randominterestedperson

Oh, I'm very curious what the comment/observation was and what you changed in response. Please share!

I only discovered yesterday that I'm apparently 10%-30% little. Always thought I was a complete diaper lover, making an exception for plushies because they're cute and onesies because they're comfortable, but it looks like that means there's some real littleness in there. I see that most people vote toddler because it gives them more freedom to play, so to say, but I'm going to vote baby for the exact same logic. There's no freedom as a baby, you're essentially helpless and that is kind of scary, it's a complete surrender. I like scary things a lot lately. I'm still figuring out what my littleness means, I'm also a little scared of what I might find out.

Free will is not absolute. We can make our own choices, but our choices are built upon our character, which has been shaped by our genes and our environment. So if you were to adjust character and environment to such a degree that a person only has a single choice left to make, you take away his free will. This has happened to me before. Sometimes things just happen to you, sometimes you are put in an impossible situation where you don't have another choice to make, but that doesn't prevent you from learning from it anyway, repenting, and doing better in the future. Reality is complex, and free will no less so, but complex things can be simplified for convenience and then suddenly all nuance and flexibility disappears.

Thank you for the suggestion. I did some measurements. Fully open: ~1.1 L in 10 seconds -> Flow rate 6.6 L / min Just above the threshold to open: ~0.7 L in 30 seconds -> 1.4 L / min Anything in between those is theoretically possible, but it'd be hard to know exactly where I'm at with the knob. So my choice for the future is whether I want to be filled up in 10 or 45-50 seconds. For a really big one 15 or 60-65 seconds.

Today I learned that I can use my showerhead to give myself an enema. I also learned that that thing fills me up way too fast. And finally, that a Bunnyhopps cannot hold a way too large enema. I'm really going to have to learn the flow rate of my shower head to avoid problems in the future.

A likely part is because it removes all the shame of having this fetish. If you're forced it's not you who decided to do something crazy and thus there can be no blame and shame on you. It's liberating. A second part is that you are then free to enjoy the moment, rather than having to worry or feel responsible over your choices. You no longer have to expend thought and energy over how exactly to work this thing into your life, because it is no longer up to you. Another form of liberation, which you can also recognize in people who like being submissive. A third part is that it instantly creates a person who knows and approves of your predicament, for whatever reason, and thus is voluntarily part of the fetish. Instant connection and approval.

Thank you for the extensive advice/testimony/insight, Little Sherri, I appreciate it. Maybe I should tell you that I do wear onesies all day, every day (so comfy). For the most part that's all I need. I'm not avoiding people so I can wear diapers, and I'm not counting down the days until I can do so. I even got used to wearing a onesie to the doctor and other places I may need to undress. It's just twice or thrice a year that my head is stuffed with diapers and won't leave me alone for a while. I don't mind waiting to wear them, and as a strong introvert I need my alone time regardless, so it's easy enough to combine the two. Don't have a girlfriend, so how both of those will work when I do I'll have to work out with her. Finally, there are also plenty of times that I don't want to wear diapers in the first place. So I wouldn't be happy with 24/7 long-term anyway (I'm glad it works for you, it's just not for me).

Thank you for the suggestions, but that doesn't work for me for two main reasons: I can't wear diapers all the time. When I wear diapers, I'm still distracted. Diapers are a very physical thing for me, I want to hold and touch them all the time, which isn't feasible when I have other things to do. It's also not really about comfort for me. In fact, that they're kind of intrusive is part of why I like them.

There are still sane people in this community and in this world. Don't leave and please speak your honest truth. Holy irony, batman.

Anybody have any advice on how to deal with those moments where you can't get the diapers out of your head but you have other priorities?

