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DAMN!!! I guess my name sucks since it contains references to both my AB side, as well as my love of cars. Well isn't that just a pisser! Good thing i didn't need your approval when i chose it. But wait, what if we had a moderator whose only job is to troll around bitching about everybody's screen name. They'd have no real power, but they'd get the satisfaction of knowing their opinion was heard. Dailydi, I think you should promote darkfinn to name approval moderator. I mean honestly, he's obviously the most qualified for the job.

Well then I guess I'm just lucky my choice of screen name doesn't require your approval, huh?

Darkfinn, Do you wake up every day and think of a new way to be an asshole, or do you have a long list and just check them off as you go?

Rehabilitating Cathy - Part 1 Packed up The appointed day arrived. Cathy's transfer to the Meridon Prison was this morning. The van was due to pick her up at 10AM. She hadn't slept much the night before, wakening after only a couple of hours of sleep and tossing and turning the rest of the night. Breakfast in the mess hall with her regular crew was an out-of-body experience. She knew that she'd likely never see any of them again. She sat down with Amelia at the usual table. She wasn't hungry. Amelia addressed her kindly. "Eat your breakfast, girl. You don't know when you'll get a meal next or what it'll be like." "I'm not very hungry. I didn't sleep much last night and now my stomach feels upset." "Drink your juice. That will make you feel better." Cathy sipped the apple juice. "You're right. I'm not hungry, but I'm definitely thirsty." She drank the rest of it down. "Here, I'll trade you my juice for your bacon. Try to eat some of your oatmeal. That stuff always calms my stomach down when I've got the quivers." "I can't wait to go! My mom and sisters will be able to visit me a lot more often. And Brad will be allowed to visit me, too!" "OK, OK. Keep your pants dry, girl. You'll be there soon enough." After breakfast a matron took Cathy back to her cell alone while the rest of the girls went off to their regular morning routines, some to class and some to the various workshops. In her cell on top of her bunk was a cardboard box. Hanging on from her clothes hook on the wall was a cotton shift. It had wide vertical pink and white stripes. It looked a bit big to Cathy. "Pack whatever you want to take with you in the box," said the matron. "You only get the one box, so anything that doesn't fit you'll have to give to someone here or throw away." "I don't have much stuff. I don't think I'll have a problem." "You'd be surprised. You accumulate a lot of junk in a big hurry." "Whatever. I don't really care." "When you're done packing, take off all of your clothes and dump them in your pail. Put on that dress there. The Meridon folks sent it to us. It's how they want you dressed for the trip." "OK." "I'll come get you in about half an hour. The van called in a while ago and said that they'd be here on time." Cathy went through her meager stash of belongings and packed the cardboard box. The boom box was too big. I'll leave that for Amelia, she thought. She'll like that. Cathy wrote a note to Amelia and put it and the boom box and Amelia's favorite CDs on her bunk where she'd find them that afternoon. She closed the box carried it to the cell door. Then Cathy stripped off her baggy shirt and pants. She took the hanger with the shift on it down from the hook and looked it over. There was a cotton brassiere hanging from the crossbar of the hanger but no panties. I guess the panties fell off somewhere along the way, Cathy thought. I'm sure this joint won't give a damn if I take one of their pairs with me. They're certainly nothing to write home about. She took off her bra and put the new one on. Then she pulled the shift over her head and settled it on her shoulders. The top wasn't too bad, but from the waist downward it was too loose and floppy. And the skirt was far too short for Cathy's comfort, stopping above mid-thigh. She took the discarded clothing over to her cleaning pail and piled them in. She looked at the clock. Five minutes to go. Cathy felt like she had to pee, but when she sat down on the toilet she found that she was too nervous to produce. She pulled her panties back up and settled the skirt back around her hips. She sat down on her bunk and waited. Cathy heard the matron and another woman coming down the long echoing corridor long before they arrived. She couldn't make out what they were saying, but she could tell that the other woman, probably the guard from Meridon sent to transport her, was doing most of the talking. "Here is Cathy Philips," said the matron. "Cathy, this is Miss Martinez from Meridon. She's taking you today." "Glad to meet you," said Cathy. The polite formula sounded silly in the prison context. What is the proper etiquette on being introduced to a new prison guard, Cathy wondered. Martinez was a middle aged woman who could have been someone's maiden aunt. She was plump and comfortable looking, certainly not Cathy's idea of a prison guard. She picked up the cardboard box and hefted it, nodding not approval but acceptance of its weight. She carried a canvas briefcase of some size, like a very large handbag, on a wide strap over her shoulder. She set it down on the bunk and unstrapped the flap. "Just for the record," said Miss Martinez, "are you Catherine Philips?" "I am," said Cathy. "Good," said Miss Martinez. "I have here an identification necklace that I will put around your neck and seal. It will ensure that no mistakes are made." Miss Martinez produced what looked like a long strip of white ribbon. She showed it to Cathy, who read her own name on it, a six-digit identification number, the name of Meridon Prison, and a toll-free telephone number. Miss Martinez reached behind Cathy's neck and wrapped the ribbon around. She removed a piece of white paper and then stuck one end to the other. She tugged experimentally on the ribbon to verify its security. "Cathy," she said, "you understand that in the interests of security you have to be secured for the duration of the transfer, don't you?" "Um. I hadn't thought about it, but yeah, I'm not surprised." "Good," Martinez said, "then we can get this taken care of and be on our way quickly. You're the first pickup I have today, but after here we have four other girls to get. It will be a long day. Turn around, dear, and clasp your hands behind your back. Hold your left elbow in your right hand and your right elbow with your left hand. That's good. No, turn this hand around here a bit." Martinez then wrapped a padded cloth apparatus of some sort around her paired forearms. She tightened several straps which pressed Cathy's arms together firmly but not uncomfortably. Miss Martinez then wrapped the padded material around the upper part of Cathy's arm and tightened some Velcro straps. Cathy wouldn't be able to pull her elbows away from one another and slide them out of the tube that captured her arms. Having her arms pressed behind her straightened her posture and pushed her breasts out. Cathy caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and thought, I should hold my shoulders back like this all the time. I'd drive Brad mad. "Is that comfortable, dear? It doesn't hurt, does it? Does it press or rub anywhere?" Cathy flexed her torso and wriggled her arms about, feeling for friction or pressure. "It's OK, Miss Martinez. It doesn't hurt anywhere." "Good." she said from behind Cathy. "Just stay put for a second." Cathy heard the clinking of the metal buckles on Miss Martinez' satchel as she rummaged for something in it. "Cathy," said Miss Martinez, "this next step will seem a little strange to you. I don't have any choice in this matter. Meridon's rules about transportation of prisoners are very precise. Would you open your mouth, please, dear?" Cathy was astonished. Open her mouth? "Huh?" was all she could manage. "Open your mouth, dear." Cathy's desire to be closer to home struggled briefly with her natural caution. Home won. She opened her mouth. Miss Martinez stepped forward quickly and lowered a jumble of leather over her head and quickly popped a largeish wad of rubbery plastic into her mouth. As her new jailor pulled straps across her cheeks, the matron stepped forward and lifted Cathy's long hair from her shoulders so that Miss Martinez could seat the straps snugly at the nape of Cathy's neck. Cathy felt Miss Martinez tighten the buckles at the back of ner neck. She experimented gingerly with the object that so completely occupied her mouth. It was shaped like a large relatively stiff tongue pointing backward. The wide part was at her lips and the rounded tip was in her mouth. It protruded fairly far in, though not far enough to trigger her gag reflex. It did, however, pin her tongue down quite effectively. There seemed to be a little ridge around it, just behind the lips, that her teeth settled into quite naturally. She tried biting the object to test its consistency. The outer surface was flexible and rubbery without any particularly definable flavor. There was a definite resistance further inside that hinted that there was more to it. With it completely seated in her mouth, her teeth were forced to stay open what felt like about an inch. She wiggled her jaw hinges side to side slightly. It didn't feel like she'd be uncomfortable wearing the thing, though if it held her jaws any further open she had a suspicion that she'd get cramps before long. Cathy tried to say, "wait a minute," but all that came out was a faint, muffled mumble. "That's OK dear. It's designed to be as comfortable as possible. It has some other useful features which I'll introduce you to during our trip today. Now let's just get this attached and you'll look great." At this point Miss Martinez stepped around to stand in front of Cathy. She had piece of pink cloth in her hand which she held up in front of Cathy's eyes. It was a flesh-colored strip with a pair of lips embroidered on its surface. It looked quite realistic. Miss Martinez turned it over to reveal a Velcro backing which she then pressed up against the strap across Cathy's face, which turned out to have matching Velcro on it. After a few seconds of fiddling, Miss Martinez turned away. "Do you have everything that belongs here, Miss Westix?" "One second, I'll check," said the matron. The matron expertly stripped the bed, piling the blankets and the linen on the floor near the cell door. She took Cathy's pail and started taking the clothing from it, dropping them on the pile of linen one piece at a time. "Slacks, shirt, socks, bra, where're the panties? The panties aren't here?" "Did you pack your panties, my dear?" asked Miss Martinez? Cathy shook her head no. "Hmm. I wonder where they are?" Miss Martinez suddenly stepped forward and lifted the hem of Cathy's skirt. "Here they are, Miss Westix. She's got them on. Hold on a second, I'll get them off for you." Miss Martinez pulled Cathy's skirt further up and reached around behind her. She grabbed the elastic at the back of the panties and in one quick motion pulled them down to Cathy's ankles. "Step out of them, dear, please, won't you?" said Miss Martinez. Cathy blushed furiously and shook her head. She grunted in protest. "Let's not get off to a bad start, dear," said Miss Martinez, with the first hint of steel in her voice. "Don't worry about being naked or cold down there. I'll take good care of you." Cathy stepped out of the panties. After all, she reflected, she was bound and gagged. There was little she could actually do, and in any case, she was a sentenced prisoner with virtually no rights to start with. "Very good dear," said Miss Martinez, all warmth again, "Now the final step in preparing you for the trip will seem at first to be a bit of a surprise. Before we go on, I feel that it's best to explain why I need to do this." Cathy was taken aback. More surprising than strapping this big plastic thing in her mouth? Miss Martinez went on, "Back before the prison was privatized and budgets were cut, we didn't do this. But back then each transport team consisted of two matrons like me plus a State Police officer to keep order and provide any necessary security assistance." "Now, however, each transfer is limited to a single matron, that's me, dear, and instead of one or two prisoners per trip we take up to six. Today we have five, four more plus you, to pick up. Because of the long distances and the number of prisoners, we don't have the time to ensure an adequate number of stops along the way." Cathy looked at her expectantly. Miss Martinez seemed to be beating around the bush for a terribly long time. And when would she give her a pair of panties? "Lie down on the bunk here, dear, and lift your legs up," said Miss Martinez. Miss Martinez stood close to her and slightly behind on the right. Cathy sensed the matron moving up to a similar position on her left. Cathy moved forward to the bunk and turned her back to it. She bent her knees and slid her bottom on to the slippery surface that had so recently hosted her sheets and blankets. Lying back was a bit of a challenge with her hands pinioned behind her, but she finally relaxed and flopped back onto the mattress. To Cathy's surprise and dismay, Miss Martinez and Miss Westix then stepped forward and quickly handcuffed her ankles to the siderails of the upper bunk, one on each side. Cathy felt grotesquely spread out, particularly since the short skirt had ridden up during the maneuver, leaving her completely exposed. Miss Martinez then turned away and rummaged in the satchel, which she'd moved to the top of the bunk across the cell when Miss Westix had been checking the inventory. When Miss Martinez turned to face Cathy, she held a bundle of white cloth in her hand. "All right, dear," Miss Martinez said with a friendly smile, "just stay there and we'll get you taken care of lickety-split. Would you lift your bottom up there for a moment, dear?" By now Cathy was beginning to have a notion of what was coming, but she was too astonished, and too limited in options by now, to resist. She flexed her back, transferring her weight to her shoulders and her ankles and lifting her bottom off of the mattress. Miss Martinez quickly put one of the cloth rectangles down on the mattress. She then picked the other up and folded it in half lengthwise and put it down on top of the other one. "OK, let down now, dear." Cathy lowered her bottom to the mattress. As she expected, the thick wad of cloth was centered underneath her bottom. She could feel the top of the cloth more by the transition from its relative warmth to the coolness of the slick mattress surface than from any particular texture. Miss Martinez produced a gob of cold oily cream of some sort from a jar on the other bed and proceeded to rub it in to the skin of Cathy's groin area, front and rear. Then Miss Martinez leaned over Cathy's midriff and reached down between her legs and smoothly pulled the rest of the cloth up and snugly pressed it between her legs. The top came up to Cathy's waist. Miss Martinez then secured the outer pad using Velcro straps that Cathy hadn't noticed before. Miss Martinez turned back to her satchel and returned with another strip of cloth. This one seemed quite thin and about half the width of the large pad at its widest. This one had Velcro strips at each end, which Miss Martinez secured to the waistband of Cathy's new pair of "panties" at the front and back, so that it covered the central part of the cloth entirely. Cathy was puzzled at the purpose of this extra item and she looked inquisitively at Miss Martinez and grunted questioningly. "Oh that, dear? That's just to let me know how you're doing." The explanation didn't mean anything to Cathy, but it was obviously all that she was going to get. Meanwhile Miss Martinez had turned back to the satchel and fetched what looked to Cathy like a crumpled pink rubber glove. "Miss Westix, if you'd oblige me by releasing her inside leg and holding it firmly by the knee?" Miss Westix sat down at the end of the bunk and reached up to the handcuff that secured Cathy's ankle there. She unlocked it with a key that she produced from her pocket and then scooted forward a bit so that she could wrap her arms around Cathy's leg at the thigh. If Cathy had had any thought of using her one free leg to kick or fight, she was certain that it wouldn't do her any good. Miss Martinez shook out the pink object, which turned out to resemble a pair of baby's translucent waterproof plastic pants, but in a size large enough to accommodate her adult female hips plus the extra padding she now wore, and threaded the hanging handcuff and Cathy's ankle through it. She then briskly reconnected the open cuff to the lower bedrail. "OK, Miss Westix, the other leg, if you please." The maneuver was repeated, at the end of which time the plastic pants were draped around Cathy's knees. Miss Martinez reconnected her right ankle handcuff to the same bedrail as that which held Cathy's left ankle, which reduced the spreading of her legs. Meanwhile Miss Westix slid off of the bed and stood up, smoothing out her uniform. Now Miss Martinez sat down on the bunk just below the calfs of Cathy's legs. She quickly worked the plastic pants up her legs and settled them about her hips and thighs. She checked efficiently around each hem, carefully tucking stray bits of cloth inside. Finally Miss Martinez stood up. She dusted off her hands in symbolic show of completion and turned to her satchel, which she repacked and closed up. She turned back and as she put the strap of the satchel over he shoulder, she said to Cathy, "You're ready to travel now, my dear. Miss Westix will unlock your ankles from the bed. We will help you stand up and then we will walk down to the transit station where they'll process your transfer from this prison to my custody for transportation to Meridon. You won't give us any trouble will you? I wouldn't want to have to ask Miss Westix to hobble you or otherwise restrain you, my dear. You've been wonderfully cooperative so far. Will you cooperate now? Nod your head." Cathy, in a daze, nodded. They set off.

