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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 Kitty Angel · Posted
11. My Rest Day When I woke up on Saturday morning I was rushing to get ready again. I didn’t need to hurry breakfast to make sure that Tess was ready for school, and I wasn’t going to be at work this weekend, but that didn’t mean much today. I realised as soon as I woke that I hadn’t asked Tess what time she was planning to get up, and I saw it as my duty to make breakfast for my little one whatever time she expected it. She might have kept her alarm clock set to the same time as on school days, so that she would have a regular diurnal rhythm; or she might have decided that it would be better to sleep in. I could have made a guess, but I wanted to be ready for her in either case. This morning, I couldn’t decide what to wear. That wasn’t usual for me. I had smarter clothes for work, and clothes that showed off my figure for when I was spending time with my girlfriend. Then things that were purely for comfort, the outfits I wore if I was lazing around the house on my own for any length of time. I didn’t wear those often, because Ffrances was rarely unavailable for a whole day now, but I still found a reason to dress like I was still a university student occasionally. This morning, I wasn’t sure what would be appropriate. I’d been dressed up in semi-formal gear when I met Tess and her parents, and then I’d been working every day. I didn’t know if she would be too shocked if she saw me suddenly change style. I shrugged, and dressed for comfort. A little ironically, perhaps. I still had a three wolf moon tee, bought a couple of years after the meme had run its course. Something that Ffrances would find funny if I didn’t find time to change into something a little more exciting before she came around. And then I stopped, realising that my normally-impeccable planning had let me down today. I hadn’t talked to Tess. Well, I’d talked to her a lot. The night before, I’d pushed her to try wine again, casually mentioning that if she was really as mature as she thought she wouldn’t have any problem with it. She’d only had one glass this time, maybe two more after I’d topped it up each time she wasn’t paying attention, but she had shown that she trusted me. And this time, there hadn’t been any kind of secret ingredients. No sleeping pills, no diuretics, just wine as it came out of the bottle. And I hadn’t put the pills into her bedtime flask either, so I was pretty confident she wouldn’t have wet the bed again. Perhaps that would help to make her less reluctant to drink; I needed to make sure she wasn’t associating her accidents with drinking wine, because that would just make it harder for her to relax. We’d spoken, sure. We’d chatted about all kinds of things over a couple of bottles, which I was confident I’d drunk about half of. We’d talked about her parents, and the problems she’d been having about school. About her friends, and when she might be able to invite them to visit. I’d asked again about her boyfriend, but she had been too embarrassed to say anything and had quickly changed the subject. There was someone, I was sure; and I think I might have started to understand why parents can be so protective of their little girls. It made my blood boil to think of someone taking advantage of a child so sweet and innocent. But she couldn’t tell me yet; I would still have to work on letting her trust me more. We’d talked about all kinds of things last night, and earlier in the day as well. What I hadn’t done was talk about my own girlfriend. It would have been the perfect moment to mention it after she explained her relationship status, if her answer hadn’t been a desperate attempt to talk about something completely unrelated. So she didn’t know about Ffrances, and probably had no idea that there was going to be someone else in the house today. How would I bring it up? I didn’t know, but I needed to make sure that I wasn’t taking the little one completely by surprise. I wanted her to feel comfortable, and I wanted her to feel like I’d checked this was okay with her first. We were housemates, after all, until she decided she was ready to show me her little side. When I got down to the kitchen, there was no sign of my cousin. That didn’t surprise me. At her age, I didn’t think there was much chance of her being a naturally early riser. But I needed to be ready, just in case. I set about washing the dishes from last night, and thought about what I was going to be cooking today. The menu I’d drawn up said we might have kedgeree for lunch, but the miso baked cod last night had been too good to keep to myself. The recipe had been in some magazine, where the picture had caught my eye. I’d decided to try it on Friday after weeks of putting it off, but now I wanted to introduce Ffrances to our latest culinary discovery. I checked the fridge, and