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Rainbow Diapers
A space where our Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Trans members can discuss related issues.
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Chapter 101 Betsy returned from the bedroom, pacifier in her mouth, standing quietly in front of us. Lena looked at her and smiled warmly. You look absolutely adorable with that pacifier, she said. Betsy giggled behind it, then climbed onto my lap, settling in comfortably. Lena took a seat beside us, and before long, the two of them were deep in conversation—talking about med school, clinical rotations, and the challenges of balancing study with self-care. I sat there in quiet amazement. Here was Betsy, dressed in a romper, diapered, pacifier in her mouth, curled up on my lap—and yet speaking with clarity and passion about her future in medicine. And Lena, without missing a beat, was engaging her like any proud mentor would. I didn’t say a word. I just listened, heart full, as the evening unfolded in its own extraordinary way. About half an hour later, Lena spotted the backgammon board sitting on the table. Her eyes lit up. Hey, Betsy—do you know how to play backgammon? Betsy gave her a mischievous look. Yes I do, she said, narrowing her eyes. But I only play for money. Lena raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. Oh really? Well, so do I. How about five cents a point? Betsy crossed her arms and smirked. I play for no less than ten cents a point. Lena laughed. Alright then. Ten cents it is. Get ready to lose all your money. I chuckled and looked at Lena. You might be biting off more than you think. Betsy’s a mean player when it comes to gambling. Lena leaned back confidently. I can handle anything she sends my way. Betsy burst out laughing, clearly enjoying the challenge. The energy in the room shifted. The games between Betsy and Lena had been intense—so much so that I half expected Betsy to bite her pacifier in half from concentration. They were both fiercely competitive, and the stakes, though small, felt high in that moment. Eventually, Lena stood up and stretched. I’ll be right back, she said. Need to check on dinner. But don’t go anywhere—I’m coming back to win some of my money back. Betsy smiled, pacifier still in place. Bring it on, she said. I’m going to take all of your money. Lena laughed and headed inside. With the two of us finally alone, I walked over and gently picked Betsy up, settling her on my lap. I slid a finger under the edge of her plastic pants and said softly, No need for a diaper change yet—you’re still dry. She nodded, relaxed. Since it was the first quiet moment we’d had since Lena arrived, I wanted to check in. Hey, I said gently, are you okay with Lena checking your diaper earlier? Betsy looked thoughtful. I was surprised at first, she admitted. Feeling her finger under my plastic pants caught me off guard. But after a bit, I was okay with it. So I don’t need to say anything to her? I asked. She shook her head. No, it’s okay if she feels the need to check my diaper. I’m not going to worry about it anymore. Well, if you are not going to worry about it, I not either. I mean she is a mom after all, and I am sure that she has done more the one diaper check in her life. Besty just starts laughing at that. As we were waiting for Lena. I had a couple of thoughts about just how far I could go with Besty feeling more comfortable with Lena, treating her as a toddler. Lena came back out onto the balcony, her eyes gleaming with determination. Alright, she said, time for one more game. I’m winning some of my money back. Betsy smiled sweetly, pacifier bobbing slightly. I don’t think so, she said with a teasing grin. They dove into the game, and once again, Betsy held her own with surprising skill. After a few intense rounds, Lena leaned back and sighed. Okay, I need a break. I can’t believe you won again. Let’s go have dinner—and we’ll start back up after we eat. Betsy giggled. Oh good. That means I get to take more of your money. With that, she hopped up from her chair and ran off toward the kitchen, clearly excited for the next phase of the evening. I gently placed a hand on Lena’s arm. Hold up a second, I said quietly, let’s give her a moment before we follow. I want to make sure she doesn’t overhear what we’re about to talk about. Lena nodded, understanding the need for a little privacy. I turned to Lena and said quietly, Betsy’s okay with you checking her diaper. She told me herself. Lena looked relieved. That’s good to know. I was worried I might’ve upset her when I did it earlier. I shook my head. You just surprised her, that’s all. But the way she said it—she’s fine with it. So, you’ve got both her and my permission to check when you think it’s needed. Lena smiled. Thanks. I promise I won’t overdo it—no checking every five minutes. I laughed. Fair enough. Then I added, I want to see how far Betsy’s comfortable going with you babying her. So just follow my lead. Lena nodded. Okay. As long as we don’t hurt her. I would never let that happen, I said firmly. If anything goes wrong, I’ll take the blame. She can be mad at me—not you. Lena gave me a thoughtful look. You really care about her. I do, I said. And I have a feeling she’ll go along with it. But again—no pushing, and no hurting. Got it, Lena said softly. With that, we stepped back inside When we got back inside, I said, Ladies, since you did all the cooking, I’ll take care of getting the food to the table. Then I turned to Lena. Would you help Betsy into her highchair? And make sure to use the strap so she doesn’t slide out. Lena nodded with a smile. Of course. She walked over to where Betsy was standing, gently picked her up, and settled her into the highchair. With practice ease, she snapped the tray into place and secured the strap. You could tell she done that once or twice in her life. I watched Betsy closely the whole time. Her expression