Its dragon con time again. It is time venture to the city of Atlanta and see hundreds of storm troopers, feregni, klingon and many more. All just kinda hanging out on peachtree street. Its a sight! Cars tricked out to look like federation star ships. The A.P.D. scratches their head as they see all the fake weapons and toy guns. I have no idea how they do there job during this event. Some young ladies show up wearing nothing but a few strips of duct tape. yes its just a comic book festival but I go for the side shows. Anyone else attending?

Many, many times I've read threads that start out "I'm finally going to tell my wife". What can I say? It seems that so many people are afraid of honesty, they're blind to the other person in the relationships feelings, and really showing them the worst kind of disrespect. This callous disregard for them is NOT the way to behave towards someone you supposedly love so much! Two years into a marriage is NOT the time to say "oh, by the way....", If you really love someone then you HAVE to respect them. It means you owe them the truth from the very start of the time you start thinking that they might be the one you want to share your life with. Before you even think of buying a ring you MUST disclose all of your secrets, period. You have to realize that we, as diaper lovers or adult babies, are not what the mainstream of our society consider "normal". As far as a lot of them go we are pretty out there, or extremely perverted (in some people's minds). Some of us are, if you take a realistic view of some in our community. I mean anyone who thinks that girls want to feed them, dress them, keep them in diapers 24/7, and not mind changing their messy diapers, is basically a nut, but they can be found on this site. If you truly love and respect your partner you have a responsibility to tell them about your fetish. I don't mean that you just say "I like to wear diapers sometimes", but to really tell them about it. Whether you are AB and want them to baby you some times, if you want to be babied a lot, if you like to wet, or mess, I mean EVERYTHING!! There is no way that you can fail to do this if you truly love your partner, it is what you owe them if they truly are the one who you love. If you cannot do this then you are not ready to propose to them, let alone marry them. Honesty is not the best policy, it's the ONLY policy here, DO NOT LIE TO THEM BY KEEPING THIS LITTLE "SECRET" TO YOURSELF!! I know that it is hard to talk about something you've kept hidden from everybody else all you life, but you must break that silence if you really love them. It might be that they are not able to accept this about you, but better to know now than after you've trapped someone in a marriage where they suddenly feel betrayed. If you do this to someone they have every right to feel betrayed by you! That could very quickly end your marriage in one UGLY divorce!! Sit down and talk to them, let them know that this is hard for you to talk about, but you have to tell them because to keep it a secret would be wrong, (it would in fact be worse than lying to them). If both of you are truly in love they might just say "well that's different, but it doesn't change how I feel about you". They may even like the idea enough to want to participate. That's a long shot there, but you never know. The point is you have to be upfront and honest from the start. It might be the end of the relationship, but better to know now than to have both of your feeling mangled in a bitter divorce. You are the only one who can pick who you want to open up to when you're in a relationship, but if you think that the relationship is really going to go somewhere you are obligated to out yourself. It's the decent and right thing to do. Peace, Vic

His mom treating him even younger by using a sippy cup and the word mommy doesnt help his situation much. lol.

