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THE DAY CARE I needed to go out of town overnight and i dont trust anyone with my little boys secret. I did however find a daycare that would take him in and promised total discretion. When i told my little boy he would be staying overnight at a day care center, he didnt like it. He pouted and stuck his lip out and said he didnt want to. i asked if he wanted a suppository before we left for teh day care. That shut him up. he hated the thought of letting someone else see him in a messy diaper. I ginned inwardly. Little did he know, I had written up a whole list of instructions for the day care. When we got there he was on his best behavior until i got ready to leave. there was much whining and it took a shap smack on his bottom to quiet him. The daycare lady winked and i was on my way. She recorded everything for me and gave it to me on my return. The litte boy didnt like being here, i could tell. So we put him in front of the TV and turned on spongebob. Per your instructions that was his favorite. He watched for a while and i gave hima bottle of juice to drink. He was content until i noticed him fidgeting. "Need to wet your diapers little boy?" He blushed and wrigled some more. well lets not get your nice outside clothes dirty. i think a onsie is in order." He blushed again and i took him back to the guest bedroom. He was wearing a thin "public" diaper and i knew it wouldnt hold much of a wetting. "Lets get you into a nice thick diaper shall we?" I took all his clothes off and laid him down. I untaped his diaper, and gave him a quick wipe. "what tiny littel man parts! Its a good thing your mommy keeps you in diapers." He blushed deper red and wriggled, uncomforatble with a semi-stranger changing his diaper. I had several extra thick wellness briefs i had pre-slit for double diapering. I put the first under him, and then went to his diaper bag. "You mommy said you need these." i shook a box of dulcolax. He shook his head and mouthed "NO!". "well if you dont want them now i guess ill pick when i use them later." I gave hima good caoting of vaseline and taped up the first diaper. THen slid a seocnd under him and taped it up as well. "There. All good and secure. You can wet as much as you like in those. they'll hold anything a boy like you can put in them." His eyes widened. "Oh yes i know all about your little "naps". We do afternoon naps here as well. What happens, you'll find out at nap time". I snapped the crotch of his onsie and rubbed his well lubed littel man parts. I felt a stirring inside the fron tof his diaper. "Your mommy left very specific instructions of you do a number three in your diaper. You wont like them, i guarantee." He blushed again. I stuck a paci in his mouth and told him to get in the kitchen for lunch. My high chair has hand and foot straps for reluctant babies and i quickly had him strapped into place I had a variety of baby food waiting for him, none of it particularly tasty. He refused all of it. I had a remedy for picky big babies. I pinched his nose and when he opened his mouth to breath, i slid in a very special pacifier. It had a bite guard on it and a bulb with lots of holes that went inside the babies mouth. a nice springy strap went around the back of the babies head to secure it. i snapped it into place and scowled at him. "Looks like youll be getting lunch this way then." i got out a one quart hanging bag with tube. i connected the tube to the opening on the front of his paci. He got to watch as i emptied all the veggies from the baby food containers into the bag. i added some water a smooshed it until it was a soupy liquid. Now was the fun part. I went to his diaper bag and pulled out a container of mira-lax. I walked back and waved it in his face. "This will get you "going" littel man. And guess where its going?" HIs eyes widened and he struggled against the straps in