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I too thought IC was the "end of life as I knew it"...NOTHING could be further from the truth! NOT ONE PERSON treats me ANY differently! I was so paranoid when my issues began I tried hiding them...but a month and a half hospitalization shortly after my problems began ended that, and hiding diapers while hospitalized (and usually, incapable of doing ANYTHING for myself) is IMPOSSIBLE...once I learned about REAL DIAPERS and began bringing my own...it was such a shock to me...NO ONE CARED! To this day, No one treats me ANY differently! The weird aspect is incontinence is the ONLY medical issue I have that causes me no pain! Yes, it can be a PITA (PAIN IN THE ASS!) but outside of that? Literally, NO DIFFERENCE. ALL of my friends are still all of my friends and of course I have met/made many others since. AMAZING how we torture ourselves, imagining the worst, when in reality, it is the ONLY issue we live with that really has no effect whatsoever in life. I've been on dates (so far, none are for me, but I am looking!) and none of those gals thought much of me in diapers. Wish you the best! CptKirk -
Oh there is a reckoning at hand, I can see it rolling in and dropping like been threatening to since Gabby left the house. The only possibilities are what level of Gabby's secrets are being revealed. Isaac revealing Mr Smith visiting is about the only thing that might be a positive for Gabby but I'm pretty sure that this is at least about Gabby prepping Spike on how to treat Tess on their first Daddy trial, shitstorm edition. If not more. it has been a while since last new start but the chapters work better if they are in the narratively close to each other in timing so to me it's fine if they don't turn up now and then. Though dropping this and then moving to Tess would feel like a cut to commercial break just before the big reveal. -
The air in the house was thick with a cloying anticipation, a scent I now associated with my own impending humiliation. My wife Carolyn’s lover, Mark, was due to arrive. He was an alpha, a man whose presence was a physical force, and today, I was the offering. The instructions had been specific: a plain white disposable diaper, and over it, a ridiculous, lace-lined pink diaper cover that felt like a parody of femininity. The doorbell rang, a sound that sent a jolt of pure terror through my body. I scurried to the living room, my heart a frantic drum against my ribs. Mark didn't even say hello. He stepped inside, his eyes raking over me with a detached, predatory amusement. He shrugged off his jacket and, with a sigh of boredom, pointed at the floor in front of him. I knelt, my head bowed, the rustle of my diaper cover deafening in the silence. He unzipped his fly. His cock, thick and imposing even in its semi-hard state, sprang out. He didn't ask. He didn't command. He simply grabbed the back of my head, his fingers tangling in my hair, and shoved it into my mouth. The taste was musky, overwhelming. He thrust, deep and hard, ignoring the strangled gag that tore from my throat. My eyes watered, tears of pain and humiliation streaming down my face. I was a hole, an object. This wasn't the playful fantasy I had confessed to Carolyn in the dark; this was raw, brutal reality. I was too weak, too broken by the sheer force of his will, to do anything but take it. That's when the front door opened again. Carolyn. She took in the scene—me on my knees, her lover’s cock buried in my throat—in a single, sweeping glance. A flash of something crossed her face, not anger, but a cold, sharp possessiveness. She walked right past us, shedding her coat, and sat on the edge of the bed. "Mark, honey," she said, her voice a silken purr. "Don't wear him out completely. I want him to watch." Mark grunted, but he pulled out, leaving me gasping for air, a string of saliva connecting my lips to his now fully erect shaft. He joined Carolyn on the bed, and they began to make love with a passionate, animalistic intensity that felt utterly alien to the fumbling sex I had ever had with my wife. I was forgotten, a diapered statue in the corner, forced to listen to their moans, the slap of flesh on flesh. "God, his cock is so much bigger than yours ever was, sissy," Carolyn moaned, her eyes locked on me. "He actually knows how to use it." She turned to Mark, her voice thick with lust. "Tell my little husband what you enjoy." He looked over at me, a cruel smirk on his face. "I enjoy fucking your wife. I enjoy knowing you're over there in your pissy panties, wishing you were a real man." "Tell him what you enjoy, sissy," Carolyn commanded. My voice was a pathetic whisper. "I... I like peeing in my diapers. And being treated like the little sissy I am." The words hung in the air, a testament to my utter degradation. As if on cue, my bladder released, a hot flood of shame that soaked the diaper, the warmth a horrifying, sensual counterpoint to the icy dread in my soul. The pink diaper cover grew dark and damp. I watched Carolyn’s expression, a twisted mirror of my own state, shift from the disgust she once held for my secret to the pure, unadulterated pleasure this real man was giving her. After what felt like an eternity, they finished. Carolyn, without looking at me, pointed a trembling finger towards the stairs. "Spare bedroom. Now. Don't you dare move or take that off until I come for you." I fled, the squelching of my soaked diaper a humiliating soundtrack to my retreat. It