what? No! Absolutely not!”

“Any firearms, knives, bombs, or weapons of any kind?”

“No. No. Of course not!”

The agent looked me up and down with a gruff expression, then over to his partner, arms crossed.

“Watta ya think, Nate?”

“I think he looks like one of those.”

“Oh he DEFINITELY looks like one of those.” The man agreed.

“Wait…” I shivered, “watta you mean? I—“

“Sir, we’re gonna have to ask you to turn around and face the wall please.”

“Guys! I can explain!”

“Hands against the wall please, sir.” Nate grumbled, shoving me against the concrete with impatient force. Their hands were all over me again, patting me down with much less restraint than the others did outside. Their groping of course made their way to my diaper.

“What is this you’re wearing?” he asked.

“What is it?” the other man emphasized in a louder voice.

I choked to find the words, suddenly deeply regretting my attempt to appease my fetish, “It…it’s a..”

Nate pulled my shorts down. “It’s a diaper, Carl!”

“What the fuck?” Carl exclaimed. Standing back aghast like he’d never seen anything like it before.

“You got some kind of medical issue?” Nate asked.

“N-no sir…”

“You just one of them freaks then, huh?” Carl questioned.

“I…I dunno I–”

“Told you he was one of those.” Carl chuckled.

Nate seemed rather befuddled, but tried to remain in control of the situation. “Sir, do you have anything we should know about inside of your–uh–diaper?”

I was quivering from the humiliation and shame. But I didn’t have anything illegal on me, “No sir,” I replied, “I don’t.”

“We’re going to have to ask you to remove it for us.” Carl said.

“I, what? Why?”

“Remove the diaper, sir.” Nate repeated.

I wanted to argue, but their stern stares let me know they weren’t kidding. I sighed as I removed the tapes one by one, and let the diaper fall to the floor between my legs.

Nate peered around at my chastity cage, which, much to my chagrin, was leaking tiny strings of precum.

“What the hell is that?” he asked.

Carl chuckled again, “You got all kinds of surprises don’t you?”

I wanted to shrink into myself and die. “It…it keeps me from…cumming.” I said sheepishly. They both laughed uproariously.

“Any other ‘surprises’ we should know about?” Carl asked.

“No sir, that’s it, I swear.”

Nate shrugged, putting on his rubber gloves. “I’m sure you understand if we say we don’t believe you…” he said.

My heart raced. “What are you gonna do? Wait…please…” I tried to turn around, but Carl slammed me back against the concrete.

“Hands on the wall!!” He yelled, “Keep your legs spread! Do NOT move!”

I cowered in fear as Nate lubed up his fingers. “We’re going to have to check your rectum for narcotics…” he explained.

I tried to squirm, but Carl held me firm as Nate poked his fingers between my cheeks. Probing for my puckered hole. He roughly worked his large, fat finger into my rectum. He wasn’t nearly as gentle or loving as when Pam did it. He aggressively worked his knuckles all the way in, then wriggled it around. I let out pathetic whimpers.

“Awww! I think the little freak likes it!” Carl laughed.

“Definitely one of those…” Nate replied, burying his finger further into me, pressing down directly on my prostate. I couldn’t keep another pathetic moan from escaping my lips.

“Seems like you’ve got something there.” Carl observed.

“Something in there for sure…” Nate said, smirking and screwing his face up in concentration.

He worked his finger in and out of me, keeping the pressure downward so that it stroked my P-spot. My knees were shaking, buckling. Carl kept me upright and against the wall as Nate continued to violate me.

“Please…I don’t have anything..I…” but I couldn’t form thoughts. The pleasure mixed with pain was too immense. I arched my back, I moaned, I groaned, I tried to hold back but…

“Well look at that, Nate! You made the little guy squirt all over his diaper!”

Nate withdrew his finger from my hole, laughing and shaking his head as he pulled the gloves off. “I guess that cage doesn’t keep him from cumming after all!”

I was overcome with shame. I reached down to pick up and put on my diaper, which neither of them objected to. I cringed when I felt the huge, sticky load rub against the front of my balls and cage.

“Am I free to go?” I asked once it was all secured and my pants were pulled up.

“Not so fast…” Carl said, unzipping the fly of his TSA uniform. “You got to cum,” he explained, “I think it’s only fair that we do too. Does a little nancy-boy like you enjoy cock in his mouth too?”

I gulped. “Guys, if you’ll just let me get my wife she can explain every–”

“Why? You want her to join too?” Nate asked with a wink. His pants already down to his ankles.

“I…no sir…I–”

“Then get down on your knees, and let’s see what that mouth can do!”

*****

When I finally got out of the interrogation room and back into the lobby. I could hear Pam raising hell in the security line.

“What do you mean I can’t bring in these liquids??” she roared, louder than she ever normally would in a given situation. In her hand was another baby bottle. Not like the one from before. Closer inspection showed it was filled with a pearly white liquid. My pearly white liquid. We had been saving it up as a joke that would eventually lead to stakes for a bet. I must have put at least 20 loads of cum in that thing. We kept it in the freezer. I definitely didn’t think it would be brought today.

