Rainbow Diapers

I got all four of mine pulled under anesthetic - I was around 40 - my wife was there to drive me home. I was out of it for a day, but then nothing that Excedrin couldn't handle.

Chapter 120 Ahh, yeah, there is, Lena said, her voice carrying a hint of hesitation. Three nights ago, I was thinking about taking a long, hot bath in your tub. But it was getting late, and in about forty‑five minutes I had to give Besty her bath and get her into her nighttime diaper. I leaned forward, curious, and interrupted gently. So, I take it she was okay with you bathing her? Lena smiled faintly, recalling the moment. The first time Besty was a little shy, almost hiding behind her hands. But after that, she relaxed and actually enjoyed it. I turned to Besty, who sat quietly nearby. She gave a small, deliberate nod, her eyes shining with agreement. I settled back in my chair, letting the warmth of the moment sink in. Alright, I said with a grin, go on with the story. I stepped into the room and asked Betsy how much longer she needed to finish her schoolwork. She looked up from her desk and said it would take about an hour. I nodded and replied, “That sounds good. When you’re done, come find me. I’ll run you a bath, get you into a fresh diaper, and then we’ll settle in for bedtime. I returned to the bathroom and arranged scented candles around the tub, lighting them one by one until the room glowed with a gentle warmth. A generous pour of bubble bath sent fragrant foam swirling across the water’s surface, transforming the space into a private spa—calm, inviting, serene. When the water reached the perfect warmth, I undressed and I slipped in, leaned back, and let the soothing atmosphere embrace me. For the first ten minutes, everything was pure bliss. I closed my eyes and let the warmth of the water seep deep into my muscles, each breath carrying the faint perfume of the candles that drifted lazily through the air. Their flames flickered gently, casting soft shadows across the tiled walls, while the quiet crackle of the wicks and the rhythmic slosh of bubbles created a cocoon of calm around me. Then, a sound broke the silence—a floorboard groaning under weight. My eyes flew open, and there was Betsy, framed in the doorway, her curious gaze fixed on me. The sudden intrusion startled me, pulling me out of my tranquil haze. I asked what she wanted, and she replied, almost matter-of-factly, that she had finished her college assignments and was ready for her bath. I looked at the diaper that she had on and could tell that it was wet. As I lay there thinking how my spa day is now over because I needed to get Besty her bath, an idea came to me. I stepped out of the tub, steam rising gently from the warm water, and called Betsy over. She approached, her footsteps soft against the tiled floor, and stood patiently in front of me. I lowered her plastic pants carefully to the floor, folding them aside so they wouldn’t get wet. Then, I unfastened the diaper pins one by one, the small metallic clicks echoing faintly in the quiet room. The diaper slipped down and landed softly at her feet. With everything set aside, I guided her toward the tub, checking the water with my hand to be sure it was still at a comfortable temperature. She eased herself in, the water rippling around her as she settled. I asked Betsy to scoot up a little, and she shifted to make space. Once she had moved, I began to step back into the tub beside her. She looked up at me with a surprised expression, her eyes wide and questioning. I reassured her gently, telling her that we were both going to enjoy the warm bath together. She didn’t respond, but her silence carried a calm acceptance as the water rippled softly around us. I placed the plastic pillow against the back of the tub and leaned into it, letting the warmth surround me. It felt wonderful to simply relax there. I asked Betsy to scoot back so she could lean against me, and she did, with her head settling comfortably between my boobs. From time to time, I turned the faucet to let in more hot water, keeping the bath warm and soothing. After about fifteen minutes, Betsy sighed contentedly and said how nice it was, adding that she would gladly do this again. She explained that sharing the bath helped ease the stress she carried from medical school, and I could see the tension leaving her as she spoke. About fifteen minutes later, I told Betsy that I hated to bring our little spa session to a close, but it was time to move on with the evening routine. I explained that she needed to be bathed, dressed in her nighttime diaper, and given her bottle before settling into the crib for a full night’s rest. Tomorrow will be another demanding day at medical school, and she will need her energy. As I spoke, the warm water still rippled gently around us, and the faint scent of soap lingered in the air. Betsy agreed softly, though the tone of her voice carried a hint of reluctance, as if she wished the comfort of the moment could last just a little longer. As I sat there, I drifted back to the time I spent at a luxurious spa. I had treated myself to a full day of relaxation, and from the very beginning it felt extraordinary. The first part of the experience was a bath, where two attendants gently bathed me. They moved with care and patience, taking their time so that every motion felt deliberate and soothing. The warmth of the water wrapped around me, and their calm rhythm was so relaxing that I nearly drifted off to sleep before the bath was finished. When they helped me out of the tub, I was greeted with heated towels that were unbelievably soft. The attendants wrapped me in them and slowly dried me off, the warmth sinking into my skin and melting away the last traces of tension. I remember being amazed at how luxurious those towels felt — almost cloud‑like in their softness. By the time they had finished, I was certain that every ounce of stress I had carried in with me had been washed away, leaving me completely renewed. As I sat there, the memory of that luxurious spa lingered in my mind. I thought to myself, you know what—why not try to recreate that same experience for Betsy? It might not be exactly the same as the professional spa I once enjoyed, but I could do my best to bring her that same sense of comfort and relaxation. The idea of transforming our simple bath into something more soothing and indulgent felt exciting, and I was determined to make it special for her. With that thought, I knew exactly what I needed to do. I asked Betsy to scoot forward a little, explaining that I had to grab a couple of things. Once she shifted, I stepped out of the tub, water streaming down my skin and leaving a trail of droplets across the hallway floor. I didn’t mind the mess—I could mop it up later. As I rounded the corner, I paused for a moment, suddenly aware that in my rush I had forgotten I was completely naked. The hallway window loomed ahead, its glass faintly glowing from the evening light outside. For a brief second, I hesitated, considering the possibility of being seen. Then I shook my head and muttered to myself, to hell with it—if someone sees me, so be it. With that, I continued on. When I reached the kitchen, I went straight to the drawer, pulling it open with purpose. Inside, neatly folded, were two brand‑new hand towels. I lifted them out, immediately struck by their texture.  