Of all the things to bitch about, you're gonna bitch about peoples screen names? Seriously?

Rehabilitating Cathy - Part 3 Dead skunk in the middle of the road It was mid-afternoon. Cathy had almost forgotten the damp feeling clinging to her loins. Across the van from her she could see two blue stripes bisecting two diapers. She wondered if Mary, off to her left, was exhibiting the blue stripe as well. By now Tamara's stripe had extended upward until it disappared under the waistband of her plastic panties. The moisture had had time to soak upward, against the pull of gravity. Suddenly Cathy sensed a change in the rhythm of the van. They were slowing down. They were approaching an exit. This is the last stop before we get to Meridon, thought Cathy. Thank goodness! I can't wait to get out of these fucking diapers. After the usual interminable delays, Miss Martinez opened the rear doors of the van and entered with a slender blonde girl. She was bound in the usual way and her mouth sported the same flesh-colored cloth disguise as all of theirs. Cathy guessed that she was diapered, though she couldn't see anything from her vantage point. All of the girls looked curiously at the new arrival. "Girls, this is Denise. She's a shoplifter whose behavior at her current prison made her unwelcome. Denise, please meet Tamara, Linda, Cathy, and Mary." Instead of stepping out of the back of the van after securing Denise in the seat to Mary's left, however, Miss Martinez moved forward, stopping in front of Linda. She tested each of Linda's bindings, nodding her head in satisfaction at their firmness. She pulled Linda's skirt up and examined the blue stripe that bisected her crotch from top to bottom. Her last action was to press the back of her hand against the crotch of Linda's diaper, as if to feel her temperature. "Very good, Linda. Comfy now?" Miss Martinez then turned to Cathy and treated her to the same examination, including taking the temperature of her diaper. After completing her inspections of Tamara and Mary, Miss Martinez then addressed them all. "Well, girls, I think it's time for a sip of something to drink, don't you?" Cathy perked up at the prospect of having her gag removed, even if for only a few minutes, to take a drink. I hope it's cool, she thought. Miss Martinez busied herself with a cooler mounted on the floor of the van just behind the front passenger's seat and off to Cathy's right. From it she extracted what looked like a plump balloon. This she hung from a hook in the center of the ceiling of the van. She turned back to the cooler and returned with what turned out to be a long plastic or rubber tube. Miss Martinez attached one end of the tube to a fitting on the balloon and then turned to Cathy with the other end in her hand. "Open wide, my dear," said Miss Martinez with a chuckle. The end of the tube seemed to have a thin metal fitting on it. This fitting she pressed against the middle of Cathy's gag. What's she doing, thought Cathy? The metal fitting found a small hole between the embroidered lips and slid into a matching receptacle in Cathy's gag. Cathy felt more than heard a metallic click as Miss Martinez seated the tube home with a twist of her hand. Suddenly Cathy felt her mouth begin to fill up with a slightly sweet fluid. It was seeping out of holes all over the gag! Cathy's mouth filled up and she was forced to swallow a mouthful of the fluid. Her mouth started to fill up again. She stared at the balloon. It didn't seem any smaller. It must hold at least a quart, Cathy thought in despair. If I drink all of that, I'll have to pee again. In short order each of the other four girls was hooked up to her own bulging balloon. The sight of the working jaws as the girls drank the fluid down suddenly struck Cathy as terribly funny. As they got under way, Miss Martinez addressed her captive audience, "Enjoy your refreshments, girls. What you're drinking is basically just water, but it has some sugar and salt added to make it match the electrolyte balance of your bodies better. What that means is that your stomach absorbs it more quickly. It's like Gatorade. Plus a little diuretic and a tiny bit of laxative." Oh, great, Cathy thought. More fluids. Well, the diaper's already wet. Anyway, if I leak, it's her problem, she thought rebelliously. The next eternity dragged slowly for Cathy. She couldn't tell how much time had gone by, but they had passed six exits from the Interstate when Tamara began to act agitated. She strained her limbs fruitlessly at the straps that welded her to the large padded chair. She turned her head this way and that. She made muffled grunting sounds through her gag. Suddenly Cathy realized that Tamara was flexing her thighs and calves with all of her might. Cathy could see the individual muscles of her calves standing out, and the tendons above her knees were quite distinct. The tremendous force moved her torso up an inch or so in the chair. Cathy realized that Tamara had managed to raise her bottom off of the seat almost entirely. The other four girls were now thoroughly alarmed at Tamara's behavior. I hope she's not having a seizure, thought Cathy. All four of them began thrashing around and grunting through their gags in an effort to attract Miss Martinez' attention. Miss Martinez glanced back in her rear-view mirror. Instead of slowing down and pulling over, however, she gave an amused chuckle. "Don't worry about Tamara, girls, she'll be just fine. I've seen this many times before. She's either just soiled herself or is about to soil herself. It'll be over in a minute or two, you'll see." Cathy stared in horrified fascination at Tamara. Her heaving breast indicated the rapidity and depth of her breathing. Her face was red with exertion and glistened with perspiration. She seemed to be flexing her lower abdomen as she strained her legs and grunted rhythmically through her gag. As quickly as it had started, it was over. Tamara suddenly slumped in her seat, her eyes closing and all of the fight draining out of her. Shortly afterward Cathy's sensitive nose caught a whiff of confirmation of Miss Martinez' prediction. Tears ran down Tamara's cheeks as she wept silently. Two exits later they were treated to a repeat performance as Denise messed her pants. Having witnessed Tamara's humiliation, this one didn't provoke nearly the alarm in the other girls as had the first one. Miss Martinez adjusted the vents in the dashboard of the van. "It's getting a bit close in here, isn't it girls? I remember one time two or three years ago when I had a full van and all six of them messed before we got to Meridon. It was so smelly in here that I had to open the windows up front, even though it was the dead of winter and way below freezing outside. But that was before we began recommending that transfer candidates not be fed on the day they are shipped. Now we've gotten it down to where no more than half of you girls arrive with dirty pants." Oh no, Cathy thought to herself. I ate breakfast this morning. And oatmeal, too. Now that she noticed it, she did have that feeling deep inside her that usually preceded a bowel movement. Oh, shit, in more ways than one, she thought. At the next exit Miss Martinez turned the van off of the Interstate. At the bottom of the ramp she pulled into a gas station and drove up to a full service pump. "This van is very powerful girls," Miss Martinez said to them as she unbuckled her seat belt and stepped out of the door, "it'll pass anything on the road except a gas station." With that, she closed and locked the door of the van. She spoke to the attendant, who moved to the rear of the van with his nozzle as Miss Martinez walked over to the service station and, Cathy presumed, its bathrooms. When Miss Martinez returned to the van, she didn't immediately drive away. Instead she moved the van over to the side of the service station where there were some parking spots. She came back to where the girls sat and inspected them. As before, she shook all of the straps. She took the temperature of each girl's diapered crotch with the back of her hand. And she lowered her head to about bust-height over each girl's lap and sniffed. Well, thought Cathy, if anyone soiled herself without making a fuss, Miss Martinez knows her secret now. They hadn't been back on the road long when Miss Martinez picked up the handset of a cellphone mounted between the driver's and passenger's seats. She pressed a button and held the handset to her ear. "Jane? Hi, it's me. I've got them all. No problems, though those dopes in Andersonville wouldn't let me dress Tamara Cousins properly. No, she's packed properly, but she's in her own clothes. I don't know what happened to the dress. Maybe Warden can call the courthouse and ask what they did with it." She listened for a few seconds. "Five blue and two brown, so far." Another pause. "No, no troublemakers. A normal cleanup crew will do, I think." "We're at mile 178, so we'll be at the gate in less than half an hour. See you soon." Hello, Dolly Not long afer the phone call, Miss Martinez turned the van off the Interstate at an otherwise undistinguished exit. "Meridon Road" said the big green sign. The service board didn't show any of the cute little icons to indicate the presence of motels, gas stations, shopping malls, or other necessities of life. The landscape was low rolling hills, partially wooded. The areas that weren't wooded seemed to be pasture land. Cathy didn't see any orderly rows of crops or other indications of agriculture. At the bottom of the offramp the van turned left, passing back under the highway and off into the woods beyond. After no more than a couple of minutes, the left side of the road opened up. Wide fields covered with mown grass extended from the side of the road to a high chain link fence that paralleled the road some distance from it. After a while they turned left onto a long straight gravel driveway that took them to a stone gatehouse. Miss Martinez pulled the van up in front of the gate, set the parking brake, and got out of the van. This time she left the engine running and didn't close, much less lock, the door of the van. A short thickset man with grey hair came out of the gatehouse. "Hello, Maria," he said. "Hello, Ziggy," she replied, "how are you today?" "Just fine, Maria. How was your trip?" "It was OK. No more than the usual problems with the petty bureaucrats. This batch of girls seems reasonably well behaved." "That's good. They're expecting you inside. They've got a reception team waiting in the intake center. Go right up." "Great. Thanks." Miss Martinez returned to the van, shutting the door. Ziggy went back into the gatehouse and a moment later the big chain-link panel began to roll slowly to the side, clearing the way for the van to proceed inside. After passing yet another gate, this time without getting out for a conversation, they drove for what seemed to be quite some time before coming up to a cluster of grey stone buildings on the top of a low rise commanding a view of spreading fields in all directions. Off in one direction Cathy could see what looked like a soccer field in the distance. She could see a surprising number of tiny figures on and around the field. Some seemed to be running around on the field, presumably chasing a ball that she couldn't make out. Others were clustered in groups around the sidelines, seemingly waiting their turns to play or possibly just spectating. That looks like fun, thought Cathy. I haven't played soccer since High School. Miss Martinez pulled the van up in front of one of the stone buildings. She got out, closing, but not locking it, and went to the door. While Cathy waited she noticed that her bladder was now again quite full, thanks to the "refreshment" to which she'd been treated earlier. Feeling the wetness of her entire diaper, Cathy decided to relieve herself immediately rather than wait to be released. Who knows when I'll get a chance to use a bathroom next, thought Cathy, as she relaxed and flooded her diaper. The rush of new pee seemed to spread through her now-wet diaper much more rapidly than the first time, when it was dry. She felt the heat of the fresh pee spreading downward and backward up the soaking seat of her diaper, warming her bottom, and upward, warming her crotch and the lower edge of her firm belly. Her heightened senses registered the texture of the wet cloth against her most sensitive areas and she tensed her thigh muscles to increase the sensation. The slight motion of the muscles of her inner thighs caused the slightest friction between her soft tender skin and the plastic of her waterproof panties, which stimulated her more. Unfortunately, she couldn't manage to stimulate herself any more than that, so the heights of sensation that she'd reached at her first wetting remained unattainable. The door opened and Miss Martinez emerged, trailed by a number of other women, all dressed alike in lemon-yellow jumpsuits. Cathy counted four, counting Miss Martinez. I wonder how they're going to control five convicted prisoners, she thought. Cathy wasn't destined to wonder for long. Miss Martinez opened the rear doors of the van and stepped up, followed by one of the yellow-suited women. Miss Martinez and the woman in yellow unstrapped Denise and, grasping her by her shoulders and forearms, frogmarched her to the rear of the van, where they transferred her to the waiting arms of the women standing below. Mary followed her out into the afternoon air. As the yellow-clad matron started to work on the straps on Cathy's right side, Miss Martinez started on her left. Strong arms lifted her from the seat and glided her swiftly to the rear doors of the van. She blinked in the glare of the sun as her eyes accustomed themselves to the light after the dim interior of the van. Two of the yellow guards stood on either side of her, grasping her forearms gently. The third guard came around from the side of the van that had been behind Cathy only moments before. In her hands she carried what looked to Cathy like a furniture movers dolly, a rectangular wooden board, padded on top, with large gray plastic wheels on the bottom. The third guard placed the padded side of the dolly up against Cathy's calves, where it extended from just above her ankles to just below her knees. The guard knelt down on one knee and quickly fastened two broad straps from the both sides of the dolly, firmly attaching Cathy's calves to the top of the dolly. The kneeling woman rose and nodded, at which point the guard on Cathy's left put her hand firmly on Cathy's thickly diapered bottom and pushed her forward. Not understanding what was happening, but not able to resist, Cathy's knees folded and the dolly lowered gently to the ground. She was kneeling on it. Next a strap was led from the back of the dolly up and inside of her bound arms and snugged down and fastened back to itself. This had the effect of keeping Cathy from rising from the dolly, though she could still adjust her position somewhat by flexing her knees and hips and sitting up higher or down lower. Finally, a strap was hooked on to a ring at one rear corner of the dolly and led across her lap and around to the other rear corner. When this was snugged down, the rear of Cathy's diaper was pressed firmly into her heels. This reminder of her wetness wasn't terribly welcome. Well, she thought, as the guards pushed her by her shoulders around to the side of the van, I'm glad I'm not Denise or Tamara. If I had a load of poop in there, I'd be really miserable now. The guards left her next to the other two girls, identically bound to dollies and lined up along the side of the van. In short order Linda and Tamara joined them, each neatly and securely attached to a dolly. Transfer to the intake center was uneventful and soon Cathy found herself parked with the other four girls in a neat line along the side of an interior corridor, facing a grey-painted cinderblock wall. She strained her head from side to side in an attempt to get a view of her surroundings, but all she got was an impression of a grey door with a glass panel in it across the hall. After a while a woman came by and went down the line of girls examining each one's identity necklace and calling off the names and numbers to someone else whom Cathy couldn't see. Hurry up and wait, Cathy thought. I wish they'd untie me and let me get out of this wet diaper and into normal clothes. I'm tired and hungry and I'd be happy to lie down in my new cell and go to sleep. Over to her left a muffled disturbance told her that one of the girls, she thought it was Mary, was losing her battle with her bowels. In the silence of the corridor Cathy could hear Mary's desperate puffing and grunting as she approached the crisis. Cathy heard a long muffled fart followed by an indiscribable sound and a shrill moan of despair as she filled the seat of her diaper. If I don't concentrate, thought Cathy, I'll be filling my own diaper in about five minutes. Finally some action. A woman in a yellow guard's jumpsuit came out of the door across the hall. She went down the row of girls looking at the ID necklaces until she came to Linda. She pulled Linda's shoulders slid her dolly out from the row and across the hall into the open door, which closed behind them. What seemed to Cathy several years later the woman reemerged, returning pushing Mary. More time passed. Cathy imagined what went on in the room behind the door. She imagined that Mary would be undressed and undiapered. She would be taken to a shower where a warm soft rain of water would clean her off completely, removing everything, almost even the memory of soiling in her diaper. A fresh set of clothing would follow, normal clothing including soft cotton panties and comfortable shoes. Then a tour of the prison and a trip to her new cell and a soft bed and sleep.

