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Rainbow Diapers
A space where our Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Trans members can discuss related issues.
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By rusty pins · Posted
You could have let her finish, then looked down at your pants and said, "True." -
I had it done about 40 yrs ago, I wasn't in diapers then, I wish I was.. I don't even remember if they put a bandage on me, I was just told not to do any heavy lifting for a period of time weeks . But I just had to do lifting very careful etc. They did make a very small cut, after shaving my bag etc... If you don't have any problems letting the Dr know you wear diapers then war them maybe wet a little so its believable , and ask but bring a spare diaper...Just say you haven't told any Drs yet and it's a dribbling issue? he will make o note or not? Who knows what they make notes of.... I do understand I am twice your age but I wish I had been braver at your age and just told Drs etc... -
As time went on, life with the three of us settled into a comfortable routine. Whenever Lena was babysitting Besty, things ran smoothly, and by the time I got home from school, I always knew what to expect. Besty would either be dressed in a diaper with a onesie, or—if the weather was warm—she’d be wearing just her diaper. Lena put me in charge of a few responsibilities whenever she was around, and over time they became part of our routine. It was always my job to get Besty settled into her high chair for dinner. I’d make sure her bib was fastened properly and that she was comfortable before Lena brought the food to the table. Sometimes Besty would fuss a little, wondering why she needed the bib or the high chair, but once the meal was served, she quickly forgot about it, digging in with her usual enthusiasm. Later in the evening, when bath time rolled around, my role shifted. I was responsible for helping Besty out of her diaper and carrying her to the bathroom. She had grown so used to the routine that she hardly noticed anymore, climbing onto the changing table without hesitation and letting me get her ready. Once she was undressed, I’d scoop her up and bring her to the tub, where Lena was already waiting to fill it with warm water. These tasks might have seemed small, but they gave me a sense of responsibility and connection. Lena trusted me to handle the practical steps, while she took care of the rest. Together, we made sure Besty’s evenings were smooth, predictable, and filled with care. This is how most evenings went when Lena was babysitting Besty. As soon as Besty got home from school, Lena would guide her straight to the changing table. She gently undressed her from her school clothes, folding them neatly to the side, and helped her climb up onto the table. Besty knew the routine well—after school always meant a nap, and before her nap she needed to be diapered. Lena was careful and thorough. She would prepare a thick daytime diaper, sometimes layering it with one of her granddaughter’s diapers for extra absorbency. Before fastening it, she made sure to apply enough diaper rash ointment and baby powder to keep Besty’s skin comfortable and protected. Once the diaper was pinned securely, Lena added a pair of plastic pants to cover it. She always checked the leg openings, running her fingers around them to ensure all of the cloth was tucked inside so there would be no leaks. When she was satisfied, Lena helped Besty down from the table. Together they walked over to the crib, and with Lena’s steady hand, Besty climbed in and settled down. Within minutes, the familiar routine and Lena’s gentle care made it easy for her to drift off into her afternoon nap. After about forty‑five minutes, Besty usually stirred awake from her nap. She would call out softly for Lena, her voice carrying just enough to be heard through the quiet of the house. Lena would walk in with a warm smile, finding Besty sitting patiently in her crib, waiting to be let out, dressed only in her diaper. Even though Lena already knew the diaper was wet, she kept to her routine. She leaned down, slipped two fingers under the edge of the plastic pants, and checked the dampness. With a gentle, almost playful tone she announced, you’ve wet your diaper again during your nap. Besty always smiled at that, as if it were part of their familiar ritual. Before lifting her out, Lena reached for Besty’s pacifier from the nearby table. She placed it gently in Besty’s mouth, smoothing her hair back with one hand, then helped her climb down from the crib. Besty clung to Lena’s arm for balance, her pacifier bobbing slightly as she moved. The whole process had a rhythm—Lena’s smile, the quick check, the pacifier, and the steady hand guiding Besty out. It was calm, practiced, and reassuring, a routine that made Besty feel safe and cared for every single time. Lena led Besty to the changing table. Before Besty hopped up, Lena slipped off her plastic pants and set them aside. Once Besty was settled, she lay back calmly, already familiar with the routine. Lena unfastened the diaper pins and lowered the front of the diaper between Besty’s legs. Besty, so used to this ritual, automatically reached behind her knees and pulled them