Chapter 10: ----------- By friday the leash that was supposed to go with my collar had arrived. Cynthia strode into my house triumphantly as I opened the door, wearing my collar like a good girl. Her steps were certain and measured, raising her hand right exactly at the right time to begin pushing me backward without breaking stride. The front door fell closed behind her and I had no idea how she had managed to do that. She had a level of glee in her that I was pretty sure I had not seen before. Where she had been gentle and tender on our prom night, the morning she was eager and lustful, ready to show me all corners of the room. It was a little confusing, both scary and exciting, but at least for once I wasn't eager to please her, I was eager to see what she would do to me. In a sense, I was waiting to see how she was going to bring me to new heights, how she was going to please me. Maybe it should've felt like opposite day, but relationships are give and take. Even a submissive needs to be pleased. Her fingers first slid gently under my top, yet even before it was off she was already lost in her passion, kissing me furiously while she practically tore off my clothes. She didn't seem to have enough hands, trying to take off my bra at the same as opening my trouser button at the same time as caressing my breast. With my trouser button finally open, one hand moved in to play with me through my panties. Soon she was playing with me in my panties and biting my nipple. Hard. Hard enough to make me open my eyes and right then she clicked the leash on my collar. Maintaining a smile, she booped my nose with her wet middle finger, sliding them to my mouth and giving the leash a short firm tug. I sucked my juices off her finger. She was holding my face close to hers, giving me a quick peck on my cheek while at the same time giving my pants a tug downward. She didn't get very far with just one hand, so I finished for her. With my jeans a puddle next to my feet, the only thing left on my body were my now sticky panties. She eyed them for a few seconds and then said "no, take them off too." For a while, she just had fun parading me around my house in the nude, occasionally stopping to pull me close and tease me. It grew frustrating, the constant walking and teasing and not getting any closer to real pleasure. When I tried to stop her from teasing me, she simply gave me a stern "no!" But at least she also gave my sex a little more attention. Until I began moving my pelvis along with her rubbing, then she stopped. "Dirty girl," she whispered and gave me a single spank on my bottom. If anything, that just made me hope she would bend me over and take me with a strap-on like we had done that night that seemed longer ago than it was. Entering the kitchen, I saw my chance to give a hint and simply bent over the kitchen table, spreading my legs and showing off myself. All a bit awkward because the leash got in the way. Cynthia simply went "stay" and gave my bottom another spank. And then another, and before I well realized it I was biting down trying to endure a spanking that warmed surprisingly quickly and had me dancing with every strike. "Are you going to be a good girl?" Cyn asked a good minute before I realized it. Opening my eyes I found them wet, but not wet enough for tears. More the wetness you get when trying to hike through a frosty wind. I nodded my agreement with the rules and then whispered a "yes". "Good," she smiled. "Do you want to kiss my ass?" She asked as if it were a real question. I could only nod again. She was wearing jeans and had no intention of lowering them at the moment, so I could only kiss her pants. Kissing jeans is not as intimate as literally kissing ass, which makes it more humiliating in a bad way. Humiliation as a kink is really only fun when it's intimate, when it's baring your vulnerabilities at each other. Pants restrict that intimacy and puts up a very weird barrier that just creates distance between the people involved. It's almost like the person whose jeans you are kissing really means the humiliation. It's a little weird. There's an exception of course, and that's when that person is wetting her jeans at the same time. At that point there's no denying the kinkiness of the situation and it's too absurd to be serious. But I digress. All of that is not something that we figured out at that moment, I felt a little weird and Cyn must've noticed, because she told me to get down on all fours. At which point she began to stroke me on the head and went "good girl," followed by a kiss on the forehead. She left the leash hanging on a chair while she rummaged through my cupboards looking for something. She grabbed a chair to look through the higher ones, soon followed by an "aha!" and triumphantly jumping off the chair. She was holding a shallow bowl that she began to fill with water. I must have reddened because she seemed to be holding back a giggle when she returned to me. "Drink sweetie," she said as she stroked my hair again. As I began to drink, her attention wandered to my bottom. She gave it a soft carress but I couldn't help but twitch anyway. I was still sore and sensitive. "Stay," she said as if I really were her pet and disappeared into the hallway. I could hear her going upstairs, not sure why, so I figured I would try to be a good girl and kept drinking from my bowl. Lost in my mind after that, the first time I noticed Cyn was back was when a sudden icy hand on my bottom made me spill what was left of the water all over the kitchen floor. Cyn told me to hold still and proceeded to rub ointment all over my sore behind. It felt cool, yet that contrast reinforced the heat of the spanking for a few seconds first before it began to soothe the aches and kind of reminded me a little bit of wearing a diaper. "Sit," Cynthia commanded as she grabbed a towel to mop up the spilled water. I gently sat back on my knees, afraid to brush my bottom on my heels, but when it happened it almost didn't irritate at all. And I found myself biting my lip and moistening. "I'm horny," I dared to say halfway between