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  1. Tommy’s Tantrums His tummy was gurgling, it sounded very loud in the quiet of his bedroom but he’d had very strict instructions from his mommy that he wasn’t to leave his bed… for any reason. # Tommy had been a very naughty eight year-old. The previous day he’d knocked over, and destroyed a crystal vase and beautiful bouquet of anniversary flowers his daddy had given to his mommy. He was riding his bike in the house and collided with the display table knocking the entire thing over. So dismayed was he at what he’d done he jumped off his bike too eagerly, caught his foot in the pedals and tumbled in a heap onto the broken glass and squashed the lovely flowers. The fact that he’d been riding in the house, which he knew wasn’t allowed, and had now cut himself as he fell, would, he thought, not bring his mommy to carefully tend his cuts, she’d be very angry indeed. She was. His mother admonished him for what he’d done and then dragged him apologising into the kitchen to get his wounds tended. Luckily, despite ruining the wonderful gift and vase, his mother still administered bandages to the small cuts (he was lucky there was nothing more serious) and, as mommies do, kissed the top of her son’s head before sending off to play quietly elsewhere. Meanwhile, his daddy had promised to take him to the park so he could kick his football around and perhaps meet up with some friends. However, he got so frustrated that his daddy was taking so long to get ready that he started kicking his ball around the garden, another no-no, and yes, it did result in yet more damage as he kicked it too hard and cracked the kitchen window. This action only left his parents, who were already at their wit’s end, wondering what to do with their troublesome son. Later, in a moment of temper, Tommy called his two year-old sister Jenny, a ‘poo-monster’ and a ‘smelly pooey, stinky baby’ and pushed her over so that she went ‘splat’ into her messy diaper. The fact that his mommy had witnessed this nasty act made the naughty boy pretend it had all been a joke. His mother would have none of it and sent him to his room as she tended to her sobbing, and messy, daughter. # “Right young man” He knew he was in serious trouble because of her tone. “The report from your teachers is not impressive, you’ve been bullying other children and your clever-clever, back-chatting insolence has won you no friends at school.” Tommy was about to speak and express his sorrow and apologies, he even adopted his most regretful expression (which usually worked) but his mother held up her hand and continued with her speech. “We’ve all simply had enough of your attitude, your tantrums and the bullying of your sister, and the destruction of the vase, is the last straw.” She then reeled off a list of other misdemeanours that he didn’t know she knew about. “You callously ignore what anyone says and in class you wilfully go out of your way to disrespect teachers and forego even the most basic courtesy.” Tommy gulped at the litany of other things his teacher had told his mother because there were lots of offenses he hoped his parents would never hear about. “So… for the rest of the weekend you will wear what you found so ‘funny’ for your sister to sit in… a diaper” “But, but, I, er,…” Tommy tried to interrupt. “Don’t interrupt me, you’ve been an unholy terror for the past few months and you’ve been getting worse. Your recklessness and insolence today has been the deciding factor … this has been a long time coming.” “But mommy, mommy…” Tears were starting to well in his eyes, this time she could tell that her threat had hit home and for once this was no fake reaction. “… I can’t wear a diaper I’m a, er, big boy, diapers are for babies.” “Yes they are aren’t they?” His mother agreed and raised her eyebrows as if emphasising the point. “And you have been behaving like one… wanting your own way, throwing tantrum after tantrum if you didn’t get it… so now you will be treated as one.” The floodgates opened and he bawled his refusal to allow it but his mother grabbed him and slapped his bottom. It wasn’t hard but with enough force to make sure he realised she was serious. “If you don’t do as I say you’ll be in them for school as well, so it’s your choice.” This threat was more than he could endure. The idea of wearing a diaper when none of his classmates did was something that had him sobbing, he knew he’d be ridiculed by the very kids he’d bullied. “It’s, it’s, it’s not fair,” he squealed, “why should I have to wear a diaper?” He was being both petulant and afraid of actually having to wear such an item. Meanwhile, as his mommy left the room, and while he lay sobbing on his bed, he hoped she’d relent like she always did and that he’d gotten away without any real punishment. He hadn’t. # It was six fifteen in the evening and his mommy was running a bath for him. She was completely exasperated with his