They were thick, plush, and soft—remarkably similar to the wash cloths the attendants had used on me at the spa. Just holding them brought back the memory of that luxurious day, the way the warmth had melted away every ounce of stress. I smiled to myself, knowing these towels would be perfect for recreating that same sense of comfort for Betsy. As I headed back past the window, I thought to myself, well, if somebody did see me, I hope they were fine with catching a glimpse of a forty‑two‑year‑old woman in the nude. The thought made me smile. On the way back to the bathroom, another idea came to me for making the night special for Betsy. I went and grabbed one of her nighttime diapers and brought it into the laundry room. I tossed her nighttime diaper into the dryer and then I gathered a couple of the softest towels I could find and tossed them into the dryer. I imagined how much she would enjoy wrapping herself in warm, freshly heated towels, just like at the spa. I had never tried warming them before but tonight felt like the perfect time to test it out. I just thought that she might like a warm diaper tonight. I have never warmed a diaper up before for her. When I finely made it back to the bathroom, Besty was lying against the back of the tub with her eye closed. You could tell that she was enjoying the warm water. I asked her to scoot up a bit so that I could sit behind her. After she scooted up a bit to give me some room I got into the tub and sat down The memory of that spa day drifts back to me like warm steam rising from the water. The attendants moved with quiet harmony, their hands gliding across my skin in slow, deliberate strokes. Warm water trickled down my shoulders, carrying the faint fragrance of jasmine and eucalyptus. One attendant traced soothing circles across my back, while the other’s touch lingered at my breasts, each motion balanced and rhythmic, as if choreographed. As they worked downward, the sensation shifted — the gentle pressure of their palms, the silky slide of soap, the cool rinse that followed. When they reached my feet, each cradled one in their hands, washing with care before pressing into the arches. The massage sent ripples of release through me, a pulse of comfort that seemed to dissolve every ache. Time blurred; the bath stretched into a timeless cocoon of warmth and touch. When it ended, I felt impossibly clean, as though the world itself had been rinsed away. Later, I imagined bathing Besty. I pictured the water cascading over her shoulders, the way her skin would glisten beneath the light. Since I couldn’t reach her front and back at once, I planned to begin with her back, letting the lather spread across her spine, tracing downward to her waist. When those areas were fresh and renewed, I would ask her to stand, so the ritual could continue — water flowing, touch lingering, each moment unfolding with patient rhythm. When I asked if she was ready, she answered softly, yes. As soon as I began, I could tell she was enjoying the bath. Soft ahhs slipped from her lips as I washed her back and bottom, each sound carrying a note of relief. At one point she murmured that it felt like heaven, and I couldn’t help but laugh gently at her delight. Once I was sure everything above her waist was fresh and clean, I asked her to stand. Warm water streamed down her body as I moved to her back, washing down her bottom, Making sure I did a good job with getting between her cheeks and finish of with her legs. When that was done, I asked her to turn around so I could wash her front, letting the lather glide over her skin in patient rhythm. When I got to the point that her crotch was next to be washed, I asked her to spread her legs a little so that I could clean that area. I could tell that she was a little shy about doing that for me. Honey, I said there is no reason for you to be shy with me, because how many times in the past week have, I wiped your crotch during a diaper change? She just looked at me and slowly spread her legs so that I could wash her. The ritual ended with her lifting each foot in turn. I washed them with care, letting the water glide over her skin, then pressed into the arches with a massage that sent waves of comfort through her body. Each touch seemed to dissolve tension, leaving only ease behind. By the time we finished, the moment felt complete. I asked her to slowly turn in a full circle, the light catching on droplets that shimmered across her skin. With patient strokes I made sure every part of her was cleansed, until she stood renewed, her body glowing with the calm purity of being completely clean. I asked her to remain standing, promising I would return in a moment. Stepping out of the bath, warmth still clinging to me, I walked to the laundry room and pulled two towels fresh from the dryer. They radiated heat, soft and comforting, and I knew she would love the feeling of being dried with them. As I carried the towels back toward the bathroom, I noticed the trail of water dripping from me, scattering across the hallway floor. Each drop shimmered under the light, marking my path — a lingering echo of the bath beyond its walls. When I stepped inside, Besty was still standing in the tub, her face lit with a wide smile. She told me it was the most wonderful bath she had ever experienced, unlike anything before. Her voice carried both surprise and delight as she asked if we could do it again. I laughed softly and promised we could make it a weekly ritual. Now, I said gently, let’s get you out of the tub so I can dry you off. The warmth of the towels in my hands seemed to anticipate the comfort that awaited her. As soon as I wrapped the towel around her and began drying her off, she laughed in surprise. You’ve got to be kidding — you even warmed the towel! she said, and I smiled, replying, “Nothing but the best for you. Her laughter filled the room, light and genuine. Once she was dry, I took a moment to dry myself as well. With that done I said let’s go and get you up on the change table and into your night-time diaper and then we can go out to the balcony, and I will feed you a night time baby bottle of breast milk. "Because tomorrow’s early class will be here before you know it," I continued, the memory bringing a quiet stillness to the deck. "The warmth of the towel lingered, a gentle reminder of the care and calm that carried us into the night. As I was getting her diaper on her, she looked up at me, completely surprised, and said, 'You've got to be kidding me! You even warmed my diaper in the dryer?' I just smiled down at her and went, 'Nothing but the best for you. Do you like it?' Betsy grinned from ear to ear and said it was absolutely wonderful.   "She snuggled her lower half right down into the thick cotton diaper, letting out a soft, completely content sigh as the toasty fabric met her bare skin," I added, a gentle warmth filling her voice.  "She told me that the cozy, radiating heat felt like a warm hug wrapping all the way around her bottom. She happily pulled her knees up just a bit higher, completely sinking into the heavy padding as I pinned the sides, totally fascinated by how incredibly soothing it felt compared to a cold diaper first thing in the morning. Warming it up in the dryer turned her spa night into something great.   "After she was securely placed into her thick nighttime diaper, I told her to head straight out to the balcony to catch the evening breeze while I went into the kitchen to prepare a warm bottle for her.   "Once I had the baby bottle perfectly prepped, I walked out onto the balcony, took a seat in the comfortable chair, and had Betsy sit right on my lap. It was right then that I suddenly remembered I hadn't put on any clothes after our earlier routine, and I was still completely naked. I thought to myself, 'Well, it's way too late to worry about that now,' so I just kept her close, letting Betsy lean her head back comfortably against my boobs while I gently fed her the bottle of breast milk. The peaceful sounds of the evening surrounded us, and I thoroughly enjoyed the quiet, comforting feeling of her face resting right against my boobs while she drank. I was enjoying having her head resting on my boobs. It was a perfectly relaxed, tranquil moment for our close circle, leaving my mind completely grounded and at ease as she finished her milk and drifted toward sleep."