whispering and out loud. "Ass up!" She commanded and automatically I obeyed. She gave me another resounding spank which stung like hell on my already sore bottom. "Naughty girl," she said, and when she noticed me gritting my teeth: "See? That's what you get when you're not good." "Sorry," I offered quietly. Cyn smiled, petting me on the head, running her fingers through my short hair. "It's alright, we'll try again." With the water cleaned up, she took my leash in hand again and began to lead me around the house. Still on my hands and knees and naked, it was a bit embarrassing to be paraded around like this, even if no-one else could see it. That shame also made it exciting and a turn on, especially because Cyn was holding my leash. Climbing the stairs was challenging and my knees did not appreciate the effort. Cyn did, squatting to give me a kiss. She led me into my bedroom where she put the leash around the leg of my bed. It may seem a bit silly because I could just remove my leash from my collar, yet she knew I wouldn't. I knew I wouldn't. Finding a comfortable position to sit took some trial and error. Though my butt did not exacly sting, it was still uncomfortable to sit on after a while and now that my knees wanted some rest too, the most comfortable position I could find was lounging like a mermaid. Well, maybe I could have laid down on my stomach, but I'm pretty sure that Cyn would not have appreciated that. It didn't seem appropriate at the time either. The position put my sex front and center in my mind. I tried to keep my attention on Cyn, but my awareness kept wandering back. Cynthia didn't pay attention to me for a while. She was too busy searching my room. At one point, she grabbed the diapers from under my bed, pulled one out, turned to me, and then changed her mind. She didn't say a word. And then, when she tired of searching: "Where did the vibrator go? You know, the one you had in you all morning a few days ago." She bit her lip after that last bit. "Didn't you take it home?" I wasn't sure of course. The day in question had been an intense one, mostly filled with either a vibrator buzzing away in me or being asleep. I had been in no position to notice anything. "I did not." I had no clue. I had not encountered it since that day. "Sorry, Mistress Cyn," I said playfully, "I do not know where it went, I was asleep at the time." Cyn looked at me for a second. "I should spank you anyway, are you still sore?" Her serious tone turned teasing at the end. "Did you wash it after?" That seemed a reasonable guess. We'd played some dirty games and Cyn was not afraid of body fluids, yet she also did a good job cleaning up. Or making sure I cleaned it up. "Yes, and I-" she left the room as she spoke, then turned around and came back in. "And I still don't remember where I put it." Her attitude of authority was gone for a little bit there. It was strange to see her that way, but the uncertainty she radiated in that instance really made her seem human. Less larger than life and more someone about to yell "mo-om! I can't find my vibe!" I giggled. Cyn did not appreciate the gesture. To make up for it, I offered to service her myself, but that was not what she was after. She sighed and uncoupled me from the bed. It was not what she had planned and that was plainly readable on her face. So instead she led me to the living room and told me to wait in front of the couch. She came back with two small blankets. One she spread on the ground right in front of the sofa. "Sit," she followed up with once she was done. I blushed. I must have blushed. Regardless, I listen and sat on the blanket. Cyn herself sat on the couch as close to me as she could get. Once she was comfortable, she gave the leash a tug to pull me close and then began to stroke my hair behind my ear. It didn't take very long to get used to and only a little longer to start enjoying it. She switched it up a few times, scratching on top of my head or grabbing it from both sides and giving me kisses on the forehead. "You make a cute pet," she said after a while. I made use of the broken silence to let her know my bladder was full. "Uhm, Cyn? I need to pee." The smile she had lost in my room shot back across her face in full force and a little more. She looked devilish in that instance. "Well, I guess I'll have to let you out then." My gut instinct poured out of my mouth: "Nope. No. No-no. Nononono." Cynthia ignored my objections altogether and more or less dragged me to the back door. There was little I could do to object, and even though I wasn't really okay with it, I still felt myself half-heartedly following her lead. It was just what I had been doing all that time and it came automatically. At the back door I started to struggle against my leash. Cyn put on her calming face and said: "Ensie sweetie, if you go on the floor, I'm going to have to rub your face in it. Now do you have to go or not?" I did. "Please just put a diaper on me?" I asked. I didn't mind a diaper. In fact, I liked the diapers because they were a physical presence of Cynthia's control over me. "Sorry sweetie, but pets have to go outside on the grass." I didn't dare look at Cyn anymore, I just swallowed and let her lead me outside. I prayed that my neighbours weren't home and thus couldn't see me. She didn't just let me go, she led me around half the back yard before she paused at a bush. She didn't say anything, she just waited for me to go. I imitated what I knew, lifting up a leg and trying to aim my pelvis at the bush. I wasn't very successful, I started by dribbling pee over my leg until I put enough pressure on it to make it go. By the time I was done, I was once again dribbling over my leg. Cynthia was squatting next to me when I was done, going "good girl" and petting me on the head. She wore her excitement on her face. It took her only two steps inside before she pulled my face into her sex, taking just enough effort to make sure her skirt wasn't in the way. She didn't apply the same effort to her panties, so I did it for her. I ate her out right there in the kitchen, and more than once too.