teh chair. He watched as i measured out three doses and dumped them in the bag. i smooshed it around and mixed it in. "Ready?" He shook his head and struggled. "Too bad! Heres lunch!" i opened the valve and the laxative laced goop slowly slid down the tube. His eyes widened and he struggled as it neared his paci. the bite guard kept him fron biting the tube and the bulb kpet him from blocking it with his tounge. He groaned as his mouth filled with the laxative laced veggies. I opened teh valve wide open and left him there, keeping a close eye on him. He bucked and struggled but finally reisgned to his fate kept swallowing the mixture. I walked over and rubbed the front of his diaper. "Eat it all and maybe you'll get something special." His eyes widened and i felt the same stirring. I kept rubbing for a moment longer and heground his hips against my hand. "Not just yet little boy." He whined as i moved my hand away. "Are you wet yet?" he shook his head. "Well your diapers will handle it all. Let it go when you feel like it." After ten minutes or so the bag had emptied. I removed the tube and rinsed the bag. "Time for dessert!" i had filled the bag with pureed prunes. "between the mira-lax and those prunes those diapers of your will be penty dirty today and tomorrow." He blushed again. the prunes dissapeared in about the same amount of time. About halfway through he stiffened and i heard him wet his diapers. i walked over and felt the warm front. "Looks like a good thing we put thick diapers on you little mister wet pants. Youre a heavy wetter." He wriggled in the chair. "Now for something to drink." I filled the bag about halfway with thick formula. He sat there stoically as the formula filled his mouth. His tummy was bloated and full and he groaned when i took him out of the chair. I sat him on the living room floor and cleaned up from lunch. "Nap time!" I called. His paci was still in and his eyes asked me questions. "Hmmm. Lets check those diapers of yours." He laid down on teh bed and i unsnapped his onsie. they were wet but not overly so. i told him to roll over. "i think you need some creme on your bottom before your nap." I put on a rubber glvoe and squeezed a generous amount of desitin on my hand. i also slipped two dulcolax in teh creme. I rubbed him well on his bottom and in his little crack. "In your bottom too." i said. he lifted his tummy and my finger sild inside his ass pushing in the dulcolax and caoting it with desitin. He was none the wiser. I rubbed in and out several times. "there you go littel boy, ready for nap." I laid him down in teh crib and said: "Now you stay in here until i come get you. If you get out early you'll get a spanking. But just to make sure.." i clipped a crib alarm to his collar. "If that goes off, remember these?" i shook the dulcolax box menacingly. His eyes widened and he nodded. Little did he know the goods had already been delivered. there were 8 more suppoistories in teh box and i fgured to use them all by the time his mommy came to get him. I had tied the crib alarm short so even him rolling over or sitting up would set it off. He lasted about fifteen minutes and i heard the alarm go off. He was sitting up, rubbing his tummy. the suppositories were working. "I warned you littel boy. Roll over!" he whined and obediantly rolled over. I gloved up and unwrapped two more dulcolax right in front of his nose. I slid my hand slowly into his diaper and teased his ass with my finger before sliding in the suppositories. He tensed his ass trying to stop me but my desitin lubed finger slipped right by. i frowned. "just for that, you get to spend the night in these diapers. Better keep them clean." Fat chance of that. Nobody can hold back four dulcolax. "since you already set it off, i know you dont care about the crib alarm. I have other ways." I flipped the crib top down and locked it. "there you go. Ill see you later."

