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Cloth Diapers & Panties

For the Cloth Diaper Lovers and their Panties of choice.


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  1. Site Rules

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  2. My boyfriend, Andor (23)

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  3. Getting the smell out 1 2

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  4. Plastic Pants

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  5. Panties

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    • Its a convenience or the Pa because she had double knee replacement and can't walk very well she is in the office a day a week, but the office is 45 mins from me , so to us patients that want in home calls for our appointment, she has the authorization to spend the rest of the week making calls ,, and she is busy every day since it is a pain management office, and they are toooo cheap to buy her a company phone, so that's the way they do it. You say scam???? but its not, its a way to make it work for us and her. and they stay over loaded with patients so its helps out both her and them also..... So don't  call everything a scam till you ask the details. I was just asking for advice on a way to not have to be able to answer her call without having to remember to turn off my block all callers not in my list. Because I have to change my settings in my phone for that day, as to be able to not miss her call,, also with gas at almost $6 a gallon and on a very fixed income it saves us money not to have to drive 45 mins each way, and wait for an hr to be seen etc......
    • Little one-shot I've cooked up, inspired by seeing a couple with one leading the other by a leash IRL. Enjoy!     What is intimacy? A search of the internet provides naught but more questions. But as the collar is chained around my neck, I have to wonder: is this intimacy? “Chin up. Not too tight, is it?” Katya slid a finger under the collar, her touch uncomfortable in the moment, but not unwelcome. Apparently satisfied, she takes my hand in hers; palm sweaty, still sticky from the sunscreen she applied to my skin earlier. “Time for walkies, then!” Blazing heat complements my blushing face as Katya leads me, leash in hand, into the busy street. I knew this would be embarrassing. Of course it would be. Katya walks a pace ahead, pointing to shop windows and nature, her extroverted nature shining through as her speech flowed, not caring that I’m not contributing to the conversation. We arrive at our destination: the park. At least there’s some shade around here, but the heat is getting to me. “You okay?” Katya stops abruptly, her eyes roving my face. “Yeah. Um, I suppose.” “Hmm?” I think she knows that I’d never complain. “Let’s find somewhere cool.” We continue, finding a spot under a tree. We sit. Heat. People, heat. Noise and people and heat. The collar around my neck. Noise and people and heat and a siren. Noise and people and heat a siren heat heat the smell of melting tarmac that scratchy feeling in my throat heat heat HEAT. Sense manifested to a dizzying overload. Too much. My eyes open to Katya’s face, her features scrunched in worry, thigh a soft pillow under me, her two fingers placed on my forehead, and I realise I’m panting. “Drink.” “I’m fi--” My voice, dry, doesn’t sound like me. “Drink.” It wasn’t a suggestion but a demand, the bottle already tipped into my mouth. “You’re sweating. Good.” “Huh?” “You just have heat exhaustion.” I move to get up, but I’m stopped, a hand on my chest restricting my movement. “Stay. Still. And drink. Unless you want this to develop to a heat stroke.” Sometimes I forget Katya’s a nurse, but not today, apparently. “Sssss.” I can’t quite get out the next syllable. “Sorry.” “Don’t…” She sighs. “Don’t apologise. Just tell me next time.” “I…” Can’t express myself. “I worry about you, you know?” She strokes my head, and a lump of guilt forms in my throat. “Repeat: ‘I will let Kat know when I’m feeling sick.’” “Kat… I…” “What do good girls do when they’re given a repeat command?” Acting like an activated sleeper agent, I repeat the line. “That’s right. Who’s a good girl?” I just blush, but it’s clear she’s expecting a response. “Um, me?” “That’s right! You’re the bestest girl.” Under Katya’s watch, the heat didn’t feel so severe. That panic, that sensory overload I felt earlier, replaced