Chapter 9: ---------- Cyn started stepping her game bit by bit at that point. We had the freedom and the time to experiment and that is exactly what she did. She didn't put me back in diapers the next day, instead she had me back in my prom panties. She used the cuffs to tie me to the foot of the bed, face down and ass up. She pulled out a vibrator and got to work on my clitoris. This was only the first real orgasmic action we had since prom, so it took a while before she managed to get me going. She never took off my panties, she just kept stimulating me through them, eventually turning them into a clingy wet mess. As she massaged my clitoris with the vibrator, she gently caressed the insides of my thighs until I could stand the sensation anymore and erupted in orgasm. Despite not having done anything myself, I lay panting into the bedsheets. Cynthia, however, didn't have an ounce of mercy. Pushing aside my wet panties, she simply slid the still buzzing vibrator into me, pulled the panties back over it, and went to make breakfast. She didn't even say anything, she just left the room, leaving me in a situation that was more like torture than stimulation. She did come to check up on me quite often, but she left me there until noon without giving me a moment of respite. By the time she came to stroke my hair, my face was already stained with tears and drool and I was aching for either release or another orgasm. Just a vibrator really doesn't get you off. "How are you holding up?" She asked after a few moments, wiping my cheeks. I had no idea how to respond, if I even could. Like always I wanted to please her, but saying I was fine was what she really wanted and while I'm pretty sure I wanted out, my whole world was overwhelmed by the vibrator. So I said nothing. That must've worried Cynthia a bit, because she started with detaching the cuffs on my wrists, and then untied the ones on my ankles from the bed. I was too stiff and sore to actually move and sit up, and I still had a vibrator buzzing away at my sex. She turned it off and took it out. The feeling did not disappear. Everything still felt like it was vibrating, though it did so in a completely different way. The sudden change in feeling brought new tears to my eyes. Cynthia guided me to lie on my side at first, gently stroking my cheek and making gentle cooing sounds. Once the buzzing feeling started subsiding, I began to come back to my senses as well. "Hey there," she said when I finally looked up at her. I think I said a hoarse 'hi' back, but I'm not sure. Either way, after a while she asked "too intense?" At first I just nodded, but I kind of felt the need to talk about it. It just seemed important to, I didn't want her to held back too much. Yes, that experience had been very intense and yet I still wanted to be hers, to be bent in ways that, though they were uncomfortable for me, brought her joy. "A little, maybe." That was as far as I managed to get with saying how I felt. I was too drained to really talk. Cyn seemed to have figured that out too, since after waiting a second or two for me to continue she went "let's go eat." She helped me up off the bed, slowly. Even taking our time, the moment I got up my bladder refused to hold and just let go. I peed right through my soaked panties. With all the sweating I'd been doing all morning, there wasn't a lot of it however, and the puddle that formed at the side of the bed was barely bigger than my foot. "That's ok, Ensie sweetie, I'll clean that up." There wasn't a second of hesitation before her reply. She simply took it in stride. She tore the undersheet off her bed and simply mopped up the mess with that. "Let's eat first," she said once the wet spot was soaked up. She did pull my panties off me and threw them on the sheet first. Food was waiting for us downstairs. Cyn had foreseen that I would be weak so she'd purposely made something that didn't require a lot of chewing, though I can't remember exactly what she had made. I ate slowly but a lot. By the time I was done, I wasn't just exhausted, I was groggy as well and practically falling asleep on the table. "Hey, you should take a rest," Cyn said, gently rubbing my shoulder. She helped me to the living room, where she plopped me down on the sofa. With a jolt, she woke me back