Personally I wouldn't say anyone was 'consumed' by diapers simply because they choose to leave their house wearing one, I think that might be a tad harsh. Maybe it is kooky - but really what about ABDL isn't - not exactly the most mainstream of activities now is it? Besides its not like anyone said they cart them around everywhere, all the time. Me for instance - sometimes I decide it is a diaper day and I still want to do, you know, stuff. Sitting around your house in diaper for a diapers sake is kinda boring. Besides sometimes you have weekend errands, or a movie to catch, or something else you want to do. So unless you are suggesting I should run home to change regardless of where I am at, then the only logical solution is to take some diapers with me. Take my post above about going to a theme park - you would need to take diapers with you then? Just my .02

what i was saying is that... the issue probably wasn't that he wore diapers, but the issue rested entirely with his WIFE and her issues with him wearing diapers.. therefore the therapist could do nothing to help a marriage when the issue and the person with the issue is not present.... the therapist may have realized that the wife was just using the person's diaper wearing as an excuse and thus could not do much to help the marriage without the other party who had the issue, in this case the wife, willing to admit SHE has the problem, not him...

Granted. You know what to wish for, but you become stunned and never recite your wish. Since Wishes are not granted without being recited, your wish is not granted. I wish that wishes granted upon blowing out candles on a birthday cake would always come true.

I'm with you duck! We bigger kids rule - even if we can't always keep our pants dry I like being old enough to know I shouldn't still be in diapers, but thats just me. I like my bike and video games and legos and pizza and staying up late, all the things the little ones can't do More power to the playpen set - you keep your rattles and bottles. I don't need none of that baby stuff. Except maybe this bear, but thats it, just this bear... and maybe my sippy cup. But that's it. Just this bear and this sippy cup. Ohhhh is that a puppy?

