'Diapered', Snippet One

Merry Christmas.

*****

Diapered

Copyright 2018

by Chris Bellows

It Begins With a Party - David

As a shy 30 year old bachelor, the internet has come to greatly bolster my social life... to be more aptly described as my sex life I suppose.

More and more often after a grueling high pressure day in business, I find my fingers typing, my mouse clicking, signing onto various dating and social websites. Curiously, the genre of the selected sites seems to get kinkier and more risque every week... particularly on Saturdays when there is time to explore for newer and different groups, blogs, and message boards.

So I read a lot, bashfully type a message here and there, learn of the many facets of interaction between men and women. But no real time contact... no dates... no informal rendevous. As stated I am shy, even in college limiting contact with the opposite sex... my engineering degree requiring much study when not working part time.

Guess one would say I am socially stunted. Thus in the privacy of my den study, the anonymity of the internet can embolden... even doing so to the point that I find myself diving into this site cultivating CFNM... the quirky world of gatherings for clothed females - naked males.

The more I read... the more I learn... the more something within becomes intrigued.      

What is it that attracts?

I am not an exhibitionist. I am physically in shape... a little running... visits to the gym when possible. But nothing to bring undue pride... no notions of ‘hey girls, look at this’. No, as I self analyze, it seems the subtle power exchange brings arousal. Everything to be bared, women to gaze at all without compunction. And yes, on some lonely nights, the hormonal relief of masturbation is abetted by fantasies... and such are visions of being commanded to disrobe and socialize in a room of fully clothed amused women.

Week after week, the internet interludes become longer... deeper in peeling the onion so to speak of this growing... seemingly growing... form of social interaction.

The pinnacle comes when I find and join a message board which is more than just an exchange of thoughts and messages. These people actually meet once or twice per month! And they’re based in Hamilton, a town some fifty miles away.

I become a moth about the candle, the location far enough away such that my real name will not be known... face not to be recognized... no one will know me... yet close enough to drive without burden. 

Yes, I become known as ‘Erecting Dave’, my online appellation alluding to my employment in designing and engineering industrial structures.

So I communicate, responding to posts, many of which include photos... faces blurred... from the latest munch or cocktail party... slowly mustering the fortitude to attend.

Yes, slowly, for as stated I am shy, and the rules of the gatherings are strict. The clothing of male attendees is collected and locked away upon entry to the home, club or catering hall of the party. Women are in charge, to be obeyed. Any touching is one dimensional... males to be freely examined... females discouraged from permitting reciprocation. And in reading of the various contests, my breathing becomes labored with an odd combination of disbelief, denial that such excites, and a yearning to attend and observe.

But to do so requires fortitude which I have not. Males are stripped! There are no casual male observers. At the Hamilton soirees, one is either humbly naked or a fully clothed empowered woman.   
    
Finally, just as this moth tires of winging about the candle, the Hamilton group organizes a Halloween gathering. Males will have covering! Masked in a hood. Such added anonymity further emboldens, any photos neglectfully posted without the photo shopped blur will remain innocuous.

Dare I attend?