nonny

I was a bit of a late bloomer with keeping my pants dry in the daytime. I have many, many memories of having wet my pants a little (sometimes more than a little) and trying to hide it, from about age 4 to 7. I was a bedwetter too pretty often until then and occasionally until I was 9. But I don’t think wearing diapers (even when I actually was a baby) ever crossed my mind until puberty, when my embarrassed feelings from all my childhood “accidents” got tangled up with new sexual feelings. My memories of losing control and wetting suddenly took on a very unexpected erotic aspect. I was a 13-year-old boy and I wanted to pee my pants. That naughty, confusing turn-on (which I secretly indulged over and over again) quickly included a new fascination with what it was like when I was a baby, still in diapers and baby pants, and it was normal to pee my pants. I actually imagined being a baby pinned in diapers the first time I wet myself on purpose as a “big boy.” I think it was partly because as babies we all have permission from our loving parents to just let go and be wet... all those good feelings, without any self-consciousness or shame. That’s just what babies do and what diapers are for. I didn’t know much about diapers at that point. I didn’t know how long babies wore them. For years afterwards I just had makeshift ones I made out of towels or T-shirts, pillowcases or receiving blankets. But I sure enjoyed playing with them. I learned how to fold them from the diaper section of my parents’ copy of Dr. Spock’s Baby and Child Care. I did a lot of secret laundry that smelled a bit like a baby’s room. A year or two into my diaper and wetting play, I found an old pair of diaper pins that I’d probably actually worn many times as a baby, and that somehow made it all sweeter and more real. I would wet my diapers or relive accidents I had in my pants as a little boy on days when I was alone after school. Sometimes I let go and made my pants all wet as I reread the Dr. Spock pages on diapers and toilet training and bedwetting, or the diaper ads in my parents magazines...

Yes, I’m like you Rusty, I actually do it (follow an urge and become a little boy in a poopy diaper or pants) maybe once or twice a year, but think about it much more often. And that does include occasional moments of curiosity or regret about missed opportunities that might’ve been ‘just right.’

I don’t have any memories of my diapers or toilet training at all, or even of my younger sister’s. My earliest memories are of being in the bath with particular bath toys — a plastic submarine, a frog that squirted water — and being washed and dried and cuddled by my mom. I remember riding on a little orange plastic riding tractor in the front yard. I must be three or four in these memories. I still wet my bed, a lot, but for some reason my mom never had us in diapers or even training pants for that. I would just wake up in wet pyjamas and sheets. I don’t remember anything different than that. I wish I did. I long to have diaper memories. I remember it coming as a shock a few years later to notice that the laundry hampers my sisters and I used had the logo of the Stork Diaper Service on them. That hamper had been my diaper pail, full of my wet and (gulp) dirty diapers. Me, in diapers? I couldn’t even imagine being that little. I found the idea of ever being in diapers squirmingly embarrassing and always hoped none of my friends would ever notice that logo in my bedroom. Especially since I still wet my bed sometimes, and (blush) it occasionally smelled a little bit like a baby’s room in there.

Your message is really respectful of the needs and boundaries of your partners. I just wanted to tell you how thoughtfully it reads, sad but kind. If anything it seems like your own wishes and hopes have been held back for quite a while out of consideration for others, plus your own shame about this part of your fetish. (Which I understand, because I share that shame about my own occasional, very desired, always alone poopy diaper and poopy pants play.)

Yep. Everyone here who's been a parent of a toddler knows this is the reality. Heads often turn, noses wrinkle and amused or slightly embarrassed eyes meet from across the room just after a snugly diapered 2 or 3 year old has "done it." I love pooping in my diapers or my pants sometimes. But it's a rare thing because it needs the time and privacy to keep it to myself.

I was 13, no one told me much about puberty, and I accidentally got the new pleasures of my growing body all tangled up with old childish memories of being desperate and wetting my pants. In that first rush of discovery, diapers — which had seemed equal parts irrelevant, embarrassing and nasty to me up to then — became Totally Fascinating. The fact that I used to wear them as a baby and pee my pants all day long. What did it feel like? Why couldn’t I remember? How long did I wear them? How could I possibly have not known any better? It was such a weird thing to think about, me in diapers. Not a usual-seeming subject for a new teenage boy, but somehow it sent tingles through my whole body and I wanted to do it. The first time I had privacy I held my pee in all morning, put on two snug pairs of underwear as my “diaper,” went and sat on the toilet with them still on and … let go and wet myself while imagining being a baby in diapers. It felt absolutely fantastic, the warmth streaming all through my undies in such nice places, the relief, the helpless innocence of being a baby mixed with the daring of doing this on purpose, for pleasure. After I’d thoroughly enjoyed every bit of the feeling of wetting myself like a very little boy, I pleasured myelf in my wet undies, twice, like a much bigger one...