I'm one of those people who if I'm going to be diapered, I want to be wearing baby diapers. My personal favorites are Pampers and Huggies. I tend to get my diapers from the diaper pail in the nursery of my church. I was just wondering if anyone else feels like this or if I'm the only one. Also, if anyone can tell me their favorite babyish diapers I'd be interested in hearing how much pee they hold why you recommend them.

Chapter 1 Without a clear direction for himself, Martin McShane decided to check into rehab. The 35-year-old actor was widely known for his roles in popular 1980s TV shows. In the early 90s, he became a movie star and became a very successful actor until he developed an addiction to alcohol. His success rapidly declined as he became extremely volatile on the set. Film crews and his fellow actors felt uncomfortable working with McShane. After a decade of starring in box office flops and low-budget indie films, McShane decided to enter rehab though he felt that he was pressured into attending. He was under the impression that he was not an addict, but rather he chose to establish an intimate relationship with the bottle. It was the only remedy to his life, which he often referred to as his "cancer." It may be true that McShane chose to be an alcoholic, but he knew that he lost his way, but he didn't care. The alcohol powered his overwhelmingly brutish selfishness. Even though he loved his family, his wife and his kids, he felt the pain and pressure of accommodating their wants and needs was unbearable. As long as he could taste the sweetness of free-flowing liquor, he was satisfied. But as soon as he entered the Reseda Recovery Center, he felt empty, alone and weak. His fame and fortune no longer shielded him from intervention. After riding high for almost 15 years, he had no more bottles to drink, no more joints to roll, no more cocaine to snort and no more heroin to shoot. The party was over. Wearing a white t-shirt, a brown sports jacket and dusty blue jeans, McShane sat in the lobby of the center, waiting to meet Dr. Penn, the facility's supervisor. Though he was waiting to see Dr. Penn, he didn't want to be cured. He didn't want a doctor to tell him that he had problems. He already knew he had problems. Even the term "doctor" bothered him. McShane thought to himself: what good are doctors anyway? He thought, "They're people like me except they wear white lab coats, act like pretentious assholes who forcefeed their patients perscription drugs that make their patients sicker than before. If I wanted a fix, I'd go to the bar down the street. Fuck them." An attractive, long red-haired employee of the facility approached McShane. Though she was dressed in white, her beauty and slender appearance negated his criticism. "Martin McShane, yes?" she asked as he adjusted her eyeglasses. McShane licked his lips, placed his hands on his lap and said, "Yes ma'am." "I'm Layla Bradley, Dr. Penn's assistant." She offered her hand to shake. He kissed her hand instead. "The pleasure is all mine." McShane grinned, but grimaced once she brushed his saliva off the back of her hand. "Charmed. I want to show you the room where you'll be staying until your treatment is complete. Come with me." McShane followed Bradley into a small, yellow-painted room with a single bed, a desk with a set of drawers underneath, a mirror which was placed on the same side as the door. McShane's eyes drifted to the floor as he analyzed the size dimensions of the room, which he already deemed as inadequate for his personal taste. He didn't want to insult Dr. Penn's assistant so he bit his lip, took a backpack off his back and threw it onto the bed. "I tell all the incoming patients that we are not a fancy hotel, but we will try to make your stay enjoyable as best as we possibly can," said Bradley as he stood in the doorway. McShane looked at the bed, then turned around to Bradley. "It's better than a prison cell, right? It's better than sharing a room with a cellmate who wants to make you his bitch. Don't want that." "I wouldn't wish that on anyone," commented Bradley. "But at least you're in good hands here." "Whatever." "Dr. Penn will be with you shortly. He'll tell you about the treatment we provide here." "I'll take a whatever with a shot of whatever." As the door closed, McShane looked at himself in the mirror. He couldn't believe what he became. He looked like he was at least 15 years older. His once thick, black hair was thinning out. He was dark circles under his eyes. He was unshaven, unkempt and lost. Even at 35, McShane didn't feel that his personal image would change dramatically. This is who he was. Nothing was really going to change, he thought. Nothing mattered. His plan was to complete rehab, appear before flashing lights of cameras and tell everyone that he was fine, but