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My Girlfriends Sisters Baby < Chapter 22 > The ride back to Kims house was more of a blur as I pondered over the conversation Becky had with Miss Dani, I thought it would be interesting to actually be changed by so many young girls but then again, knew there was no way Beth would commit me, or her to a situation such as that since we were heading back home in 2 days or so, but still, it kind of excited me just thinking about the humiliation factor of having so many girls fussing over me, seeing me in diapers and actually changing my diapers without being repulsed or harboring any negative feelings, basically feeling the same way they would if changing a babys soiled diaper ( I had no idea Kim, Beth and their mom had invited so many people to the bar-b-que on Monday, plus the fact that every single one of them was female ). As we pulled into the driveway, both Beth and Kim were outside waiting for us with Cassidy, Beth came over to the Beckys car and proceeded to get me out while Becky grabbed my diaper bag explaining to Kim and Beth that they had put my dirty diapers in the "Dirty Didees" bag she had found in my diaper bag. Beth gave me a big hug while patting my bottom, checking for a wet or bad diaper no doubt ( I was starting to know when anyone was sneaking a diaper check on me ), Becky saw Beth and told her that I had just been changed about 30 minutes ago by 2 of the staffs nurses aides, Beth smiled, looked at me and said "AWWWWWWWW THAT'S SOOOOOO CUTE" We wasn't inside the house more then 5 minutes when Kim brought 2 baby bottles over, one for me and one for Cassidy, being extremely careful not to mix the bottles up, once we had our bottles and sat on a blanket in the middle of the floor, Beth, Kim and Becky sat on the couch and living room chairs and started chatting. Becky explained to Beth and Kim what her and Miss Dani had talked about and mentioned that she was sure that the nursing home would be prepared to pay for the rare services which Beth could offer by allowing me to become their testing grounds for diapering care and needs, sort of like a "Diapering 101 Course" I thought to myself, as I amused myself with my thoughts I was suddenly given an eyeopener when I heard Beth say, " I would like to talk to Miss Dani, I'm sure we can come to some type of monetary agreement, it would definitely help with the bills and the additional cost to Kim of having 2 more mouths to feed, plus it would help with the cost of the diaper service we're going to have to get for Robbie". If Becky hadn't been sitting there I would have said something to Kim and Beth, but I didn't want her to find out that I wasn't really slow, little did I know, she already knew everything about me and what Beth and Kim were doing, Amber from Kims daycare and nursery had already told her everything. What did bother me was that Beth was actually entertaining the proposition and seriously thinking about having me become the nursing home baby, I had a gut wrenching feeling that there was something I wasn't being told, not to mention that gut wrenching feeling that I was about to make another messy diaper as my tummy started to rumble from the bottle I was STILL nursing on, it seemed I couldn't even finish a bottle anymore without making a wet or messy diaper, that special formula was really working well, I had no idea just how well. Just before Becky left, she sweetened the pot, so to speak, by telling Beth and Kim that she was almost positive that the nursing home, along with whatever money we agreed upon, would also include adding me, per se, Kims home, to the nursing homes weekly diaper delivery service, since she noticed I was in cloth diapers. Beth and Kim high-fived each other and told Becky, if the nursing home agreed to that, it would be awesome and they were almost positive that they could reach some form of agreement, I was totally confused? As soon as Becky left, I questioned Kim and Beth as to what were they thinking? Beth put her fingers on my lips and told me to hush, this was a big persons decision and they would tell me what their plans were, when, and where they thought it to be appropriate, I was stunned, and I told Beth that she was treating me as if I was a 2 year old? The response I got was definitely not the one I expected, while Kim sat on the couch, Beth wrinkled her nose, turned me around, yanked my sweats down, then carefully stuck 2 fingers into my onesie at my inner thigh, peeked in and said, " Yes Robbie, I AM TREATING YOU LIKE A 2 YEAR OLD, like a 2 year old with a messy diaper, who is dire need of a diaper change, and right after your diaper is changed and your yucky bottom is wiped and clean, you're going to get another baby bottle of your special formula, and YOU, LITTLE ONE, ARE GOING NIGHT-NIGHT, you're going to have a very busy 2 days in front of you, the bar-b-que tomorrow and a very big, BIG appointment with your pediatrician on Tuesday......... IT SEEMS BABY BOY, SOMETHING HAS SERIOUSLY GONE WRONG WITH THE SPECIAL FORMULA WE'VE BEEN FEEDING YOU, AND WE'RE AFRAID, YOU'RE GONNA BE IN DIAPERS JUST A TAD BIT LONGER THEN WE FIRST ANTICIPATED.................... I just sat there, in a daze, wondering, what could possibly have went wrong, the formula did exactly what they wanted it to do, I was wetting and messing my diapers without even realizing it, until after I did it, most of the time, as I felt the front of my diaper warming up and starting to get damp.................................

