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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 love wearing my Huggies. They bring out the inner toddler in me. I just wish a mommy to change them for me. Until then I'll have to change them myself. -
By Lilboydiaper · Posted
Chapter 3: The moment they stepped inside the bakery, they were wrapped in warmth—both from the ovens and the energy of the crowd. The air smelled like sugar and fresh bread, layered with hints of vanilla and chocolate. Workers moved quickly behind the counters, carefully boxing orders and adding finishing touches, while customers filled the space with soft chatter and laughter. It was busy—busier than usual—and it made the whole place feel alive. Jill guided the stroller into line, resting her hands lightly on the handle. “Looks like we picked a popular time,” she said with a small smile, glancing down at Jack. Jack took it all in, his eyes moving from one display case to another. Cakes of every size and color, cupcakes topped with swirls of frosting, cookies shaped like animals and stars—it was almost overwhelming. Then—thump. Flopsy slipped from his arms and landed on the floor. Jack blinked, startled, his hands instinctively reaching down but stopping short. Before he could react, a small pair of feet stepped into view. A little girl—no older than three or four—had picked up the plush rabbit. She held it carefully, like it mattered, and walked it over with a shy but proud smile. “Here,” she said, offering it back. Jack hesitated for half a second, then took Flopsy gently. “Fank goo,” he mumbled around his pacifier, giving her a small wave. She waved back, just as quickly, before being called by who Jack assumed was her parent. Jill watched the exchange with a quiet warmth in her chest. “That was very nice,” she said softly to Jack. Jack hugged Flopsy a little tighter. The moment was small, but it settled something inside him—a reminder that not every pair of eyes felt overwhelming. Some were just kind. ⸻ When it was finally their turn, Jill stepped up to the counter, but Jack’s attention was completely captured. He froze. So many choices. His eyes darted from one cake to another—bright colors, intricate designs, layers of frosting shaped into scenes and characters. It felt impossible to pick just one. Jill noticed immediately. “Hey,” she said gently, crouching slightly so she was closer to his level. “We can take our time.” Jack looked up at her, then back at the display. Jill pointed toward a few options. “What about something like this?” she suggested, guiding his attention. First, she showed him a Dino Dan cupcake set. Each cupcake was topped with swirls of earthy-toned frosting—greens, browns, and sandy yellows—designed to look like little prehistoric landscapes. Some had tiny edible dinosaur figures standing on top, while others featured fossil patterns pressed into the icing. A few even had crushed cookie “dirt” sprinkled across the surface, making them look like miniature dig sites. Jack’s eyes lit up slightly. Dinosaurs… he thought, a flicker of excitement replacing his earlier hesitation. Then Jill gestured to another display—the Mighty Pups cake. This one was bigger, brighter—bold reds, blues, and yellows wrapping around the layers. The top featured a group of heroic puppy figures posed mid-action, capes flowing behind them. Swirls of frosting mimicked clouds and bursts of energy, while small details—like tiny city buildings along the sides—made it feel like a whole little world. Jack stared at it, completely drawn in. For a moment, he went quiet, weighing both options in the way only he could—feeling them more than thinking them through. Then he looked back at Jill. “Dino… cupcakes,” he said softly, then pointed again. “Puppy cake.” Jill smiled, a hint of pride in her expression. “That’s a great choice.” She turned to the worker, placing the order and giving her contact details, confirming pickup times and making sure everything would be ready for the big day. As they stepped back out onto the street, the air felt just as fresh as before—but now there was a quiet sense of accomplishment. “Alright,” Jill said, adjusting the stroller slightly. “One more stop.” ⸻ The café they walked into was smaller, tucked between two larger storefronts, but just as full of life in its own way. The hum of conversation was softer here, more intimate, mixed with the steady sound of milk steaming and cups clinking. Jill stepped up to the counter and placed her order, then moved aside to wait. She rested her hands on the stroller again, gently rocking it back and forth out of habit. Jack sucked lightly on his pacifier, watching the barista move behind the counter. The earlier excitement had mellowed into a calm contentment. A few moments later, the barista glanced over and smiled. “He’s been so patient,” they said, reaching for something behind the counter. “Here—this one’s on us.” They handed over a small cake pop. Jill blinked in surprise, then smiled. “Oh—thank you.” She passed it down to Jack. Jack looked at it for a second, then up at the barista. “Fank goo,” he mumbled, his