up, holding a diaper and a shirt, and a blanket thrown over her shoulder. "I just wanted to let you sleep, but given what happened upstairs you need a little protection, ok?" I'm not sure I even gave her an ok anymore. In fact, that next thing I remember is her waking me up by shaking me. "... parents. Wake up, dammit, your parents are here and your diapered butt is showing." It took me just a few seconds longer to register was was going on. Cyn had no time to pay attention, she was just trying to get me in pants the whole time. Later she told me that she did consider a skirt but she thought it was too likely to still accidentally show off my underwear. We managed to get me dressed before my parents even touched the door. That was good. The biggest surprise, however, was that Cynthia had prepared a whole new cooked meal for the four of us. And the kitchen even looked cleaner than before. Afterward, alone on the couch, I said: "You let me sleep." I was kind of surprised, because I had expected that at the very least she wanted my attention the rest of the day. "I'll always take good care of my Ensie," she answered while gently stroking my hair. Taking good care of me didn't prevent her from sitting on my face the next day. When she rang the doorbell that morning, she was wearing only a loose shirt and a short skirt. Not too tiny, really, it covered everything very nicely and it reached over halfway to her knees. It even widened a little. She lifted the skirt for half a second to show me that she wasn't wearing anything underneath. Unlike previous visits, she did not immediately get on with it. She started the day by re-establishing the rules. "Now that we see each other practically every day, we'll say that you only need to ask permission to use the bathroom when we're actually together. Otherwise you can just go." That was a worrying change to me. I'd gotten very used to having to text her to ask or beg for bathroom privileges and I kind of liked it, because it meant I got a lot of attention. No longer having to do that seemed like Cynthia was tiring of me. That soon turned out to be far from the truth. After laying out the new rules, Cyn took my hand and led me into my own living room. It was always nice when she took charge, because it made my fears melt away. All I had to do was follow. She closed all the curtains in the living room, turned on the tv and put on a movie. It was a romantic movie and not a particularly good one. Once that movie was done, she put on another one. I spent the whole morning snuggled up to her, my head resting on the side of her chest, Cyn caressing my side the whole time. I don't remember exactly when, but somewhere during the second movie, Cyn couldn't hold it in anymore, sat on my lap and started kissing me furiously. By the time the movie was done I was topless and my hands were all over Cynthia's soft butt. "I think the movie stopped," she said, suddenly disconnecting our mouths. She was biting her lip and still playing with one of my nipples. "We really should eat." My head was spinning and for once I protested. "I'll just eat you," I suggested. Well, "suggested". It was more of a desperate desire to keep going. Food was just not on my mind right then. Cyn didn't say anything, she just pushed me flat on the couch and climbed on top of my face. At first it was suffocating and quite impossible for me to stimulate her, but with some effort on both our parts and a little help from the armrest we managed to find a position that covered my face in Cynthia's vulva and still gave me enough room to bring her to orgasm. That didn't happen all at once, of course. This was only the second time I was on the giving end of oral sex for Cynthia and I needed some time to get into it again. Aside from that, it's actually quite a lot harder when you're lying on your back and your girlfriend's sex is smothering your face. Luckily, it's also a lot kinkier and thus more exciting, which makes up for the extra time needed. By the time I made her orgasm, my face was wet and sticky and I'm pretty sure she peed a little on me. Even so, she kissed me afterward. And then she forbade me from washing my face until just before my parents came home. She spent the whole evening smiling on the couch next to me, giggling every time our eyes met.

