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Diaper References
Diaper/wetting references found in movies and on TV
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Rei whined alittle as she rubbed and her eyes and sat up “five mowe minutes.” She lisped behind her paci while waiting to be lifted out the crib -
@undertheradar: My sympathy and condolences. I suspect I am also what would currently be defined as level 1 autistic. If you would like to try some self diagnosis on this issue, you might want to see my "What's your number" threads in the Deep Thoughts section: https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/96902-whats-your-number-part-1-raads-r/#comment-2212577 https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/96903-whats-your-number-part-2-aspie-quiz/#comment-2212578 https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/96904-whats-your-number-part-3-aq/#comment-2212581 If I'm not on the spectrum, then I blow the statistics on some of theses tests... All of the available screening tests suggest "further evaluation" for me. Don't know if this will help you or not, short of a formal diagnosis For me, I'm old enough (about to retire) to not be concerned whether I am or am not. As to diapers, if cost is an issue and you need better protection, you may want to consider cloth diapers. While the initial cost is up there, the reuse factor significantly drives down costs -- if you have reasonable laundry facilities to deal with this. You can test with a cotton bath towel, diaper pins (or alternatives) and protective pants before making a major investment. Depends on if your are "ok" with being in a wet diaper. For me, I've know since mid-elementary school that how I sense things is different from "normal" or "average". If you are hyper sensitive to touch / feel, this might not be for you. I'm less sensitive and can wear a wet cloth diaper significantly longer than I should (and never learned to dislike them). What originally put me back in diapers was adult onset secondary nocturnal enuresis that set in as a result of an illness, the medications used, and my body's reaction to them. Unfortunately, when the illness cleared, I found how I sensed things had shifted for the second time in my life, and the occasional bed-wetting persisted after that. Years later, early onset BPH knocked out bladder capacity, and I'm now to the point of if I get a good nights sleep and am properly hydrated I'll be wet in the morning. And BPH has also kicked in a day time component, so I'm now wearing protection day and night. Yes, changes like this can slowly creep up on you... Good that you have talked with a Urologist. As to being uncomfortable around others in diapers, well, you need to wear some sort of protection - at least for now. Don't let it bother you to be seen by your wife. Yes, you probably need to work on this... But acceptance of your need should help. And in my opinion, keep trying to stay as dry as you can. Try to keep as much awareness as you can.... Easier said than done for some of us that don't have "normal" / "average" sensations / feelings. This is where cloth diapers and some types of disposable diapers (with Velcro style type tapes) can help allowing you to make it to the bathroom without having to destroy a diaper trying to make it. Find what works for you. I hate to say it, but I've found snap crotch shortalls help in this area when you trying to keep everything clean and dry and make it to the bathroom, at least in warm weather. Best wishes. -
By Sasha_Nicole · Posted
I too am a sissy living in North Yorkshire if you ever fancy a chat. -
But one chapter delivered! I'm loving writing this story. If you could comment on what you think of the story and its changes, or just read it, I would appreciate it. Chapter 03 The scent of lavender detergent hit Ashley like a time machine—not to her grandmother’s laundry room this time, but to a cramped university seminar hall, the air thick with chalk dust and overheated laptops. Professor Chen’s voice echoed in her skull, sharp as a paper cut: *"Infantilization isn’t about age, but about who controls the narrative."* She’d underlined it twice in her notes, the pen digging into the paper. Across the seminar table, Mark had rolled his eyes. "So it’s just fancy talk for bullying?" Ashley’s fingers had tightened around her coffee cup. "No. It’s making someone’s voice so small even they stop hearing it." The memory dissolved like sugar in tea as the nurse’s hands landed on her shoulders, pulling the overall straps up with a series of crisp *snaps*. Ashley jerked against the restraints, but the nurse’s grip was implacable, her thumbs pressing into the hollows of Ashley’s collarbones with clinical precision. The overall straps tightened across her back, the fabric cinching her arms into a half-raised position—not pinned, but *posed*, like a doll arranged on a shelf. "There," the nurse murmured, smoothing a wrinkle from Ashley’s shoulder. "Much better." The words slithered into Ashley’s ears, sticky with satisfaction. She tried to speak, but her tongue felt thick, her lips numb. The nurse’s masked face tilted, her button eyes catching the light. "Use your words, little one." The hairbrush dragged through Ashley's tangled curls with a rhythmic scrape, the bristles catching every few strokes—not painfully, but with a persistent tug that made her scalp prickle. At first, she thought it was static, the way her hair lifted slightly with each pass, but then she felt it: a whisper-soft *crinkle* beneath her, not just from the diaper but from *her*, as if her skin had grown its own plastic layer. The nurse hummed tunelessly, her gloved fingers parting Ashley's hair with clinical care, the brush moving slower now, almost hypnotic. Ashley blinked down at the pacifier clinging to the front of her jumpsuit—pastel pink, with a single white star on the shield, its silicone nipple slightly flattened from pressure. It shouldn't have stayed there, not without a clip, but it clung stubbornly to the fabric like a burr to wool. Her breath hitched as recognition pricked at her—not fear this time, but something worse: familiarity. The pacifier's looped handle was worn smooth from use, tiny teeth marks pressed into the plastic. She knew those marks. Knew the way her own molars had once fit those grooves. The nurse's humming stuttered mid-note as she caught Ashley staring. "Found your binky, did you?" she cooed, plucking it free with a soft *pop* that sent a shiver down Ashley's spine. "You always did like this one best." The laughter hit first—sharp, bright, bouncing off the dorm hallway's cinderblock walls like a rubber ball. Ashley's fingers froze on her textbook page, the sound pricking her ears before the words took shape: "—and then she just *waddled* out of the bathroom like that, full diaper and everything—" A snort. "No fucking way." The voices rounded the corner, three girls from her poli-sci seminar, their arms laden with Starbucks cups and weekend gossip. Ashley's breath caught. She knew, before they even said it, whose story they were telling. "Ashley *Parker*," the tallest girl—Lena—giggled, miming a toddler's stiff-legged walk. "I swear to god, she had this little pink pacifier clipped to her overalls—" The other girls dissolved into laughter, one of them fake-coughing "*Baby Parker*" into her sleeve. Ashley's vision tunneled. The dorm room key bit into her palm. She could still smell it, the thick sweetness of powdered milk clinging to her hair that morning, the crinkle of plastic under her jeans when she'd sat down in lecture. They'd *seen* Emerging from the trance of the nightmare, she returned to the room with the nurse. The crib bars rose around her with the soft *click* of the plastic snapping into place—too high to climb, too smooth to grip. Ashley's palms slid uselessly against the bars as the nurse adjusted the mobile above, its pastel-colored stars swaying lazily under the fluorescent light. "Wait—" Ashley managed to say, her voice choked with emotion, but the word was muffled by the pacifier that had somehow ended up in her mouth. The nurse's gloved fingers brushed a rebellious strand of hair from her forehead, the touch lingering long enough to send shivers down Ashley's spine with something between revulsion and desire. Ashley sees the last gate closing; her body begins to feel a wave of escape; she throws herself into that wave. -
Maddie is feeling a lot of pressure on her bladder. She knows she'll have to go to the bathroom soon, but the last thing she wants is to wear a diaper. When they arrived home, it was all neat and tidy, but it smelled of lavender talcum powder and sour milk. Maddie waited to see what would happen.
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