with a sense of calm. She knows what she’s doing, and I trust her. I’m safe. I’m in her hands. Perhaps this is intimacy? To be worried over, and to worry. To my asexual self, intimacy never made sense; too complex an emotion and too intertwined in sexuality to be untangled. But, still, I know there’s levels of intimacy that don’t live on a sexual basis. The love for a parent to their child, between siblings, or even friends? This begs the question: what are we? Are we lovers? No, that much I know. More than friends, certainly. Home. As we cross through the wall of heat that is our flat, I get hit with a sense of dread: it’s going to be a sleepless night; no air-conditioning unit to provide relief in this damned urban heat island. I wipe the sweat from my forehead. “Arm.” Katya holds out her hand. “Huh?” “Give me your arm.” Nurses have a way of talking like that, like they expect you to read their mind. She takes my wrist, turning my arm to face palm-up, before laying a pair of fingers across the radial artery. Then, she feels my forehead with the same fingers, her expression relaxing from its worried state. “Good. You’re not going to pass out on me again. We can keep at our training, then.” Oh, good. ‘Training.’ Just the sight of the clicker is enough to send me into a blush, but it’s the children’s potty in her hands that really sends me into a hot streak. “Do we haaaaave to tonight?” I whine, feeling like I deserve a little sympathy. “Yup.” She lays the potty at my feet. “Now, you remember the rules, right?” “Yeah…” “Good girl.” That phrase still sends a shiver down my back. As I lower myself to the potty, Katya turns the television on. Distraction, that’s what this is, so that I don’t know when to expect it. What is ‘it?’ The Pavlovian response. When I hear that-- CLICK! My bladder spasms, almost immediately forcing me to void my bladder. Against the hollow-shelled plastic, it’s loud. Very loud - definitely audible from where Katya sits. The brain really is amazing, I’m forced to think, despite my embarrassment. 'Classical conditioning.' That’s the name for it. Katya had entrenched this into my psyche by just a few sessions of those ‘10 hours of silence occasionally broken up by dog clicker noises’ videos, and a few bars of chocolate. That’s it. That’s all it takes. “Who’s a good girl?” Katya kneels in front of me, her face close to mine. “Alright, here’s your treat, sweetie.” My mouth is already salivating. Pathetic, isn’t it? A couple of squares of chocolate are pushed past my lips, sating me, completing the loop. “I think we’re ready to move on to the next step, mm?” “Next step?” I’m led, wordlessly, over to the sofa, where she leaves me. Rustling from another room, a packet being ripped. “Here it is!” She reappears into my view, holding… something. It’s only as she unfolds it that I realise what it is: a nappy. “Wh--what? Is that a...” I trail off, unable to even say the word. “It’s a nappy!” She shows me the interior side of the plastic-backed disposable. “What? Lots of things make clicking noises. It’s just common sense for you to wear one of these now.” “But…” She was right, actually. Made too much sense, if anything. “But…” I repeat, unable to find an argument. “What did you think all the training was for?” “Fine.” I pout slightly, but somehow this does excite me. “Just get it over with.” “Bum up, knees to your chest.”     “So how’s it feel?” Katya asks, inquisitively staring at me. “Um.” She suggested I didn’t put my bottoms back on, given the heat, and I was all to quick to accept that, but it is quite revealing, given my new underwear. “Soft… comfy, actually.” “Hehe. I wonder if you actually like them?” A poke lands on my nappy. “Kaaat!” I complain playfully. “They’re interesting, okay?” “‘Interesting?’ What does that even mean?” “I dunno. Like, maybe it’d be fun?” “Never took you for one that’d like to pee her pants.” Katya’s grinning now, and I counter by sticking my tongue out. Might as well play along, if I’m going to be in these. Besides, being a brat is fun. “You ready for bed? Though I’m not sure either of us is gonna get any sleep tonight.” “I guess so.” Stretching, I feel the tiredness in my joints and in my mind; I hadn’t got much sleep last night, or the night before. “Different beds tonight?” “Same bed.” I feel slightly embarrassed to reveal my desire for closeness tonight. “If… if that’s okay.” “Aw. Someone feeling a little tender?” “Kinda.” A hot, sticky night followed, and in retrospect, maybe it wasn’t the right idea to sleep together. But I did eventually manage to get some sleep, and by the looks of things so did Katya, sprawled out on the bed, her limbs twisted at different angles. Sheets long since fallen to the side, I can’t help but stare at her body, beautiful in the morning light. I sit up slightly, being careful not to wake her. An unusual feeling follows, down there. Did the nappy always feel like that? As firm as it does. Raising myself slightly more, I put a hand to the front. Squishy. Did I…? No. It’s just sweat. It has to be. I haven’t wet the bed since I was 10. My thoughts are interrupted by Katya’s groan. “Hmmmornin’.” She never was good at waking up. “Morning.” Can’t let her hear the nerves in my voice. “I’m gonna get up. Go back to sleep, if you want.” I can probably change and dispose of this discreetly. “Nah. I’m gonna get up too.” Her eyes rove to my behind. “Gotta get you changed, anyway.” “What?” “You’re wet, right?” “N-no!” I’m sure my face is crimson now. “It-- It’s sweat!” She pokes at the front of my nappy with a finger. “Heh. Definitely wet. C’mon. Won’t take long.” Pulling herself to a stand, she staggers to the wardrobe, opening a drawer and withdrawing wipes, a fresh nappy and powder. So that’s where she was hiding those. “On the bed.” As I lie there, I can see eagerness in Katya. She’s been looking forward to this, hasn’t she? That weirdo. But I suppose I’m the same, really; those butterflies in my stomach aren’t from humiliation. They’re from anticipation, excitement. She comes close and those feelings intensify more, the crackle of the packet and the crinkle of the nappy sounding in my ear as if amplified. Shck. Nappy untaped, the warm air contacts my damp skin, a swamp when mixed with my sweat. Smells worse than a swamp, too, and that’s to my nose. Katya, unlike myself, doesn’t seem phased at all, calmly picking wipes out of the packet. Sharp, damp, coolness in that most intimate of areas wakes me from my groggy state - a careful, tender touch, gentle and casual. “Kat?” “What is it, babe?” “Um. Do I smell bad?” “Terrible.” She giggles. “Don’t worry, I’m used to it. A career in nursing will do that to ya.” “How did you know I was wet, anyway?” “Ahh…” A coy smile lies on her face. “Couldn’t sleep last night, so I got the clicker out. Had a little fun. Wasn’t sure it would work when you were asleep!” I’d be mad, but this is nice. Returning to the task, her smile doesn’t fade. She’s having fun with this. Powder follows, with Katya reminding me that “it’ll help with the sweat.” Particles visible in the morning sunshine, its scent hits like a nostalgic time capsule, more powerful than any drug. As she unfolds the dry nappy, I find myself smiling. She’s the only one in the world I’d let do this. That’s intimacy, sharing something so private with another. Fuck, our relationship might be weird, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. So what are we? Just two ace weirdos, trying to make the most of life. Maybe we don’t need another label.
    • @DailyDi Don't worry, those of us who's brains weren't in park totally understood your post and didn't work hard to take offense where no offence was intended or offered. Why people seem so interested in being offended I will never understand. As for your question I like my Daddy to cum different places because it reinforces my submissive feelings. For partners I will cum wherever they ask which has been a variety of places over the years.
    • My wife is supportive in that she doesn't care about my diapers. She knows it's my thing, she's tried wearing them for me on occasion, but it's just not her thing. Otherwise I'm perfectly fine lounging around in a diaper and tee shirt.
    • Thanks for the ideas on adding peas carrots to my mix guys. I did it and it's good, I just need to make a gravy that I will have to see if I can make with my gluten free flour to use on the bottom layer next time. I layered it with ground beef bottom , then peas carrots and topped it with mashed potatoes and cheese all was hot, and pre cooked, then put in the toaster oven for about 10 mins... But the bottom needs a gravy or something, and with my gluten issues, .... well I will get there I made enough for 4 servings , so I have 2 left in the freezer...
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