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?

I always use LittleForBig. Their onesies are feminine shaped, but a large fits me perfectly. They are comfortable and decent quality, and the seller/company is very friendly and helpful. Never had any issues.

Chapter 7: ---------- When I woke up I was sore all over. The combination of dancing and half a night of intimate pleasure was more exercise than I was used to, and my muscles had noticed. It was still incredibly worth it, if only for the feeling of Cynthia snuggled against my back. One would expect that because of the dynamic of our relationship that I would be the one snuggled up to her, but while sleeping Cynthia was always the one snuggled up to me by morning. As if she showed her own vulnerability only when she was asleep. My best guess is that everybody shows their vulnerability somewhere, even if they are the perfect picture of in control otherwise. I didn't move, I just kept still and enjoyed the moment, letting Cynthia sleep. Until suddenly her head was on my shoulder and she was asking "don't you need to pee yet?" "Just a little," I replied honestly. She got another mischievous grin on her face and said "you should go to the bathroom then." Not exactly what I expected with that grin, and I couldn't help but be disappointed. Both because I didn't really want to get up, and because she wasn't immediately reasserting control. Not that the night before hadn't been absolutely wonderful, but it felt like too much, like I'd been given a great gift without any cost. At the time, I really needed that cost to exist. Nevertheless, I did as she said and got up and went to the bathroom. She came in halfway through. "We didn't take a shower last night," she said, "so we'll have to do that now." There was the attitude I longed to see in Cynthia. I washed Cynthia first of course, every bit of skin I could find, every fold explored. Only then did I wash myself. Breakfast was a bit more extensive than usual. Bacon and eggs and toast, orange juice and coffee. I happily ate it all, as did Cynthia. Well, when you use up calories you get hungry. Cynthia's parents were nowhere to be seen, so we took our time at the table, discussing what we were going to do with out summer. She had a little job in august to earn some cash, I had a different gig but at the same time. That was perfect, actually, giving us the whole month of july to enjoy each other's company. On top of that, my parents didn't have the first week off, and her parents would be away for two weeks after that. "So, monday at your place," Cynthia summed up, "I'll bring the necessary materials and I'll see if I can have you amuse me." "You don't need me to amuse you now?" I tried to play coy or shy or whatever you call that innocence thing. I tried, but failed, because it simply didn't fit the mood or the conversation. Nonetheless, she looked tempted for a second, but she said: "no, sorry Ensie sweetie. I need to go shopping for monday." A second later she added, "besides, come monday all your time is mine. So go read or something while you can." That was that. We took our time getting ready to head out, and we gave each other a long goodbye kiss. Monday couldn't come soon enough, but maybe it would be nice to have a few days, if only so my muscles could recover. In all our planning, we completely forgot about our dresses. They were still up in Cynthia's room where we had left them the night before. I couldn't remember where exactly that was though. Could you, after such a night? Which is more or less what I told my parents. Well, that it was still in Cynthia's room, not that I had forgotten because we had had such extensive sex that my legs still felt a bit wobbly and my mind couldn't think of anything else. "So, how was the dance?" Dad asked after a few moments of silence. "Oh." What was I supposed to answer to that. Well, now I would just have the confidence to blurt it all out, but back then I didn't. I went with the truth anyway, but a bit hesitantly. "It was a bit awkward at first, but Cyn is a good dancer." Ok, so that's not exactly what I would say now, nor was it really the truth. They were the easy truths, the little smooth rocks you can pick out of a bucket of sharp ones without hurting yourself. I couldn't say anything about how Cynthia had strength enough for me to lean on her. "That's... good. I'm glad you had fun," dad replied eventually. "Sorry we haven't been enthousiastic about this, princess, it's just a lot to wrap our heads around." "Well, you're only human," I replied with a smile that came entirely from trying to make sure that dad wouldn't feel guilty. Then I gave him a kiss on the cheek and headed off to my room. ---------- This one is a short chapter, sort of an interlude, the next one will kick off the summer shenanigans. I had a plan for 19 chapters, but I realize that this may not be enough to tell the story. I don't want to make it much longer, because I also need to get back to a couple other stories I'm writing, one of which is here.

Damn son, that's one hell of a good story. I hope Grace eventually learns her lesson.

That's rather insulting to diaper lovers. I know there are those for who it is one kind of sexual fetish/kink or another (humiliation, feminization, ...), but just because those people exist, doesn't mean those who don't ageplay are just in it because of their sexual urges. Maybe we just can't pretend to be little. Maybe we are just adults who are stuck with a love for diapers because something didn't go quite right in potty training. Maybe we just like the feeling of thick wet padding on our butts. Hell, maybe it's even fun that we get to put away our sexuality for a few hours.

↑ Yes, though I imagine it's not as different as you'd expect. Mostly your attention would still be drawn to the thick padding that stops you from closing your legs like always. Sitting would be no different since you still sit on your bottom, where you can feel the padding. The real advantage is that you wouldn't have any bits that you can accidentally crush, while the disadvantage is that the padding and wetness is a little more intimate/intrusive/all-encompassing since it's right up there against your sex, rather than having your little guy make a little tent. ↓ Have you ever gone too far with your diaper wearing (or other fetishes)?