he wouldn't have to go about his life differently. His apathy was irreconcilable. McShane walked around the room, checked the room's small closet and the drawers. It seemed like he would wait an eternity before the doctor arrived. He wanted to find something that he could get his fidgety hands on. When he opened up one of drawers underneath the room's desk, he found a pair of purple pajamas with a plethora of yellow-collored moons and white stars all over. They looked like children's pajamas, but when he looked at how big the pajamas were, he realized it was pajamas for adults. "What kind of pervert would wear kid jammies to rehab?" McShane asked himself. "What a fruitcake." Dr. Penn opened the door and McShane quickly put the pajamas away. McShane pretended to smile as soon as he saw Dr. Penn. The elderly doctor, in his mid 60s, calmly walked over to McShane and shook his hand. Immediately, McShane thought the doctor was a complete pushover. To McShane's surprise, the doctor was dressed casually. He wore a red-plaid shirt, brown pants and black sneakers. The doctor's appearance amused the actor, who traditionally never appreciated formalities. "Nice to met you, Martin. I want to get on a first-name basis with you -- and by the way, you can call me Richard." "Okay, doctor," replied McShane with a dry sense of humor. "You're right, I am a doctor, but I'm not the kind of doctor that's going to sit down with you and wag my finger and waste your time. I know you don't want to be here." "Well congratulations, Richard, how did you ever figure that one out?" McShane snapped sarcastically. "My wife told me to come. She's all, 'You have to go because you have a drinking problem, wah-wah-wah,'" he mocked. "And I said, 'Look, baby, I'll go but only if it means you'll shut up, and she did. All that nagging... couldn't put up with it." "But this is really about you and how you need to get better," said Penn before closing the door behind him. "And I'm sure you heard that from other people -- and it gets really aggravating after a while, doesn't it?" "Shit yeah, it does." "Great, so I'll cut to the chase. At my facility, I have a really unique approach to dealing with recovering addicts -- and sure, it will be a little strange at first, but after a while, you will naturally accept it and it will become a part of your life." "And your 'really unique approach' is what exactly?" "I'll show you, but first I have to ask you to take off your pants." McShane raised an eyebrow, coughed and cleared his throat in shock. "Wait, what? Are you some sort of freak?" "Not at all. I'll tell you what: lay down on your bed and close your eyes." "Wait a minute. Hold on, hold on. Okay, so you're not treating me to dinner and a movie first?" The doctor laughed and shook his head. "I'm not going to even touch you, Mr. McShane. No, my assistant, Layla, is going to participate in this exercise." McShane's eyes opened wide. He smiled, chuckled and rolled his eyes playfully as he sat down on the bed. "Oh, alright. Sure, I can see where this is headed," McShane joked and laid back as he was instructed. "It's not what you think, but I bet you will be pleasantly surprised." The doctor left the room. McShane didn't know what to expect, but he liked Bradley. He thought of a number of ways he could seduce her. Even though he had a wife waiting for him, McShane couldn't resist entertaining his other, most lustful addiction. If the doctor meant that his rehabilitation methods included sex with a beautiful, young woman, he didn't want to be cured. Maybe another stint of rehab would do him some good, McShane thought. He didn't care if the public perceived him as a lost cause. If rehab meant getting laid, he would continue his drinking binges. Bradley arrived with a large, black duffel bag. She set the bag aside and looked at McShane as he relaxed on his bed with his arms folded behind his head. He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and chuckled. He followed his chuckle with a deep, seductive growl. "We barely know each other, but you can't stand to be away from me for even a minute," he teased. Without acknowledging his comments, Bradley unzipped the duffel bag and slowly removed its contents. McShane noticed some very peculiar items. There was a plastic container with the words "baby powder" written on it. She set it on the end table by his bed. Then she took out a package of baby wipes. McShane wanted to say something, but he kept his lips sealed for the time being. "So you're the kinky kind of gal, huh? Want to get freaky with some foreplay?" When she brought out a thick, disposable diaper, he knew something was up. She gave McShane a very cynical look as she hovered over him and started to undo his belt and pants zipper. "Hey sister, where are you going with this? This isn't my cup of tea."