voice small but sincere. He took a careful bite, eyes lighting up almost instantly. Sweet, soft, perfect. Jill received her coffee shortly after, the warmth of the cup settling into her hands just right. She took a sip and let out a quiet breath. “Mm… perfect.” They stayed there for a moment—Jack enjoying his treat, Jill savoring her coffee, the gentle rhythm of the café wrapping around them. For the first time that morning, everything felt fully settled. The earlier tears, the nerves, the busy bakery—it all faded into the background. Now, it was just a good day. A promising one. Before they left the café, Jill crouched beside the stroller, her movements calm and routine. She gently checked Jack’s diaper, making sure everything was still fine after their time out. “All good,” she murmured, more to herself than anything, giving his leg a soft pat as she settled him back comfortably. “Let’s grab a few things before we head home.” ⸻ Outside, the air still carried that same soft warmth from earlier, balanced by a light, crisp breeze. Jill pushed the stroller at an easy pace, her coffee in one hand, the other resting on the handle. After a few quiet moments, she began to hum. It was soft at first, almost absentminded—a lullaby she’d come to use without even thinking. The melody was gentle, steady, wrapping around them like a quiet blanket. Jack listened, his fingers loosely curled around Flopsy. The rhythm of the stroller, the sound of her voice, the lingering comfort from earlier—it all began to pull him under. I’m safe, he thought dimly, his eyelids growing heavier. I’m okay… The world around him softened. By the time Jill transitioned from humming to softly singing, his eyes had fully closed, his breathing evening out. His pacifier rested in place, moving slightly with each slow breath. Jill glanced down and smiled. “Out like a light,” she whispered. ⸻ The grocery store greeted them with bright lights and the low hum of carts rolling across tile. Jill maneuvered the stroller easily through the entrance, grabbing a basket and hooking it onto the handle. “Just a quick trip,” she said quietly, though she knew Jack wouldn’t hear her. She moved through the aisles with purpose—milk, eggs, orange juice, apple juice. Each item went into the basket with a soft clink. Then on to hamburger meat, pasta sauce, a few extra things she realized they were running low on. All the while, Jack slept. Completely. His head tilted slightly to one side, Flopsy tucked close against him, pacifier still in place. The occasional tiny movement of his fingers was the only sign of life beyond his steady breathing. Jill slowed her pace at one point, just watching him. For a moment, the store faded into the background. Look at him, she thought, her chest tightening in a quiet, emotional way. He’s come so far… we both have. It hadn’t always been easy—figuring things out, understanding what he needed, learning how to support him in a way that felt right. There had been uncertainty, questions, moments of doubt. But standing there now, watching him sleep so peacefully… it all felt worth it. He trusts me, she thought. He feels safe enough to just… be. Her grip on the stroller softened slightly as she lingered in that thought— —and then it jolted. “Oh! I’m so sorry!” a voice said quickly. A couple had accidentally bumped into the stroller while passing by, the sudden movement breaking the stillness. Jack stirred immediately, letting out a small, sleepy whine as his body tensed for just a second. Jill’s focus snapped back. “It’s okay,” she said quickly, steadying the stroller with both hands. She leaned down slightly, her voice soft again. “Hey… you’re alright, sweetheart.” Jack shifted, his face scrunching faintly, but he didn’t fully wake. The pacifier helped, grounding him just enough as he settled again, the whine fading back into quiet. Jill exhaled slowly, brushing a hand over his arm. It’s okay… he’s okay. ⸻ They made their way to the checkout not long after. The cashier greeted them with a bright smile, scanning the items one by one before her attention drifted to Jack. “Well hello there,” she said warmly, her voice softening instinctively. “Aren’t you just the sweetest thing?” Jack stirred slightly at the sound, blinking his eyes open just enough to take in the unfamiliar face. The cashier leaned in just a little—not too close, just enough to engage. “Did you have a big day, huh?” Jack stared for a moment, still half-asleep, then gave the tiniest movement—barely a nod, more like a sleepy acknowledgment. Jill smiled faintly. “He’s been busy.” “I can tell,” the cashier said with a light laugh. “Well, you did a great job today.” Jack didn’t fully respond, but something about the tone—warm, friendly—felt easy to accept. Jill finished paying, gathering the bags and settling them carefully. “Have a good one,” the cashier added. “You too,” Jill replied. ⸻ The walk home felt quieter. Jack had drifted back to sleep completely, the earlier interruption forgotten. The streets weren’t as busy now, the pace of the day slowing just a little. Jill walked steadily, the bags hanging lightly from the stroller, her eyes occasionally drifting down to check on him. There was something deeply peaceful about this part of the day. No rush. No noise. Just the soft sound of wheels against pavement… and the quiet presence of the little boy she cared so deeply for. Home wasn’t far now. -