Chapter 6: ---------- One eternity later I stood in Cynthia's bedroom, once again letting myself be undressed. We had arranged everything so I could sleep over at her place, the excuse being convenience. My clothes would be there after the dance and it was slightly closer to school. Or well, former school, we officially graduated that afternoon. I stepped into the panties Cyn held out for me. She made sure they were a snug perfect fit, teasing my sex. The panties, not Cynthia, she was still determined to keep off until I gave her the go. I wore an unobtrusive sports bra that hopefully wouldn't peek out from under the dress or could be seen through it. Maybe I shouldn't have bothered, I didn't have much that needed support anyway. My actual dress seemed more massive than it had on tuesday. I was probably just nervous though. Cynthia made sure that everything was perfectly in its place, at the same time admiring me in my dress. The necklace, which was really more of a collar, came last. When I was finally ready, she kissed me and jingled my bell. Then it was Cynthia's turn to get into her own dress. I helped her where I could and where I needed to, but some things she had to do herself. Like her boots. She took as much care they were a good fit as she had with me. My own shoes were a little more fairytale than hers. Little fine shoes that were excellent for dancing. But not for walking, as I discovered when we walked to school for the last time. The front side of the school was lifeless and dark, completely dead and abandoned at this time of the evening. However, as soon as we rounded the corner, a breeze of activity washed over us. Cars were driving up and dropping off students, flashlights waved others to parking spots, muffled sounds escaped the students' hall, where the dance was held. Aside from the arriving former students, there was little to be seen outside. A red carpet was rolled out and there were two torches set up at either side, but that was it. Kind of underwhelming for the last time we were going to be there. The inside was better, but that was because it was a pretty hall all by itself to begin with. And then, of course, the gasps started and went through the crowd like a wave. Outside we hadn't gotten much attention, just two girls arriving together. Nothing special. In the hall though, I was holding Cynthia's arm pretty tight, latching on to her for protection. I was so bloody scared I couldn't even remember how I had gotten in. "Hey. Ensie, sweetie," Cynthia quietly said to me, "don't worry, you're here with me. Anyone will have to go through me first, ok?" I nodded, trying to swallow my nerves, but my heart kept pounding in my throat. Whispers broke out amongst the crowd, louder than they had any right to be. Many people wanted to come over, but few dared. I seemed to have completely forgotten how intimidating Cynthia was to others. The first encounter was Cynthia's twosome of sycophants. "Amber, Samantha, good to see you. Have I ever introduced you to my girlfriend, Ensleigh?" Cold and to the point. Cynthia already knew exactly what they were going to say. The only reason Cynthia had ever tolerated them was pretty much for the same reason she liked me: they followed her. Now that she had me, however, she didn't seem to have any tolerance for these two any more. "Absolute genius, Cynthia, torturing the poor girl into coming to the dance with you. People will be talking about this for years." One of the two said that, but to this day I have no idea which was which. They were probably entirely interchangeable anyway. Cynthia merely smiled, "no, darlings, she is mine and I am hers." From the corner of my eye I spotted Rebecca. When I fully looked at her, she looked forlorn and defeated. I felt guilty. That was the moment I realized I should have told her earlier, that I shouldn't have let it be a surprise. I hadn't even considered it. Of course not, with telling our parents and dresses, I had been far too focused on how I was going to get through it, that I had forgotten that I had people in my life who would care about such things. "We should go talk to Rebecca," I said to Cynthia, completely disregarding her two former minions. "Sorry, my girlfriend commands and I obey," Cynthia said with a giggle as we started toward Rebecca. She made me uncling from her arm, instead resting my hand in hers. She also made sure I walked next to her, rather than behind. "Hey." That was really all I could muster to Rebecca. "How could you not tell me?" She asked, paling. "I'm sorry," she added, "I should be happy for you, but how could you not tell me?" "I should have," I said while squeezing Cynthia's hand. "It's just... It's all kinds of new to me too." A rather poor excuse, even though it was the truth. "I'm sorry. I fucked up and I owe you one." That seemed the right thing to say, though I wasn't sure if that could do anything to lessen the betrayal. "Just, go have fun, ok? We'll talk tomorrow or something." Well, what else could I do but do what she told me? She didn't have a commanding aura like Cynthia, but I had told her I owed her. Cyn once told me she had to drag me away anyway at that point, but that's not how I remember it. Pretty big chance I don't remember any of that right, of course. So yeah, after those two major encounters, the evening seemed to start off on a sour note, but Cynthia didn't let herself be deterred. She dragged me onto the dancefloor and gestured at the band to play something slow. Technically they were still setting up, but the guitarist nodded anyway, and suddenly tuning was no longer an issue. When the music started up, Cynthia gently took my hand, wrapped the other around my waist and then we were dancing. Former teachers stared in disapproval. Well, some of them anyway, but it was hard to care about that on the dancefloor. The beat picked up a little and so did Cynthia's pace. And then suddenly everyone was looking at us. The dance had barely started and here was the newly discovered lesbian couple already owning the dancefloor, being more romantic with this one simple thing than most of the guys had even considered being possible. I closed my eyes and simply enjoyed