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Rainbow Diapers
A space where our Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Trans members can discuss related issues.
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Another great chapter. First of all: I knew it! 🤣😎 I really like Chana. It's good to see she doesn't see him as helpless baby anymore. I just hope it is at least partially due to his actions and not the recent revelation of his scroll and then the reading. I really like the Kang descriptions through Adam's eyes and how complex he really is. And then there was the conversation with Boja. As i said in the beginning. I expected the snake topic. But i really didn't expect the rest of the conversation. It showcases, how much Boja really isn't "just an AI". It was really strong moment there with the confrontation. I love these moments in this story. -
Just wanted to find out from people how soon after you poop in your diaper do you change it? I have urinary urg incontinence.but it’s hard for me to hold in in the morning so I just make my first big large well formed, but not messy turd in my diaper. Usually, I’ll make another turd a couple hours later or maybe 30 to 45 minutes later. Same being well formed and not messy the turd itself. So I usually just lie back down in the bed after I have made the first time in my diaper and relax or I’ll get up and wash dishes or vacuum. Do some work in the basement shop. And when I make a second time, I usually will change within an hour or so . Because usually I’m standing up and washing dishes, vacuuming, doing some cleaning, and the turd is technically in the back part of the diaper, so it’s not really making a lot of contact with my skin as it sits pretty safely contained in the diaper. Even when I’m lying down the turds in a safe position I usually don’t sit down on a chair or the couch after I’ve made a turd in my diaper, sometimes I do only for a short time, though, as it makes more content with the skin then, but I usually go for about 2 1/2 hours when I finished making a second time before I change my diaper in the morning and in the evening I don’t really get a problem with diaper rash or skin irritation as I use a good cream, but I don’t really feel uncomfortable having the need to change my diaper when I first make a big morning turd in the diaper for a large turd in the evening -
Another great chapter. Title had me a little worried especially given the previous chapter ending and the focus on it in the beginning. Interesting scene showcasing, how really small and helpless Carly currently is. I am looking forward to follow through on the threat from this chapter and next betting event on spicy food. Carly beats someone who is betting against her and wins something. Than Beth or someone else comes in. "You have won again congrats! Now crawl!". 🤣 I am glad Fred is officially okay and out of hospital. And then the ending! I am really looking forward for the next chapter. I was really curious about that for the longest time, but sometimes i was almost wondering if i didn't hallucinate it. It was never acknowledged in the comments (which i get ... no spoilers), but than i couldn't even properly find any mentions of it in a story. Only 2 vague instances i believe. I really hope we will finally find out more. As for the possible missing of the week. Don't worry about it. I have waited almost 4 years for that answer from this post. One or more weeks won't be a problem.
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This club needs a new manager. If you want to take it over please send me a message! -
Wow, lot of comments, I love them. I believe I can fulfill a large part of your wishes CHAPTER 9 Sara and Anna made love that evening. It was gentle, respectful, and at times a little clumsy—but it didn't matter at all. Sara had never been with a woman before, but with Anna, everything felt completely natural. They touched and kissed each other's bodies for a long time; the other's skin felt like the most beautiful thing in the world. Sara loved Anna's hair, her neck, her breasts. She loved Anna's fingers in her hair and her strong arms around her. Everything felt so right—for that night, everything that had happened before was wiped from the girl's mind. They weren't in any hurry, but eventually, both of their hands found their way to each other's most intimate places. Anna teased Sara by touching her inner thighs for a long time; the girl was already soaking wet when Anna finally let her hand glide to Sara's clitoris. Anna was skilled with her hands. She caressed Sara with calm, steady