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I've been a member here for a few years, but don't know that I ever did a intro post:

Well the idea behind the story 'Ellen's Visitor' makes even more sense now

Nanny's Day Off. I leaned back in my chair and took stock. It was rare for me to be out of the limelight, and even rarer to be behind the camera rather than in front of it, and I was enjoying the chance to reflect. Little Elizabeth was sitting beside me, and all her attention was on her twin sister Katherine who was in front of the camera. I had been dead against the idea, but for once I had lost the argument. My manager, Julian, had been approached by John, the producer of a soap opera with an offer he could not refuse - but then Julian could never refuse an offer as long as enough money was attached to it. The producer had wanted not me but my daughters for a starring role in his series. It was not just that they were famous - we had to drive the paparazzi off with fire hoses - but because they were identical twins, and as the producer was keen to point out, working with children was a major headache for him. The hours that four-year-old children could work were strictly limited, and by having two interchangeable actresses a much higher rate of filming could be achieved, targets met, blah, blah, blah. My initial objections were the same as any mother would have; I didn't want my children exploited, over-worked, rushed into adulthood etcetera, but Julian knew my worries. One was the cost of their future education, I wanted them to have at least as good a chance as Matt and I had had and that would now cost a fortune, and our resources were a bit stretched at the moment. While Matt was on a course in London we were living in a rented house in the country nearby, and it was costing. I was still making plenty of money modelling, but the rent was horrendous. I still had my little mews house in Hampstead, but it was too small for us now, and besides it was now rented out to Elke, once Uncle Percy's au-pair girl, but now a successful model in her own right thanks to Julian spotting her. Even so, I was expected to keep up appearances, and that can cost - especially in London. I stuck to my guns and played what I thought was my trump card; I told the producer that the children had not been toilet trained, and that they still had to wear nappies day and night. I folded my hands to show the matter was settled, but John was not dismayed at all. He told me that that was a huge advantage. He said that the director would be livid if, after all the trouble he had gone to set up a scene, the child star would demand to go to the lavatory and everything had to hold for ten minutes while the little darling had a wee-wee. He said that, if he had his way, all child actors would be in nappies and some of the adult stars as well. I was defeated, outflanked, and my trump card had been trumped in its turn. I had to agree. My mind was still boggling at the sudden idea of my actor friends in nappies, and being changed on the back of the set. I tried to focus on the contract in front of me to stop myself from laughing. After I had regained control, I asked John whether any actors actually did this, and he just smiled and said, "well, some of those costumes make it very difficult to get to the loo." and he left it at that. My daughters were delighted at their new game. Ever since I had taken them on a shoot - the sitter had not turned up - and they had seen me posing and posturing in front of the camera they had decided that it was the finest thing since sliced bread, and they spent hours twisting and posing to emulate Mummy doing her job. It had one huge advantage; whenever they were being naughty and not doing as Mummy told them, all Mummy had to do was imitate a cameraman, and they would immediately strike a pose - sometimes falling over in the process. They soon picked up the game of let's pretend - the big, grown-up game of Let's Pretend which was played out in front of the cameras, and actually enjoyed being made up and costumed for the part; they always thrived on attention - I suppose they got that from me. I recalled how I had not found it easy being the little child on the periphery, ten years my sister's junior, and how I had done so many things to get attention. Wetting my own nappy had been an overworked favourite at one time; it served to assert myself, an act of defiance. Fortunately in all other respects, the production team was marvellous. We had our own dressing room, well stocked with colouring books and crayons - and nappies. We could retire there between takes and make any changes that might be necessary. The costume department was in on the secret, and made sure the costumes they wore were tailored accordingly - no very short skirts or too-tight trousers, and I watched closely to see that no trace of their nappies would show on screen. I had a bit of fun myself from time to time, joining the extras in a crowd scene, carefully grunging myself up, rounding my shoulders and stooping to fit in with all the rest. And I wore flat-heeled shoes as well - it's difficult to be part of a crowd when you are five-foot ten with a huge mane of hair, but I did my best. Word got out, of course, and "Spot Amelia" became a great hobby amongst the fans. The producers certainly didn't mind that, but I was careful to limit my appearances so as not to make any professional actor on the cast envious. When thinking of envy I had my own moments, when one of my daughters was picked up and fussed by her screen mother, and I was worried that my child was getting too fond of them, but I had underestimated the acting ability of my daughters, who could get in and out of character with an ease which many other experienced actors could barely manage; they had a natural talent for the job, and I wondered what we were going to do if the series ended, or they were written out. I would have to bring them down to earth somehow. I really quite liked the idea; Tuesday was a shooting day, and coincided with the nanny's day off, so I had the job of looking after the girls on that day. As long as I could fit my other commitments around it, it worked quite well, and Julian was careful to keep me free on Tuesdays. Fortunately this Tuesday went