“What exactly is wrong with bringing a bottle of SEMEN on a plane?” Pam yelled, going full-Karen. The TSA agent in front of her was not amused. Pam smirked a bit when she saw me, then snapped back into Karen-mode. “My husband needs his protein! See? Look at his puny little arms!” She grabbed my arm and flopped it around in front of the lady’s face, who proceeded to roll her eyes.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but you can not bring a bottle of…any liquid…over the amount of 3 ounces onto the plane.” she said coolly.

“Well then I guess he’s just going to just have to drink it all right here, then!” Pam scoffed, looking back at me with a wicked grin. ‘Bonafide’ she mouthed with an expectant look. Waiting for me to crack so she could win. But she didn’t know I just sucked off two guys in the backroom, what was another couple loads of cum?

Turns out it wasn’t pleasant at all. The cum being a bit older, frozen, thawed, refrozen, and thawed again made it have a tangier, waterier taste with a nasty texture. Pam smiled triumphantly as I guzzled the bottle of jizz in front of those heading through security. I stopped to gag several times, but managed to keep it all down.

“All done!” she announced loudly once the bottle was empty. Then she patted me on the butt, handed me my carry-on that was on display earlier, and smiled sweetly at the TSA lady as we walked through the gate.

******

“So did they…violate you?” Pam asked with a wink.

My cheeks flushed as I chewed my food longer than normal to avoid having to answer.

“They did, didn’t they?” she giggled, reveling at my embarrassment. “But did you like it?”

I took another bite of burger, unable to hide my flash of a guilty smirk.

“You did! You so did! I bet you even came, didn’t you??” My immediate cringe told her everything she needed to know. “Bahahaha! You fucking loser!!” she laughed, smacking my arm playfully. “Maybe you don't need the key anymore after all, huh? You should just say I won the bet…”

I shook my head ‘no’, still chewing and smiling. “Absolutely not,” I said once my mouth was clear. I also neglected to tell her about what else I had to do for the TSA agents. She wouldn’t necessarily be surprised, but I wasn’t exactly going to volunteer that information if I wasn’t asked.

Pam screwed up her face in minor frustration. She hates losing. So this must have been agony for her that I hadn’t used the safeword yet. Surely she would be pulling out all the stops.

“Are you wet?” she finally asked. But before I could tell her ‘no’, she took my arm and stood me up out of my chair so fast that it made a loud metallic noise as it slid across the floor. People around started looking. I tried to act normal as Pam pressed the front of my crotch. “Did the wittle baby go pee pee?” she asked loudly. Lifting up my shirt to expose the waistband of my diaper so she could peek into the front of it. “Hmmm…nope. But I can see your sticky stains!!” she giggled, turning me around. “What about poo poo’s? Did you make a stinky yet?” she asked, peeking into the back. People were staring. Whispering. Even filming. I tried to laugh it off but I couldn’t keep my cheeks from reddening. Finally she sat me back down.

“I want you to piss your diaper.” she said matter-of-factly.

“I…what?”

“You heard me, hurry up and piss your diaper so I can change you before the flight. You don’t want to go all flight with a soggy diaper do you?”

I gulped. She was right. It was going to be a long flight, and there was no telling if and when I’d be able to change while I was on it.

“B-but I don’t want to right now.” I said, being a little playful and bratty.

“Part of the bet is you have to do what I say, Jim.” she said firmly. “So if you don’t piss your diaper within the next 5 minutes, I will change you right here in the middle of the food court whether you’re wet or not!”

I stared at her with my half smile. “You’re really not letting up on this are you?”

“Nope.” she said solemnly, then smirked when she couldn’t contain it anymore.

I glanced around at the other patrons. They seemed to go back to whatever it is they were doing after the whole diaper-check thing. Pam continued eating her meal, smiling at me expectantly.

I always had trouble peeing in my diaper. Especially in the sitting position. Even after how many times I’d worn them, it was hard to somewhat rewire your brain into being okay with wetting yourself in such a strange place and position. I exhaled slightly and tried to relax.

“You’re doing it, aren’t you?” Pam asked as soon as the first trickle hit the padding. How did she know? “I know because you make a certain face. I call it your ‘Pissing my Pampers’ face!” she giggled.

She took another bite of her salad without taking her eyes off me. It felt weird having someone watch me so intently while I pissed myself in the middle of dozens of people.

“All done?” she asked as soon as the trickling stopped. She really did have a read on me.

I nodded, blushing again.

She bundled up our food and tossed it in the trash can.  Rolled me my carry-on, and then took hers, checking her watch to make sure I did it in under 5 minutes. “Come on.” she said, taking me by the hand like I was a small child.

“Where are we going?”

She smiled again, wickedly, “To change your diaper, of course!”

To Be Continued Next Week!