the rhythm and Cynthia's warm breath on my face. We moved through steps and joy and warmth and exhilaration, all the wonderful things that come just from dancing with someone truly special. After a while Cynthia said: "I love you like this," but then she quickly corrected, "no, I just love you." And then she kissed me, in the middle of the dance, in the middle of the hall, and while I suddenly stood still the room was still spinning around me. I blushed, but I didn't care. The evening passed wonderfully. The music became more modern and harder to dance to, and while that was unfortunate, I had already had the chance to dance like a princess with my now girlfriend. We did get another chance when the night was starting to draw to a close, but we were no longer alone on the dancefloor for that. The whole evening was exciting, even if some of the excitement was just standing on the balcony and hugging. But really, hugging Cynthia meant I could practically bury my face in her bosom, and she held me as if to protect me from all our fellow graduates. I was hers and hers alone, and I loved that feeling. I loved her. I kissed her neck a few times that evening and nibbled her earlobe. Of course she knew what that meant, so when the dance drew to a close around midnight -teachers apparently need sleep, who knew?- she said to me: "so princess Ensie, sweetie, are you sure you're ready for what's next?" That might've sounded entirely innocent to someone who passed us by, merely a reference to what we were going to do after high school. But no, like I mentioned before, she wanted to do this thing right, so she made sure I was actually up for hot steamy sex with her. And of course I was. The way home was a lot harder than the way to the dance. We had to stop every two minutes for me to kiss Cynthia, or for her to shove her tongue down my throat. When we finally made it to her house, it was hard to be quiet enough not to wake her mom. I think if I had not been wearing a dress, Cynthia would have literally dragged me upstairs. We undressed each other at the same time as best we could while also fighting to place some lovebites on each others' necks. I was pretty much on autopilot by then, yet it turns out that was a terrible idea. Taking our dresses off without ripping them apart required more delicacy than an autopilot allowed. So we both kind of had to snap out of it before we really managed to get that done. It made the situation just awkward enough that for a few moments neither of us knew how to proceed. For a change I made the first move, putting Cynthia's hand on my bottom with just enough enthousiasm that it made a slight slapping noise. It's a wonderful feeling having another person's hands touching your butt and it easily breaks any built up tension. With all the tension gone, I brushed some stray bang from her face and placed it behind her left ear and then put my arms around her neck. "My lady Cyn, would you like a taste of me?" She smiled, kissed me, and suddenly she had her lips on my nipple and her hands all over my body. She was soft and careful, and rather than pulling me toward her bed, she guided me to it. I sat down on the bed while Cynthia sat down on her knees in front of it, still giving my breasts some careful consideration. I nudged forward a little while I opened my legs further and put my hands on Cynthia's shoulders to guide her in. It was... indescribable. While it took some time, Cynthia worked and licked and learned and brought me to orgasm in such a fantastic manner that a very loud satisfied sigh escaped my lips against my will. My legs had no desire to support me, though I knew I just had to share my pleasure and return the favor. Instead I pulled Cynthia on top of me and gave her a sloppy kiss. It never even occurred to me that my sweat and vaginal fluids were all over her face and mouth. I tried to roll her under me, but she had to give me some help with that. She giggled and told me I could catch my breath first, but I just shook my head no and got started as well as I could. She was already wet, but it seemed like it took some time before she really managed to get into it, pushing my face deeper into her mound as I ate her. I never really managed to catch my breath, but my efforts became more enthousiastic and rhythmic over time anyway. I really wanted to make her feel what I had felt. I seemed to be down there forever before she finally practically convulsed as she came. "That was... that was... fantastic," she said after a while, taking deep breaths. After a short rest, we became a tangle of arms, legs, pleasure, and awkward transitions. We tried getting at each others sensitive parts in any way that we could. If anyone had seen us, they might have thought we were wrestling. And to be honest, sometimes I prefer it that way. Lying next to each other to get each other off is so boring, and missionary is not always an improvement on that. We brought each other to orgasm again, pretty close together actually, this time, though it took a lot to keep working on Cynthia while my mind and body were trying their damndest to make me forget everything. "Again?" She asked, finally as out of breath as I was. "Sure," I said, though I'm not sure I really meant it at that point. I mean, sure, I wanted more pleasure, but I didn't believe for a second I still had the energy to make that happen. "Good," she replied, "because I have one more surprise." The surprise was a pair of strap-ons, both black and both pretty big. Well, I thought they were big at the time, but even I have used bigger ones in all the years and I've seen ones that were more massive than those. I imagine I looked reluctant or even exasperated at that point, I had never even considered a strap-on though I had seen them before. "So no-one can ever claim that this night doesn't count and we're still virgins," Cynthia explained. She wanted it all and I couldn't deny her. I was going to go first however, because if I'd had to endure one more orgasm first I'd collapse. She put the strap-on on me. It was not as hard as I'd imagined it to be. I took my time. As little energy as it had and as much as I wanted to get it over with, I put