I don't see why this post required a hairy crotch shot.

Specifically, it's about 5:30 in the morning when my screaming bladder wakes me up and I remember I am wearing a diaper and plastic pants and can just let go and then go back to dreamland. Another favorite time is when I'm caught in a traffic back-up, bumper to bumper and no end in sight. Tonight is the home HS football opener against an arch rival, and I sure do not want to miss any of the game. HAPPINESS IS WEARING COTTON DIAPERS

I have also went to counciling the first time to save my marrige .Funny thing was every therapist that i saw either did not care or really could not help me .This lack of insight or soluotion to my problem made my wife think i was lying or not being honest with the therapist, my marrige also ended .The second time was for my own personal demons .Theses sessions worked fairly well but i still wear diapers

Rehabilitating Cathy - Part 2 The blue oval Miss Westix radioed to the control center that they were ready to depart. While they waited for the remote control door lock to be released, Cathy caught a glimpse of herself in the cell mirror that had been the focus of all of her vanity for the last three-and-a-half months. It was astonishing. The flesh-colored applique across her mouth and the baggy dress disguised everything. She looked for all the world like she was on her way for a stroll in the park. A loud click, and the cell door opened a few inches. Miss Westix pushed it open and stood to the side holding it for Cathy and Miss Martinez. As they walked down the corridor to the transit station, Cathy was acutely aware of the thick wad of cloth between her legs. It rubbed her most sensitive areas in a sensual way as her legs moved back and forth. She felt the slick softness of the plastic pants against the sensitive skin of the inside of her thighs. This is stimulating, she thought. I better not start liking it. They got to the transit station and Miss Westix motioned for Cathy to sit down in a chair. Miss Martinez and Miss Westix then conferred with two women at the counter of the control center. Miss Martinez showed them several documents on a clipboard that she produced from an outer pocket of her satchel. The four women examined the papers and looked across the room at Cathy. One of the control center staff, a tall thin woman with brown hair, turned to her computer and typed something there. She then said something to Miss Martinez and picked up a telephone and dialed. The thin woman spoke on the phone, clearly asking and answering questions, some of which she relayed to Miss Martinez and Miss Westix. She glanced over at Cathy and away and then glanced quickly back. Cathy's heart raced for a moment. What was going on? During the next half hour, while the women seemed to be conducting some sort of complex discussion on the phone, the thin woman glanced frequently over at Cathy. Suddenly Cathy realized that she was sitting facing straight at the thin woman and that her short skirt couldn't hide the bulky swaddling around her loins. She pressed her knees together in an attempt at modesty, though the bulky material between her thighs made this uncomfortable to sustain for any length of time. Finally the thin woman nodded her head at something that someone on the phone said and turned to Miss Martinez and nodded at her. She hung up the phone and rummaged in her desk, from which she produced a paper form, which she laboriously filled out, referring repeatedly to Miss Martinez' clipboard and to her own computer terminal. She signed the form, as did Miss Martinez and Miss Westix. She tore one of the carbon copies off and gave it to Miss Martinez, who stuck it into the pile on her clipboard. Martinez returned the clipboard to her satchel and then Miss Martinez and the fourth woman, a sturdy blonde who looked like she worked out with weights, turned to Cathy. "All set, dear," said Miss Martinez. "All of the paperwork is in order and we're ready to go. Come along." Cathy tried to stand up from the chair. Between the imbalance caused by having her hands strapped behind her and the lack of friction between her plastic pants and the smooth plastic surface of the chair, she had trouble getting up. Miss Martinez stepped forward and put one hand on Cathy's shoulder and one at the small of her back and helped her stand up, stabilizing her as she gained her balance. As Miss Martinez let go of her, Cathy was almost certain that she'd patted Cathy's padded bottom. When they emerged to the parking lot and the midmorning sunshine, Cathy blinked her eyes at the sudden unexpected brightness. As her eyes adjusted to the light, Miss Martinez and the matron led her over to a large heavy looking brown van. The van had no markings on the doors or sides that Cathy could see, though it did have what looked like an official license plate. The windows were made of darkened glass and she couldn't see inside. Miss Martinez unlocked the rear of the van, swinging both of the doors open wide. Cathy looked inside apprehensively. The space inside the van held six large chairs, three on each side facing each other. The chairs looked large and comfortable. "Up you go, my dear," said Miss Martinez. Cathy put one foot up on the floor of the van and shifted her weight forward. Miss Martinez helped her up, placing her large hand square in the middle of Cathy's padded bottom and pushing. She hopped up into the van herself while the blonde matron stood alertly at the doorway. Miss Martinez led Cathy forward to the frontmost chair on the right side of the van. "Just turn a bit and sit back, dear. That's good. Now just let me get you settled in snugly and we'll be on our way." She pushed Cathy back into the chair, which, she realized, had an extra recess in the back to reduce the pressure on her arms. Amazing, Cathy thought to herself, these chairs are custom made just for carrying people with their hands strapped in back of them like this. Miss Martinez busied herself with a collection of straps. One across Cathy's waist, another X-shaped pair across her chest, and two pairs that secured her legs to the chair. When Miss Martinez was done Cathy was comfortable but absolutely incapable of getting out of the chair. I hope we don't have an accident, Cathy thought to herself. Miss Martinez quickly checked each strap for snugness. As she turned away, she reached down casually with her left hand and patted Cathy's padded crotch. "All set, my dear." Miss Martinez stepped down from the rear of the van. She closed and locked the doors. Cathy watched through the smoked glass windows as Miss Martinez and the sturdy woman talked together. It looked like Miss Martinez was checking her directions. Both women spent some time looking at a map that Miss Martinez produced from her satchel. Finally, Miss Martinez waved at the blonde guard and walked around the van to the driver's door. As they waited for the outer cast-iron gate to be wheeled aside so that they could get on their way, Miss Martinez said to Cathy, "I wish they didn't require the gags on you girls, my dear. Driving these long distances would be much more fun if we could chat. But I'm sure they know what they're doing. If I had six of you and you were all shouting and cursing, I'm sure I'd wish you were all gagged." She turned the van out on to the two-lane highway passing in front of the prison. In about ten minutes she approached the intersection of the Interstate highway. She turned in to a large filling station just before the onramp. "Just a quick pit stop, my dear, and we'll be on the road," said Miss Martinez. She got out of the van and locked the front door. She spoke to the attendant when he came over. He pointed over to the side of the garage and Miss Martinez started walking in that direction while he moved to the pump and began to fill the van with gasoline. After five or ten minutes Miss Martinez returned. She paid the attendant, unlocked the van, and got in. As she started the engine and steered the van to the onramp, she turned momentarily to Cathy and said kindly, "Don't worry about anything, dear. We'll be on the road for about an hour and a half. If you need to go, just go ahead. Those diapers you have on will protect you just fine. They'd keep an elephant dry, my dear, and I don't think your bladder has that much capacity, do you?" By the time they turned off the Interstate Cathy was thoroughly bored. Miss Martinez' conversational stream had run down within half an hour of starting out. Cathy would have been glad to talk with her, but the gag that inhabited her mouth was distinctly intolerant of speech. Miss Martinez maneuvered the van along a road that crossed the Interstate for several miles. Cathy saw a long razor wire fence along the side of the road off to the left quite some time before they drew up to a brick gatehouse and a forbidding set of iron gates. Miss Martinez pulled up in front of the gatehouse and got out of the van, locking it behind her with Cathy inside. I guess she isn't worried that I'll trash the van, thought Cathy wryly. Her captor disappeared inside of the gatehouse, though Cathy caught a glimpse of her through the window that gave on to the verge of the road in front of the gate. After what seemed to Cathy like an interminable wait, Miss Martinez and a trim sandy-haired middle-aged man emerged from the gatehouse. Miss Martinez got back into the van and the man waved at her as the gate opened and they drove into the grounds of this, to Cathy, nameless prison. "We won't be here too long, dear," said Miss Martinez. There are two girls here waiting to be transported to Meridon, but I've worked with the staff here before and they're used to the routine, so the girls will be ready. We won't spend as much time here as we did getting you ready. Did you know that you're the first girl from your old place ever to transfer to Meridon?" Cathy waited in the locked van while Miss Martinez, carrying her satchel over her rounded shoulder, disappeared into the prison. There was nothing to see. Not a bird, not a tree, not a dog or a cat. Nothing. She peered out in each of the three directions that she could see, but nothing moved. Boredom. She began to pay attention to her body and her immediate surroundings. She flexed each limb in turn and wriggled her legs and her torso. Nothing gave. She tried biting into her gag, but it hadn't changed at all. She tried making the loudest sound she could, which disappointed her by being a nasal whine. She tried pulling her elbows apart, but the padded apparatus that secured them to one another behind her back was completely secure. Finally she relaxed her body and tried to fall asleep. She was running as fast as she could. She was still three blocks from home and breathing hard. She ran and ran and ran. When she got to Sunset Highway, the light was red. She stopped and waited impatiently for the light to change. She shifted her weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other and back again. Why wouldn't the damn light change? She had to get home now. Suddenly Cathy woke up. I wonder how long I was asleep, she mused. She looked around, but nothing had changed. She couldn't tell if the angle of the shadows had changed, but she didn't know if that was because the sun hadn't moved or because she hadn't noticed the angle before she dozed off. Vaguely Cathy became aware that the seat of her anxiety was centered somewhere in her lower half. She tried to focus on the sensation. I have to pee, she thought. Damn! Where is Miss Martinez, she thought. At least we're here at this place ... I'm sure that they have enough guards to escort me to the john. I'm glad the urge hit me here. With the awareness of her need came increased urgency, but the surrounding terrain remained still and oblivious. Cathy sucked on her gag in frustration. After what seemed like an eternity, the door into which Miss Martinez had entered last year opened and a positive troop of people emerged into the bright light. Miss Martinez led the way to the van and as they walked Cathy resolved them into six individuals. Two were young women in short cotton shifts with vertical pink and white stripes. Their hands weren't visible, but Cathy was sure that they were strapped behind their backs. Each girl was flanked by a pair of matrons dressed in olive green uniform fatigues. Cathy couldn't tell if the two prisoners were diapered as she was, but the skirts did look bigger than they needed to be for the slimness of the girls' thighs and calfs. Cathy watched the little procession approach the van until it disappeared behind her. She felt the van vibrate as Miss Martinez opened the back doors. The rush of cool air reminded Cathy of how close the inside of the van had become and she welcomed the fresh air with deep breaths, completely forgetting the increasing pressure between her legs in the confusion of the moment. Miss Martinez steered the first girl to the seat opposite Cathy and pushed her back into it. Briskly