freswith

Welcome back Crystal, I hope you enjoy the site. Your remarks tend to reinforce my views about avoiding personal contact in this field. It is difficult enough to find a partner who is compatible to live with in a straight sexual relationship, without having to share this highly-tuned speciality. There is a great advantage in doing it on the net; you can switch it off! Enjoy! Fres

Hi Michelle, It's good to meet you. I hope you enjoy belonging to this site; it has a better atmosphere than most. It is also very nice to have some outlet for that side of your personality. I note that you like being a mommy. Do you have children of your own? I hope you enjoy the site. Fres

I would go back to 1908 and visit my great grandfather. He was an inventor in the electrical field. I would tell him all about transistors, valves, lasers, and the cavity magnetron. Oh, and all about patents, and will trusts. Besides that, I would just love to meet him! He was a lovely, eccentric character about whom many anecdotes still circulate in the family.

My picture on DD is full face and entirely representational. On other sites and blogs I use a different alias, and use a caricature which I managed to get done at an exhibition once: it is me, but wouldn't stand up in court. I loath the pictures of fat beer bellies in diapers, so I won't inflict you with my modest* example *Well, at least I can be modest about something!

I have used PVC pipe-weld successfully. It smells though! On the one occasion when Euroflex pants have torn, I used gaffer tape. It was very effective!

I think the scene covers too wide a range of individual desires to generalise; the only common factor is the diaper/nappy. We range from the simple DL who seeks comfort and security through to the long-term incontinent who enjoys an unfamiliar level of acceptence of their condition. I have tried the AB scene, and found it unattractive; drinking from a bottle is horrible, and not ever having had a pacifier as a baby, I find that rubbery thing in my mouth to be repulsive - I have a gag reflex with the taste of rubber. The thought of being strapped into a high chair and fed baby food really turns me right off. I have tried baby clothes, and although I make my own rompers, they are not baby-themed - they are just very good at supporting a wet nappy. Ditto frillies: no buzz when on me, but a huge one if they are on a girl. You might as well say that all DLs are sissy, bondage, BDSM, bedwetter, incontinent, and regressive personalities in denial. You might as well say that we are all Democrats/Labour or Republicans/Conservatives in denial merely because some of us also have those tendencies. (Let's face it - they do more harm to the world than we ever will!) It is quite simply wrong, and the staff of Vanderbilt Hospital are merely trying to rationalise that which they do not really understand. Try other things - they might work, but be yourself and enjoy it and don't have guilty thoughts about it. You will only harm yourself if you feel guilty. Enjoy this site, because here you will be understood, and there is a good atmosphere.

Oh B*gg*r! I just wrote a long piece and lost it by pressing the wrong button! I'll have to do it again. I am not a Victorian baby, but Georgian. (Nice scrollwork and ball-and-claw legs...) I still have in my possession my mother's notebook from the months before I was born. In it there is a layette list, which refers to Turkish cotton nappies. I assume this was the best quality available; we were quite well-to-do. There is no mention of plastic pants. I remember my grandmother and the aged nanny referring the them as "napkins". There was also a 1940's baby-care book which made no mention of plastic pants. The suggestion was that an over-nappy be fastened around the hips like a kilt. Also in the book there was reference to "Pilchers" being a knitted nappy-cover. I believe this is still the word used in Australia for waterproof pants. When, a couple of years later, I was watching a neighbour putting her children to bed, she didn't use plastic pants, relying instead on several (seemingly endless) layers of nappies. The toddler boy had a rectangular fold, while the baby girl had a triangular one, with a muslin or cotton inner nappy. I believe that mother used some kind of triangle-fold on me, as it was the only one I was aware of. The kitefold did not appear for many years afterwards. I recall being put out on the porch in my pram to get the fresh air, and being asked if I wanted the hood up or down. I asked for it to be left down (I must have been 18 months - 2 years I suppose). I was certainly harnessed in, as I recall being able to throw my weight against the harness to jerk the pram along the porch to the front door, where I would knock it. (This action disproves a fundamental law of Physics). Putting babies out on the porch was standard practice in those days. My mother disapproved of plastic pants, on grounds of nappy-rash, but I remember staggering down the bed towards her one morning, and when I reached out to her, she took hold of my nappy(ies) and pulled them down. The cold wet rings sliding down my legs were the first indication that I was wet, and so I must have been wearing waterproof pants at night. I have no desire to wear rubber pants, so presumably they were plastic.

