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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 Huggies wearer · Posted
I woke up a little while ago in a fairly wet Luvs size 7 pro level leak protection. It can handle another good wetting before I slip into a fresh Huggies size 7 snug and dry for the day. -
By LittleFallenPrincess · Posted
Book 3: Bargaining Chapter 1: Goodbye Tales of the Sanctuary: Book 3 - Bargaining – LittleFallenPrincess “I’m sorry, we’ve done everything we can.” Please no. “There is nothing else left for us to try.” No. I can’t handle this. “It’s all about making her comfortable during the time she’s got left.” I could feel my emotions about to burst from within, I could feel the tears just waiting for the go ahead, I just wanted to scream. This can’t be happening to me. She was supposed to get better. She can’t die. Not now. She’s my Mum. She’s supposed to live until she’s old. She’s my hero. She can’t let this illness win. “Mr Maddox, are you okay?” I needed to at least reply to the Doctor. He had tried everything he could to help her fight this. But he’s out of options. It’s not his fault. Plus you need answers. “How long?” I asked. “Sorry?” “How long does she have left?” “Six months at most. But if it gets more aggressive… two to three months most likely. I’m sorry.” “Thanks. I…” “We can help with her pain, and try to make the last stage as comfortable as possible for her.” Comfortable. Yeah… because dying should be comfortable. No, death is a bastard who rips good people way too early and leaves the worst behind to lead long, happy lives. Death can go suck a dick. My Mum is a saint, always putting others before herself… and here she is, suffering in a hospital bed, with no hope of ever getting better. She is going to suffer and die over the next few months, all because the universe is an unfair shitshow. If I could, I’d trade places with her. But I know she’d never allow that, even if it was possible. She’d do anything to protect me. And I want to do the same for her, but there’s literally nothing I can do. I’m just supposed to sit and watch her slowly die over the next few months, feeling helpless. We already had to sit through months of her going through chemotherapy, losing her hair, getting worse and worse… until she got this latest update. I want to scream. I want to throw things. I want to let out all this anger at the world for how unfair and cruel it is. But I’m in a hospital. I can’t do that. I have to behave. I especially can’t lose my temper around my Mum. I have to put on a brave face for her. “Thanks, Doctor.” “Son, it’s going to be difficult, but you’ll get through this.” Don’t call me son. I’m not your son. I’m my Mum’s. My Dad is a dick who ran away half way across the globe when I was younger, leaving Mum and I alone. You’re just a fucking Doctor I’ve seen a handful of times and I… …I need to calm down. Process this. And I definitely need to keep all my thoughts in my head, because I could lash out at someone and I really don’t want to do that. I’m very shy and reserved, but I’m worried this will push me over the edge and say something I’ll regret. No Charlie… just take a deep breath. So I did exactly that, before replying to the Doctor, “Thanks. Is she okay to go in and talk to now?” “She’ll be fine. And you can take her home in about a week. I think she wished to return home as soon as possible. We’ll discuss this more later.” “Hi Mum…” “So the Doctor told you?” she said, laying in her hospital bed with drips and everything plugged into her. I have no idea what half of the stuff is, but if it means I get more time with her, then I don’t need to know. “Yeah.” “I know it’s scary. But it’ll be okay. I’ll try and stick around for as long as possible. We’ll fight this. And you never know… maybe we’ll get a miracle!” Mum was always so optimistic. Despite everything that had happened to her. Meeting my Dad, getting pregnant at a relatively early age, Dad fucking off to the other side of the world and leaving her to raise her son on her own, losing her parents just before I was born, having to work an exhausting job just to keep a roof over our heads and put food in my tummy. And now she’s suffering… and still hoping for a miracle. Because miracles grow on trees. Because they happen to every good person… right? I don’t want to start an argument with her again over religion, but I gave up hope of there ever being a higher power years ago, back in my childhood. Because if there was a higher power… people like my Mum wouldn’t be suffering. And now look at her, dying. I was right, there is no higher power. But no, I let her believe, it gives her comfort, and I don’t want to