she strapped her in and then turned to Cathy. "Cathy, this is Linda," she said, pointing. "Linda, this is Cathy. You are both from the same college, did you know each other?" Linda had long blonde hair that hung straight down her shoulders, ending just above her breasts. Linda's legs were long and slim and she seemed tall. Looks like a model to me, thought Cathy. Cathy looked curiously at Linda's crotch. The front of the skirt was hanging partway down, so Cathy couldn't be absolutely certain, but she was pretty sure that Linda was diapered. She certainly had pink panties on, in any case, and they looked suspiciously bulgy and shiny. Cathy peered at Linda's face, but didn't recognize her. She couldn't be absolutely certain, since her mouth was covered and the shape of her cheeks were distorted by the strap and its coy pink covering, but Linda was certainly not one of the girls that Cathy knew well. There are over 15,000 other girls at the college, Cathy reasoned to herself. No reason that I should know her. And she might not even be my year, for that matter. Next, Miss Martinez positioned the second girl in front of the seat to Cathy's left, on the same side of the van. She made quick work of strapping her in. Cathy looked over her shoulder at the newest girl, who had flowing curly hair of a luxurious auburn color. The new girl wasn't as tall as Linda, and perhaps it was a trick of the angle, but to Cathy she seemed to be quite well endowed. If Linda's boyfriend is a leg man, Cathy thought, then this girl's beau must be a tit man. The new girl's mouth was covered by the same cloth strip that covered Linda's and that she knew covered her own. I presume there's a gag under there, thought Cathy. Surprise me. The short skirt of the cotton dress had ridden up quite far on this girl and there was no doubt that she was heavily diapered. Her plastic pants were the same translucent pink as Cathy's own. That makes three, thought Cathy. "Mary, this is Cathy. Cathy, Mary. Cathy, Linda and Mary know each other. They were cellmates for the last month, once their transfer to Meridon was arranged." Introductions over, the three girls settled down to get acquainted. The conversation, for some reason, was extremely slow in getting started. Too bad about the gags, thought Cathy. Miss Martinez stepped out of the back of the van and shut and locked the doors. She stood talking with one of the olive-drab guards while the other three straggled back to the door, where they stood under the shade of an overhang looking back at their colleague. Finally Miss Martinez started around the van toward the driver's door and the fourth guard headed for the door. As the van turned out of the prison onto the road, Cathy remembered her bulging bladder. OhMyGod, she thought, I didn't get a chance to go to the bathroom. I wonder how long it will be to the next stop. Miss Martinez might as well have been a mind reader. As they turned on to the Interstate and merged with the fast flowing traffic, she said to her rapt audience, "Not too long to the next stop, girls. This one may be a bit of a challenge, however, because we'll be picking up a girl who will just have been sentenced and she won't have had any time to prepare herself for the trip to Meridon. The folks at the courthouse have dealt with us before, so I don't expect any trouble, but there may be some delay." By the time they turned off the Interstate again, Cathy was squirming. She tried closing her legs to increase the pressure on her bladder and hold it back, but the straps kept her legs indecently spread. The sensation from her urinary sphincter was a burning pain that became the entire focus of her consciousness. She noticed Linda looking at her, but she couldn't tell if the other girl was curious, amused, sympathetic, or bored. The van drove past the front of the courthouse and turned in to an enclosed loading dock area just around the corner from the front of the building. Miss Martinez got out of the van and locked her door, as Cathy realized she always did. She stood near the van, however, until a lean man in a State Police uniform carrying a clipboard approached her. They talked for a few minutes, and then the lean man lifted a walkie talkie from his belt and spoke into it. A few minutes later three people emerged from the double doors in the center of the wall above the loading dock. One was another State Police officer, this one much stockier than his colleague. The other two were women, one in the uniform of the State Police and the other, a much younger woman, in a blouse and a tweed skirt. The girl had her hands cuffed behind her and had obviously been crying. Miss Martinez rushed over to the trio. Cathy couldn't follow what was going on terribly well, but Miss Martinez clearly wanted them to move the girl indoors where, presumably, she could dress her in the pink and white striped dress and all of its concomitant goodies. The two State Police officers rejected Miss Martinez' demands, nodding their heads with finality. The woman pointed at the girl's skirt and waved her other arm. Miss Martinez shook her head firmly. Finally, after much back and forth discussion, it seemed that a compromise had emerged. Miss Martinez put her satchel down on the ground and took out one of the padded cloth arm binders. The two State Police officers gripped the girl by the arms and Miss Martinez stepped behind her and busied herself with the straps. Then Miss Martinez fetched a jumble of straps from her satchel and the male policeman stepped up behind the girl and gripped the sides of her jaw. Cathy heard a sharp shriek, quickly cut off, and the next thing she saw was Miss Martinez putting the final adjustments to the gag straps while the girl tried to shake her head from side to side, as the policewoman tried to hold her head steady. At this point Miss Martinez gathered up her satchel and darted to the back of the van, which she quickly opened. The two State Police officers manhandled the girl, still making quiet keening noises and visibly weeping, up to the floor of the van, where she collapsed on her knees. Cathy stared intently, wondering how Miss Martinez was going to handle this situation. Miss Martinez kneeled down next to the crying girl and spoke quietly and intensely to her. The girl shook her head and turned away from Miss Martinez. The next thing Cathy knew, Miss Martinez had grasped the girl firmly, placing her left hand on the girl's shoulder and reaching down behind her with her right hand. Cathy couldn't see Miss Martinez's right hand, but from the angle she could tell that Miss Martinez' hand was somewhere near the girl's bottom. The girl's head jerked up as if she'd been tugged by a rope. She came up off of the floor in a rush, almost hitting her head on the roof of the van. As the girl turned toward the seat next to Linda, Cathy could see what was propelling her. Miss Martinez' right hand was underneath the girl's skirt, pressing upward forcefully. Once the new girl was settled in her seat and securely strapped in, Miss Martinez stopped for a moment, seemed to take a deep breath, and then turned to the other girls and said to them, "Girls, this is Tamara. Tamara, these are Linda, Cathy, and Mary," pointing to each one in turn. As Miss Martinez closed and locked the back doors of the van and got settled in the driver's seat, the other three girls assessed the new arrival. Tamara was dressed in a pretty white blouse trimmed in lace, somewhat disheveled. Her short tweed skirt was practically around her waist, revealing bulging pink plastic pants that obviously covered the regulation issue diapers. By the time they reached the onramp to the Interstate, Miss Martinez had calmed down and was chatting quite companionably to the four silent girls. "All right, girls, we're on the way. One more stop, where we will pick up our last passenger, and then a couple more hours and we'll arrive at your new home." "Tamara, I'm quite disappointed at your courthouse staff, I must say. The last time I picked up a girl from there, they were wonderful. They provided us with a changing room where we could get her packed and we had a simply charming departure. Today it was a total disaster. They clearly didn't read the packing instructions carefully. They diapered you properly, at least I hope they did, but they didn't do any of the rest of it at all. I can't imagine what they did with the dress." By now Cathy's need to pee had returned with a vengeance. The excitement surrounding Tamara's arrival had distracted her from her plan to attract Miss Martinez' attention, and she had lost the moment again. She didn't know if she could hold on much longer. The burning pain between her legs now occupied her entire consciousness. Cathy began to lash her head from side to side, moaning as she did so. The other girls watched in fascinated horror, unable to help and unsure of the problem. At a pause in her monologue, Miss Martinez noticed Cathy's distress. "Cathy? Are you all right?" A vigorous negative shake of the head. "What's the problem, dear?" Cathy stared. She made her attempt at speech, producing the muffled grunting that she'd grown used to in the hours of her confinement. "I'll bet you have to pee, don't you, my dear?" Cathy nodded. Miss Martinez caught the vigorous motion in the wide curved rearview mirror. "Don't worry, dear. You won't leak. Just go ahead and do what comes naturally. I told you when we packed you that we didn't have the staff to provide adequate rest stops. Given how long you've been done up, I'm surprised you aren't wet already, to tell you the truth." Cathy stopped breathing in horror. The diapers weren't just a precaution. Miss Martinez expected her to wet herself. Unbidden, tears started to pour down Cathy's face. Cathy clenched the inner muscles of her thighs, trying to help her besieged bladder. She could feel the thick cloth bunch between her legs and press against her crotch. She was acutely aware of the texture of the plastic panties against the sensitive skin on the inside of her thighs. The pressure of the compressed cloth of the diaper against her sensitive crotch made Cathy aware of an increasing, and not unpleasant, sensation. Cripes, she thought, I'm getting hot. The crying somehow reduced Cathy's need to pee. The crisis passed, though the continuing pain between her legs told her that it was only a reprieve, not a pardon. She again became aware of her surroundings. Across the aisle Tamara and Linda were staring at her. She thought she saw signs of sympathy on their faces. Tamara began to chew on her gag. Cathy could see her cheeks flex and bulge around the hidden strap. Cathy wondered what was bothering Tamara. Tamara began to wriggle her lower torso, short jerky motions brought up sharply by the straps securing her to the seat. Cathy stared fascinated. Suddenly she noticed a small blue oval near the center of the crotch of Tamara's plastic panties. That wasn't there when she sat down, thought Cathy. As she stared, fascinated, the oval slowly grew larger. It didn't grow evenly, but rather it grew in length faster than in width and it grew downward faster than upward. Within a few minutes Tamara's diaper was bisected by a blue band that extended from underneath her bottom to halfway up her crotch. Light dawned suddenly for Cathy. Tamara must have just wet her pants. The blue band was an indicator. I'll bet that blue band is on that thin strip that she put over the diaper before she put on the plastic pants, thought Cathy. Now she knew what Miss Martinez meant when she had said that it was to let her know how Cathy was doing. With the realization, came the final struggle against her own urethra. She knew that she would lose and she wished that she could give up and end the pain, but the struggle went on and on. Finally she felt the first squirt as her urinary sphincter began to spasm. Squirt. Squirt. Squirt. She felt the crotch of her diaper get damp as she wet it. Squirt. Squirt. Squirt. Her arousal was increasing! Squirt. Squirt. Squirt. More pee, and she could tell that she had only begun to wet her pants ... there was much more to come. Squirt. Squirt. Squirt. She began to pant rhythmically, in time with the pulsing of her pee. Squirt. Squirt. Squirt. Suddenly she began to feel a telltale warmth start to flow over her body, radiating outward from her crotch. No! She screamed silently to herself, or not so silently she realized, as her rhythmic grunting penetrated her hazed consciousness. Squirt. Squirt. Squirt. As her orgasm rose to its peak and then began to ebb, she relaxed. Cathy's pee flooded out of her and into the thirsty, waiting diaper. Sight returned. As Cathy's breathing slowed she became aware of the girls around her. No secrets among us, she thought. There's no way they could have mistaken what just happened. She would have blushed with embarassment if her face hadn't already been flushed red from the exertions of her final struggle and sudden overwhelming defeat.