was a mix of surprise and quiet delight—wide eyes at first, then a soft smile forming around her pacifier. She didn’t resist. In fact, she seemed to welcome the care. And in that moment, I realized something: it was going to be easier than I thought to let Lena take on more of a nurturing role with Betsy. The trust was already forming, and Betsy was responding with openness and warmth. As I brought the food to the table, I handed Lena Betsy’s bib. Would you mind putting this on her? I asked. And don’t forget to take out her pacifier. Lena nodded and turned to Betsy, who was already seated in her highchair. The moment Lena reached for the pacifier and bib, Betsy’s expression shifted—her lips tightened around the pacifier, and her eyes narrowed just a bit. She clearly wasn’t thrilled. Lena smiled gently. The bib’s just so you don’t spill anything on your nice clothes, she said, fastening it around Betsy’s neck. And besides, you look so cute with it on. Betsy let out a soft pout, crossed her arms over her chest, and muttered, Fine. I finished setting the food down and asked Lena, Would you make up a plate for Betsy while I grab drinks for us? Of course, Lena said, already scooping generous portions onto a small plate. As I walked back to the table with our drinks, Betsy took her first bite of the meatloaf. Her eyes went wide with surprise. She looked at Lena and said, This is good. I mean really good. In fact… it’s better than what my mom makes. And her meatloaf is to die for! Lena beamed. Well, that’s the best compliment I’ve had in a long time. Betsy smiled, her earlier pout forgotten, happily munching on her dinner. As Lena and I chatted, I kept one eye on Betsy. Then I saw it—that subtle shift in her expression. I knew that look. Her I’m about to pee face. I gave Lena a quiet signal to watch her for a moment. Sure enough, Betsy relaxed in her seat, her eyes drifting slightly as she let go. Lena noticed too, and smiled gently. How cute, she whispered, more to herself than anyone else. Once Betsy was done, I glanced down and noticed the diaper was a little more visible through the leg holes of her romper. It was a small detail, but it reminded me just how comfortable she was becoming in this space—with Lena, with me, and with herself. After dinner, we lingered at the table for a bit, chatting and enjoying the easy rhythm of the evening. Eventually, I said, Let’s move this out to the balcony—it’s too nice of a day to stay inside. Both Lena and Betsy agreed. I’ll take care of clearing the table and starting the dishwasher, I said. Lena, would you mind wiping Betsy’s face and hands before you head out? Sure, I can do that, Lena replied. She gently cleaned Betsy’s face and hands with a warm cloth, then scooped her up with ease. As she held her, Lena slipped a finger under the edge of Betsy’s plastic pants and gave a quick check. She’s wet, Lena announced with a smile, but the diaper will hold another wetting. No need to change her just yet. Then she chuckled. She’s just like my granddaughter. Every time she eats, she pees in her diaper—just like Betsy. Betsy looked up, surprised. You have a granddaughter? You’re too young to be a grandma! Lena laughed. Thank you, Betsy. But believe me, I’m not too young. And like I said, she’s a lot like you. One of her talents is being a little peeing machine. Betsy blushed and buried her face in Lena’s neck, clearly a bit embarrassed but also comforted by the affection. As Lena started to carry Betsy out to the balcony, I called out, Hold on a second. I walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out the bottle of chocolate milk I’d prepared earlier. Can you take this with you? I asked Lena. Just set it on the table—I’ll come out and give Betsy her nightly bottle once I finish cleaning up. Lena took the bottle with a smile. Of course. That’s a little different from my granddaughter, though—she still gets her milk by breastfeeding. But I think you might be just a bit too old for that, she added with a playful wink toward Betsy. Betsy’s cheeks flushed pink, and she tucked her face into Lena’s shoulder again, clearly a little embarrassed that Lena now knew she drank from a baby bottle. Lena didn’t tease further. She simply held Betsy close and said warmly, We’ll be waiting for you outside. As they stepped onto the balcony, I watched the way Betsy nestled into Lena’s arms—shy, but not resistant. When I finished cleaning up the kitchen, I walk out to the balcony and got my own surprise and it stop me in my tracks. -
By little_madd · Posted
Before being lifted up, Maddison reflected on everything that had happened and how foolish she had been to get involved in this game; however, she had given her word to behave and stick to the rules. She also heard a quiet threat that if she didn't behave, she would never go to college again—giving Maddison a reason to stay calm. When the car door opened, Maddison saw the car seat; she was surprised, though not entirely. As she was placed inside and the seatbelt was fastened, her diaper was left slightly exposed, forcing her to take a deep breath—but something else was bothering her more: the pressure on her bladder. -
By soggypobby · Posted
Just wanted to quickly introduce myself. I'm a 50 year old guy in the UK who has worn nappies most of his life for various reasons. I don't just wet but also enjoy messing from time to time, especially when adult life stresses become too much......guess it's a therapy and/coping behaviour. Anyway, that's me and I look forward to chatting to others. -
Going on 5:30 in the morning and I haven't been to sleep yet. Just not happening tonight. -
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Misha Charoudin. He was actually being interviewed in another youtube channel, but I can’t remember which one. It was about his last 24 hour Nurburgring race. Maybe I’ll feature Sally into a similar scene 😉
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