behaviour and knew that desperate measures needed to be taken. She also hated the idea of disciplining her ‘little boy’ but knew that it was partly due to such an attitude by her that had resulted in the situation they now found themselves in. The destroyed flowers and broken window had finally made her react to the situation instead of hoping it would go away. However, she’d calmed down and, although he was being a bit grumpy, Tommy knew he had to behave. Even though it was early her eight year-old son meekly stripped when ordered into the bathroom and settled in the suds as his mommy gave him a thorough scrubbing. She let him play with his toy boats for a few minutes whilst she went to retrieve a nice warm towel from the airing cupboard. She was gone some time but returned holding his favourite thick, fluffy bath towel, which had the image of a huge squirrel. She wrapped it around and gave him a meticulous drying down before leading him back to his bedroom. He was in for a shock. Set out on the bed was one of his baby sister’s disposable diapers, a pair of pale blue plastic pants and an assortment of powders and lotions, there was also his stretchy, cowboy pyjamas. He looked at his mommy and again started to bawl, pleading with her not to make him wear a diaper. He was screaming, getting hysterical and it was only when his daddy came in that his anxiety subsided. However, any hoped for reprieve from his father was short lived as he told his son in no uncertain terms that any further outburst and he’d be permanently wearing a diaper for school and at all other times as well. “Do you understand?” Like his mother, his father was at the end of his tether wondering how to contain his son’s temper and recent unpleasant demeanour. Right on cue the tantrum kicked in and Tommy was having none of it; screaming, scratching and kicking, hoping above hope that his parents would relent and let him be… after all he was eight and not a baby. It wasn’t to be. # His father dragged his naked son over his knee and gave him a few firm swats. This set him off squealing even more but his protests and weeping were in vain as his father spanked him until he was sure the boy knew who was in charge. Once he’d been subdued his mother quickly powdered her sobbing son, taped him into the tight disposable and pulled up his plastic protection. She then pulled on his stretchy, soft cotton pyjamas, with the elastic cuffs around the wrists and ankles though there was no disguising the thick bulge underneath the cowboy pattern. A tear streaked Tommy looked more like a sobbing four year-old but his parents were being firm; bed now and no getting up playing with toys, reading or watching TV. His computer was confiscated as well as all his little electronic gadgets and once more told that under no circumstances, and they meant ANY circumstances, was he to leave his bed until morning. Tommy was beaten, mentally and physically, and rolled over onto his tummy and buried his tears into the pillow. He’d never been spanked before, in fact, he’d hardly ever been disciplined before and didn’t know what to make of it, except it hurt and he didn’t like it. The huge bulk between his legs emphasising that he was now nothing more than a little baby as far as his parents were concerned, and he could do nothing about it, unless he wanted his daddy to spank him again, which he didn’t. # He cried at the injustice of it all. His sister was younger than him but was still up and watching TV with his mommy and daddy, whilst he, a grown up eight year-old, had been put to bed in a diaper. His daddy had placed Pooh Bear next to him and he clung onto his favourite plushy thinking at least he wouldn’t turn against him. He was even thinking that his little sister had planned all this just to get him into trouble. It never occurred to him that it was his own actions that had made for such an outcome. He was still turning this over in his head when, exhausted by it all, he feel asleep. # Saturday morning and he woke up to find that his tummy was gurgling, it sounded very loud in the quiet of his bedroom but he’d had very specific instructions from his mommy that he wasn’t to leave his bed… for any reason. Despite the thick padding between his legs now feeling substantial it hadn’t stopped him sleeping heavily all through the night, however, he needed to go to the toilet. He wasn’t sure of the time but could hear no movement from any of the family and wondered if he dare make the few feet from his room to the bathroom. The pressure on his bladder made him desperate for a pee; in fact, the gurgling also meant that he needed to make it pretty soon or it would be too late. He lay there in pain trying desperately not to burst when thankfully he could hear the nearby toilet flush and he called out to his mommy that he needed to go. # His daddy came into the room and looked down at his son. “Are you going to be a good boy today?” Moving closer he bent down