Chapter 8: ---------- I opened my front door naked, as Cynthia had demanded via text not five minutes before she arrived. "Good girl," she complimented as she petted me and then gave me a kiss on the forehead. Even enjoying the somewhat embarrassing compliment, I closed the door behind her as fast as I could, so none of the neighbors would get the chance to see me in the nude. She softly ran her middle finger along my lower lips. Gentle, teasing, absolutely confident that every inch of me was hers. She followed me into the living room, where I had subtly half-closed the blinds so that no-one could actually look into the house. She was wearing a backpack, but not for long, as she put it down and opened it right there in the middle of the room. "A diaper?" I asked, expecting more of what she had already done to me. But surprisingly she replied "no." I couldn't actually see into the backpack, so I had no idea what was coming. I thought I heard plasticy crinkles in there though, kind of like the outer layer of a diaper or a pad, but I couldn't actually be certain with what little experience I had with diapers. They might actually sound different, I hadn't exactly paid attention to that the last time. I tried to sneak a peek, but Cynthia kept herself between me and the pack. "Look, there will probably be diapers coming, but you have to earn them first," she said when I kept trying to see. "For now just close your eyes and be patient or you're getting an extra spanking." An extra spanking, which meant I was getting one regardless. That seemed more than a little unfair, but once again it was something that got me turned on. I started to get on to the fact that having her in charge and having nothing to say on that always had that effect. Maybe I should have thrown a tantrum then, just to see what she would do, but I was still too timid. Now I know better of course, it's a lot more fun for the dom if he or she actually has to assert their dominance. Well, for the ones I know anyway, maybe there are exceptions. In any case, I was a good girl and closed my eyes and waited. First she put something heavy around my neck, which she then tightened from behind. A collar, obviously, but I had no experience with them before then so I didn't know. She tightened it a notch at a time, each time asking if it wasn't too tight. When I said "maybe" she loosened it a notch, then changed her mind and retightened it. "Can you breathe?" She asked, and when I nodded she said "good. But do let me know if it gets harder." She then added matching cuffs to my wrists, I say matching because I now had my eyes open and was watching what was going on. Cynthia didn't complain. In fact, she seemed to enjoy how intently I was watching her. When she was done, she grabbed me by the collar and kissed me, then put me on my knees. She didn't say, but she had forgotten to get a leash. She managed to rectify this by the end of the week. For the moment, however, she simply raised her skirt and lowered her panties and pushed her bottom in my face. "Kiss," she said. She hadn't needed to because I already knew exactly what to do. And that is what I did. "Now, Ensie sweetie, show me your bedroom," Cynthia said. She hadn't actually visited my house yet, making it quite impossible for her to know where everything was. Thus rather than going directly to my room, I showed her everything. The kitchen, the bathroom, my parents' room, and then my own. My room was quite different from her own. Hers was much neater than mine. I had posters all over the walls, books and clothes lying around, though mostly in neat piles, and a bed that was simply not made. "You're such a good girl," she complimented once again. "Now, do you need to go?" She had actually let me go in the morning, making my bladder pretty much empty. I shook my head no. "Then drink this," she said, "and clean up your room. What a mess." She gave me a good smack on my bottom for the cluttered state of my room. She sat back and enjoyed the show of me tidying up my room for her. Whenever I came within reach, she smacked my bottom and I gave her a "thank you". She hadn't told me to, but it seemed appropriate. Naturally, by the time I was done I had finished the bottle of water and my need to pee was on the rise. Or rather, I knew I could go if I let go, but there was no real need yet. It was up to Cyn to decide how and where anyway, so I simply presented myself to her. "How's your bladder now?" The question was not as eager as might be expected. Instead it was measured and probing. What exactly she was looking for I could not guess. "I could go." She understood exactly what I meant. As she often did when thing went her way, she smiled. "What do you think? Have you earned your diaper yet?" Those probing eyes were gone in an instant and she was once again looking at me the way she did that night after the dance. "Yes," I answered rather carefully, trying to please her both by saying what I thought she wanted to hear and by still being submissive. I reinforced the latter by looking at the