it looked like we had enough fish to make either option. Maybe I should give my girlfriend the choice; or perhaps it might be better to put it to a vote. I wanted Tess to feel like she was a part of the family, after all. But the most important question was whether she would be happy about my girlfriend coming to stay. If that eroded her trust then I really didn’t know what I would be able to say to reassure her. I didn’t need to worry for long. I got my phone out and browsed the news apps again, catching up on everything that was happening in the world. And when the algorithm decided it was time to show me stories about what diet some muscle bound celeb was on, I thought that meant it was time to do something else. I started browsing fiction instead; there were surprisingly many accounts on the internet of a loving mommy proving to a reluctant sister, cousin, student, daughter, or friend how good it would feel to be her little. Many of them weren’t particularly realistic; they assumed that making a girl wet the bed would immediately put her in a little headspace, and then she would graduate to using baby talk after just a few repetitions. I had no reason to believe something like that, and I’d clearly seen that it didn’t work like that twice already. But over all of the factual inaccuracies, there were still wholesome stories here. I could read them and look forward to the day Tess could act like that with me. I almost read a whole story, and then I heard footsteps above me. I paced back to the stairs and ascended slowly. I saw the bathroom door click closed, and a faint squeak of metal on metal as she locked it. I didn’t want to disturb her then; I poked my head into the nursery instead. The duvet was tangled on the floor, the blinds open, and the room slightly less tidy than the last time I had seen it. In all, it looked like any other child’s room. There was no puddle on the bed today, in any case, so my guess had been correct. Then I went back downstairs, and turned on the stove. I could probably have waited for Tess and asked if she was ready to get up. But now she was actually awake, I figured that the smoky smell of bacon cooking would be the best way to pose that question. 12. My Baby’s Plans Tess came downstairs looking a little tired still, but she was smiling. I started to wonder if she wasn’t sleeping well. She had certainly seemed happier when she’d had something to help her sleep, and I wondered if it was worth bringing that up with her. She needed to be properly rested if she hoped to do well at school, and it seemed she had only managed to get a good night’s sleep twice since she moved in. Maybe I should have given her half of one of those sleeping pills again; but I knew that overusing them wouldn’t be good for her health in the long term. Besides, I didn’t want her to be all embarrassed the first time she met Ffrances. I was already serving up a plate of bacon, eggs, fried bread, and mushrooms. A solid breakfast, to get both of us in a good mood ready for today. I quickly asked if she wanted the one I was putting out now; I hadn’t asked yet if she liked mushrooms, but if not I could have served up another plate for her and kept that one for myself. She nodded and smiled, so I turned back to the grill while she started to eat. “Did you sleep well?” I asked. “Not too bad. Took me a while to get to sleep, but I’m ready to face the day.” “That’s good. I’m happy you’re settling in so well.” I had my breakfast on a plate now, and walked over to the table. I still needed to tell her about Ffrances, but I figured it would be easier waiting until we were both sitting down. However, I was still squeezing ketchup onto my breakfast when she said something I hadn’t even thought about. “I’ll be going to Ashfields today.” “Ashfields?” I answered, before I’d really had time to think about what she had said. There were three towns sharing the name in this area, but I guessed pretty quickly that she would mean Greater Ashfields. Still, I was momentarily drawing a blank on what could have caused this sudden change of plans. “Something with school?” “No, just meeting up with friends. Is that a problem? Mum and Dad never complained.” “No, no problem. Just…” I took a second to collect my thoughts, and to swallow a piece of fried bread folded around a piece of scrambled egg. “I should have said earlier, really. You haven’t had a chance to meet Ffrances yet. My girlfriend, I mean. She’s going to be here pretty regularly, but she hasn’t been over recently because she’s been working late. I mean–” “Well, I already said I’d be going, but…” “No, don’t worry about it. We’ll still be here when you get back. I just wanted to make sure. You know, that you’re not too shocked to find out it’s not just the two of us. I think none of us mentioned like, relationship status before you got here. I was a little nervous you might be mad that I didn’t say.” She carried on