to face the boy. Tommy was scared, after all it was only last night that this man had spanked him and he could feel there was still a slight soreness to his bottom. “Huh uh.” Was the only response he dare make. As the pressure to pee grew more intense he wriggled uncomfortably under his sheets though for some reason was just too timid to say anything to his daddy. “Well that’s a good boy. Mommy will be making breakfast in a moment and then we’ve got a day at the park planned.” He ruffled his son’s hair. “You’re not grounded for today but you will do what we say or there will be consequences.” His father wasn’t sure if his young son knew what the word ‘consequences’ meant but because of the tone he delivered it in he hoped would make abundantly clear what would happen. Tommy dare not so much as utter a single word; he just looked wide-eyed up at his father and nodded. Once he’d received that understanding he pulled away the boy’s covers and looked to see if his pyjamas were still covering the bulging protection. “Are you wet?” Tommy shook his head but his father didn’t quite believe him so gently pulled at the waistband and slipped his hands down the front of the plastic pants to check. “OK slugger. Well done but, as mommy told you last night, you’ll be wearing these the entire weekend and, because you thought it funny to tease your sister, the toilet is off limits for you.” There was a look of disbelief from Tommy as his daddy emphasised that the diaper was there to be used. # At the thought of him having to use his diaper tears once again began to form and a look of complete dejection filled his face. His daddy almost relented but his wife and he had both decided that drastic action was needed to stop Tommy from getting completely out of control. “But daddy,” he snivelled finding his voice “I’m not a baby. I’m, I’m not Jenny.” “OK son, I know this is difficult but, you have been very, very naughty and when you are you get punished. You’ve been very cruel to your sister and you’ve been doing things when expressly told not to, so now…” “But I’m not a baby, it’s so unfair… I’m, I’m….” he snivelled. “Sorry son but you’ve broken the rules and you need to be disciplined so, for this weekend at least, you are going to be treated like Jenny. She’s too young to understand right from wrong and it would appear so are you. So, for the time being its diapers for you.” Tommy was completely distraught and flung his arms around his daddy. “Please daddy, don’t make me wear… oh… er, I need to go now.” With that sudden movement Tommy felt a brief pain as his bladder reached bursting point and no longer had any control as he let go. Whilst crying in embarrassment, and clinging to his father in support at what was happening, a warm rush of pee swamped his diaper. His daddy patted his son’s padded bottom as the boy continued to weep and his bladder empty. Almost unbidden something else seemed to react to his loaded diaper which he couldn’t stop as his gurgling bowel decided it needed a way out. Even as his father stoked his bottom he could feel the disposable filling up and soon the odour was accompanying the action. # Tommy was still gripping his daddy, weeping like when he was a baby and had just packed his diaper, so his father hugged him tightly until the tears had begun to dry up and he’d calmed down. “Sorry daddy,” he whispered, almost too embarrassed to admit to what had happened. “That’s OK son,” He patted the mushy mess in his full diaper, “let’s go and get breakfast.” “But daddy, I’ve, er, I’ve…” “Yes I know but yesterday you found it funny to shove Jenny over and make her sit in her own messy diaper didn’t you?” The enormity of his crimes where now just about dawning on him. Yes, he had found it funny to make his sister sit in her mess and, with his parents being unaware he’d done it several times before. Also, he knew he shouldn’t have been riding his bike in the house as he’d been warned on many occasions it wasn’t safe to do so, and he’d ruined a special present... and… He began to fill up as his daddy gently led him by the hand from his bed and down to the kitchen. The messy mass in his diaper made it uncomfortable to walk properly. He didn’t want his mommy or Jenny to see him like this and hoped his PJs would hide his accident. He hadn’t noticed how much more obvious his diaper was now it had expanded with the liquid he’d deposited in it. Still led by his father he nervously waddled to the table and reluctantly sat down in his squishy mess. Jenny, being encouraged by mommy, was trying to feed herself and at the same time both caught a whiff of Tommy’s full diaper. “Tommeee done poo-poo.” Jenny said giggling between mouthfuls but carried on eating as if it was quite normal. His mother took pity on him. “Don’t worry sweetheart, we’ll get you all cleaned up after breakfast when we see to Jenny.” #tbc#
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  2. I make really good flapjack.