up toward her boobs. Lena appreciated that small gesture—it made the process easier and quicker. Instead of having to hold Besty up with her ankles, she could focus on cleaning her thoroughly and with less effort. When Lena finished wiping Besty’s bottom, Besty lowered her legs and opened them slightly, giving Lena room to clean her front. With the wiping part of the diaper change finished, Lena moved on to the next step. She carefully spread diaper rash ointment over the areas that girls need protection, making sure Besty’s skin was fully covered. Then she sprinkled baby powder lightly, the familiar scent filling the air as she worked. Once that was done, the rest of the process was quick and efficient. Lena pulled the diaper up into place, secured it neatly with the pins, and smoothed it out to make sure it fit comfortably. In just a few practiced motions, the change was complete. As Lena was pulling up Besty’s plastic pants, she asked with a gentle smile, do you want a top to cover your boobs? Besty laughed at the question and teased, Lena, do you have time to look closely? I think you need glasses—do you see how big my boobs are? They aren’t going to get any bigger, she added with a touch of sadness in her voice. Then, shrugging it off, she said, for tonight, just a diaper is good enough. Lena chuckled softly and replied, alright then, just a diaper it is. She finished by handing Besty her pacifier, completing the familiar ritual. With that, they left the room together—Besty heading to the table to start on her homework, pacifier still in place, while Lena moved into the kitchen to begin preparing dinner. When I got home from school, the first thing I always did was give Lena a hug. It was our daily ritual, a simple way of reconnecting before the evening began. I quickly learned it was a waste of time asking her what was for dinner—she never gave away the menu, no matter how many times I tried. Most evenings I found Besty out on the balcony, bent over her schoolwork with the late afternoon light spilling across the pages. The moment I saw her, I would scoop her up into a hug, holding her close before setting her back down again. That hug had become second nature, a way of showing her I was glad to be home. Afterward, I would slip two fingers under the edge of her plastic pants to check if she was wet. I had been doing it for so long that Besty hardly seemed to notice anymore; it didn’t even register in her mind that I was checking her diaper. More often than not, she was dry, and I would smile, relieved that there was no need for a change right away. I would sit down next to Besty and begin working on my own schoolwork. Compared to hers, mine always felt straightforward—I could usually finish everything in about forty‑five minutes. Besty’s assignments, on the other hand, stretched on for hours. It often took her close to three hours to get through all of it. Watching her work so diligently made me realize why. When you’re aiming to become a doctor, every detail matters, and the workload is heavier. My studies seemed simple in comparison, more like drawing lines on a page, while hers demanded focus, precision, and long hours of effort. Even so, there was a quiet comfort in sitting side by side, each of us absorbed in our own tasks, After about an hour, Lena would come to get us for dinner. She always asked me to help by settling Besty into her high chair and fastening a bib around her neck. Dinner was a family affair, simple but comforting, and Lena made sure everything was ready before we sat down together. Once the meal was finished, it became my chore to clean Besty up—wiping her face and hands, removing her bib, and letting her out of the chair so she could return to her schoolwork. Lena and I would linger at the table afterward, talking about life, sharing stories, or just enjoying the quiet moments together. Besty, meanwhile, would settle back into her books. It usually took her about an hour to finish her assignments, her determination clear as she worked through each page. When Besty finished her schoolwork, she would come to find us, and without hesitation climb up onto Lena’s lap. She always seemed to enjoy those quiet moments, resting there while Lena held her close. After about fifteen minutes, Lena would gently ask, “Are you ready for your bath? Besty always answered with a cheerful yes, as if the question was part of their nightly ritual. With that, Lena would turn to me and say, Take Besty back to the changing table and get her undressed for her bath. Most nights, it didn’t take long at all—since the only thing she usually had on was her diaper, getting her ready was quick and simple. I would carefully remove the diaper, fold it neatly, and place it into the diaper pail. Besty would lie quietly, waiting with her thumb in her mouth, knowing the routine by heart. Once she was undressed, I would help her down from the table and guide her toward the bathroom, her small hand tucked into mine. Before we headed in, I would place a pacifier gently into her mouth. It was a small comfort, something she enjoyed during bath time, helping her relax as she settled into the warm water The routine flowed smoothly, each step familiar: the gentle question, my part in helping Besty prepare