hihi! umms i not sure to say, buts i vewy fwiendwy and nice so if you wansa talk me, you cans. when i not pwaying in my baby mode, i wike ping pong, bowling, softball, and hoop dancing. i started getting into the ab scene at a young age. when i was 8, i ended up having the whole right side of my brain taken out, so had to learn everything over. I ended up having to push myself in academics in order to keep up with the kids in my class. The left side of my body is also weak due to the surgery. This caused me to stay inside for recess. For the most part, i dont let this stop me, rather it has made me stronger. Hope i make lots of friends.

Just before the new year I decided to indulge more in what I love and one of those things is wearing diapers. I set a goal for 2010 to stop feeling guilty and weird for doing so and start wearing more often. My results for January are overwelming, 16 days I wore a diaper for fun in the whole month, which is more then I did for the whole year of 2009. I'm proud to say that on this forth day of February I have worn 3 days out of four. Something has turned in me, a lot of what gave me the ambition to wear more often and enjoy this was reading here on DD and someone pointed out that what harm are you doing to others by indulging in this as long as it's done in the privacy of your own home or atleast discreetly out in public. Thank fellow diaper lovers for helping me find happiness in what this world thinks is weird!

Chapter 21: Sunday Evening ‘Unplugged’ and that doesn’t mean ‘acoustic’! The rest of the trip was uneventful. We stopped at the grocery store for a few things including oatmeal, Cream of Wheat, some honey, molasses and Caro syrup all of which Amy said was for my baby formula. She also picked out some beef, pork and chicken for her meals the following week and some deli, lettuce and bread for sandwiches at work. It seemed a strange combination to me - formula and yet sandwiches - but then nothing in this new life seemed normal. This was borne out as we pulled into the garage and the door shut behind us. Amy reached over and slapped my wrist when I went to unbuckle my seatbelt. “We’re home, now baby! Mommy will get you out of the car!” Once inside the house, I was led upstairs to my nursery where Amy helped me take off my adult clothes. She snuck a finger under my plastic panties to feel a very wet diaper. “You are a very wet little boy! Up on your changing table! Let’s take care of you now.” She continued back in the tone of the Mommy voice. I was the baby again and I was not to question. She began changing my diapers as always but stopped after laying out the new double cloth diapers beneath me. “Time to test the theory, diaperpt. You’ve had that plug in for quite a while now. How are you doing with it?” “Umm…I guess it feels OK. It doesn’t hurt like it did at first,” I said. “Would you like it out now?” Uh oh! Yes, I wanted it out but that also meant that something was going to come of all the bulk I’d consumed, the pressure that had been building slowly behind the plug and the very predictable affect that coffee always had on me! I hesitated before I spoke; this was another one of those lose, lose situations that Amy loved to put me in. I decided to play the obedient boy. Or was I playing? “Gosh, Mommy. I don’t know what to say. What do you think I should do?” She smiled, “It isn’t what you do, but what Mommy does for you. And I think it’s time for the plug to come out. It’s already past the time you’d normally get home from work, so you’ve had the plug in for about as much time as you’d absolutely need it. Of course, there may be times when Mommy wants to leave it in longer, but I’ll decide that as we go along. I’m going to pull it out of you. It may not be real comfortable coming out, but I’m sure you can get used to that too. You’ve done well so far today, little boy. Be careful though and don’t let any poop out right away.” She laughed and continued, “Let me get your diapers on before you mess them! That would make Mommy very unhappy!” I felt her grasp the flat end of the plug and turn it slowly, beginning to draw it out. I gasped at first but aside from a tiny twinge of pain it came out of me relatively easily. Immediately I felt its absence as much as I’d felt its presence all the time it was in. There was still a dull ache where it had been and I felt the pressure in my colon develop a different feeling. As Amy pinned my diapers tight, pulled up my plastic panties and snapped on a new onesie, I realized I wasn’t going to stay clean very long. Halfway through our supper I started passing gas. I had felt a series of cramps as I felt the approach of the inevitable. Amy was eating a hamburger on a roll with a tossed salad while I was relegated to two big baby bottles of my formula. She sat at the table while I sat across from her in my highchair. “I think my little boy is having some problems. Is that right?” “Mommy,” I whined, “it hurts.” “It’s OK, baby. Once you let it out it’ll