movements, gradually increasing the pace. Sara came quickly and intensely—she had never felt so aroused in her life. "Keep going, please," Sara cried out as the orgasm shook her body. Anna was more than happy to continue. It felt incredible to bring her partner into such a state. A second orgasm followed soon after, then a third, during which Sara soaked the bed beneath her. At that point, Anna gave her a moment to breathe and gently pulled her into her arms. She stroked Sara’s hair for a while, letting her come back down to herself. As soon as Sara’s pulse had settled, she wanted to hear Anna moan with pleasure in return. She kissed her slowly, slid her hand between Anna’s legs, and began to move her fingers uncertainly at first. It was all new to her, a little awkward, but Anna guided her gently, showing her what kind of touch she liked best. Where Sara had come quickly and intensely, Anna needed more time, more stimulation. When her orgasm finally came, it was long and deep, filled with waves of pleasure that broke through her body in pulses. Sara watched her, mesmerized, as Anna’s face shifted with sensation. She felt a quiet pride—she had given Anna that. They didn’t speak afterward. They just smiled softly at each other, humming under their breath. They lay together, spooned beneath the blanket, as the hypnotic rhythm of the rain lulled them into sleep. ******* Sara woke to cool air and birdsong sometime in the early morning hours. Anna lay beside her, one arm resting lightly across Sara’s waist, her hair tangled, her lips slightly parted. Sara watched her for a long time. She wanted to memorize this moment—the scent of old wood, the freshness after the rain, the warmth of Anna’s body. Carefully, she lifted Anna’s arm and sat up. Anna murmured in her sleep and turned onto her side, but didn’t wake. Sara slipped quietly out of bed and pulled on the dress from the night before, which felt slightly clammy against her skin. Then she opened the shed door as silently as she could, stepped outside, and crossed the yard on tiptoe toward the house. The front door was open; from the hallway she saw the clock read 3:30. She made her way to her room, hung the damp dress on a hanger to dry, changed into her nightclothes, and lay down to sleep a little longer. ***** Sara woke again to sounds drifting up from the kitchen and got out of bed immediately. This time, Anna didn’t come to put a diaper on her; Sara went downstairs in shorts and a T-shirt. Her feelings were mixed—the memory of the night still pulsed through her body, but at the same time she was anxious about Liisa’s reaction to her outfit at the party. She descended the stairs and stepped into the kitchen through the living room; the smell of fresh coffee reached all the way to the staircase. At first glance, everything looked normal. Liisa stood at the stove making pancakes, Joppe sat at the table with a newspaper, and Anna sat in her usual place, eating rye bread and smiling at Sara. Her smile was different now—still gentle, still warm, but with something new in it. When their eyes met, Sara felt heat rise to her cheeks. “Good morning,” Anna said softly. “Morning,” Sara replied, sitting down a little closer to her than usual. Liisa stacked the pancakes on a large plate and brought syrup, jam, and fresh strawberries to the table. The sweet smell made Sara’s mouth water; she had missed dinner the night before for reasons that needed no explanation. “Looks good,” Sara said, grateful, taking two pancakes and pouring syrup over them. Liisa nodded briefly but said nothing. Breakfast was quieter than usual. Joppe flipped through his paper, Anna and Sara exchanged glances, their feet brushing under the table. Sara wondered whether Anna had slept in the shed all night and whether her parents suspected anything about what had happened after the party. The tension in the room slowly built until Liisa set her fork down. “Sara.” Sara looked up. Liisa paused for a moment, choosing her words. “You had quite an outfit on yesterday.” Silence settled over the table again. Joppe pretended to focus on the sports section, but he was clearly listening. “It was a beautiful dress,” Sara said carefully. “It was,” Liisa admitted. “But not appropriate. Not for a gathering like that. And certainly not for someone your age.” Sara felt her cheeks flush. There was something sharp and disapproving in Liisa’s tone that irritated her. She had learned to obey without argument, but this time she chose to stand her ground. “What do you mean?” “You know exactly what I mean,” Liisa replied. “It was too short, too tight, and it showed far too