eating. We were both silent for a while, but she was still smiling and I thought that had to be a good sign. Then as she picked up a paper towel and dabbed a spot of stray sauce off her cheek, I wondered if she would say anything else before she left. Or if she would need money for the bus, or for entertainment. We hadn’t discussed an allowance yet, and I didn’t know if she would have enough cash on hand for a day out with her friends. “Yeah, don’t worry about it,” she said. “I’ll meet her later, right? And if she makes you smile so much, I’m sure we’ll get on fine. I’ll do my best not to embarrass you.” “Great, thanks. And I should ask… these friends you’re meeting…” “Kim, Chloe, and Annette,” she said. “Mum and Dad know them, if you want to know they’re not going to cause any problems. Just window shopping, spending some time together. It’s harder to see anyone now, they all live between Raybridge and Ashfields, so it’s not like two minutes walk anymore. I’m still getting used to being so far away.” “It’s okay,” I said. “No boys, then?” I could tell from her expression and sudden silence that she’d been lying then, so I felt I needed to comfort her. “I don’t have a problem with that. A mixed group of friends doesn’t necessarily mean you’ll be getting into trouble, or at least it didn’t when I was your age. But not mentioning him makes me worry a little. I’d like to think you can trust me. So, is there any reason you might lie to me?” “No! No, I just… I don’t know, he’s not normally with us. Spike’s his name. He said he’ll buy me lunch, and he wants to spend more time together now he can’t come round to hang out when his folks are being too loud. And I just… I don’t know if that’s like…” “Is he your boyfriend?” “No! I haven’t got…” “Then, is he asking you out? Doing something with friends doesn’t sound like it means anything, unless everyone else has a date. But does he know that? I can see why you might be a little nervous. Perhaps you need to be a little more forward. Or get one of your friends to let him know where he stands. You don’t want boys to be getting the wrong idea, I know a lot of them find it really easy to assume they’ve been promised something.” “No, Spike’s not like that. He’s just being a good friend.” “But you’re still embarrassed. Maybe somebody else might take it the wrong way. Maybe he’s got friends you don’t get on so well with. Or maybe you’re wishing he would be a little more forward. Okay, I get that. I’m sure you know how to talk to your friends, whatever the situation is, and that isn’t my business until you say so. Just know that if you ever need advice, I’ve probably been through this stuff years ago. And I’m always here to listen, right?” This time, Tess’s response was only an embarrassed nod. I wanted to know what was going on, and I wanted to make life easier for my little one. But for now, I had to admit that she wouldn’t tell me unless she wanted to. And I could probably trust her to make her own decisions. “I wasn’t going to ask who’s going to be there,” I explained. “I couldn’t help worrying when you seemed so embarrassed to tell me. But please, be honest with me. It’ll be so much easier if I know what’s going on in your life, so I can help when you need it and let you get on with things without worrying if that’s the most helpful response. But today, I was just gong to ask if you need any help with a day trip. Like, do you want a lift into town? If you’d rather get the bus, do you have enough money? Do you need money for lunch, or do you want to take a packed lunch? I want to be sure you’re not struggling.” She paused before responding, giving me enough time to finish off my own breakfast. Then I sat with my elbows on the table, slowly sipping the mug of coffee in my hands. “You sound like my mum,” she said in the end. “Always wants to help out. But I don’t need micromanaging, I’ve got enough money left for the bus. They left me a little bit. Thanks.” “If you think you’re good, I’ll take your word for it. Call me any time if you have problems.” Then she was rushing off to get dressed up before the day ahead. I assumed she would be going soon, so I would probably have half an hour to wait before Ffrances arrived. Well, that was a perfect excuse to make sure that I looked my best, and all the dishes were washed properly. I loaded the plates and pans into the sink and ran some hot, soapy water, and then headed upstairs myself. -
By diaperlover_dk · Posted
What, if any, medical/white diapers resembles or have a baby/ABDL look in your opinion? ABDL diapers are getting more and more expensive, so I was thinking about buying some medical diapers that have an ABDL look. Obviously, it will not have any print - but some medical diapers certainly look more medical than others. Can't seem to find any, but maybe I am missing something. -