ground, slightly dreading what her answer might be. I would do anything she asked and I was pretty sure she had far more embarrassing tasks in her head than I could possibly dream up. Well, she used to anyway. I know just as many now. "Oh? And why is that?" She grabbed my chin to give me another quick caress of the lips. "Because I proved I need diapers by wetting my pants a couple of weeks ago." Cynthia's eyes practically sparkled. She had never seen and would not ever see someone quite as submissive as me. Someone willing to take the blame for something they did not do and make the humiliation their own. And make no mistake, admitting that you need diapers because you wet yourself is humiliating regardless of truth and purpose and kinks. "Well," she said before swallowing as if she had her heart stuck in her throat. "Putting it that way, taking good care of my sweetest Ensie would mean putting her in diapers." I blushed. There was something there that I could not describe, something that made me feel like I truly belonged. That was weird to me at the time, that I could yet have deeper emotions for someone who I had already slept with. Someone I had given my virginity to, no less. "I will always take good care of my little Ensie," Cynthia said as she lay me down on the bed to put that diaper on me. She powdered me and everything, much more skillfully done than the last time. She finished my appearance by pulling a shirt over my head, one she had brought. It was rather tight, but that was as intended, I think. The shirt was striped white and pink and was rather darling. Not at all me, which was likely the point. Just as Cynthia pulled me up from my bed, the doorbell rang. We both had the same panicky reaction and looked at each other with the implicit question "what to do now?" After a moment's pause, she suggested "I'll go see who it is." I could only nod my agreement, terrified that someone might see me like this. Cynthia disappeared into my parents' room to take a peek out their window, guessing that would be where she could see the front door from. Which was not exactly right, not unless whoever rang the bell stood back far enough. A few moments later I heard her make her way to the living room. She made her way back to my room quickly. "It's Rebecca," she said. And then, casually, "you can go open up." If my eyeballs were ever in danger from popping out of their sockets, it was then. No words would come out of my mouth to plead with her at first. Instead, I gave her my best puppydog eyes. They made no impact. Eventually I managed to mutter "please?" But Cynthia just shook her head no. Tears began to well up. Looking at her made me want to be strong nonetheless, so I presented my arms for her to take the cuffs off of them. Again she shook her head no. I'm pretty sure tears were running across my cheeks at that point, but I knew who was boss, so all I had left was to sniffle the question "can I have some pants or at least a skirt?" She smiled at the question and, as if to emphasize her previous denials, she leaned in and whispered "no" in my ear. When I still hesitated, she sent me out of my own room to go open the front door with "come on now, Ensie my darling, it's not polite to keep guests waiting." Each step toward the front door came slowly, even with Cynthia right behind me to keep me moving forward. She didn't really push, yet her hand was definitely insistent as it rested on my back between my shoulder blades. The front door felt as if it was going to crush me every step of the way, even when I was holding the knob. Especially when I was holding the knob. Rebecca was looking at the living room's window, probably wondering if anyone was actually home. That's how long I took to actually open the door. Of course, once she noticed I had opened the door her jaw practically dropped to the floor. "Ensleigh, what are you... Ens... What?" "Please come in," I practically begged of her before anyone else had a chance to see. Not that that was actually going to happen. She hadn't noticed my tone, she was too busy staring at me. Thankfully, she did come in. Before I could ask her to sit down she asked "is that what it looks like?" "Yes, it's a diaper," Cynthia confirmed matter-of-factly, already sitting down in one of the single chairs behind me. Rebecca had not even noticed her yet before then. After that question, Rebecca's stare bored into her. "Was this her idea?" Rebecca asked, refocusing on me. I couldn't think of anything and Cynthia only nodded to encourage me when I looked at her. I could only repeat what I had already admitted to my girlfriend, possibly even more redfaced than I already was. "I need diapers because I wet my pants." "Ens, that is fucking crazy. Even if you wet your pants once, she has no right to put you in diapers!" So much for being a closed book. I don't remember whether I was too nervous or whether I thought that that was what Cynthia wanted me to do, but I wet my diaper right there and then. Rebecca paled and swallowed. Silence dragged on for a while, me standing in