be a dick to her when we just got the worst news possible. “Maybe.” “It’s okay, Charlie. You don’t have to believe. I’ll believe enough for the two of us. Trust me, I see a bright future for us both. Now, come give your Mum a hug!” I moped my way over to my Mum’s hospital bed, as she shuffled over, saving some space for me to sit with her. And as I sat down, she put her arm around me like she always does when she’s trying to comfort me. I should be comforting her, not the other way around… “I love you, Mum.” “I love you too, Charlie. Look, it’s the start of a new decade. Which means it’ll be a new start for us. I bet the 90s are even more fun than the 80s!” “Doubt it.” The 80s sucked. The 90s didn’t look like they’d get any better. Here I was, 25 years old, unemployed because I was caring for my Mum all the time, and an absolute mess of a person. I barely knew who I was, what I wanted to be… and I just felt like a massive failure… like I was disappointing my Mum. I graduated school but never went to university or anything, instead just lazing about the house… then taking care of her when she got sick. The only thing I’ve got going is my youthful appearance, and my blue eyes and blonde hair like my Mum’s, which I get a lot of compliments about. But they don’t pay the bills. And now I’m going to feel especially bad after what she’s about to say… in 3… 2… 1… “Maybe this decade you’ll meet a lovely girl so I can get some grandkids!” There it is. Like clockwork. She’s always loved the idea of being a grandmother. But how do I tell her that I’m rubbish at dating? And then there's the problem with her only having a few months to live, which she insists won’t be an issue. “Maybe, Mum. So the Doctor said you’ll be allowed home in a week or so. I’ve been keeping the house clean and I’ve made sure not to let Ms Mittens into your bedroom.” Ms Mittens is our cat, who I love to bits. We’ve had her since she was a tiny kitten. But she leaves fur everywhere, and we can’t have that in Mum’s room because of her health, so Ms Mittens is only allowed short, supervised visits into her room. “Good boy. Don’t worry, this week will pass quickly and we’ll go home. Then you can give me a proper cuddle.” “Sounds perfect, Mam. Is there anything else you need from home? I think I brought everything…” “You did, don’t worry. Stop worrying so much about me, precious boy. I’ll be fine. I wish you’d go out more, start living life.” “I will eventually, Mum. Right now I’m happy taking care of you.” I sat with my Mum on her hospital bed, spending as much time with her as possible, reading magazines and newspapers with her, gossiping about movies and celebrities because she loves it, until it was finally time to leave as visitors hours were over. “I’ll be back tomorrow. I love you.” “Love you too, baby boy. Get going, and make sure you get something nice for tea.” “I will. Make sure you get plenty of rest.” She smiled at me in that way she always does… and it broke my heart that I had only a limited number of those left to experience. “Mr Maddox?” A female voice called out from behind me as I walked down the hospital corridor towards the exit. “Huh?” I replied awkwardly, turning around to see the most beautiful Doctor I had ever seen. No… wait… beautiful person. Holy shit. This woman was a goddess. Golden hair flowing perfectly down her shoulders, round glasses that framed her face perfectly, gorgeous golden eyes behind the lenses. If it wasn’t for her lab coat and stethoscope, I would’ve thought this woman was a model and not a medical professional. And because of this, I could feel myself return to my shy, meek persona I had around every beautiful woman. “Charles Maddox? That’s you, right? Son of Dawn Maddox?” she spoke with a perfect Queen’s English accent. Every word was enunciated perfectly. So what’s she doing slumming it in a city like ours? “Yeah? Did I forget something? Is she okay?” I asked, nervously. “She’s fine. Hi, I’m Dr…” she paused for a moment, looking me up and down, as if judging me or inspecting me. Which made me worry maybe she thought I stole something or maybe she just looked down on working class people… “Dr Haf.” “Haf?” “Yes, but with a long ‘a’.” Weird name, but okay. “I’m doing some research on some forms of cancer, and one of them is the one your mother is suffering from. I heard they have exhausted all possibilities?” “Yeah, they said she can go home in about a week, then she’s got two to six months left, depending on how lucky she is.” “Look, I don’t want to get your hopes up… but what if I told you we may have a possible cure.” “I’d tell you you’re probably some hack pretending to be a Doctor, trying to scam me,” I replied, raising