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  3. The best thing? Shining a bright warm light on what it means to like diapers and regression and to tell people that, deep down, it's okay and you're okay.
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  4. You said it. It's their house. You have to live under their rules even though you are an adult. Period. True, I see no harm in a stuffed teddy bear. I suspect there is something you aren't telling us. Were you acting like a baby? Did you have a diaper on? Did she see it? If she saw you playing at being a baby with a teddy bear, yeah, she was most likely shocked and upset. Tell me, at age 28 what do you do for a job, as far as how many hours a week you work, how much you get paid an hour and all. Do you pay your parents any rent? That still won't entitle you to do as you want in their house unless you have a landlord/tenant lease that spells things out including the fact that you must be present and have advanced notice if they need to get into your room, which you can keep locked. Having such a lease would depend on weather your parents would agree to such a thing or say, "No way. Live by or rules, share household expenses or get your butt out". How do you spend your money? What percentage to you put in savings? It seems to me at age 28 and with a job you should have saved enough for a second hand car and the insurance. If you don't have enough for even an extended stay hotel room, you either need to find a better paying job if you can, save more of your money and spend it less on things you may just want, or work more hours. Clarifying that. If you have a job that pays minimum wage, in your spare time look for other job opportunities that pay more. If you only work part time, look for full time employment. If you spend your money on video games, concerts, drinking at the bar, personal things you can do without, cut way back and start banking some money. Until you have saved enough up for a place of your own even if you rent, you are not independent and are at their mercy. DO WHAT THEY SAY NO MATTER HOW MUCH YOU HATE IT BECAUSE RIGHT NOW IT SOUNDS LIKE YOU HAVE NO OTHER CHOICE! Even then, they can decide to kick you out for whatever reason at any time. It may be that your step mom just wants you out for some reason period, it may be they feel it's time you made your own way at age 28. Maybe they are trying to teach you a lesson if they don't think you are working to better your life situation and squandering your money on personal items instead of being thrifty and planning for your own future. Maybe they think you should be doing something more than laying around watching Netflix. I'm not saying they have a valid point at all since I don't know the situation. Regardless, you seem to be in a situation now that puts you at their mercy. Until you get yourself in a situation where you can financially move to your own place and be self sufficient, even if you have a roommate or two to share a place with and share rent and expenses, you have to do what they say no matter if you are an adult or strongly disagree. It rakes a lot to become independent. Good enough job to earn enough money for rent, utilities, food, furnishings, unexpected emergencies, taxes, insurance and basically be the boss and control living on your own. It's not easy (nothing worthwhile in life is) but totally worth it, especially when you are not at the mercy of being told what to do anymore by your parents. It takes hard work and a commitment and you can't always just do what you feel like doing when you have the responsibilities of having to work to earn enough to live and house yourself. I also don't think (it sounds like you are hinting about this) that a member here will invite you to move in with them. With all due respect, it doesn't sound like you would be an asset in helping pay expenses or being able to get to and from your job without your own transportation. I wish you well. Help comes in many forms. Personal help and also advice. My advice is pretty clear here although a hard message and probably not one you were hoping to hear.