Chapter Four She laid on her bed for several minutes, recovering her breath and, hopefully, her sanity, as she felt the stinging in her bottom slowly turn into a dull ache that made it slightly more tolerable. Finally, she started to sit up, then thought better of it and got to her feet, where she began to nervously pace back and forth beside her bed, trying to come up with a rational explanation for what had just occurred. She did have to admit that it was awfully convenient that it had happened right after she'd visited the old woman, who had made such a big deal about her bathroom habits. But, barring actual magic, there was no way she could be behind it. Summer thought back to their talk, and she was certain that they'd never so much as touched, so she couldn't have injected her with any drugs. And she hadn't offered any food, not that Summer would have been stupid enough to eat any. In fact, the only thing she'd eaten that day was an apple. The only bad thing she'd ever heard of happening with apples was razors being put in them... Well, and the witch's apple from Sleeping Beauty, but she hadn't fallen asleep. More likely, if this thing was food related, it was because she was hungry, but she'd never heard of hunger hallucinations causing the kind of pain she was feeling. Actually, as far as she knew, no kind of hallucination caused that. Something had actually gone down in that bathroom, whether it had happened just as she though she'd seen it or not. Much as she liked to think it had been her imagination, or the effect of someone dosing her with something strange, there was no denying the red hue of her bottom poking out from her skirt every time she walked past her mirror. Was it possible the house was haunted? She didn't really believe in ghosts, but she still found them more realistic than witches. Except that there had never been any other kind of haunting stuff going on, and she'd lived in that house all her life. And, other than the laugh she'd thought she'd heard, which she was willing to admit could have just been in her mind, it seemed to be localized in the bathroom, which seemed odd. She was sure her mother would have told her if someone had gotten murdered in the bathroom since she'd been away at school. As much as she wanted to deny it, and as crazy as it sounded, everything seemed to be pointing towards that old woman actually being a witch, but Summer just couldn't accept it. If she really could use magic, why live in such a crappy house? Why put up with the neighborhood kids making fun of her? And why, when she got tired of that, would she decide to take it all out on Summer, of all people? No, there had to be something more to it. Summer shook her head with a sigh, glancing down as she heard her stomach growl. Perhaps she should re-think the whole hunger pangs thing... Maybe she'd been so hungry she'd passed out and fell on her tailbone hard, and the rest of it had been a weird dream before she woke up. She wasn't sure how likely that actually was, but it was at least something she could solve. She started to head out her door and down to the kitchen for some lunch, then remembered the state of her backside. Not knowing whether Val was still in the kitchen or not, she decided to change into something a bit more concealing, slipping into a pair of capris, and, as her shirt was still quite wet and sticky, a T-shirt. She was quite glad she did, as, sure enough, Valerie was still pouting at the kitchen table. She glanced up when she saw her step-sister enter the room, cocking her head to one side. "Did you change?" she asked. Summer couldn't help but blush, feeling rather embarrassed to be standing there, in front of a little kid, having just, at the very least, imagined that she'd been punished like a child by a bunch of inanimate objects. "No," she lied, hurrying to the fridge and pulling out some chicken, left over from the night before, putting it onto a plate and sticking it into the microwave. She got herself a glass of water, then had to fight not to spit the first sip back up automatically, as the water, infused with the bits of soap still stuck in her mouth, reminded her that the spanking was not the only thing she'd been through. Not only did that make her passing-out theory seem less likely, it also made the thought of eating less appetizing, but the microwave was pinging at her to tell her it was done, and Valerie was already staring intently at her, as if she knew Summer was hiding something and was trying to work out what. "Why don't you go to Anita's house and apologize?" Summer suggested as she realized the girl would only get more suspicious if she didn't sit down when she ate. "I'm sure she's had time to cool down, and she'll understand..." "She's hanging out with her friends today," Valerie said sulkily. "And you're not one of them?" Summer asked. "I don't know," Valerie shrugged, "but her other ones are mean." "I'm sure you just need to get to know them." Trying to kill time until she could get rid of her sister, Summer started putting salt and pepper onto her food, and digging through the silverware drawer as if she couldn't find one of the dozen forks right in front of her. "I do know them," Valerie pouted. "They're in a higher grade, so they don't eat lunch with us, but they always make fun of me if they run into me in the halls, or the bathroom." "Ah," Summer nodded, remembering the training bra she'd reluctantly agreed to help her buy. That must be the real reason. "Well, go play outside, then, it's too nice for you to be all cooped up." "I was outside this morning," Valerie pointed out. "And you've been cooped up all day..." "I'm older," Summer said, starting to get annoyed. She moved on to getting out the bread and some cheese and making a sandwich, "I've already gotten plenty of sun in my lifetime. And I'm not growing anymore. Go on." "I'll go out later," Valerie shrugged. "Do you want to watch a movie or something with me while you eat?" "Not really... But you go ahead and watch something." "Oh," Valerie's face fell. "Well, I don't really have anything I want to watch, I just thought..." "You know what? I think I'm gonna eat in my room. I'm working on some homework, so... Yeah, I'll be up there," Summer declared, grabbing her sandwich and hurrying back up to her room. She regretted giving up that way a moment or two later, however, as she bit into the sandwich, finding that, like her water, it tasted much like the soap that had been forced into her. She considered going to grab