feel better. If you can stay regular, you won’t need that plug during the day. We’ll only use it when we need it. Now I’d prefer it if you didn’t stink up the whole kitchen while I’m eating, but I know you need to let things happen.” It was humiliating to hear this reminder of my need for diapers, but it was even more humiliating when the pressure became so great that I had to shift in my highchair and lift a cheek to let out what I thought was going to be more gas. Instead, soft wet poop slid out. The warm smoosh of it on my backside felt awful as I reluctantly sat back down fully. I sucked more on my bottle for a while and twice more had to raise a cheek to allow more release. The poop on my bottom felt awful as well as being embarrassing, but it was at least a relief from the cramping and pressure. Amy looked over at me with a knowing smile and made a show of sniffing the air. “Thank goodness for good plastic panties,” she said. “I can’t smell you at all. And you are being a good little diaper boy, filling your pants like that. You finish your dinner and later on I’ll give you a nice bath and get you ready for the night.” I felt quite messy by the time I’d finished both my formula and a bottle of juice. Still, when Amy let me up from the highchair, even more poop billowed out into my diapers. I’d been looking forward to getting cleaned up immediately, but that wasn’t to be. Instead, Amy insisted on watching one of her favorite Sunday evening TV shows while I sat on a mat at her feet in the living room. I could feel the mess spread as I once again sat down. Would I ever get used to this? I couldn’t imagine how. I watched the show though and enjoyed this little bit of adulthood, even if it was in a wet and messy diaper sitting on the floor at the feet of my Mommy. When the show was over, Amy led me upstairs into my nursery. She removed my onesie and plastic panties and diapers. The smell was overpoweringly acrid and we both wrinkled our noses. She smiled and laughed at our mutual reaction. She used 3 wipes before she said I was clean enough to make it to the bathtub without making a mess. She had already drawn a full tub of water and I welcomed the feel of warmth as I was allowed to slide into the tub. She soaped up a washcloth and began washing me thoroughly. Once she was satisfied I was clean, she told me to relax in the tub while she cleaned up the mess in the nursery. She returned and had me stand up while she inspected me closely and shaved away little stray strands of hair trying to gain a foothold in my diaper area. I was then allowed to soak some more before she inspected me once again to be sure there was nothing to mar the baby smooth surface of my diaper area. Once I was out of the tub and dried off, I was brought back to my nursery and diapered for the night. The soft thick cloth felt so, so good against my baby smooth skin and it was so comforting to feel the tightness of my diapers captured within the grasp of baby blue pull-on plastic panties. When Amy went to the drawers to get a sleeper, I grimaced as I thought she was getting my hobble-sleeper but it was just a regular sleeper with the same print as the hobble one. I still felt a little strange in these sleepers, but they were so warm and comfortable that it made up for the feeling that I was being dressed like a little child. By this time, I was exhausted from the events of the day; a lot had happened and I certainly hadn’t slept well last night. The sight of my crib with the side down waiting for me was as welcome as anything I could imagine. I slid in easily, listening to the crackle of the plastic under-sheet, feeling the texture of it beneath me interacting with the soft, warm sleeper and my thick diapers beneath. Amy reached in and gave me a big full kiss on the lips as she’d done this afternoon – this was a wife/husband kiss, not a Mommy/baby kiss – and yet I knew my place very well. It was confusing, but somehow comforting and I was further comforted as she handed me my night-time bottle and pulled up the side and lowered the top bars of my crib. The sound of the locks on the crib was one of comfort and safety. I sighed contentedly as she shut off the lights and slipped out the door as I nursed myself to sleep. My last thoughts before drifting off were pleasant thoughts of our conversation at Dunkin’ Donuts and her statement that things were only going to get better. Things had certainly been tipped upside down and inside out for me over the last few weeks, but somehow I believed that Amy was right; that things were going to be better for each of us and for us together as a couple.

I'm trying to figure out what way to get in. If I can make the logistics work out, I'll be there. Anyone who can tell me the closest NJ transit stop would be wonderful.

Goody: Nobody will be able to feel under my skrits

Nothing confirmed yet however DW and myself are going to try to make the trip this weekend. If we cannot make the March trip we will try for the April one.