the middle of the room with my best friend and my girlfriend staring at me and my wet diaper. Embarrassing, but not as embarrassing as I was nervous at what either of them might say at any moment. My heart was beating in my throat and I was too terrified to look at them. Instead I looked at my feet, right past the pale yellow bulge of my diaper. Rebecca eventually sighed and mumbled something under her breath. "Can I change her diaper?" She addressed Cynthia and her usual reserved nature was back, not revealing just how much she wanted that. She had a crush on me, remember? "Oh, no-no, she doesn't need a change yet," Cynthia answered as sweetly as she could manage. "What? You're just going to let her stay in a wet diaper?" "Rebecca!" Cynthia took on a motherly tone, springing the trap that she set up with her sweet tone. It certainly had its effect on Rebecca who had to swallow again and automatically focused on her. "If I put her in a new diaper every time she used it, I'd be changing diapers all day. She'd go through dozens of them and those things actually cost money, dear." With a deep breath Rebecca countered "then put it on me so it won't go to waste." Even with her trying to defend me like this, I still didn't see that she had a crush on me. I could tell just from Cynthia's tone that suggestion did not sit well with her. "That would be a tad too intimate, don't you think? Besides, you clearly don't need diapers, you haven't even wet your pants." That was a terrible thing to say, in hindsight. Rebecca seriously developed a case of wanting to be in our little private group and she tried to do that by wetting herself. In public. That was not a good day. I think we were lucky that day that Rebecca didn't need to pee or she would have wet herself right there and then. Well, either that or she simply couldn't yet. Wetting yourself the first time is not easy. As I already said, my first took a long time and that was because you have a strong mental inhibition against peeing yourself from potty training. You're not really aware of it, but it's there and getting past it requires either a lot of desperation or a strong belief that doing so is ok. "I think I should go," Rebecca said after a while. There was a hint of defeat in her words, the tone of her voice did not betray any such emotion however. I was too preoccupied with my situation at the time to really realize what her visit had been about. Obviously she had come to talk about Cynthia and me and how I hadn't told her before the dance. Maybe if I had talked to her then, she wouldn't have had to go to such extremes to get my attention later. Well you can't change your mistakes, only learn from them. She left without much of a hassle. When she was gone Cyn smacked me on my bottom accompanied by a "naughty girl". My ignorance of what I'd done must've been readable on my face because she took one look at me and explained "you wet yourself without my permission." "Sorry," I offered. That wouldn't do, of course. An apology is just acceptance of guilt, the only way to make up for your mistakes is to accept punishment. Cynthia really did love to put me in the corner. She undid my diaper, laid it out in the corner and then pushed me face down into it. "And now you can think about what you did for a while." While I lay there in the corner, my bottom was suddenly struck. I yelped in surprise and nearly fell over. It was a sensation I didn't know. Cynthia had spanked me before but this felt more like a claw scratching my backside. It was a flogger, which has the lovely property that individual strikes are felt but not really painful. And that means that you can go on for a while, as the gradual build up also stretches the tolerance for pain for the person on the receiving end. So that's exactly what Cynthia did. After a while she stopped on her own. "How are you not crying yet?" She asked. "We've been at this for over half an hour." I had to take a few breaths to answer and I decided to go with humor. "The diaper has been soaking up my tears." Cynthia giggled at that. "And I will take any pain you want to give me, there's no gift from you I will deny." The rest of that day was all about getting comfortable. She allowed me to take a shower after she was done flogging me and before she put a new diaper on me. It didn't look like those were going be left out any time soon. She personally made dinner, and the afternoon was filled with cuddling on the couch.

That's not my thing, but thank you for the suggestion, maybe it can help someone else.

Hello all. Maybe this doesn't exactly belong in this forum, but I had a weird realization: I rarely (read: never) see any stories about diapered maids, whether those are genuine maids or kinky maids or sissy maids. And I was wondering why, because in my mind that's definitely something ABDL's would love to read. Am I wrong? Are there actually diapered maid stories around and I have just missed them? Are these not as attractive to ABDL's as I think? Or do writers simply prioritize other kinds of stories? Thoughts?