her glass of water from the counter, but didn't want to look like even more of a ditz to Valerie. She considered just not eating the rest of the sandwich, but, unless Valerie really did go out to play, she might see Summer taking the remainder into the kitchen, and would surely hear the garbage disposal in the sink running and wonder what was going on. And they'd had ant problems before, so she wasn't about to just let it sit around in her room. She briefly thought about throwing it out her window, but that seemed risky, too. Sure, someone dog could wander by and get rid of the evidence for her... Or it could just sit there until her mom got home, and then she'd have to think of some reason for it to be there, right under her window. So she choked down her soap-tinged chicken, standing up, starting to squirm as she got closer to finishing, the need to pee that had led her into the ambush in the bathroom getting slowly more urgent. She still had no idea what had happened, but, despite herself, when she went out and stood in front of the bathroom door, her heart began to pound wildly and her palms began to sweat. Would it happen again? She wasn't sure if she could take any more... After a minute or two of procrastination, she decided to go to the bathroom in her mother's room instead. It was smaller, made even more so by the questionable decision to put the linen closet in there, with a walk in shower instead of a full bathtub, but there was a toilet, and that was all she really needed. She slipped into the bedroom, closing the door behind her, and then into the bathroom, pulling the pocket door shut as well. She felt a bit silly as she did it, as if she were hiding from her own bathroom, but she couldn't help it, and even found herself tip-toeing to the toilet. She reached down to pull open the lid, only to let out a desperate, "Son of a bitch," when it didn't budge, just like the other one. Quickly, she turned and ran for the door, only to be stopped dead in her tracks, arms nearly pulled out of their sockets as a towel wrapped itself around each of them, tugging her to a stop before she could do so herself. She let out a gasp of pain, at which point she found her mouth once again filled with a bar of soap. She grunted and groaned helplessly, struggling to break free as she felt the towels pulling her backwards. She wasn't sure where they were taking her until she had gotten past the door of the lined closet, and it swung open. Towels began to tumble out onto the floor, where they wriggled to life to her horror. The first two stayed on the floor, where they slithered toward her like a pair of cloth snakes. She shifted her feet to try to keep away, but with her arms being held, she couldn't get away, and she felt them wrap around her ankles, pulling them apart, leaving her standing in the middle of the bathroom, spread eagle. The next two sprang to life as they hit the floor, seeming to almost bounce back up, floating like a pair of ghosts toward her. She began to cry as she saw them, not knowing what they could they planning to do, yet knowing that, no matter what it was, she couldn't stop it. Held as she was, she could just barely wriggle her middle, and move her head, neither of which were likely to dissuade them. Sure enough, they almost seemed attracted to her thrashing pelvis, flying right up to it. She let out a quiet but desperate wail as the first snuck its way down the front of her capris and she felt it inside her panties, against her sensitive skin, sure that this was the prelude to another spanking. To her surprise, she was wrong. Instead of pulling her pants down, the towel simply continued creeping its way inside them, sliding further into her panties, past her still hurting bottom, and out the other side, where it turned around and did the same from the other side, doubling itself up. The second towel did the same, leaving her with a noticeable bulge in the crotch of her pants, and the rather uncomfortable sensation that she had something alive in her panties - which were straining to contain the bulk, leg holes cutting into her skin almost painfully - with her. She was so busy gawking at that, she didn't notice the final object to make its way out of the closet until it was hovering right in front of her. She glanced up in surprise as she saw it, wondering what the feather duster was planning to do, then began to fight against her bonds as she saw it push itself against the hem of her shirt and then rise up, leaving her tummy exposed. A moment later, it started to tickle her mercilessly, as she laughed into the soap in her mouth, no matter how hard she tried not to. The towels in her underwear were helping, too, squirming and brushing against her, leaving her whole body squirming as much as it possibly could in the position it was in. The result was inevitable - she couldn't do anything to stop it, couldn't even cross her legs or clamp her hands between them to try to delay it - but no less humiliating for that, as her near-silent pangs of laughter were cut short as her bladder gave way, warm urine cascading into the thick, soft cloth between her legs. She began to cry again, hardly able to believe what she had done, been forced to do. She began to shout a series of swear words into her makeshift gag, the only way she could think of to release some of her anger, although, unfortunately for her, those seemed to wake the it up, earning her another soaping despite her protests. She wasn't sure how long it lasted, only that, while it was going on, she couldn't wait for it to end, but when it did, she found herself wishing it hadn't, as it stopped only when she heard a knock on the pocket door. She gasped through her mouthful of suds, trying, unsuccessfully to call out that she was in there. She felt the towels around her limbs moving, shoving her down onto her bottom, where the towels in her pants were now wet and squishy, and not nearly thick enough to keep the very act of sitting from being uncomfortable. Unused to the bulk, she found her legs spreading out naturally in front of her. There was another knock, as she watched the towels hang themselves back up, or float back into the linen closet. The last thing to return to its rightful place was the soap, right as the door began to slide open, leaving Summer no time to request just another minute, or to do anything but sit there and drool onto her already damp shirt, legs splayed, the thick padding between them clearly visible, as her mother stepped into the room.