in the effort to get her and myself wet again so we could actually enjoy this. And realizing that, I knew we both needed a drink first, so I sent Cynthia down to the kitchen to fetch some water. In the nude, of course. She smiled an evil grin that said she'd get me back for that, but she did as she was told nonetheless. Her body was gorgeous, glistening with all that sweat. She returned quickly enough, a large bottle of water cradled in her right arm. She drank first, then me, then a kiss. And then again. By the time we were done with that the second time, I was already caressing her body, playing with her breasts and kissing her neck. I probed her vulva to see if she was ready for the next round. She was getting there, but needed a little push, so I got on one knee and gave it a good lick. And just to be sure, she did the same when I got back up. She knew what I was doing. Of course, she knew, she was in this too, right? Two bodies becoming one, even if that's a bit hard to remember when you're scrounging up all the energy you have left to have another go. She gave that strap-on one hell of a blowjob, but while that may have been hot to look at, it did very little for me. When I thought it was good enough, I touched her cheek and she rose. I wasn't entirely sure how to do this, after all, I didn't normally have a penis, so it wasn't exactly something I'd considered. Suddenly, I could only think of one thing: the time she had put me face down on the floor with my ass in the air. So that's what I made her do. Her face buried in her pillow on her bed, her ass up for access. Well, access to her vulva, not her ass. I pushed in as gently as I could, but still she whimpered. I did the same when my turn came. I don't exactly know how to describe what came next. Normal sex is kind of dull unless you're there, really, so let's just stick to: I did my very best to build up a satisfying rhythm. It took a little time and took more than just pumping. I don't know how often I slapped her ass, but I do remember that I could not deliver the last one because that was when she orgasmed. She didn't move for minutes, her head still on her pillow, ass still up in the air. She was smiling and laughing and gasping for air. My turn was quite different. She put me on her bed on my back, gently caressing me, kissing me, looking me in the eyes as she guided her strap-on in. Like I said before, it hurt just as much for me as it did for her. It took some gritting of teeth to get through the discomfort. It didn't help that strap-ons aren't really designed to be used in that position. Or at least ours weren't. Once she figured that out, I found my knees next to my head and everything became a whole lot more intense. My own orgasm was accompanied by complete exhaustion. I just gave Cynthia a kiss and then turned toward the wall and closed my eyes. It was all I could do. Cynthia took off her strap-on, but had the foresight to kick it under the bed, then she kissed me in the neck and we drifted off to sleep. It came harder than I expected, but just when I thought I wasn't going to be able to sleep I opened my eyes and it was morning.

Chapter 5: ---------- Our final exams flew past as if they were made of time. After we were stuck with a short week of school without any classes. None of the teachers were crazy enough to try to teach anymore, so this time was used to prepare the graduation dance and say our goodbyes to our soon-to-be-former classmates, while the teachers corrected our exams. Cynthia still did not allow me to show my affection toward her at school, though she also said she was looking forward to the impact it would have at the dance. In hindsight, I should at least have told Rebecca before the dance. She was my best friend, she should have known. That tuesday Cyn told me to come over after school. She blocked my eyes with her hands as she led me to her room, pausing here and there for a kiss in my neck. When she finally released me from my hand-induced blindness, I was staring at her bed, where two dresses were laid out for my eyes to feast upon. The first was a floor length dress with sleeves. It was mainly a soft blue with a slightly fuller shade as a deeper layer. To break the monotony, the dress had highlights in a soft pink. Most notably the ribbons along the front and sleeves, lining along the breasts and here and there the seams. Above the dress, there was a pink lace necklace with a little bell attached. The other dress was a somewhat shorter and less poofy affair and came with a sizable pair of black leather boots. The dress itself had a black skirt horizontally slashed with red folds. Above that lay a sturdy looking corset, again in black but with vertical red lines. There was a top for beneath the corset, but it didn't look big enough to hide the cleavage Cynthia would have. Yeah, it was pretty obvious that was going to be her dress. "They're beautiful," I told Cynthia, turning around. She was holding a pair of panties, as adorably pink as the ribbons on my dress, with a blue white kitty face on the front and an equally blue tail on the back. "And these are going to be your underwear for that night," she said with a twinkle in her eye. "And if you'll let me, I'd also like to take them back off you." That last part was with a lot less confidence and with a lot more care. I already knew she didn't want to go over sex too quickly or too lightly, but it was still heartwarming to hear her so hesitant when she spoke about it. Her normal dominant posture making way for one of worry and care. If anything, that made me love her even more. Nevertheless, I had to make her wait. A promise right that instant seemed wrong, too eager. If she was taking this so carefully, then it would have been wrong for me to just dive into it because I wanted to do anything for her. No, it needed to be right, and I wouldn't be able to see if it was until the time came. So I told her I couldn't promise anything, that the dance would tell. "Sounds fair," she replied, her full confidence back into her voice. "So, try it on!" I nodded and started to undress, but Cynthia stopped me. "No-no, let me." She took her time undressing me, enjoying the