if you say anything other then freddie, you deserve to have all your diapers taken away and forced to listen to journey.

Sunbathing Causes Diaper Rash - Part 2 Dark blue Christine stood with her back to the wall of the cell, her legs spread slightly. She shook her head from side to side as if testing to see if she could shake the gag off. She then clenched her jaws several times, causing her cheeks to bulge as whatever inhabited her mouth changed shape slightly. Finally she looked at Cynthia with brimming eyes and issued a plaintive moan. Cynthia struggled to the edge of the cot and stood up. She walked over to her friend and said, "I don't know what I can do, but if you like I'll try unbuckle it. Turn around and let me see how it's fastened." "I can't see the fastening through your hair. You'll have to get down somehow so that I can back my hands up to your head and try to feel the fastenings." "There doesn't seem to be a buckle. There's a metal thing where I'd expect to find a buckle, but it's pretty smooth. I think it's a lock." A muffled series of grunts from Christine. "I can't make out what you're trying to say, Tina. I wish there was something I could do for you." The girls sat down on one of the cots. Time passed. Christine began to squirm uncomfortably. After a while, with a grunt, Christine stood up from the cot and moved over to the wall again. Turning her back to the wall, she spread her legs and pushed her bottom out to press against the wall. Cynthia watched all of this with puzzled interest. Christine stood there for some minutes, immobile and silent. Suddenly Cynthia heard a quiet sizzling sound from her friend's direction. Moments later she saw a dark blue stain appear in the center of the crotch of her jeans and spread rapidly down the inside of the thighs and slowly upward across the girl's flat tummy. Christine was wetting her pants. Some minutes later Christine's breathing had returned to normal. Her crotch was now dark and shiny in a large inverted 'U' that ran from just above her pubis and down to her ankles. A puddle of yellow fluid stood in a half circle on the floor centered on the place where Christine had stood. "Oh, Tina, I'm so sorry," Cynthia said. Christine finally heaved herself off of the wall and stumbled across the cell to the cot opposite Cynthia, where with a disconsolate moan she sat down in her wet jeans. Considerate of her not to sit down next to me with her wet pants, Cynthia thought, gazing reflectively at her friend. More dark blue By the time an hour had passed, Cynthia was becoming desperate herself. Christine's plight had made it clear that there was no comfort available from the operators of the prison. She had spent many futile minutes trying to maneuver her shapely bottom through the pinioned inverted arch of her hands in an effort to get her hands in front of her, where at least she could undo and pull down her jeans and bikini so that she could pee on the floor without wetting her pants, but had failed. "I guess I'm in the same boat as you, Tina, just minus the gag," Cynthia finally said to her friend. She got up from her cot and moved over to the puddle Christine had left. "I think I'll stand here so that we have just one puddle rather than two." With that, she adopted the pose so recently pioneered by Christine and proceeded to wet her own pants. At least I had the advantage of watching Christine, Cynthia thought, so it's not such a shock. Afterwards Cynthia sat down next to Christine. The clammy moist feeling of the wet bikini and jeans against her crotch was almost more than she could bear. They sat in silence. Changed After what seemed to the imprisoned girls like a geological age, they heard the sound of voices proceeding down the corridor, punctuated by regular stops and the clattering of some vaguely resonant objects. Finally two matrons pushed a large chromed cart on wheels into the view and stopped in front of their cell. One of the women pulled two trays from the cart while the other began to fuss with the lock at the cell door. Suddenly the woman at the door stopped and stepped back and said something sharply to her colleague, who joined her at the bars. The two examined the imprisoned girls through the bars for a moment and then exchanged several sentences in the local language. The woman who'd been tending the cart put the trays back in the cart. To Cynthia's disappointment, they moved on down the corridor, disappearing out of view. "Wait, please," she called after them, "we're hungry and thirsty and we've wet our pants. Please help us." Slowly the sounds of the two matrons bringing the midday meal to the prisoners disappeared down the corridor. Cynthia and Christine exchanged glances. Christine began to cry quietly. Some time later, after the sounds of the lunch cart had completely vanished, the girls heard the sound of numerous people hurrying down the corridor, much the same sound that they'd heard when the party had arrived to gag Christine. Sure enough, a posse of matrons appeared in front of their cell door pushing a gray cart. The subsequent events happened fast and neither girl had a coherent image of all of the details, it all happened so quickly and with such energy. Each was picked up and laid on one of the cots. Large strong shears appeared from somewhere and were used to cut the blue jeans from the ankle hem all the way to the waistband, first on one side and then on the other. Thus cut free, the soaked pants were removed quickly. The shears made similar quick work of the sides of the bathing suit bikini panties, the shirt, and the bra, with the ruined fragments of cloth gathered together and unceremoniously dumped into a large plastic garbage bag. The now nude girls were then treated to a brisk if uncomfortable sponge bath which quite effectively removed all perspiration, dirt, and residue of urine. Then they'd been rapidly dressed in clothing provided by the matrons. In order to put on the new blouses they'd been obliged to unlock the girls' hands, but they'd been quickly relocked, though to both girls' relief, with their wrists in front this time. Within minutes of their arrival, the matrons had disappeared, leaving the two girls seated facing each other across the room, one to a cot. The cots had been stripped and remade with fresh linen while the final steps of dressing had been completed. Each girl looked at her friend. Cynthia saw Christine dressed in a snug white blouse that showed her friend's upper endowments to good advantage. In addition she wore a skirt of stiff pleated grey wool flannel. The skirt was quite short, ending well above Christine's knees, and Cynthia could just see a tiny peek of the pink panties that the matrons had put on Christine. Cynthia knew that her blouse and skirt were virtually identical to Christine's and she was sure that Christine could see her own panties. She wondered if they were pink too. "Wow, Tina, that was fast." Christine nodded, staring intently at her friend and cellmate. "Did they do the same thing to you that they did to me?" Christine looked quizzically at her friend, unable to speak her request for clarity. "They put me in diapers!" Christine blushed. Then she nodded. "Well, I wish they'd put our hands in front before. That would have saved me from wetting my pants. Let me see if I can undo these things." With that, Cynthia bent her head down and pulled up her skirt and examined her new undergarments. In addition to the exceedingly thick cloth diapers, each sported a thick pair of translucent pink plastic panties. Examining the leghole and waist hems visually and with her fingers, Cynthia discovered that each hem was reinforced with some sort of strong cord, though whether it was wire or cotton she couldn't determine. In addition she discovered that the fastenings that connected the waist together were thin smooth metal mechanisms, each sporting what looked like a small keyhole. "Well, sweetie, it looks like we're locked into these delightful new panties. I don't think they want us pulling them down without supervision, do you?" Christine grunted her negative. "It's a good thing I peed recently. I wonder how often they plan to change us."