The creator, director and producer of REDEMPTION Michael Bryson is my client. He originally posted the work-in-progress preview of his proposed full-length feature film REDEMPTION on what was promised to be a secure site on which film makers could exchange ideas and receive feedback. Somehow a person or persons unknown posted it to an unauthorized site where the general public could view it. In early February 2008 it was posted without authorization on several AB/DL websites. My husband and I saw it on an AB/DL site. Michael already knew us because my husband had been one of his mentors, but Michael did not know about our connection to the AB/DL community. I immediately phone Michael Bryson to inform him about the spread of his preview. Of course during his research he had read about AB. He wrote the scenes with "Older Amber" showing her using AB when under stress. Since it was not practical to instantly have his preview removed for the internet, Michael Bryson decided to join YEOH and post an authorized copy of REDEMPTION there so questions from viewers could be answered. I was retained to answer those questions and well as handle legal aspects of arranging financing for production of the feature. By December 2008 it was obvious no financing on acceptable terms could be arranged. That was when Michael Bryson withdrew his preview from YEOH. Days later he began sending notice of copyright infringement to every operator of websites hosting his content without permission. This policy continues currently. As always, Daily Diapers has fully cooperated with every copyright owner who has asked their material be removed from DD. At no time did Michael Bryson or his agents and representatives single out individual viewers based on their actions while watching REDEMPTION. Sincerely, Angela M. Bauer, Esq

