The rest of the week was pretty much the same. I kept trying to hold myself back from using my diapers, but I eventually learned how pointless that was.
I never really got used to them. I did appreciate the warmth that wetting myself delivered, but then I remembered that I had just wet myself. Sometimes my mother would be out of the house, and I'd have to wait out of fear of being caught changing myself. One time she was out the house all day and I had to wait for hours in a full diaper after I'd used it 3 times. Twice for pee, once for poop. I never really forgave her for that.
Pooping was always something I dreaded. I tried desperately to hold it back for as long as possible, but that only resulted in the mess being about 10 times worse. Once I even messed my diaper in bed. That was a rough night.
I woke up on the last day dry, but desperate to pee, and I was so excited when I was told that my punishment was over. She unlocked the door, I took my diaper completely off and I entered the bathroom for the first time in a week. It felt so good to use the toilet again. To hear and see my pee hit the water. I was so happy I hugged my mum and promised I would always lift the seat and never pee on it again.
She was happy to hear that, but told me that if I ever did I would have to do this punishment all over again. And I only ever did once (but that's a story for another day). I should really thank my mother. I know that if I didn't do this punishment I would never have learned to lift the seat, which I know my (now) girlfriend would hate me for. I am so grateful for that week, and I highly encourage other parents to start doing the same.