well, and we had an early wrap. I changed the girls back into their day clothes, and noted that both were dry so that was easy; I simply left them nappied for the drive home. On the way out of the studios I passed a couple of actresses who were dressed up for the classical drama that was being filmed on an adjacent lot; huge crinolines filled the corridor. I looked at them and I wondered, and I wondered; how did they do it? You could never get those skirts into the average toilet and it must take about ten minutes to get out of them. Perhaps what John said was true - they took the necessary precautions. I strapped the girls into their car seats and thanked heaven for them; it kept them under control and stopped the chances of a play fight developing in the back seat. I could see them in the rear-view mirror too - and they could see me, two pairs of pale blue eyes - they got their eyes from me and the red hair from Matt - watching every move I made. It was only a short drive home, but the rush hour traffic was quite heavy, and I could never be sure of when we would arrive. For once I was glad the girls were still nappied as there would be no emergency stops for a wee-wee, they could just do it in their nappies and we would change them when we got home. I chided myself for this failure of parenting convention, but I had tried to toilet-train them, their nanny had tried, and Matt had tried, but without much success. I was just hoping we could get them dry enough to send them to school in the next year or so. The traffic stopped completely, and flashing blue lights appeared in the distance. I groaned inwardly. That meant an accident ahead and an incalculable delay. I checked on my charges using the rear-view mirror; Katherine was quietly looking out of the window, and Elizabeth had her eyes closed, probably asleep. I tilted the mirror downwards to inspect the pillows of the nappies between their legs, and it looked like Elizabeth had made good use of hers. That usually meant Katherine would also do so in the next few minutes. Once again I groaned, and tried to think of sandy beaches and hot sun, far, far away; anywhere other than the grey and dismal outskirts of London. We made it eventually and I woke the girls up; they were now too big and heavy to contemplate carrying them both indoors. As they walked up to the front door I noticed that Katherine was also doing the penguin walk that implied a wet and swollen nappy, but I made no comment. I was busting for a visit myself, and not for the first time I found myself envying the girls their self-contained convenience, and their ability to relieve themselves with complete insouciance in the knowledge that the worst they would have to face would be a visit to the changing table and a fresh nappy; I made a point of never scolding them for wetting as it would have made it difficult to get them to accept the need to wear nappies in the daytime at all. I had tried desperately to toilet train them, but the only result had been accidents, damage to carpets and soft furnishings, and painful scenes with tearful children. Finally, in desperation, and in view of the fact we were living in a rented house, I applied "Pembroke Rules" and put them back in nappies day and night. They actually seemed happier that way, and we had no accidents and very few rows even though, according to Gran, they had inherited their strong personalities from me. We got inside and I noted that Matt was not yet home, so I felt thankful we would not have to explain our lateness. The girls waddled off in the direction of the television set, and as they lay on the rug in front of it I was able to check their nappies properly with a finger poked up the leg elastics and a cautious pat underneath. They were both wet , but not excessively, and I could spare a few minutes to sort myself out, feed the cat, and make the tea. Then I returned to the lounge and summoned them for a change. Overriding their protests I shooed them upstairs to their bedroom, closed the door behind us, (a trick I had learned to stop one running off while I changed the other) and hoisted Elizabeth onto the changing table. It was not as large as the one at Pembroke, which could probably have held both girls at once, and Elizabeth's legs now reached over the end. Never mind, I lifted her legs, put a fresh nappy under her and untaped the wet one. I know I should have asked her if she wanted the toilet, but frankly I was tired out myself, and I wanted to get the job done as quickly as possible. Elizabeth objected to the "baby change", and she reached down to try to push away the front of the new nappy as I pulled it up over her tummy, and wriggled and kicked out with her legs. I wasn't having it and spoke sharply to her while I taped the sides down as quickly as I could before helping the slightly sullen child off the table and smoothing her skirt back down. She exchanged glances with her twin sister as she left, as if to say "Mother's in a temper today!" and Katherine obviously took the hint, making no objection as I repeated the exercise with her; she even lifted her own legs and kept her arms well up and out of the way. With them both changed I let them return to the lounge and television as I spent a few minutes on my own appearance, bearing in mind Gran's advice that even harassed wives and mothers should also be lovers too. Thank heaven that Nanny would be back tomorrow and I could get on with things!

I assume if there was no stigma attached I would be wearing them under the same circumstances that I used to wear underwear, in which case, yes, of course. It would be functionally easier.

Tough question! I personally think prefacing it as a way to wind down and relax would diffuse a lot of negativity they might feel towards it.

I would say somewhere between 30 days and before your first sexual encounter. I say 30 days because you can tell within that time if this is something you are going to pursue and if you think this will be something that could have a long last relationship. I also say before a sex because once sex gets involved relationships tend to get more serious(ignoring the booth call or 1

I am on the Sussex/Surrey border, and always looking to make friends

ID Slip, Dry 24/7, Abena M 3&4, Molicare Super plus ABU, Bambino