opportunity. She enjoyed brushing my skin whenever she pulled something off. She gave me a kiss halfway through. She helped me get dressed too, though there was not nearly as much work there and it was a bit clumsier too. She did take satisfaction from putting that little bell around my neck. The first of many. It felt nice, but also in a weird way intimate. Not that I could tell why. My dress wasn't the only one that needed checking out. Cynthia began undressing herself, but I immediately jumped in. I didn't have any right to undress her, yet that didn't mean I shouldn't lend a hand anyway. She bit her lip and let me. In hindsight, she was really getting antsy, and had she not had as much self control as she did, we would've had sex right then and there. Instead, I simply helped her get her dress on. Her skirt fell slightly below the knees, the top covered her to just above her nipples. She was still wearing bra, so she unclipped that and took it off so I could get started on the corset. I yanked the threads at the back as hard as I could, as I had seen in movies a few times. I was a bit disappointed she didn't gasp before she told me to tie it up. I had to redo it anyway, it was not equally tight all the way up, so it needed some good tugging at the bottom. "Better," she said when I was done. When she turned around, her breasts were on display. I was a bit jealous that others were going to get to see them like this, but I didn't voice any of that to Cynthia. Whatever pleased her and all that. After we enjoyed looking at each other and ourselves for a while, Cynthia turned to me and went: "I asked you here for two reasons. The second being..." She hesitated for a second. "With our dresses, we have an excuse to get our parents together and tell them." "Tell them what?" I almost went, but I realized in time to keep my mouth shut, so instead I said: "oh." "You should call your parents now." That was not so much a command as it was a call to action, a challenge for me to be brave. Ten minutes was all it took for my parents to get there. That was entirely faster than I had expected them to get there. I mean, they had picked me up at Cynthia's before, but even if they knew the route by heart it they had stepped on it. Dropping everything they were doing and rushing over. They would have had to. When the doorbell rang, Cynthia distracted me with a kiss. "To calm your nerves," she said, though it may well have been to calm her own. This was as new to her as it was to me. Nevertheless, at the time, she still looked like a rock to me. Completely and utterly solid. We waited for Cynthia's mom to call us down before we left Cynthia's room. The top of the stairs proved to be a barrier, but one that was conquered by her hand grabbing mine. She led the way, but approaching the living room door she let go. Not to keep up appearances, as you might think, but because you cannot approach a topic in your own way if you throw it in someone's face first. I was so nervous I didn't even hear my parents compliment my dress. Nevertheless, I showed it off automatically, twirling around and actually enjoying the caress of the fabric against my legs. Cynthia told me after that while she got compliments too, our parents were clearly not as thrilled about how much cleavage she was showing. Of course, that was forgotten the second the topic changed to the actual matter at hand. "Oh, and for practicality's sake," Cynthia said, "we're going to the dance together." My attention was never so sharp as that moment. My dad nodding 'ok' seemed to be in slow motion. "Because, you know, we ARE together." Our parents didn't seem to register it right away, but when they saw Cynthia holding my hand it sank in. Cynthia's mom pretty quickly went: "oh! Should've seen that coming when you started showing up toward he end of a school year, Ensleigh dear." My own parents were not as enthused. "Are you sure this is what you want?" My mom asked, while my dad just looked on, apparently lost in his own mental maze. Probably trying to block out all the lesbian porn he had ever watched. Cynthia nudged me. "Yeah mom," I replied, "she... I... I've been looking for someone like her." It betrayed so much and yet said so little. My mom didn't really understand of course. Most people assume more innocence than you actually have. Especially if you're into weird things and they are not. That's most people, by the way. Some people will say that everybody is into something weird, but that's simply not true. Most people only think they are into something weird, but really, they simply have no idea what is out there and consider even a different sexual position to be 'weird'. They'd faint if they ever went to a fetish party. We all sat and stood around awkwardly for a while. Until Cyn's dad came home and he got the same surprise as the rest. He just smiled and said: "So long as you're happy sweetheart, it's all fine by me." A second later he added, "if there's ever a problem, even if it's embarrassing, come to me. I might be able to help. And that goes for either of you." Suddenly her mother's attention was entirely focused on her father, some kind of weird mixture of curiosity and pride. As if she didn't really know her husband afterall, but was glad to have chosen him. I tell you that happily at this point as if I had figured it out right then, but to be honest it took me until after the end of our relationship before I realized. "Come, let's go pull off our dresses and prepare them for friday," Cynthia suggested. Her usually commanding tone was hidden behind layers of... relief and love, I think. I never really asked her. When we were up the stairs, I whispered in her ear "I need to use the bathroom." She let me. I was a bit disappointed. We hadn't done anything special in a while and thus I really longed to do something intimate with her. Because that's what all that kinky stuff turns out to be. Especially if you do it with someone you actually care about. Cynthia, of course, was preparing herself for the dance and wanted me pure and true and like a true girlfriend. To that end, we didn't do anything all week. For me, that meant the dance took an eternity to arrive.