Rosalie, I highly recommend to to you this book. It is written by a Pentecostal-raised leading New Testament scholar, whose lifelong study of the Bible from within the church has led him to become an agnostic. What he shares in the book is based on 150 years of study by Christians, for Christians on what is known about when, why, and by whom each part of the Bible was written. This is not particularly controversial knowledge (lots of debate about details and strong evidence for the overall conclusions). He begins the book by saying this is likely what was taught to most ministers, who do not have the courage or the skills to share it with fundamentalists in their congregations, and so they keep silent. He is your age, educated at the Moody Bible Institute and Princeton, and currently teaching in North Carolina. He's the author of 30 books, others of which also relate to this subject, in masterly and fascinating detail. https://www.amazon.ca/Jesus-Interrupted-Revealing-Hidden-Contradictions/dp/0061173940

I never thought I had a “baby” side, and like a bunch of others who have answered this thread I now see that I do. It’s mostly about the diapers… the innocence, loving permission, care and comforting feelings of being a baby again in that way. But it also includes all the cuddles, the trust in the world, the special pleasure of being nursed still as a toddler... For the first time I’m thinking about getting some ‘little boy’ clothes, maybe shortalls, AB training pants or a onesie. One of my earliest fantasies, long before I thought I had a baby side, was of wetting my diaper while being nursed in my mother’s lap. Of course she knows, and she is just lovingly amused. And what could be more babyish and free than that? At the time it seemed like an image of ultimate acceptance of my diaper (and pants-wetting) fantasies — no longer hidden and free of all shame

Every once in a while I get the urge to poop my pants like a little boy. When I do I usually wet them too. I imagine myself being 2 or 3, not long out of diapers, still having lots of accidents, and not yet really bothered or self-conscious about it. I just sort of … don't stop it from happening as if I were still wearing a diaper. I feel all the feelings of it with surprise and curiosity. The warmth and release of wetting all down my pantlegs is so nice at first, and my poop feels cosy and comforting and familiar held against my bum. I go back to whatever I'm doing for a while, like I really would have at that age. Then it starts to get uncomfortable in a different way than my diapers as my peed-in pants cool off. Maybe I imagine my mommy coming in the room and finding me this way, seeming more like a toddler today than a “big boy.” She rolls her eyes as she gets close to where I’m sitting playing with my cars and a familiar scent tells her I’m poopy too. She takes my hand and leads me off to be changed...

This is exactly how my fetish started — with wanting to rediscover what it was like to hold on until I couldn't and helplessly peed in my pants like a little boy. I used to play with those feelings after school on days when I had enough privacy. Sometimes even on the way home from school. (Blush.) I did a lot of secret laundry... I dreamed of having a girl to do it for, and with.

This started for me with a desire to hold on until I lost control and helplessly peed my pants like a little child. That led me pretty quickly to other pee-related games: wetting my bed, lying on my back and peeing all over myself in the bathtub, and — very much — being a baby in wet diapers. So the diapers have been there almost from the beginning, but as part of a bigger fetish.

I chose wiggle, bounce, sit, squat AND stand. It all feels good... And I never lose my fascination with reliving what it was like when I really was a baby and toddler, and really did this, and went contentedly about my exploration and play afterwards in my full pants, doing all of these things.

I was toilet trained by the time I was two, and I don't have any memories of it at all. I don't even remember my little sister being in diapers. What I do remember is having lots of accidents, day and night. I wet my bed about half the time when I was five, fairly often until I was seven, and occasionally until I was nine. In the daytime I had a few full-on classic wet-pants-and-a-puddle level accidents, but mostly I would have lots of little slips of control. One childish warm spurt in my underwear when I was excited or distracted or playing hard, or (this happened a lot) too shy to tell a teacher or caregiver when I needed to go. I think any parent would recognize the look on my face when I'd just "done it" and was hoping no-one knew. I was a little bit wet most days from nursery school through the end of grade one, and was sometimes trying to hide a telltale round damp patch on the front of my pants. My parents were never unkind about it, but they were also terribly embarrassed about bodily functions, and I felt an exaggerated sense of shame whenever I'd "done it." Some of my most shameful memories are of being wet like a much younger child in some public place, or waking up in my pee-soaked sheets and pyjamas (I was a deep sleeper and really knew how to flood my bed) and knowing I was going to have to tell my mom I'd had an “accident” again. I remember waking up from naps all wet when I was lying on my tummy on my little blue blanket at nursery school. I remember wetting my bed in a cabin full of boys at summer camp when I was 7, 8 and 9.