By safeandhappy · Posted
Cassie talking to another character about adult babies and some requests she's had: https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTk98kQDX/ -
By cute little kokiri girl · Posted
No name Author unknown When I was thirteen years old, my parents decided that I should not spend my summer vacation languishing at home in New York City, but instead I should stay with my mother's sister who lived in a rural town in the State of West Virginia: A much different environment indeed. However, I didn't like this idea one bit. I wanted to spend the summer with my friends in New York, but my parents thought that most of my friends were bad influences and that I would be much better off in the countryside. (Making things worse, several weeks before, I had been caught with some friends who were shooting a BB-gun and throwing rocks at our school's windows. Many windows were broken. Even though I was just watching, I still got in a lot of trouble.) I had no further say in the West Virginia matter, and shortly after school ended, my mother packed me into the car and drove me to stay with my her sister, my Aunt Meg. I was apprehensive during the ten-hour trip. I really didn't remember anything about Aunt Meg or her daughters (my cousins) April who was fourteen and Bonnie who was sixteen. I thought I might be in for a long, boring summer. When we arrived, my mother told Aunt Meg that I had been misbehaving lately and informed her about the BB-gun incident. My mother stated that I really hadn't been disciplined enough. I felt she was exaggerating. Except for this one incident, I was never involved in any kind of trouble. Furthermore, I was very meek, timid, and I cried easily. I was quite afraid of authority figures, and I did as I was told. I behaved far better than most other boys my age. Nevertheless, my mother asked Aunt Meg to discipline me as she saw fit, and Aunt Meg was most pleased to do this. Aunt Meg looked down at me and ran her fingers through my rather unkempt, shoulder-length blond hair. She frowned and asked when was the last time I had had a haircut. She said that in her town boys sported neat crewcuts. I begged my mother and Aunt Meg not to make me get a haircut as long hair was the style among my New York peers and I who were budding fans of hard rock music. My mother conceded that I could leave my hair long on one condition: If I promised to behave and do everything Aunt Meg told me to. Of course I said I would. The next day my mother left for New York leaving me behind in West Virginia. Shortly after my mother departed, Aunt Meg made mention of the punk-rock tee-shirt I was wearing. She told me to take it off as it didn't look nice for a little boy to wear such things. I reminded her that I was thirteen years old (most people treated me as if I were far younger because I was very tiny for my age, had a baby-face, and a high-pitched, little-girl voice that I couldn't help. I was by far the smallest in my class at school and the other kids nicknamed me "Peanut"). I told Aunt Meg that all my friends in New York wore such shirts but she responded that we weren't in crazy New York and that I had needed to learn some manners. She pulled the shirt off me and took it away. Then she led me into the bathroom saying that if I was going to wear my hair long like a girl it at least had to be clean and brushed. I told her I had washed it yesterday but she said that I must wash it every day. She bent me over the sink and proceeded to soak my head. Then she shampooed my hair with her shampoo. She rinsed and dried my hair. She sat me down and brushed it out. Finally, she combed it with a part in the middle. I told her I didn't like it that way, but she said it was too long and that's how I had to wear it, just like I was a girl. She said I was to do it the same way every morning. With my hair parted neatly in the middle, I saw in the mirror that I did look like a girl. When April saw me she giggled and said that now I really looked like a girl. Aunt Meg was quite attractive, and had a great figure. She often wore tight jeans or short skirts, and I thought she looked very sexy. Over the next several days I came to realize that she was very strict and very concerned with cleanliness and manners. I had been interested in women's clothing as far back as I could remember, and when I was about eleven I started dressing in my mother's panties, slips, nightgowns, etc. whenever I got the chance. They were much too large on me of course, but I didn't care. Aunt Meg had a washer and dryer in the basement, but she would dry her lingerie and her daughters' on a clothesline behind the house. I was so fascinated by the assortment of panties, bras, slips, etc. drying out on the line that I couldn't prevent myself from staring at them intensely. Aunt Meg happened to