Chapter 4: ---------- That monday I went by Cynthia's for actual homework. She needed help with maths and I needed some notes on geography, because the teacher of that class had us take personal notes, and as distracted as I had been, I hadn't done a very good job of that. "You've been hanging out with my daughter a lot lately," Cynthia's mom told me as she opened the door. "Yes, well, finals coming up and such," I replied in my defense. Would you tell your boyfriend's or girlfriend's parents what kind of kinky things you do with their child? It's not exactly a conversation either party wants to have. Nevertheless, her mom gave me a look that seemed to say that was a valid excuse. "You know where she is." I knocked on Cynthia's door before stepping into her room, not seeing her at her desk. "Cyn?" She closed the door behind me as soon as I was far enough into the room. "Hands on my bed, ass out." Almost without thinking I did as I was told. It didn't even occur to me that this was a punishment position, and even if I had realized, I am pretty sure I would still have done the same. I'd accepted that I was hers, so I did as she told me to do and if she was unhappy I would try to do better. When I was in position, she flipped my skirt up but left my underwear in place. A good thwack followed quickly. I wasn't ready for it, so my knees shook even as I tried to make them not do so. "You've been a naughty girl," Cynthia clarified, waiting for me to regain my composure. I was confused, naturally, because I hadn't been under the impression I had done anything wrong. Nevertheless I apologized, quietly, embarrassed. Another good thwack from her paddle shook my bottom. "Good, because I don't have enough time to properly punish you today." "What did I do wrong?" I had to ask. Many would not want to risk more punishment, but that was not my concern. I did not want to disappoint Cynthia again, and being punished for the same mistake again later would be far more embarrassing. "What did I tell you on friday?" Cynthia asked, in that way a mother would when she knew her daughter should know better. "I..." I hesitated, "I should be in diapers?" "Close," Cynthia offered, though there was still a hint of disappointment in her voice. I tried to go over the words in my memory, as far as I could conjure them up. "I need permission to use them?" I threw up in the air. "But I didn't use any diapers?" "Good girl," Cynthia said in conjunction with another thwack on my bottom. "However, my precise words were: 'your bladder is mine' and 'you need permission to go to the bathroom even if you're not in diapers'. And yet I've heard no pleas to go to the bathroom for the past three days." That hadn't really sunk in and quite frankly it seemed crazy. "But, I can't just wet my pants anywhere..." I pleaded. "Well, then you had best convince me to let you go to the bathroom in those situations," Cynthia whispered in my ear. Then another smack of the paddle. "But I'll give you this: if I don't give you a reply within ten minutes, you're allowed to go. To avoid unfortunate accidents." Another thwack and then I heard her put down the paddle. To be honest, I became quite turned on though that. Someone taking such tight control of me was a form of intimacy that many people simply don't experience. I had already surrendered, so I didn't need to again. I simply accepted that from then on, I needed to ask permission to go to the bathroom. "One more thing," Cynthia said, sitting down on her bed next to where I was still bent over it. Looking in my eyes, she continued: "Will you go to the graduation dance with me?" Now, you have to understand, I hadn't even considered that I was in a lesbian relationship until that moment. I liked Cynthia for her dominating personality and for her ability to take charge of me, and the fact that she was a girl was just a happy coincidence. However, actually going out with her, actually being seen with her would change a lot of things. Of course, a lot of things would be changing anyway, come graduation. There was too much chaos in my mind to give her an answer, so instead I asked: "will I need to wear diapers?" It took a good three seconds for Cynthia to register what I had said. "Tempting," she giggled, "but probably not. I do want to be able to dance with you." I gave her an immediate yes, after that. She sounded so genuine that I couldn't help but feel like she loved me. And like I said, I just couldn't disappoint her. Whether that was through kinkiness or through dancing didn't really matter. Any hesitation I had regarding what to tell my parents or my friends could not compete with how much I wanted to please her. She kissed me. Not lustfully, not passionately, not forcefully. Instead she was soft, tender, and graceful. For a second, I thought I even saw her eyes water, but that was gone in the blink of an eye. It was a long kiss but eventually she opted out. "You should stop showing off your pretty bottom so we can actually get some homework done." "It's not fair you got to see mine but I didn't get to see yours," I retorted playfully. "Tell you what, after we finish our homework, I'll let you bury your face in mine." I'm pretty sure my face turned a suitable hue of firered, while my sex was aching to show its pink inner bits. None of that helped us getting our tasks done but we managed anyway. And after? Well, I kissed Cynthia's ass a few times and then we made out. That night was wonderful, but the coming days and weeks turned more and more into a single busy haze. Study sessions to prepare for finals, make out sessions to unwind, followed by sleep and school and more sessions of both kinds. One night Cynthia asked: "when do you want to tell our parents, before or after graduation?" I honestly didn't know. I had no way to know what the better choice would be. If we told them first and they freaked, it might ruin the whole dance, but if we were nervous about telling our parents later we wouldn't really enjoy the dance either. "You know what, we need to tell them before," Cynthia decided, "I'll take care of our dresses and when we show them to our parents, we'll just tell them. Ok?" I nodded. There didn't seem to be another choice. I wasn't sure about the whole thing, but I didn't really have any ideas and Cynthia was, and still is, someone I was willing to depend on. Telling your parents you're a lesbian is weird and awkward, and only becomes more awkward when in hindsight it turns out not to be true. During finals I saw very little of Cynthia, let alone spend quality time with her.