much. This is our farm. We have certain standards here.” Sara didn’t answer. She held Liisa’s gaze, almost as if giving her one last chance to take it back. But Liisa didn’t. “It wasn’t appropriate. And I’m disappointed you didn’t wear the dress Anna chose for you.” Anna moved. She straightened her back, lowered her shoulders, and turned toward Liisa. “Mom—” “Anna,” Liisa cut in, turning to her. “This doesn’t concern you.” “Yes, it does,” Anna said calmly. “Sara is an adult. She can decide what she wears.” “Not in this house,” Liisa replied slowly, almost theatrically, as if refusing to understand. An uneasy silence followed. “We’ll talk about this later,” Liisa concluded, draining the rest of her coffee in one swallow. Sara was about to speak, but under the table Anna’s hand found hers and squeezed gently. Sara understood and stayed quiet. Joppe set his newspaper aside. “We should start getting ready,” he said, standing up. “It’s a long drive, and nobody likes being late.” Liisa nodded, glanced at the clock, and began clearing the table without looking at Sara. Once the kitchen was tidied, she and Joppe went to their bedroom to get ready. Anna would be coming along too—some of the documents for the land deal were in English, and Anna handled those situations for the family. As she was about to head upstairs, Anna leaned down close to Sara. “This will pass,” she whispered. “I promise.” She glanced toward her parents’ bedroom, then smiled playfully and pressed a quick kiss to Sara’s lips. Sara felt a spark run through her veins—she wanted more. ****** “Take care of the farm,” Joppe said, patting Sara encouragingly on the shoulder. “Let the cows out in an hour. Make sure they all have water, and don’t forget to close the gates properly.” “You’ll be fine,” Anna added softly. “You’ve learned so quickly.” Sara nodded. “I’ll manage.” Liisa, Joppe, and Anna said their goodbyes and stepped out into the windy yard. The women wore long summer dresses that moved lightly in the breeze. Joppe had on a button-up shirt and cotton trousers, a worn black leather briefcase in his hand. Liisa carried a small handbag, adjusting its strap before getting into the car. The doors closed one by one. The engine started, and a moment later the black Saab rolled onto the gravel road. Dust rose behind it as it disappeared between the trees. Sara went back inside. The house suddenly felt very quiet. **** Sara had meant to go straight outside, pull on her boots, and start working, but something unspoken guided her toward the stairs instead of the front door. The weather was cloudy and windy, and in the dim daylight the staircase seemed faintly eerie, but Sara forced those childish fears aside. She knew the house already; there was nothing here to be afraid of. Upstairs, it was cooler than below. The floorboards creaked softly beneath her feet as she reached the small landing at the top of the stairs. Her gaze moved across the three doors she saw several times every day—her own room, Anna’s room, and… the third one. Sara stopped when she noticed that Anna’s door was slightly ajar. She had only been inside a few times; usually Anna came to her room instead, to talk, to tuck her in, to take care of the diaper changes. For a moment Sara simply stood there, her eyes fixed on the narrow opening. Then she swallowed, stepped forward, and pushed the door open carefully. The room was quiet. Silk curtains swayed gently in the breeze from the open window. The bed had been left unmade, the blanket half on the floor, and a clear impression remained in the pillow. The room smelled like Anna—her shampoo, her sweat, the faint traces of earth and hay. Sara’s gaze fell on a chair, where a piece of clothing had been draped over the back: an old, soft, worn red T-shirt. She picked it up and turned it in her hands for a moment before lifting it to her face. Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply, as if trying to hold on to Anna’s scent. It was something she usually only experienced when she was very close to her, and she could never get enough of it. In that moment, everything else seemed to fall away—the eerie quiet of the house, Liisa’s harsh words, the tension of the morning. All that remained was the feeling Anna left behind: warm and safe, yet at the same time tinged with something electric. Sara didn’t know how long she stood there with the shirt pressed to her face. She wanted to take it with her, hide it in her bed and breathe it in at night. She would have preferred to sleep beside Anna, but even a shirt that carried her scent was better than nothing. Without thinking about it any