Emily was silent, at first she didn't care about the story but as she listened she actually could understand, some of it she could actually relate too, as she been doing this daycare thing for a while going to different daycares, outside of her hometown if she had a business trip and just needed to unwind. Just recently she started going to the daycare in her hometown, being small had its advantages people tended to look over you or ignore you she knew she was being risky but she had fun memories going to that daycare when she really was a child, when she was bullied because of her problems and because of her short stature being practically the size of a 7-year-old wasn't exactly a fun time especially in her teenage years, her parents either out of embarrassment or concern had her homeschooled till 17 before she went to college for a business degree. Then it was focusing on work and then after parents died focusing on business, going from one place to the next, talking to shareholders attending online meetings and loads and loads of paperwork and spreadsheets.

I was a sysadmin for a chem lab info system running HP 1000 (yes, this was quite a few years ago.) The guy I replaced told me that he'd set it up to run backups automatically each night. I poked around and found that this was not the case, so I went ahead and set up a backup procedure. About that time the server started making noises like it was going to go down. I made a SOS call to HP in San Francisco; he flew in on Saturday, helped me get all the info onto tapes, and replaced the part on the server that was going bad. (This is kinda vague, I know - it was a lot of years ago.) I got yelled at for an unauthorized expenditure, but pointed out that I'd saved the system from being down for some unknown number of days.  And the experience definitely taught me to be on top of everything about that system. The backups were on these large tape drives, and HP had an interesting way to feed tapes into a drive; it would start the tape slowly, then blow on it from either side until it fed correctly into the drive. That was how the backups could be automatic. Thanks for that useful bit of info!

What, you have an "off day" yesterday??? Didn't have to "go" (sorry....just used to seeing your post every single day...figured you were blocked up a bit LOL)