was hours. I lay in the dark, the diaper growing cold and clammy against my skin, the sounds of their renewed passion drifting up the stairs, each moan a fresh twist of the knife. "Get down here, sissy!" Carolyn's voice was a whip crack from the stairwell. I scrambled down, my body stiff and cold. She was standing at the bottom, holding a large, black wooden paddle. "What might have happened if I hadn't come in when I did?" she asked, her voice dangerously low. She let the question hang in the air, then grabbed my wrist, her grip like iron, and dragged me into the guest bedroom. "You're going to learn to do exactly what I tell you from now on." She shoved me over the side of the bed, my face pressed into the comforter. With brutal force, she yanked the soaked diaper and the frilly pink cover down to my ankles. "Don't you dare move or try to cover yourself!" I had never been spanked as a child, but this was no childish punishment. This was retribution. She didn't bother with a warm-up. The paddle came down, a searing line of fire across my bare ass. I screamed, a raw, guttural sound of pure agony. "Stupid little sissy..." WHACK! "...trying to get yourself fucked..." WHACK! I begged, I pleaded, I promised her anything, but she was a storm of fury. "You would have let my man have you, wouldn't you?" WHACK! The blows got harder, her rage fueling her arm. Through the blinding pain, a strange, terrifying clarity washed over me: she wasn't just angry. She was scared. The thought that I might have given myself to Mark, that I might have enjoyed it, had shaken her to her core. And in that moment, as she beat the crap out of me, I felt a perverse sense of relief. She cared enough to claim me, even through violence. By the time she threw the paddle down, I was too weak to scream, my body a limp, sobbing mess. I lay there, my backside a throbbing, burning ruin, and cried into the bedspread. She let me weep for a few minutes, her breathing the only sound in the room. Then, her voice softened. "Lay down on the bed." I obeyed, wincing as my raw skin touched the sheets. She opened the closet door, revealing a terrifying new reality. It was no longer a closet; it was a supply depot. Shelves were stacked with bags of disposable diapers, boxes of wipes, and tubs of powder. Racks held an array of sissy clothing—frilly dresses, onesies, and more of the humiliating diaper covers. She took out a fresh, thick diaper and unfolded it with a loud crinkle right in front of my face. "This is your underwear from now on. A constant, tangible reminder that I am in charge of you. No one else." I cried out as she slid the thick padding under my sore, red bottom, the rough texture a fresh agony. She taped it snugly into place, the finality of the sound a death knell to my old life. She then tossed a pair of flannel pajamas at me. I put them on quickly, my movements clumsy with pain and shame. I stood by the bed, afraid to even think about sitting. "You want to stand? Go stand in the corner," she said, pointing. I shuffled to the corner, my nose pressed against the cool paint. "I'm not mad anymore," she said, her voice gentle again, a stark contrast to the violence of moments before. "I consider this my fault. I didn't employ corporal punishment before. I see now that you don't just want this; you need VERY strict discipline. And that's what you are going to get. I don't care if you're gay, or a sissy, or whatever, but you will not ever try to have sex with my man again!" "I'm not gay," I sobbed, the confession tearing from me. "I hated what he was doing. I was so scared... so powerless." The words tumbled out, a torrent of my darkest secrets. "I... I don't feel like I can be responsible for myself. I just want someone to tell me what to do. To control me." "Well, you have that now," she said, her voice firm but not unkind. "But I want to hear you say it. Are you a man, or are you a little sissy girl who needs his wife to be his mommy and to care for and punish you?" I turned my head, my tear-streaked face looking at her, my true owner. The words were the ultimate surrender, the key to the cage I had always wanted to be locked in. "I'm a scared little baby girl, Mommy." -
By Kitty Angel · Posted
Could be I'm torn now, not sure whether to continue this sequence tomorrow, or to post a chapter of The Last New Start while it's been almost a week since that one was updated. Tess might be getting lonely without her readers 😛 -
By Padded-Cellar · Posted
Wrote a new one shot based in my diaper dimension universe. It's partly there for world building and expansion, and partly to get some of my own grievances out. Not sure how well I handled it. Contains dark aspects such as forced gender transition, body horror, and forced body altering in a medical nature. If this makes you uncomfortable, please do not read this. It also doesn't have a ton of kink aspects outside of the setting. I know that transitioning is a sensitive topic and i'm worried I didn't handle it well enough, I was hoping for some trans or otherwise alt-savvy people to help advise me on how to handle it or to scrap the angle I am hoping to get feedback on this as I'm not sure how well I handled it. You can leave feedback in this thread or in the unlisted on Deviantart, or DM me on this site or on Deviantart. Again, this story is pretty dark. Sorry, I promise to write more light hearted stuff soon. https://www.deviantart.com/stash/013ffaarb3ap
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