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  5. Brenda's mother was something else, she had as much tact as a Sherman tank. She couldn't understand what we still saw in each other that would drive us to having sex like... rabbits, I'm sure she wanted to say dogs in heat.. "Well your lucky I said I haven't kicked her to the curb yet like Kevin had Heather." Heather was Brenda's sister that was three years younger. Menopause hadn't been kind to Heather. She had ballooned up to almost 325 pounds and it had left her incontinent. Her husband kicked her back to mommy. He was screwing anything that would let them screw him. I still loved Brenda. "Well she didnt have much of a life starting out?" "What do you mean I asked? Well if you don't know Brenda started out as a bedwetter." "Yeah I know!" I said. "Heather seemed to grasp things faster than Brenda. This was a barb thrown at Brenda. Toilet training, school work you name it Heather ran circles around Brenda!" "Gaining 200 pounds getting divorced from her playboy husband, yep way ahead" I said firing the warning shots back. I was never one to back down from a debate. I was a clerk for the courts only because my family didn't have the money to send me to Law School! I loved a good debate. The only problem was I was facing her mother, she wasn't an armed person. "It's a problem with her Thyroid gland!" Said Wilma Jean that was her mom's name, even funnier was her husband was Fred! Before her dad died I was always saying Hiya Fred, in my best Barney Rubble sounding voice. Either he was just to polite or he was kind of thick but he never got the referance. "That also causes her incontinence! Your right looks like Heather still is ahead of Brenda, at least she was a kid when she was wetting her bed not a full grown woman!" That was getting on dangerous ground as we both had shown that we were both grown ass people that had wet our own beds last night. Jean didn't need to know that. That shut her up she went to say something and immediately shut her mouth again. The reason I am this way with Jean is that she has always been critical of Brenda, Brenda just never seemed to stack up to Jean's expectations of her. I love Brenda her sister Heather was always snobbish she tried to talk her out if marrying me. Our marriage had always been better than hers. Whenever Jean would visit I got tired of seeing Brenda almost in tears after she left I started to be her knight in shining armor and I started to slay the dreaded dragon named Jean. Wilma Jean never got smart her nitpicking of Brenda never ceased. I was never good enough, our kids were never good enough. Nothing Brenda did was as good as Heather and her family. I've never strayed and screwed several other woman like Heather's Kevin had while still married to her. Our kids had never ended up in Juvie like 4 of her 5 had, two in adults one still in prison. But we're not the good family. It's time that Jean take the rose colored glasses off and smell the manure she has been shoveling about her precious Heather. Brenda loved the way I got her mom to shut up! With me debating her it took the pressure off Brenda and focused it on me. She had always been thankful for that. If it makes it easier I'm okay with that I really still do love love her like the day I married her!
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  6. It seems you have great passion for this. I wish you well in your endeavor. I have always dreamt of doing such projects for myself. I have the passion, a good amount of necessary tools, but lack the place for such things. Maybe someday I will. Anyway, just wanted to wish you well. If I can hook you up with any potential customers, I will refer them to you.
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  7. <Sobbing> for the loss of the stories, RP's that gave me so much joy.
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  8. Thought I'd post an update... It's been a week now, the point where I usually abandoned these full time attempts. Sure enough, I nearly did again... It wasn't anything about being tired or whatever, but after a week, the idea of "what about when I visit family? go on business trips?" The breeds the self-doubt and what generally makes me stop. A couple days ago, that started to really weigh heavy on me. In the evening, I even said "why am I bothering? I never stick with it. I may as well stop". Something odd though, this time. I gave myself permission to stop and I didn't. I started thinking "you're a week in. How will you know if you don't stick it out, at least a little longer?". And, so, I didn't give up. A little background; I've work off and on for a long time, and I'm easily able to "let go" in just about any position, around people, laying down, driving, etc. I'm not sure how that will effect how things progress, but it does mean that for this last week, I've not felt any urgency. As soon as I feel *anything*, I let it go. I've been paying attention to not holding back, even for a minute. This morning, the case I ordered arrived. That was another little "uh oh" moment, oddly enough. Then I took a bath and found that, after even just a week, I could notice pressure building very quickly. Obviously, I had no problem not going, but it was the first, albeit minor, thing I've noticed. So this got me worried too, "do I really want to do this?". I aired out for a while, but now I'm back in diapers... I guess I'll see how long I stick it out. I'm aiming now for "two weeks", which will be a new record for me. I'm sure I still won't see any changes. c.
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  9. I'm now 30 and have been IC off and on through the years due to oab. I really started having major issues about three years ago when I herniated a disc and even after the surgery about a year and a half ago.
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  10. I was in elementary school when I first stated having wetting accidents due to OAB and interstitial cystitis. Ditropan seemed to work for about a year, but the incontinence episodes returned. Tried everything; different
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