"Sorry for posting in the wrong forum!" This is the Spanking forum...so technically you didn't post in the wrong forum. You could go to the meeting place forum for your state and do a similar post though. I understand the NJ gang over there has some great get togethers and from what I have seen a great group. You should join in on the fun. Welcome to the boards.

Find a psychologist. I beg you.

Proper spacing, basic punctuation, and capitalization are the only things I care about. Without these, I can not understand your post. How am I supposed to follow a wall of text, and be expected to make a helpful reply?

I was liking it, till the cum part.

I think johnbunker's idea really attests to the idea that people should stop being afraid of pleasing everyone else all the time and do what you want to do -- as in do what makes you happy, not what hurts others

Congrats! Isnt it nice to get over the paranoia and be able to enjoy your diapers? Years ago i was the same way, would wear maybe a dozen times a year, too paranoid/nervous or didnt have the chance. Now i wear almost 24/7 and life is great

I really want a Toyota Highlander...can you say awesome! Anyways, my Classicos are on their way! Yay

^ sort of reinforced why I would not pay such a high price for a diaper to leak. I can't really afford to have leakage problems at my job.

because they're gross. I don't like to judge, but the squishy forum is where all the weirdos hang out. eww.

That is nowhere near what I am looking for and the price is absurd

dude, used baby diapers? I think that is crossing the line. so you like to sit in baby's excretions? This is not about the diapers, the diapers are fine. It is about liking the feeling of wearing baby's urine. That is not sanitary whatsoever. You really do need to seek help. This is unhealthy for you mentally. Like I said. my problem has nothing to with the diapers at all, it has to do with the baby urine. Whether you acknowledge it our not, you are involving a baby in your fetish. Without the baby, you would not get satisfaction out of it. So you ARE crossing the line into pedophilia. Even if you don't like children. Please seek help mate.

If I worked at the local supermarket and fives days into my week diaper binge I'm sure I'll get a little itchy right? That's why I propose giving myself a full frontal scratch around my privates when I get a quite moment on the till.... Then I'm ready to scan people's food again.... I'm sure its in the disability discrimination act the employer can't fire me for smelling, right?

I'll make myself constipated and cut my calorie count down to 3700 a day, I guess if I eat red meat all week I'll manage plus every time I leak I'll just strap a fresh nappy with some antiperspirant and bingo I'm fresh for another day or two...

Both in the Sissykiss post in the Sissy Room and in House of Sissify and other such, the dialog is very adult sexually explicit, not childlike at all and that seems to be an integral part of it. There appear to be subtle overtones of FemDom in there. Most of my concepts come from House of Sissify and Mrs Silk's over the course of 8 or so years The quote I put here says otherwise and it is from here. Then how could you have "sissy boy"? "sissy girl" would be meaningless. Also LG's do not identify as Sissy, more as transgender but mostly as LG. It is nearly impossible to get a clear read on "Sissy", which I have explained elsewhere. when I deal with an LG, m or f (the latter called GG for "genetic girl") I can orient myself quite easily I recently found out that I cannot do that with Sissies. If you try to get beyond the frilly outfits and a veneer of doll, there is nothing there. It is like ther is not a substantial person in there If the tiara fits, wear it; if it does not, then do not project the illusion. Who else but the self-absorbed would argue with the natives? It implies that they know more about the territory than the folks who live there. I learned that lesson when I was 18 and embarrassed myself to just pieces.

How many diaper stuffer's would one need? Would the smell and bulk be obvious to work mates? What antiperspirant should one use to conceal the smell?

Sense of humour bypass here I see... This thread is amusing.

I was watching some documentary about American prisons particularly San Quentin State Prison, if you suffered from double incontinence would they still stick you in general housing or some special medical housing unit? Would you have to share a 7ft x 8ft cell with another inmate, could you imagine having to change you dirty nappy in a small space with another person 4 feet away? Would the prison supply all your nappies and wips?