I was 15. I’d been wetting my pants and sometimes makeshift diapers for secret, erotic pleasure for about two years by then. I’d do it after school almost any day I had time alone, sometimes even starting on my way home. It was the most exciting, confusing thing ever. At first it was all about the feeling of 'having an accident,' as I’d done very often as a younger child. But helplessly letting go in my pants felt so good it quickly made me wonder what it was like when I was a baby, with a snug thick diaper between my legs, free to do it anytime and anywhere. Even when I was wetting myself like a baby, pooping my pants didn’t cross my mind as something to try. It felt embarrassing and gross even to know I’d done that when I was little. I had no memories of it. I don’t even remember my younger sister in poopy diapers or pants. But somehow it gradually got more fascinating — what it must feel like. The tipping point was a little cousin, about a year old, visiting and very obviously pooping herself in a slight squat in the middle of our living room, surrounded by my whole family … and then sitting on her bum in it repeatedly, and toddling around perfectly happily for a few minutes with it in her diaper and pants, not minding at all. And her mom and my own parents treating all this as perfectly normal and kind of funny and adorable. She got laid down and changed in the middle of the living room floor in front of everyone, and the mess of it had spread all through her diaper. It kind of made my young head explode how everyone could be OK with this. My aunt laughed at my reaction and told me she’d seen me in poopier diapers than that. And that was the moment that I just had to know what it felt like. I did it a couple of weeks later when I had time and privacy. I put on two pairs of snug underwear as my diaper and acted out just what I’d seen my baby cousin do: stopping and squatting in the exact same spot in my living room, giving just enough of a push to get it started, and then feeling all the feelings of letting my pants fill up like a baby or a little boy having an accident. I even sat in it a bunch of times like she did. It all felt fantastic. I’ve done it occasionally ever since, and I’ve never wondered again why so many babies don’t seem to mind being in a poopy diaper, or even actively resist being caught and changed.

Something like 11 million North American babies poop their pants… Every. Single. Day. It's pretty messy, but it's also surprisingly manageable. Go for it, enjoy it. With just a little bit of common sense it'll all be fine. :-)

I appreciate the honesty of the comments about the smell in this thread, abriform, and rusty pins, and Goden, and jeff142. Add me to those who are skeptical when people describe messing in public places and no-one noticing. I think people very likely do notice, feel thoroughly uncomfortable, and have no idea what to say. (You probably get the benefit of the doubt, with people assuming you're disabled and are horribly embarrassed by what's happened. I think most of them would be well beyond offended if they knew they were being made part of this moment on purpose.) Whenever I read people's 'I got away with it, nobody noticed it' comments I have to wonder if they've never been on an elevator or in a meeting when someone (just) farts and everyone pretends nothing happened. Or if they've never looked after a toddler for more than a few hours... I can remember any number of times when an older baby 'did the deed' while playing quietly at a social gathering and every head in the room turned within seconds, with eyes meeting in total awareness and a twinkle of silent, shared amusement.

The first time I ever went rock climbing, and took a step off the edge of an 80-foot cliff with peers watching, trusting my life to a rope, a harness, a leader I didn't know all that well, and skills I was just learning, my bladder let loose a good-sized spurt in my pants. The wet spot was the size of my fist. I was able to clamp down in an instant and stop it there ... but yes, it's really true that you might pee suddenly and uncontrollably in your pants when you're scared.

The first time I went rock climbing, at about 13. Stepping off the edge of a cliff (not a huge one, but probably big enough to die) and trusting my future existence to the ropes resulted in a sudden out-of-absolutely-nowhere spurt in my pants and a fist-sized wet spot I had to try to hide.

That was the first poop game I ever tried. It was inspired by seeing my visiting year-old baby cousin, who was still learning to walk, pause in the middle of the room, strain, and very obviously poop in the seat of her diaper and tights. Then, as newly walking babies do, she plopped down on her bum right into it a bunch of times over the next few minutes. I thought it was hilarious, gross, and totally fascinating, and as I saw her doing it I couldn't help wondering what it felt like, both to poo her pants (she was wet too), and, after sitting in it, toddle around wearing a dirty diaper that was squishing and spreading against her bottom. I hadn't been around many babies. I don't think I'd ever been with a baby that I knew had pooped in their pants before this. My cousin had just done pretty much the most embarrassing, unspeakable thing I could imagine, right in front of me, and she didn't seem to mind or even be very interested, either as she did it or as the poop was getting sat in and spread around. She was a really big mess when my aunt changed her. It was the first messy diaper change I ever remember seeing. I can't explain why I kept thinking about doing something so messy, smelly and infantile, but curiosity about what it felt like when I was a baby led me to poop into a pile of folded toilet paper I held pressed up against my bum, so poop squished on my bottom the way it might in a diaper. And that was such a surprisingly nice feeling, and doing something so forbidden was so exciting, it made me want to try the real thing, in my pants, like a baby. I imagined it many times and pretty soon afterward I really did it.