poor kid no control at all. And i think his mom is enjoying her son regressing.

I'm so sorry we're not creative enough for your entertainment. Maybe you should go find yourself somewhere more creative to hang out like an artists or writers site. Maybe there's a site for Finnish writers who like to dress all in black. Hugs, Freta

i chose sarah because its my name and ab because thats what i am, and so i don't have to keep answering are you ab or dl...

Just on this thread Darkfinn, Jabez, Goden, Baby Sophie, Bettypooh, NaughtyAshes, timmyc, PArms, happyindprs, HuggieBaby, froggy, curiositykilledthecat looks fairly diverse and creative to me. None starting in diap and only two with any diaper reference at all. I fail to see your point.

Dips darkfinn in a vat of pink dye. Renames him/her/it pinky because of the new color. Waits to see if that brightens up teh outlook. giggles wribbit

I don't see the big deal, if I was on a website about cars I would expect to see a lot of car names, or a video game site, I'd expect to see Gamer this and Gamer that. My screen name is actually because my first girlfriend used to call me her HuggieBaby. Don't be so quick to judge... HuggieBaby

Well my screen name is Happyindprs, I AM happy to wear diapers. I don't see anything wrong with my screen name what so ever. If you don't like the fact that others use diaper in their names, check out the BDSM sites their scene names coincide with masters or slaves or subs. I mean it all seems logical to me that depending on what site(s) you visit, your screen name would reflect what interests you. If you want my real name, it's Jim B. if that makes you more comfortable.

I don't think that "Baby"/"AB"/"Diaper" name prefixes are out of line here in any way In fact I'd consider it odd if I didn't see so many of them I've seen some names here that don't make any sense to me, but whatever If the user likes their name that's what matters My own name isn't very imaginative but it wasn't intended to be In no way does it reflect anything else about me Bettypooh

I always laugh at those commercials. If I have a 4 hour erection I'm not calling a Doctor, I'm throwing a party!!

Wow, for once you're not trying to run this place or shame DailyDi because he doesn't run the Forums to your so-called 'standards'. Of course, this bullshit you wrote doesn't improve your standing any...moron. You suck at life. Stop breathing.

Diaper issue: 1. Leave the cupboards closed. This NEEDS to become habit. 2. Get him/her something better to scratch than the diapers. Find out what he/she likes. You may need to try different scratching posts. Just give him/her something pleasant and appropriate to scratch. Cats NEED to scratch things to shed their excess bits of claws. It's instinct AND NOT THE CAT'S FAULT. To help entice your cat, use catnip if he/she is receptive to it. 3. Trim the claws. BE CAREFUL of the quick - cutting the quick is painful and will make your cat bleed. It's like cutting your nail down to the point of bleeding - ouch! If you can't do it yourself or are too nervous to, go to a vet or groomer. 4. DO NOT DECLAW YOUR CAT. It's extremely painful, and like cutting the first digit of each of your fingers off. Peeing and pooping everywhere: 1. Litter train your kitten. Take the pee or poop and put it in the litter box, in front of your kitten. He or she will get the process. 2. SCOOP the cat litter and replace the litter when needed. Cats are finicky and most won't poop/pee in a filthy litter box. 3. Have at least two litter boxes for your kitty - one main one, and one extra. Ideally, you should have at least 1 box per cat, plus one extra. They like this. 4. Get them spayed or neutered. Cats tend to "mark their territory" more when they can reproduce....Not to mention unwanted pregnancies in a female cat! If you can't do these things, then you really have no business owning a cat. Source: I have 3 cats. ~ moogle

Wait a cotton-picking minute Isn't that backwards ??? I would think ABDL's should see the frowns turn to smiles when wet Bettypooh (with a smiling diaper on )

Eew. You sleep in a diaper you cum into? That's.....disgusting man. Weird. But each their own, I guess. If it makes ya happy.

Next time get a dog. They can chew when they are puppies, but I don't think they claw things like cats do, even older cats. Perhaps have your cat declawed if it's just a house cat/pet. Nothing against cats but I don't want a pet that dosn't go out in the yard to do their business. True, as some will point out to me, you still have to clean the yard of the doggie droppings but I don't want a cat peeing and pooping in my house in a litter box. The only one I want peeing and pooping in my house is me, and even then I sometimes use diapers! True, dogs may take more care in having to let them out all the time but I guess I'm just a dog person.

No I probably won't ever be ready. If I'm not willing to be mature enought to just be normal and use the toilet and not use diapers like a baby, then I won't ever be ready to have an adult and mature relationship. It's an oxymoron to be in a mature relationship while pissing your pants daily willingly.

Honestly, "Autie" is bad enough b/c you are using your autism as a label.

PLease go see a therpaist or get help. You yourself said you constantly and obsessively check how you look with a diaper on. This is obsessive and compulsive behavior that needs psychological counseling to get control over. Most of us don't let diapers consume us, but it sounds to me like diapers for you have gotten to a point where they consume every single facet of your life, which is BAD. You are becoming obsessive and obsessive behavior must be taken control over before they consume the person entirely. It sounds like you can't function like a normal person. Therefore the diapers have become all consuming for you and you need help. It even gets to the point you think it necessary to take "crotch shots" of yourself and let others see your diaper. It's gotten so bad that having just you look isn't enough and you require to force others to see your crotch in a diaper. Help is only a phonecall away. Get help. It's good.

Uh, what makes it more disgusting is that "LovesDiapersnDick" is a guy, not a girl!

I accidentally left my wardrobe door open stacked four deep with tena slips supers and the little moister has ripped them to shredders making them useless and leaky, that cat has been nothing but a pain in the arse with the pissing and shitting everywhere., Now this. ;(

Anyone care to try and explain what it is with the AB/DL online community and generic screen names? Come on people... Baby this, or Diaper that, or Sissy whatever, or Wet/Messy/Soggy/Stinky yadda yadda. I think we all get it, you really like diapers, soiling yourself and acting like an infant. They are AB/DL forums folks, I think we are all here because we share one particular interest. Does the originality of the screen name reflect on the quality of the person behind it? Decide for yourself. But I see more trolls and creepers with names like DiaperBaby6969 every day. Just a statistic... there are over 50 pages of members whose name starts with "diap" on this site. Overkill anyone?

Take cat, take burlap sack, insert cat into said sack and tie closed, throw cat in river. Problem solved.

I've just recently started to wear diapers again and am thrilled to be baxk in them. However I have yet to find a decent pair that I really really like. Is anyone willing to mail me one or 2 of whatever they were so I can figure out what to buy from now on? I am a size medium and love pull-ups during the day and diapers at night. Any help would be greatly appreciated.