Today I wore my grey diaper to the office. No one around me – not the people I passed in the hallway, not my coworkers – had any idea what was under my clothes. It felt so surreal. Every time I stood close to someone, my heart started racing. I was so afraid of being found out, like if they noticed the bulge around my crotch. Then, at my desk, I let go of the morning pee I’d been holding all night. I was terrified, but at the same time, it felt so good. I love that warm feeling in my crotch – like my own body heat wrapping around me. Honestly, after I finished peeing, I even got hard. I feel like the grey color makes it more discreet, especially for going to work. Being able to wet my diaper at my desk makes the whole day feel less dull and exhausting. I hope I can get more natural and confident wearing in more and more situations. -
Thank you everyone for the comments. It feels amazing that the story is being read so much. The reasons behind Anna's and the other characters' behavior will be revealed later. At this point, I want to keep the reader a little uncertain, just like Sara is uncertain. As for pubic hair, everyone is free to imagine it however they want. It's not that important to me, and I haven't really thought about it at all. I will try to continue the story again as soon as possible. I'm really enjoying writing this at the moment. -
Those pee dreams get rarer but never completely disappear. Perhaps this is a reflection of the fact that my nappies are psychologically important to me. Perhaps it’s a sign that I over-think things. Perhaps it’s drinking too much before bedtime. There I was asleep-but-somehow-awake on a beach which was somehow a bed. Instead of a sheet beneath me, compacted smooth beach sand formed a flat and reasonably comfortable mattress. The faint white noise of the surf was probably real. The wind was blowing from the North East that night and accordingly, the surf could be heard from the open sliding door to the patio beside our bed. When the wind blows from the North East or South East, we hear can hear the surf from bed. But back to the dream. As I lay there, perfectly relaxed, I realised that very slowly, the tide was coming in: potentially inconvenient. I wasn’t seeing any wave action reaching my “sand bed”. I wasn’t seeing anything. It was dark and I had my eyes shut. Heralding the eventual arrival of briny inevitability was that I could feel the sand beneath my bum slowly becoming damper. Strangely this progressive saturation seemed to have bypassed my feet and legs only to make itself gently known at my bum. As I felt the “wet line” slowly creep upwards across my buttocks I wondered briefly as to how the sheets and blanket above me would fare. Why I’d taken a top-sheet and blanket to cover me as I slept on the sand by the ocean was just another one of those dream mysteries. In any case, in my mind, the growing wet spot was not in any way MY fault, blame the tides! My bum was getting wet because of a gravitational inevitability imposed by celestial mechanics. That’s one hell of an excuse for wetting a bed. My upper sheet and blanket felt just fine and dry however and so I forgot about the potential problem. I recalled all this the next morning. It was Sunday at around 6am and I’d been woken by my beloved hauling herself out of bed for one of those intensely annoying pre-rise-and-shine calls of nature. I became aware that for me, nature had already called. That’s not unusual these strange days. I could feel that my nappy featured a wet bum as you’d expect after a wine-infused night and in stark contrast to my beloved, I didn’t need to pee at all. I had absolutely no recollection of peeing at any point during the night. I’d evidently slept right through but I could clearly remember that “sand is getting wet beneath me” dream. The overwhelming likelihood that this was my brain attempting to rationalise why my bum was getting wet during the night as I peed in my sleep. The odd things about this pee dream was that there was really no “peeing” aspect to it at all. I don’t remember any kind of signal from my bladder at all or anything about peeing at all in that dream, just the distinct sensation of a creeping wet warmth appearing beneath me. It seems quite unpredictable. Sometimes, peeing seems to require an enormous effort and is accompanied by thunderous bladder spasms. At these times it seems impossible that anything less than studied concentration could provide relief. At other times, I just get wet with apparently very little heraldic sensation. Later that morning my beloved complained that her Sunday morning lie-in had been cancelled by her un-cooperative bladder. “No such problem for me!” I replied cheerfully, still sitting in my suitably-squishy night nappy with my morning coffee. “My bladder ran on automatic all night. I can’t recall peeing at all but clearly I did anyway.” Top tip: This is a great way to kill a marital breakfast conversation.
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