for her bath. The next part of the evening routine was for me to take Besty to the bathtub. Lena was already there, seated in the warm water and waiting for me to bring Besty in. I gently lifted Besty and set her down into the tub. As soon as she settled, Besty would scoot back until her head rested comfortably against Lena’s boobs. With her pacifier still in place, she would close her eyes, letting the warmth of the water surround her. The gentle sound of splashing and the steady rhythm of Lena’s breathing made the moment feel calm and safe. The next thing I did was grab two towels and a nighttime diaper for Besty, placing them in the dryer so they would be warm and soft when she came out of the bath. I waited until Lena called for me, letting me know it was time to bring them in. When I stepped into the bathroom, the air was filled with steam and the gentle scent of soap. Lena was still in the tub, standing in the warm water, while Besty sat happily splashing near her. It had become part of our routine that before Lena stepped out, I would help by drying her off. At first, I had been nervous about taking on that responsibility, unsure of how to manage it, but over time it became second nature. Now, I simply reached for the warm towel, wrapping it around Lena’s shoulders and arms, making sure she was comfortable before she stepped out. Besty watched quietly, pacifier in her mouth, waiting for her turn. Once I finished drying Lena off, she would take over and do the same for Besty, wrapping her in the warm towel with gentle care. In the meantime, I would collect the freshly warmed diaper from the dryer and head to the changing table, laying everything out neatly so it was ready. After just a couple of minutes, Lena and Besty would walk in together. By now we had done this so often that Lena was nude when she came to the changing table. Lena would lift Besty onto the table, guiding her into place with practiced ease, and begin getting her ready for bed. The routine was smooth and familiar, each of us knowing our part without needing to say much. You could always tell how much Besty enjoyed this moment—every time the warm diaper was fastened snugly around her, she would smile behind her pacifier, her eyes soft with contentment. Once Lena had Besty in her diaper, she told her, Go finish your schoolwork, and when you’re done, I’ll give you your bottle. With her pacifier still tucked in her mouth, Besty nodded and headed off to her desk, determined to finish her assignments. Lena then turned to me and said she would be right back, explaining that she needed to put on her robe. A few minutes later she returned, slipping into a short silk robe. To me, it hardly seemed like much of a cover—it was sheer and delicate, more decorative than practical—but Lena wore it with confidence, and I suppose that was what mattered most. While Besty was busy with her schoolwork, I spent time in our office working on my house designs. That extra hour each evening gave me a chance to focus, and I always appreciated how much progress I could make in that quiet stretch of time. When Besty was close to finishing, she would let Lena know. Lena would then head to the kitchen to prepare her bottle Once the bottle was warmed, Lena would go to where Besty was working and sit down beside her. Besty, sensing that her schoolwork was nearly finished, would close her books and walk over to Lena, climbing onto her lap with practiced ease. Lena would gently remove the pacifier and guide the bottle to her mouth, and Besty would latch on right away, drinking slowly and contentedly. Most of the time while she is having her bottle, she would wet her diaper and every once in a while, she would poop in it. Lena would always check her diaper after she was done and told me what kind of diaper change was coming. Well, when she poop in her diaper, I knew what kind of a change was coming, because of the smell in the room. This part of the evening always carried a special calm. Besty would relax completely in Lena’s arms, her eyes half‑closed as she enjoyed the warmth and comfort of the bottle. Lena often rocked her gently or hummed under her breath, creating a soothing rhythm that filled the room. When Besty finished her bottle, I carried her back to the changing table and let Lena change her out of her wet or messy diaper and into her nighttime diaper. With that done, Besty was ready for bed. Together, we walked Lena to the front door to say goodnight. Before leaving, Lena bent down to give Besty a hug. As she embraced her, she gave a gentle pat on the diaper and teased, try to keep it dry tonight. Besty looked up at her with a playful grin and replied, “If I haven’t been able to keep a diaper dry in nineteen years, I don’t think it’s going to happen tonight. Lena laughed softly, smiling at the familiar exchange. You’re probably right, she said warmly. With that, she slipped on her coat, gave us both one last smile, and headed back to her apartment. -
By rusty pins · Posted
Yeah, but super heroes are the only people who openly wear their underwear on the outside of their pants! -
Thanks Eddie, the tests went well, no issues found. Follow-up appointment next week to discuss next steps.
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