Chapter 3: ---------- That next friday, I was so excited I didn't know what to say all the way back to her house. I had arranged everything with my parents and I'd already dropped off the necessary supplies at her house that morning. I was just fidgeting with my own fingers while we walked, until Cynthia had finally had enough and thrust her can of coke into my hands. "Just, drink that and keep still. You're making me nervous." I was rather glad for the distraction because my stomach was filled with butterflies. I was not turned on, not yet, but anticipation ran through my entire body nevertheless. I sipped my drink to keep from fidgeting. And then I did it again because I didn't know what to say or how to look at Cynthia. And then again to distract myself from the awkward silence. By the time we reached Cynthia's house, the can was empty and so I threw it in her garbage bin and then we went in to greet her mother, who was making dinner in the kitchen. We didn't stick around long. I had been speechless ever since school was out, but still that urgency felt awkward and a bit naughty, like we were doing something we weren't supposed to be doing. Well, according to most people, a teenage girl certainly should not literally be kissing another girl's ass, but like the start of any other evening between the two of us, that was exactly what we were doing. She didn't hesitate a second to kiss me on the mouth that had just seconds before kissed her ass. She was naked from the waist down, but still she was in charge, pushing me on her bed and crawling on top of me to continue the make-out session. I could explain all the ways she tried to kiss me, but you can imagine it far better than I can explain it. In the end, it turned out we had made out for a good forty minutes, and then Cynthia said: "Well, Ensie dear, time to see to our homework, because I'm not sure we're going to have any more time for that this weekend." I was bit confused by that, because I thought we were just having a sleepover, as in one night, I had not planned on a whole weekend, nor had I told my parents. But I didn't want to go against her either. I was so childishly in love that I wanted to give her everything she wanted. I figured I could see what the next day would bring and not ruin that night. Or at least that's the excuse I told myself. And you would not expect it, but for two girls into kissing each other, we did not much get distracted during homework time. The times we did get distracted, Cynthia spanked my bottom thrice and told me to get back to work. Well, she spanked it as well as she could while we were sitting down. Sadly that method does not keep working forever, once it really becomes kinky it's as much a distraction as what distracted you in the first place. We finished our work before dinner, which gave Cyn the time to get dressed again, because she had been sitting bare bottomed on her chair. I was slightly jealous of that fact, and yet not at the same time, because I was slowly developing a serious urge to pee from that coke I had earlier. Before I could ask after the bathroom, Cyn's mom knocked on the door and told us to come eat. So that's what we did. I don't remember what we ate, but I do remember I was again very quiet throughout. Once we were done and heading back up the stairs, I asked Cynthia: "Uhm, where's your bathroom? I need to go." I emphasized the 'need'. Cynthia got a very mischievous smile on her face then. "Where's the bathroom? Ensie darling, shouldn't you ask me first if you're allowed to go to the bathroom?" That didn't register with me at all and so the only thing I could do was look at her dumbfounded. "Or maybe you can beg me." Cynthia added after a time. We were already back in her room, where her control of me seemed slightly stronger than elsewhere and thus where I more easily did what she desired of me, completely comprehending the situation or not. I got on my knees and in a timid voice asked her "may I go to your bathroom, please?" It response she brought her lips to my ear and said a quiet "no". "I want you to get up and wet your pants." Words seemed incapable of escaping my mouth right then, so I just shook my head no. "Sweetie, who is the one in charge here?" Cynthia asked in the calmest, sweetest, most understanding tone that I've ever heard her produce. "You are," I said, my cheeks heating up noticeably. I had already given myself to her, and I wanted to do anything for her, but toilet training goes deeply into a person's sense of self-respect. It's not something you just ignore or turn off. It's one of the first things you learn that make you your own independent person, and for someone to take that away is really asking a lot of you. I'm pretty sure Cynthia was aware of that, and that was exactly why she was so understanding about it. "Then I'm sorry, Ensie sweetie, but that means that you belong to me. All of you. Your body, your control, your shame, your dignity." It took me a long time to actually start wetting myself. At first, only a patch at the front of my jeans turned wet and I had to try to start all over again, but the second time I completely soaked my pants as I concentrated on keeping open my bladder. I didn't even notice how warm, wet, and sticky my pants had become until I was done. "You naughty, naughty girl," Cynthia said with faked outrage, sitting down on her bed at the same time. "Across my lap!" As obedient as I was, I was not prepared for a hard smack on my bottom the second I lay down. I don't know what sound I made, but she shushed me and kept going. I smothered my face in her blankets to keep from crying out. The smacks got more painful until she suddenly stopped and I realised that I could take more. I didn't say that then, though. She sent me to the corner of the room to "think about what I had done" while she took out her laptop and went online. My wet jeans cooled quickly and became uncomfortable to stand in, but I tried to ignore that. Without warning, she came up behind me and started feeling the crotch of my pants. Satisfied about the state of them she asked: "Now that you've been punished, how do you propose we keep this from happening again?" Knowing it was the wrong answer, I said: "by letting me go to the bathroom?" It had the desired effect though, because it brought a smile to Cynthia's face. "No, sweetie, I'm afraid that won't do," she answered as she walked back to her bed and pulled out a box from under it. "I have a more secure solution." I had to turn around to see the diaper she was holding in her hand, though I didn't recognize it at first. When I did, I felt myself swallowing. I couldn't decide in my mind whether a diaper was worse than wetting myself or not. She saw the doubt plain on my face, but it didn't faze her. "You've already given yourself to me, so don't worry about your bladder, I'll put it to good use." Her words spoke truth, I was hers, so I could only let myself be led to her bed. She peeled off my wet jeans, but she simply ignored my wet panties and diapered me right over them. The diapers were a small size brand of adult disposables. I later asked her why she didn't put me in pampers, but she thought they wouldn't fit me despite my diminutive size. Turns out that was a good idea, because larger diapers can hold more and thus don't need to be changed as often. "I'm not going to get new pants, am I?" I asked while she fastened the tapes on the front of the diaper. "No, and there are some rules." I saw that coming, even then. "These