my eyebrow at her. “I promise you, I am not scamming you. I am not lying when I tell you I may be able to cure her.” “Then go on…” “What if we could cure your Mother’s cancer completely, allowing her to lead a normal healthy life?” “I’d say why aren’t you doing this already? Why wasn’t it suggested to the Doctor she’s currently seeing?” I responded, in a rather combative manner “It’s… experimental.” “And you want her to be a guinea pig.” “No, actually. That’s why I’m talking to you. We need you to be the guinea pig.” “Me?” “Come, let’s find a quiet place to talk. The corridors feel a bit… open.” I nodded and followed this Doctor… and I could stupidly feel my hopes beginning to build up again. “So why do I need to be the guinea pig?” I asked. “We’ve developed a cure, but it uses specific genetic cells from an immediate family member. Obviously this has to be a blood relative, ideally a parent or a child of the person. Which makes you ideal.” “And what will these cells do?” “They’ll create the cure for her cancer. Completely. We’ve seen a hundred percent success rate on mice.” “Mice? So no human tests?” “That’s why I’m discussing this with you… because there are drawbacks.” I knew it. There’s always a price. “By taking these cells from you, you will lose a large portion of your life.” “How large is your definition of large?” “We don’t know. It could be ten, twenty, thirty years?” “So I’d only live until I’m middle aged?” “You’ll still get to live a long, healthy life. As will your mother.” “It’s funny… because I knew if I was ever offered something as ridiculous as this, like if the devil had come up to strike me a deal in return for my soul or whatever… my Mum would forbid it.” “You are your own man, Mr Maddox. It is your decision. If you wish we didn’t tell your mother about the… side effects… of this procedure, we will keep it a secret. And I promise you, I’m not ‘the devil’ trying to take your soul. We just need the cells, which will in turn cause you to lose a portion of your life.” What the fuck do I do? Obviously I want to say yes. Getting to live until I’m 40 or 50… or even 60… that’s fine. I don’t need a massively long life. Especially if it means I’ve got my Mum around for it. Sure, it only leaves me with fifteen years minimum… but that’s more than my Mum has, by a lot. And it’s not like I’m doing anything with my life. I have no hopes, no dreams… I barely even know who I am these days. Even if this is a trick or a scam… what have I got to lose at this point? “If I said yes…” “Then we’d schedule extraction straight away. The sooner we get it going, the better. If your mother’s cancer spreads… it may be a bit too late.” ===================================================== If you want to read a month in advance (that's 8 chapters), or just want to support me and my writing, you can do so through Subscribestar! Subscribers get 4 weeks (8 chapters) early access to chapters, and exclusive short stories (Nessa's Tale is currently the only available one). ======================================================== I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! Please leave likes and comments and all that fun stuff, I love reading them! If you want four weeks early access to my main story and also soon-to-be exclusive access to short stories, why don't you check out my SubscribeStar? Thank you to all my subscribers for their support over the past few years! Seriously, your support means the world to me. New chapters of my latest story every Wednesday/Sunday! Also just a quick note: I don't mind people saving this story for personal reading. But I'd appreciate it if people didn't post it elsewhere, even if you're just suggesting it to other people. If you want to show others, please send them a link to the first page of this post. And it goes without saying, my story is not to be used in any way to create AI work. Thanks! -
By wetdiaper55 · Posted
I really like the story , and the image . Is there more to the story . -
Yes, you could say that. Yachts are a great place to socialize. She will only be "busy" in NYC and Miami. After that, she has proper holidays - yes, the whole month of August. -
By kintalbaby · Posted
Hi Just to introduce myself. I'm an English nappy lover. I wore terry nappies and plastic pants and, after 'using' them, when I was about 8 yrs old, I've loved them ever since. The pants were called 'rubbers' by most mums in England. I used to love seeing them hanging on washing lines and dreamed of being put back into them. I also like plastic-backed disposables. Nice to meet you all. I like stories involving nappies and spankings. Kintal Baby
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