further, Sara took the shirt with her, stepped back into the upstairs landing, and left the door slightly ajar just as she had found it. She had almost reached her own room when her gaze drifted, almost by accident, to something she had nearly forgotten. The purple door. It looked exactly as it always had. The paint was slightly worn, and the old brass handle had long since lost its shine. Sara felt an uneasy pull in her stomach. She remembered her first day clearly—Anna’s voice, and the way she had said: “You shouldn’t go in there. It can’t be opened from the inside.” Back then, that had been enough. Now it wasn’t. Sara stood still for a moment and tried to turn her gaze away. She thought about the barn and the cows, about all the responsibilities waiting for her. She thought about Anna—and what she would say if she saw her now. But no matter how hard she tried to resist, she felt compelled to find out what lay behind the door. It was as if some magnetic force was pulling her toward it. At last, she let out a quiet breath and stepped closer. Adrenaline coursed through her veins, sharpening her senses. She reached out and touched the handle cautiously, as if to confirm that it was real. For a fleeting moment she hesitated, but then she pressed it down. The door opened slowly, without a sound. Immediately behind it hung a dark curtain, drawn across the doorway like a stage curtain, blocking the view beyond. It hung heavy and still, thick enough to swallow the light. Sara felt her heart begin to pound even faster. She glanced over her shoulder once more, even though she knew she was alone in the house. Finally, she reached out, grasped the curtain, and pulled it slowly aside. The room was large—much larger than any of the others upstairs. The walls were painted entirely pink, decorated with white patterns of stars, hearts, and butterflies. A thick, soft carpet covered the floor, muffling her footsteps almost completely. At the far end of the room stood a large white crib, far wider and taller than any baby’s bed—something easily large enough to hold an adult. Sara’s breathing turned shallow and faltered for a moment. Her gaze moved forward, taking in the details of the room more carefully. Next to the crib stood a large changing table, its shelves already stocked with supplies. More shelves lined the walls, neatly arranged with diapers, baby bottles, and toys. Cute stuffed animals stared at her with large, empty eyes, their presence strangely oppressive. A sharp knot twisted in Sara’s stomach. She took one step forward, then another. The carpet felt too soft beneath her feet, as if it had been meant for crawling rather than walking. Her eyes moved hungrily over every detail—the rack of clothes holding bodysuits in her size, the diapers on the shelves identical to the ones she used, the pink glitter-decorated pacifier resting on the crib pillow, attached to a small, decorative chain. The thought struck her like a cold blow. This room existed for her. It had clearly been built over time, but it was meant to become hers. Sara felt a crushing pressure in her chest. Her heart pounded so hard that she could feel it in her throat. The past weeks flashed through her mind—the diapers, the clothes, the way she had been spoken to, the way she had been looked at. Every step. Every small concession. Everything had led her here. SLAM! The sound came without warning. The door slammed shut behind her with a sharp crack, the noise echoing through the room with finality. No one had closed it; a window in the room stood open, and another at the bottom of the stairs. The wind and the draft were enough to seal her inside. Sara flinched so violently her shoulders shot up to her ears. For a moment she simply stared at the door, unable to process what had happened. Then, as understanding settled in, she rushed forward, grabbed the handle, and pulled. Locked. She turned the handle again and pulled harder, but the door wouldn’t open. “No…” Sara whispered, her voice trembling. She pulled at the handle again and again, panic rising rapidly. At one point she even took a few steps back and threw her shoulder against the door, trying to force it open. Nothing worked. “Help!” she cried, her voice breaking, even though she knew deep down it was useless. No one would hear her; the house was empty, and the nearest neighbors were almost a kilometer away. Slowly, she slid down onto the floor, pulling her knees tightly to her chest and leaning back against the purple door. Her gaze fixed on the crib, which already seemed to be waiting for her.
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