Sorry! You missed U,V,W & X There was nothing wrong with my school; it was Approved, you know!

Granted. Pity about the fire... I wish Juliabam would come back on and say something funny

Poor Baby Bethany actually works for MI5 in the AB/DL detection unit. So far this year he has caught 23 of them, and sent them to the Rehabilitation Institute at Cockfosters. None of them have been seen since. Freswith - Commandant of ABRICOCK

Granted. You specified one singular "all beautiful woman". She's lovely - as homicidal maniacs go. I wish I had a Spitfire to fly.

Try this one and see if it works

Sorry, Question: what goes bump in the Knight?

Full English Breakfast. The Food of Empire-Builders. Lay a foundation for the day, then go forth, meet new challenges, perform great feats, right terrible injustices, travel to foreign lands, meet strange interesting people, and kill them. Then skip lunch. Local Headline: "Diaper Lover goes beserk and tries to mate with a double-decker bus."

It is. There are no humans in it. I wish I could be 19 again, instead of just being, as I am, 19 with forty years of experience and decrepitude

Spends his day wishing he really was 18.....

Back in the days when I was young and foolish (as opposed to now, when I am old and foolish), I was roaring around the London North Circular in the small hours of the morning at quite demented speeds in a Lotus. I noticed a set of lights in my mirror at about 400 yards behind me, and they were gaining on me. Suspicious by nature, I slowed right up. The police car pulled in front of me, and was rapidly followed by four more. "Eighty Miles an hour" the officer cried, "EIGHTY MILES AND HOUR IN A FORTY LIMIT!" I denied the offence, and said I was sure I was not breaking the speed limit, since I was watching the speedometer carefully, and it did not show more than forty. I maintained that defence in the face of a wall of angry policemen. The Officer did an Oscar-worthy performance of restrained anger, and repeated the allegation, and with an Oscar-worthy performance of injured innocence I denied it a second time. He saw I had a passenger, a Brazillian lad of excellently bad character. He went over and shouted at him "EIGHTY MILES AND HOUR! DID YOU SEE THAT?" Phil looked back at him and said, "No, Officer, I was asleep." Which got him the best laugh of the night. The policeman had been alone in his car, and by my slowing he had not been able to take station behind me for the necessary distance. The other officers had not been on the scene, and so it was my word against his. He gave me a bollocking, a pretty poor one by military standards, and let me go with a warning. The next time I was stopped, it was for doing 125mph on the M1 - a TR6 had had delusions of equality. Same story; I saw the police motorcycle way, way back. Keep a very good lookout! If they stay behind you, slow up and let them pass. If they won't pass, it probably means they are a policeman trying to nick you. If caught, never, never admit to any speed you might have been doing, least of all the one they try to pin on you. Speed on, friends, Hell ain't full yet!

No, I am a triffid. All Triffids wear them. Just wait until you make a typo, lad, and I will sting you with my whiplash.

Not just a stiff upper lip, but also a tight sphincter! Jolly bad show, what?

My Dear, You have a filthy mind, and I really appreciate that! Fres

Abrera is actually a three-headed monster from the planet Zog

I seem to remember a reference to waterproof pants from the 1920's I was at the end of the rubber-pant era (early 1950's), although I had a bibbed romper in some kind of rubberised fabric. I think PVC had come in by then. I certainly wore waterproof plants, and I think they were plastic.

Welcome Pollyanna, It is always good to hear of someone who is content with their lot. I hope you enjoy the friendship that you will get here. I now that we may seem a strange lot, but we actually do have things in common. Freswith

Was dishonorably discharged from the Marines for farting during the two-minute silence

Granted. Your legs are completely hairless, but your beard still makes you look ridiculous! I wish I could ensure that my plastic pants didn't leak at the legs.