catch me touching some of the lingerie hanging out on the line. She asked me what I was doing. When I didn't answer, she surprised me by saying that if she caught me doing that again she would make me wear everything hanging up! I was so embarrassed I started blushing. Aunt Meg saw my reaction and she laughed hysterically. She teased me further by saying that she would dress me in ladies' underwear and parade me all around town. At dinner that night she told her daughters what had happened. They laughed their heads off and said I was a naughty little boy. I felt so embarrassed. During the next few days I couldn't get this incident out of my mind. I was finding it to be a very, very big turn-on. There were some boys who lived nearby who played ball in the road and in the field. I wanted to join them, but they didn't like me right from the start. They said that I couldn't play with them because I looked like a "hippie" and a "sissy." A few of them thought that I was a girl acting like a tomboy. They wanted to bet me and their friends that I was really a girl! I kept insisting that I was a boy, but everyone was becoming convinced that I was a tomboy. When I refused their requests to take down my pants and prove I really was a boy, they all started chanting, "She's a sissy girl, sissy girl," over and over, and I left. At dinner, I told my aunt what had happened, adding that the boys in her town were stupid and that I wanted to go back to New York. To my chagrin, my aunt acted as if it were all my fault. She said that the boys wouldn't let me play with them because I was a delinquent, had no manners, didn't know how play with others, etc. I became upset and said that that wasn't true, and that it was completely the other boys' faults. Then my aunt really floored me when she said, "Then maybe I should put you in a dress and make you play with the girls." I was so surprised by this remark I started blushing and put my head down. Aunt Meg and my cousins started laughing hysterically. My aunt saw how embarrassed I was by this and was delighted. She added that she was going to take me to the girls' department at Sears and buy me a very pretty outfit. I started sweating and everyone laughed and laughed. Later that night, I kept thinking about my Aunt's remarks to the point that I could hardly fall asleep. The next day however, my aunt made no further mention of making me wear a dress or taking me to Sears, and I was both relieved and disappointed. The day went quietly until dinner time when I accidentally spilled grape juice on my clothes. My Aunt got so angry that she made me immediately strip to my briefs in front of my giggling cousins, and she frantically tried to wash out the stain. She yelled at me, saying that if my clothes were ruined she was going to put me in a dress and spank my bottom. I was so mortified I didn't know what to say. -
May I ask what is the ultimate goal here for the bowel surgery? Is it to mimic the way babies poop their diapers? Because they do not just leak out poop. An urge hits, and they immediately and reflexively poop. One way you could mimic bowel IC is to take a stool softener, such as Osmolax. If you've been in nappies long enough, and just let it flow bey being relaxed down there, so to speak, you'll find that it's nigh on impossible to actively stop a soft stool movement. I've experienced such things as a very gentle urge whilst sitting at my computer, and feeling the poop ooze out into my nappy. I had to do absolutely nothing, and had no way to control it anyway - if I'd stood up, it would have rushed out. Surreal experience. Unrelated to this, but absolutely related to the "just let it flow", I was walking to my car the other day after a train ride home. I was getting decidedly uncomfortable, and unable to pee whilst sitting on the train, but as I was walking up to my car, my bladder let go, and I peed whilst walking, which had been ivery difficult for me to do. There have been a number of people on here travelling down the dual IC path, and their approaches have been largely to just let it happen when they encounter a bowel urge. Any time, any where. After a period of time, it becomes pretty much automatic and difficult to control. The consensus has been that it's very difficult for an adult to retrain bowel control once it's lost, versus bladder control. So my suggestion, rather than risk some very serious complications with bowel prolapse and such, just let it happen naturally, or through some application of stool softener. Much cheaper and safer. I am naturally quite curious how Dr Ivan will deal with a post-op MtF bladder surgery, given the urethra ends up being very short and complicated by the MtF operation. Removing the (now unnecessary) prostate would be a good thing, but I'm wondering whether the surgery Dr Ivan would do removes so much of the internal/external sphincters that the urethra ends up very open and very very short. (thinking risks of infection if one ends up dual IC, and maybe even the bladder drying out from air intrusion via the short urethra).
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