I don't believe one can be born with a diaper fetish. Diapers are a product of man invention, and is not sometihng inherently "known" in the human mind. It's only when we are small and diapered that we develop the fetish for diapers. It's purely human classical conditioning. If all the diapers in the world were replace with...let's say pumpkins. And all th eworld's babies were reuqired to wear pumpkins in place of diapers, then years down the road it would become known that an entire generation of people have pumpkin fetishes and wear pumpkins like we wear diapers know. It sounds silly I know, BUT IT'S TRUE. The only reason we like diapers is because we were subconsciously taught to love them when we were small. Diapers are a product of man, and they won't be around forever. There was a time when they didn't exist, and there will come a time when they don't exist anymore (in production). Alternatives to baby waste removal will be found, and all the remaining diapers will be on ebay for thousands of dollars a package. I don't believe anyone who says they were "born with a diaper fetish" because that's impossible. Some things are genetically wired (like homosexuality and transgenderism) but diapers AREN'T. Sorry, Charlie.

Had the diaper fetish early as a child, the infantilism probably stems from abuse. I don't know what triggered the diaper fetish though, could've been potty trained early or I have some deeply repressed memory that I don't want to know about. In the end it's not the why that matters as much as it is the how you deal with it.

Dry24/7 vs Bambino Teddy (both mediums). They're lined up at the far-right corner: As I said, this is one huge diaper... The Teddy is about 6½" across the crotch part, the Dry24/7 is about 7½". It also has a much higher rise. Thickness comparison wouldn't really be fair at this point - the Dry24/7 came straight out of a new pack for that photo but the Teddy has been out of the pack for months.

No. It's just a really short pair of white cutoffs.

Or perhaps my whole reasoning behind the post was to stir up converation about a paticular topic without expressing my own views... and for the pure randomness of the whole thread Edit: Yes, after a full process of your input variable, I can affirm that I am a computer.

I blame the lack of homosexual behavior. Heterosexual behavior is what got us into the mess we're currently in, and only by matching cock with cock and pussy with pussy shall we overcum! I also blame Naruto. Seriously, fuck that noise ~Luci

well my first time was when i was 13 and my mom was joking that i liked to mess my pants until i was 5 and after that i didn't do that because she put the messy under wear to my face and i stopped, but i was watching a huggies or pampers commercial one day and thought about wearing diapers would be cool and the experiment on how much they hold and i ask my mom if i could get a pack and she said no. A couple of months later i decide to poop my pants in the bathroom and i did it felt good and then i was making make shift diapers from toilet paper and sleeping out side in the summer did that for about 2 years and then when i was 18 i bought my first diapers online and loved them ever since.

I was either 6 or 7. My mom's boyfriend had a daughter who was still in diapers, so we had a stash in the house. It was Easter. My mom, brother and I went to church for services. When we returned, I found my dad had left an Easter basket with some candy and a card with a $10 bill in it. I had been looking for an excuse -- any excuse -- to try on a diaper, so I said to my mom: "Dad gave me $10. Where's my $10 from you?" She refused to give me any money, so I said "If you don't give me money, I'm going to put on a diaper. That'll teach you" (or something to that effect). She just ignored me (rightfully so, looking back), so I put on the diaper. It was a Pampers, size 4 I think. My mom continued to ignore me, so I walked over to the neighbor's house, where there was an Easter egg hunt going on. I remember walking into the backyard, seeing all the kids running around, and said "What the heck am I doing?" and ran back to the house, took off the diaper, and went back to the hunt.