are your diapers, but I am in charge of them. That means you don't get to change your own diapers, nor do you get to ask for a change. You also have to ask me permission to go to the bathroom, at all times, whether you're wearing diapers or not. Ok?" What was I going to do? I had already given myself to her, so I could only blush and say "yes". "Good girl." She pulled me to my feet and patted me on my diapered bottom. I blushed some more. The tight padding hugged my behind like a lover caressing my bottom. Not that I really could've made that comparison at the time. Nevertheless, the feeling was such a lovely combination of soft intimacy and shame that it made my sex warm. I didn't miss the chance to kiss her yet again. While we kissed the rest of the cola and the glass of water I drank after dinner made their way through to my bladder, slowly demanding my attention. Once it began knocking on my front door, I had no choice but to stop and tell Cynthia I had to pee. I had no idea if was just supposed to tell her or if I was supposed to beg to be allowed to wet myself. So I just went with option number one. "Cynthia, I have to pee again." She gave me another kiss and then led me to the middle of her bedroom, positioning me toward the bed so she could sit down and watch. "Go," she said, but I couldn't oblige, not right away. Peeing that diaper was even harder than peeing my pants before, and wearing cold, clammy panties underneath did not help. Cynthia began a deep hum that I didn't really notice at the time and that was meant to calm me down. Whether or not it helped, I began peeing after a good ten minutes of trying. The front began turning yellow pretty quickly and Cyn was as intrigued as I was. The panties didn't really get warmer right away, but the mushy, pleasantly warm padding of the diaper pushed on the insides of my thighs and as such added to my feeling of arousal. To this day I still can't help but get turned on from a padded feeling between my legs, whatever the source. Before I was even done, Cynthia was back upon me, cupping my crotch and furiously kissing my neck like her life depended on it. With a heap of reluctance she eventually tore herself away, breathing heavily, whispering: "no, not yet. Take our time for that." I never appreciated how hard that was for her during our relationship, and how much she really wanted to do right by me and by us by doing everything in good time. That evening, we made out like only a teenage couple can, which made sense, because that was exactly what we were. I used my diaper once more while we were doing so, but it neatly held it all. The diaper did grow uncomfortable after a while, and I almost asked for a change, but at the last second, freed from exploring Cynthia's tongue, my mind remembered that I was not supposed to do that. But the pause in our make-out session was enough of a hint for her to check up on my diaper. Well, maybe she didn't do it so much because we had paused, but because she could finally do a diaper check. "Well," she said, "you're not soaked yet, but I do think a new diaper would be in order." She lay me down on the bed gently, opened the diaper and peeled down my soaked panties. Grabbing some wipes from beneath the bed, she began cleaning me front to bottom. She was thorough in her cleaning, but still did her very best not to turn me on further, and she looked downright disappointed for a second as she covered up my intimate area. That was already forgotten by the time she finished taping it up and gave my crotch a squeeze to make sure the diaper was tight. "There, all cleaned up." The used diaper she simply rolled up and threw in her trashcan. I was pretty sure my panties were in there as well, but I did not care. Cynthia brought out her laptop and opened it up, pulling out a DVD of Stardust and putting it on. We fell asleep watching the movie, or at least I did, but when I woke up the next morning, I was still in Cynthia's arms, drooling over her breasts. My diapered bottom was sticking out from under the covers, but from what I could tell, I was still dry. I contemplated getting up, but like any teenager my age I didn't want to give up my position on my girlfriend's chest, so I closed my eyes and enjoyed the cushioned cadence of her lungs. I must've fallen back asleep, because the next I knew, Cynthia was kissing me on the forehead, whispering: "Wake up, sweetie." I rubbed the sleep from my eyes as she slipped out of the bed. It took me a while to actually get up and out of the bed. When I finally did, Cynthia was already back, her clothes that she'd fallen asleep in cast aside and wearing a bathrobe. "On your knees at the foot of the bed. I'll take care of you as soon as I'm all washed up." She didn't take very long. I heard the shower running practically immediately, and she came walking back into her room still drying herself off. She offered me her clean ass and I gladly kissed it, it smelled of peach shampoo. While she was getting dressed, I took the opportunity to ask: "Cynthia? I need to go to the bathroom." "Your diaper still looks dry, I'd like to see it wet," she replied instantly. Clearly she had been waiting for that eventuality. "No, I mean, I have to go to the bathroom." Cynthia caught my meaning immediately, a head half poking out from a top staring back at me. "Oh," she said, hesitant. "Well, technically, that's what a diaper is for as well. But... I can't make you do that." I didn't even hear the last part. I got it into my stupid head that I still had to impress her. That giving her my everything was not enough, that I had to give her my everything willingly and then some. So I started pushing. She didn't say a word, but her eyes didn't leave mine for a second. It took a while. I had to relax and push again, and relax again and then I sort of just let it happen with a little help. "You are an angel sent down just for me," Cynthia said walking over, somehow having managed to put on her top. She kissed me deeply, and then pushed me onto my bottom. If the mess had been mushy stickiness before, it was now mush stickiness all over my bottom. "A stinky angel," she smiled, "but I wouldn't have it any other way." She led me to the corner of her room again. "I'm going to enjoy this view for a while," she smiled, pushing my face to the floor and telling me to put my ass up. That just spread the mess further. Cynthia looked at the alarm clock on her nightstand. "What time do you have to be home, Ensie angel?" She positively beamed at this point, and by extension I was just as content for having made that happen. "Noon," I replied. "Oh good, that gives us plenty of time." I couldn't tell how true that was, because I had not yet seen the time that morning, so I had no idea how long I was going to be in my little predicament. Turns out it was a long time. Not that she pushed it to the extreme, but she definitely took her time to enjoy the pickle I was in. She cleaned me up personally though. She cleaned every inch, showered me, and dried me off, and when I whispered the fold between my legs and bottom still felt moist she apologized and went right back to work on them. Let's just say that morning ended as much with kissing as the nights throughout the previous week did. I couldn't concentrate on schoolwork the rest of that weekend, which was a problem, because finals were looming on the horizon.

I added some tags. If you think certain tags need to be added (now or after new chapters are posted), feel free to let me know.