Good reading on this topic, my first experience in diapers i can not remember.... as for the second time i was in diapers i remember like it was yesterday. Grew up in a friendly neighborhood, everybody new everybody. Had plenty of friends and we were always outside doing what boys do.... One of my friends mom made us lunch so we came inside for a bit.... playing in his room he opened up his closet and at the top of the closet i noticed the diapers. Joking around with him got old pretty quick, he was called away by his mom, i remember grabbing a diaper and going into the bathroom. The smell reminds me of the bambino stuffers these days, just the excitement of getting a diaper was overcoming. I put on the diaper and fastened the tapes, pulled up my underwear over the Johnson and Johnson disposable diaper and went and ate lunch. I could hear the crinkle of the diaper, and decided that i needed to get it off quick after lunch. However i just let go and peed in the diaper, continued to carry on that afternoon diapered, my friends never knew I was diapered.... At least i do not think they knew. I ended up over time taking a bag of the diapers home.... hiding them in my room, so that was my start to diapers at age 11.

Although I don't want to take anything away from the principal or key message of this thread (we should help those in need - especially those who have suffered such misfortune as those in Japan), I feel I should point out that that we are getting hammered with requests for charity donations in the UK at the moment; and many of them are using dodgy methods - either through desperation or ignorance. I recognise this is very much an international forum, but ... frankly this is something I want to get of my chest anyway. Keep in mind if you do the "donate via text" thing in the UK, you can often get hit on the mobile phone network charges on top of the donation (from a landline it's normally ok, but "call XXXXXX to donate £2" can end up costing you £4; e.g. for comic relief earlier today - advertised on a major UK radio network - it was £2 for the donation (to the charity) and £2 for the premium rate text message profit for Orange/T-Mobile/Vodaphone/Three/Whatever-network-it-was). Personally I've also noticed a big increase in chuggers* on the streets (due to councils and central government cutting back funding), and we have a lot more people collecting outside stores and a resurgence of TV ads for charities retorting to emotional blackmail. I already donate every month out of my salary (UK peeps - use Gift Aid - its tax free), I put most of my low value change into charity boxes in stores (if they are there) and I get hit with a heavy council tax bill considering what little services I ever use that they are responsible for (directly or otherwise) ... so I would like to think I'm justified in this post, not justifying being a right Scrooge. Once again, I'm not trying to take anything away from the charities who desperately need funding, but simply to vent my frustration at the constant pestering I, and others in the UK, seem to be getting from charities of late. That being said, please remember to donate to the charities you feel most strongly for, they really are about to have a very difficult few years. * -- A slang term here for "charity muggers". These are people who stop you in the street and trying to get you to sign up to a direct-debit for the charity who are paying them to stand in the street and harass people.

You confuse edgy and sarcastic with being logical.

So Japan > New Zealand or donate to Japan because their disaster is newer? Hey remember Haiti? Their country was shit before their devastating earthquake. I guess all I'm saying is that Japan has more money and resources and will most likely bounce back quicker than Haiti. If you already gave money to all of these countries then great and I'm not saying don't donate to Japan. Just don't forget that most people are in need and donating every once in a while helps but don't forget about them afterwords.

My family was diaper-friendly. Granny and Mom are urinary incontinent, so they hope none of Granny's granddaughters would have urinary problems, but worked on the assumption we would eventually become incontinent. They did not want us to fear diapers. Most of us reverted to bedwetting at puberty. Of course needing diapers every night for bed was a complication in middle and high school. We took the approach that so long as we did not attempt to keep our wetting a top secret and were prepared to tell the first diaper joke on ourselves, there was no point in teasing us. What we did not learn until much later was that so many nice people are into adult baby. I learned about AB late in 1990 at which time I had been profoundly urinary incontinent almost 5 1/2 years and was 26. It was all the logistics of diapers that depressed me. Once I read that AB had fun in diapers, my entire outlook changed, pun intended. Hating or resenting my diapers did nothing to restore my bladder control. With AB I can have some fun with my diapers. Most of the time I need to be an overly responsible adult. Even then when I have a few seconds to day dream I remember some incident where I had special AB fun and that makes me smile all over.

Given that hundreds of thousands of women die every year in the world as a result of pregnancy or its complications, I would hardly call it a beautiful design. I think you need to be careful as well about stating that a woman's body was meant to produce children - as though this was some sort of mandate based on anatomy. A woman's body is changed forever after pregnancy - and some of those changes are unattractive to me. It is not sad to say such things - it is a statement of my preference - we all have preferences right? Or is that not allowed anymore? People are bigger than their anatomy, we don't have obligations to our anatomy in the way other creatures do. We have the ability to decide when, if ever to have kids. While I would not call myself a anti-breeder, I do think many people enter into having kids carelessly. Your estimation of a plummet in breast cancer rates with breastfeeding are overstated. While there is a reduction in risk you really only go from a 1/6 shot down to 1/8 shot. (This is based on the large Lancet observation study that showed a 4.3% relative risk reduction in breast cancer for a minimum 1 year of breastfeeding - which many women in developed countries don't do anyhow). Still though, reducing your risk of breast cancer is a terrible reason to have a kid. I have no idea what your apple pie statement is meant to prove - since it proves nothing about anything.

I would like to blame the people who sit around and bemoan the degradation of modern culture.

Require him to put you on speakerphone when you call, so that when you call and he is hanging with the guys, he has to put you on speakerphone and you say something like "did baby make wettums in his didy??" while all his friends listen. That'll make him feel small!

When in public places, like lines, put your hand down the back of his pants and feel his diaper for wetness. If it's wet say out loud "baby's wet!". If it's dry, tell him "you aren't wet, baby. Whatsa matter?" Whenever in public, always take the chance to say anything involving him in diapers. If at the store, tell him "honey we have to go buy you some more baby diapers" or "let's go to the bathroom and change your didy". Use public restrooms for changings. ALways force him to go into the women's room with you, holding his hand while he sucks his thumb. When done changing, force him to carry the wet or dirty diaper to the trash bin and throw it away, even if other women are watching.

Can you say "everything"? I have written about my background so much that I am almost tired of it. It is in my blotg and other posts

No it doesn't. Plus that one is old and uninteresting.

Actually you are. You can measure damage in monitory value sure, however Haiti's death toll of almost a quarter of a million people, to me, is more of a tragedy than the loss of billions of dollars worth of stuff. The people of Haiti were poor had had almost nothing before the earthquake and now the situation is even worse. The point is that there are tragedies and injustices all over the world all the time and those who care shouldn't give money only when a disaster hits. Yes there are more people in need than any one person can help, all I'm asking is that everyone not forget about them when a disaster elsewhere hits. This isn't about taking away the thousands of dead in Japan, or trivializing what is going on there. It's about the big picture. Take a step back and remember that thousands more die everyday all over from preventable causes like disease, dirty water or lack of food to name a few. Give to Japan? YES. Give only when a disaster that's on the news hits. NO. Give within your means? Yes.

When I put on a diaper it' like my body no longer has any control of itself. I usually last a few minutes before I'm totally soaked. he funny thing is that if I changed myself after every flooding, I'd still flood as if there's a neverending stream of pee waiting to come out. I guess I like being next to my peepee. Since I think you can't talk about pee without mentioning the other dirty deed, I will say that sometimes it seems like after I put on a diaper I lose bowel control and will just mess after like ten minutes of changing. I don't like being messy as much as wet but sometimes I can't hold it in and just let go. There have been a time or two where I thought I was diapered and in reality pooed my pants while on the couch.

58 years old and wearing women's hip huggers with visible diapers? Lollipops say wuzz?

Being a sissy comes naturally whenever a man puts on a soft diaper, it's just so relaxing and sissifying to do it. And it really is much more appealing to be a sissy in a diaper than a manly man. A sissy man in diaper would say "hee hee, mommy change my didey!" A manly man in a diaper would say "chnge my diaper bitch, and grab me a beer while you are in the kitchen".